Baby Basics Overload

It started very small, very early this summer, with meeting lost in translation who brought a little gift for the twins to encourage me to hope. But for 5 months I kept it in my secret good news bag at the back of my closet.

My parents went on a late summer trip to Italy (which I suspect is paradise for baby shopping) but I asked my mom to hold on to her gift till later. I tried to hint she could give it to me for xmas, but since xmas gifts are not a Dutch tradition she didn't get the hint.

At the first cold spell in November I went to the recycle/homeless store to donate some old winter gear. And from the corner of my eye I saw this: and the guy didn't even charge me as I had just donated some items..... It felt surreal taking it home (and it had to spend two months in the bag)

Then the trip with HB which was nice and quiet, and getting more real.
The day after however couldn't have been more different.
We went to visit DP's brother & SIL who kept their baby stuff for us. And started to unload.
As I was still struggling with my cold they parked me out of the way on the guest bed. DP and brother were handling various boxes and bags up and down the ladder to the attic, while SIL was selecting what she thought we would need/was very handy/mandatory/lovely/good to have. They kept piling stuff around me, telling me to sort out what I would like. But before I could start on one thing the next bag would be there.
After a while I gave up and said to DP that he should prioritise and see what would fit in the car.
(in the back of my mind I was still struggling with the whole not telling the gender and what to do with typical gender stuff thrown our way.)
After stuffing the car his brother wasn't easily deterred: he offered to bring the rest the following Wednesday, as he needed to be in the area for work.

 I think I can safely call that Baby Basics Overload, as the first half of the smallest size clothes isn't even in that picture because I was washing it:

One more (washing machine) load full of mini stuff to go, then one complete load with baby bath towels, burp cloths, nappies, napkins or whatever they are and a bed sheet the size of a pillow case.
At first even thinking about it was overwhelming, but going through the motions of hanging and folding it is helping to make it feel more real.
Also DP is much more relaxed now, we even cleared a drawer for mini clothes in our dresser, so our bedroom is basically ready to cater for three.

Oh, and thanks to your encouragements my hospital bag is packed (just didn't blog about all this immediately) and after the first laundry also the hospital baby things are put on top of the car seat.
Part of my brain screams it is Crazy to pack a car seat full of baby clothes, as we don't have a car or a baby right now. And I bet it will feel slightly surreal taking it to the hospital 'empty' expecting it to be occupied less than a day later.... (Just hope we will have nice taxi drivers both ways)

The only thing missing from the hospital / baby bags is a proper camera.

Peetvader

Peetvader translates to godfather.

Definition of godfather

noun

• 1 a male godparent: he is godfather to her child

• 2 a man who is influential or pioneering in a movement or organization: the godfather of alternative comedy
• a person directing a criminal organization, especially a leader of the American Mafia: the Mafia godfather believed to be behind the murder of two judges

Definition of godparent

noun

a person who presents a child at baptism and promises to take responsibility for their religious education.

So. Uhm.
Not quite the definitions I was looking for. I'm not a religious person and neither am I in need of someone directing a criminal organisation for my unborn child.
Nevertheless.
I'm all for education.
Not afraid of reinventing tradition on my unconventional way to becoming a parent, I felt it would be beneficial for the grasshopper to know there is someone special out there whom I trust. Someone to go to with questions we as parents may fail to answer to satisfaction. Someone without whom I might have lost the nerve on this path of DE. Someone who is not afraid to talk about emotions, or share or show them.
Three months ago, in a spontaneous moment I have asked HB if he wanted to be godparent to the grasshopper. He got a bit emotional while saying yes. (and I'm so happy he understands what I mean)
I've tried to discuss it with DP, but DP can't see past the definition and sticks to the simple 'no baptism=no godparent'.
(and again, HB understands)

Also in the past months HB has been toiling to clear up his parental home (after his father died and his mother lives in a nursing home now) And between all clutter and things that need to be thrown out he found this:

I love it. I travelled with him to pick it up. I got emotional when I saw him, so tall and skinny, carrying his own pram-bed, both from 1970.
I don't care how many people point out to me this is a highly impractical choice, that I can't carry it up the stairs or manoeuvre it through small inner city shops. (We'll get something else for those purposes)
This will be fine for walking through parks. This will be fine even in train or metro outside rush hour. This will only last a short time.
Life hasn't been all easy so I intend to enjoy its beauty when I can.
And I do hope this will be the beginning of a special bond between the tall one and the small one.

TMI (II) on a pregnant body

You probably don't want to read this, so I'll try to type 255 innocent characters in case it shows up in your reader unexpectedly and give you time to click away. Oh and a picture of Amsterdam Tulip day to make sure that other picture doesn't pop up:

(Sorry no kitten today ;-)
Here goes.
Navel is completely out now, softer than I thought.
It feels soft now between the two halves of my abdominal muscle (according to wiki they connect to the linea alba)
which gets me to the linea nigra: while at first is was only from the bellybutton down, it is also on the upper half  now, sort of yin yang around my navel.

This cold just won't go away. it makes me kind of deaf, can't handle background noise at all.
My skin is dry and itchy and the low humidity winter weather is not helping, and neither is the special pregnancy skin oil. Since I'm no good at not scratching I made ugly marks on my back and I keep damaging two tiny spots on my face. My bottom lip is split for three days already.
(Actually went to see my doctor and got camomile salve for my lips plus some special band aid on my back as she wasn't happy with the way it looked) 
My ankles are swelling during the day. Nice sock marks...

In the shower I noticed the difference in skin tone between my arms and belly. My skin tends to be relatively yellow (I know, olive sounds so much more appetising) but my belly manages to be pink. Like normal people. Well, at least DP, I don't take showers with (m)any other people these days. ;-)

Grasshopper must be moving down, as I can eat a bit more now. But while food enters more easily, the exit seems a bit blocked. Leaning forward to make room for the belly helps...

Oh, something I don't dare to say out loud just yet, but at 35w1d if in the shower I massage my breasts and squeeze, some whitish fluid comes out!!! Like TwangyPearl said, sometimes it is 'flippin amazing' what the body can do.   I suppose this quarter of a microliter doesn´t guarantee anything about possible future milk, but it feels like a glimpse from the future. I checked the book, which nonchalantly states this is completely absolutely normal. (!?) Maybe it is normal for normal people, but if you ask me it is nothing short of a miracle.
So thank you boobs. I have never thought I should have to carry them around, have never really liked anyone touching them. But I will be so grateful if it turns out to have a purpose.
And as a DE aside, that would add to the -  can I say biological? - connection. Baby made not only of my 'flesh and blood' (minus the dna) but also of my milk.
Wow.
Typing that feels very weird! But I'm feeling brave today so I'll leave it up there.

Yoga and DP

My pregnancy yoga class had one lesson to include the fathers as well, and I was glad that DP was willing to come.
Part of the time was 'theory' on contractions and birth, the other part we did some partner exercises to deal with breathing, massaging back pain and the actual pushing.

I know that on paper I still have 3 to 8 weeks to have Grasshopper in my pregnant belly. And rationally I know it will end, hopefully with a live baby. A take home baby.
But emotionally I'm still behind. I'm at the stage where I dare to believe this pregnancy will stick, where I dare to talk about it. Where the hope for the living twin is stronger than the sadness for the vanished one.
So I guess I need these classes to drive home that this is real, and that we need to prepare.
(Although this whole pushing thing still feels very surreal.)

But DP made me promise that the next two weeks I will spend time and effort to get the house baby-ready, AND the hospital bag packed.

I actually meant to write a post on how DP is there for me. Doing things in the background without asking for recognition (laundry, dishes, cooking, shopping and who knows what I have failed to notice?). Making sure I'm not exhausting myself. Helping me focus, cause I'm happily dreaming away in this cloud of hormones...
And most special his hand on my belly so we can enjoy the Grasshopper antics together. I love him for caring for our little almost-here family so much.

Starting maternity leave

I was looking forward to not having to go to work anymore. It is a luxury, having paid maternity leave and I'm ready to embrace it. Since I work on an IT department with mostly guys (95% or so, although my little team is much better with only 81%) this is a rare occurence and not everyone is aware of it. So I wanted to share some cake on my last day, celebrate this milestone, and say goodbye for four months. (and felt very brave, ordering cakes with a baby theme!)

At the end of 20 minutes there were still some cakes left, so I trundled over to the department where HB and DP work.
HB was at his desk and had a cake. The guy sitting opposite him, who has seen me visiting almost every day looked at the cakes I offered, looked at me again and asked me: " but why are you going on maternity leave? "
Uhm, because I'm pregnant? -me patting the basketball under my jumper
"but, how long? "
a good 8 months, baby due in February.
"But, my wife is due in February as well! Congratulations!"

I'm still amazed at his lack of radar. I know it is very possible that his wife has a bigger belly as it is their second, and I carry relatively small since I'm so tall and Grasshopper is vertical.
But still.....Hello.?!?!

34 weeks

In December the Netherlands were hit by a small flu epidemic. And when everyone else gets the flu I 'only' get a cold, as I never get a fever. 't Was a nasty cold though, straight to the chest. With all the coughing I lost my appetite, was just not nice to have anything in my stomach or bladder. So over the xmas holiday I lost 3 kilos. I knew not to worry about it, but was only really reassured yesterday on the last scan. Grasshopper is growing on merrily. Midwife was struggling both with the scan apparatus and with finding the head, snuggling in my pelvis. So readings might not be so accurate, still in line with previous ones though. Belly not quite as supersized, legs crazy long, head small. And suddenly a foot swung into view: 7,5 centimeter (three inches!) Patudo allright, amazing that such a small baby has such a big foot already. Well, probably two, but we only saw one. DP also saw a hand flash by but I missed that.

What else. DP's parents came to visit, we had a lovely Saturday together and showed them around the future house. Then DP and I left them to go to some breastfeeding information show. (they showed a DVD of a newborn that tiger-crawled to find a breast and let its head fall right on top of it. Hard to believe!)
Getting tired easily now, sneaking in naps when I can.
Two half days left of work, I feel quite ready to not go anymore. Oh, was brave and ordered cupcakes with baby-theme to say goodbye to my colleagues. There is a BIG project starting right now, it would have been a career opportunity for me, but they will just have to manage without me.

Good night & sleep tight!

Last Name

It's official.
Grasshopper has a last name (mine) and a father (DP).
We went to the city hall today, met with a lovely official, answered her questions, showed our passports and signed. (same fountain pen I used for signing for the house)
Within 5 minutes we were out the door with our document. Hurray.

Then on to the architect to talk about kitchen arrangements. He even knew a company that makes new  tiles just like the 16th century.

At home DP asked me again if we shouldn't get some shopping done. I said I was waiting for the nesting urge to hit me, but he said it should have hit me already ;-)
I love it that he wants to take care of these things, so we made a list together. I tried to protest against putting things on the list we already have but gave up quickly. I'm still smiling.

(PS. the official father paperwork is because we are not married, so we need to take all legal family steps separately) 

Signed and Paraphed

The Big Family Dinner was a lovely success. Twenty people had a good time, first in the City Museum, then at home.
Mom even found last year's notes, including times for lighting the fire place and putting pre-dinner snacks in the oven.
We had baby candles in the christmas tree, I did light them for all your missing little ones too. I'll ask an uncle if he got some pictures of that.
After dinner (including christmas pudding with rum-butter) there were endless cakes, chocolates, teas and coffees.

And then today we met my parents again, at the notary. Now that the paperwork is signed and paraphed (and paraphed and paraphed some more) DP and I can say we bought a house together.
22 years ago I was an anti-squatter / house-sitter in this same house. Then it was converted into an office. Now the office moved out and we bought the top part of the building, to convert back into living space.
It is a world heritage building, so we will need permits every step of the way. We have only just begun applying for those permits, so we have no idea how long it is all going to take. My father the optimist thinks it will be a matter of a few months. I'll be happy if it will be less than a year before we can move. It has taken 13 months to even get to this stage of provisional contract. The commitment is real now, just that time of transfer will depend on the next 2 permits.
Both DP and my mother have asked now if we shouldn't go shopping for the grasshopper. But as long as I'm not totally fluffy in the head I think I prefer to puzzle with gas pipes, flooring and kitchen equipment.

Poor mom

If forced to choose, I'm a bit of a daddy's girl. He used to pick out my school. My brother was more my mothers child, she picked his school. And now he is married, in London, to a woman who acts like we are not family and I think my mom feels it most acute of us all.

Today is the big family dinner with my mother's family. My brother wrote he would come. And an hour before he was supposed to get in the plane he calls that he can't make it, cause the nanny's kid got chickenpox. And apparently SIL can't care for the boys for the one night. (in April they will be 2 and 4) (something with her neck)
Oh, and it is raining in London, so they are going for a 5 day trip to the sun.

Um, yeah.

Poor mom.

Told you so

You already know. x-mas without having the kids you always dreamed of hurts.
So for me for the very first time x-mas didn't fill me with the usual dread. I even did some 'decorating' with these candle holders

As a nice favour of the universe we have some role reversal: the StepTeen is refusing to come over for the holidays, not even the smallest part. He hasn't been over since DP shared the pregnancy news with the boys in August (Even though it weighs heavily on me sometimes I feel it is not my story to blog about)  I think DP kept believing he would turn around, especially now, so poor DP is behaving like a wounded animal. He even managed to put into words 'I don't feel like celebrating x-mas now'. And now that it has come this far there is absolutely no point in saying the obvious. I don't even think that pointing out that I managed to survive 7 x-masses with his boys will help at all.
So instead this week he is spoiling the younger kid with x-box Lego-Lord-Of-The-Rings, and I have arranged a drinking session on X-mas Eve with HB (who completely denies x-mas, as his mother is not aware of it much and is confusing him with other family members, dead or alive)

To end on a happier note: my brother is coming over from London for the Big Family Dinner in my family on the 27th. He suggested he wanted to come over just to see me pregnant, but I'm so glad he is not ignoring the 20 other family members, it makes my mother very happy.

So, wishing you the stamina for yet another x-mas. A drunk uncle, a deceased (grand)father, a stopped heartbeat or failed cycle, I hope that despite everything you'll find a tiny candle you can light for the one(s) you're missing. Even if you can't speak up to your family about it, you deserve it. I'll try again this year. The speaking up bit may be a bit much, but I'll make sure to light plenty of candles for all of us.