Hi, and welcome to my first post on my new blog! I never know how blogs should start (a big entrance, or a normal post?), so I thought I'd kick off with the reason I'm here with a new blog - my little boy, Bob.
My parenting adventure started in mid January 2011, when it gradually dawned on me what all the queasiness was... Even though I didn't recognise it at the time, I remember exactly when morning sickness began, as I'd been to Bath for the day to film a jewellery video for Do Craft's Creativity TV. My normally steady hands had been shaking all day and I needed so many takes to get the close-ups done that I thought I'd never be invited back! By the time I made it home, I'd gone the wrong way several times and felt awful, but assumed it was just the result of a long day. It took four more days to figure it out!
Being the wrong side of 40, I expected every doctor and midwife I met to do a sharp intake of breath, like a dodgy plumber about to quote, but at no point was I ever made to feel old. Quite the opposite in fact. I read Cari Rosen's book "The Secret Diary of a New Mum (Aged 43 1/4)" about halfway through my pregnancy and found little to identify with in how I was treated, either by friends or health professionals. Perhaps the fact that I can't really believe I'm as old as I am rubbed off on them :-)
We elected to find out the sex of our baby at the 20 week scan. We couldn't see a reason not to - it's a surprise whenever you find out, after all - and there are good practical reasons to know in advance. One of the biggest of these is the baby's name. We didn't have a gender preference, but we agreed easily on a girl's name (Emma Katy, the 'Katy' being in memory of my Nanna) and had nothing we liked for a boy. So, by the day of the scan, we had pretty much decided we were having a girl - we simply couldn't imagine a nameless boy! We left the hospital in a state of shock after being told our bump was blue - it was almost like having a daughter taken away. We got used to the news quickly though. By the time we got home from the hospital, we were excited about having a house full of Lego and Matchbox cars, and empty of anything made of pink plastic, and surely we could think of a name in 20 weeks...
In the meantime, we wanted something more personal than 'bump' as a nickname and, as he was due on Battle of Britain day, we chose 'Bob'. It's cute, ran no risk of being his 'real' name (who'd call a baby Bob?) and, as all Blackadder II fans know, it's the long version of Kate ;-) In the end, he didn't arrive on BoB day, but we had become so used to the nickname that we couldn't think of him as anyone else, and the name stuck :-)
As we approach his 2nd monthiversary, it's a little hard to remember what life was like BB (Before Bob). I don't have as much time for crafting and Molly-cuddling as I'd like, but I spend a lot less time on housework (a simple matter of redefining 'dirty'). My odd yearning for red wine is more than outweighed by the cake allowance that breastfeeding gives (although that would be more useful if I had more time to bake cakes...). Our friends have been fabulous, and there's an excellent network of children's centres near us, offering all sorts of support and ideas. I still spend a lot of time feeling out of my depth, but at least some aspects of parenthood feel comfortable now, and nappies aren't as horrid as I'd feared. Oh, and typing a blog post takes a couple of days - partly because I have to reach around a snoozing infant to type one handed on a laptop that's not quite close enough, and partly because I have to keep stopping to gaze adoringly at the snoozing infant :-) I'd better start typing my next post straight away!