Well my poor sister-in-law is having to do that this week. My nephew has a growth on his intestine that became apparent not long after he was born when the clamp dropped off his belly button but a growth remained. Over time this growth got bigger and after several visits for second and third opinions, first with GPs and then with specialists, they concluded that an operation was required.
My nephew is only 2 and a half months old and the idea of putting someone so young under general anasthetic is frightening – even more so for my sister-in-law. Thankfully though, after 2 hours, the operation was over (the growth removed and his intestine stitched back together again) and he is now on a packed ward being fed by a drip with lots of very ill children around him too. My SIL is sleeping on a camp bed beside him, only popping back home to see her 18 month old daughter. I can’t imagine how exhausting, scary and all-consuming her life must be at the moment. So too are the lives of the mothers and fathers of all those poorly children on the same ward as my nephew.
As we near Christmas, we are all hoping that those children are well enough to be at home and have some respite from their illnesses. Their parents will be hoping Santa brings them good health but I bet the children themselves still want the must-have toy – providing they are well enough to play with it on Christmas Day.
They are hoping my nephew will be out of the hospital by the end of the week.
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A friend of mine has just discovered she is expecting identical twins. After the initial shock passed, zillions of practical questions sprung to mind. The more you think about the practicalities, the more potential tricky scenarios emerge. Such as:
– Do you dress them in matching outfits?
– How do you tell them apart?
– Do you attempt breastfeeding?
– Is your car big enough?
– Is your house big enough?
– Can you afford to go back to work given the childcare costs?
– What kind of names are best – do they both have to have similar syllables? Should they both be traditional names or more trendy?
– When they start school, should they be split or should they stay together? What year do you start this?
– Will you cope?
etc, etc ,etc the list is endless.
Like all things in parenting, you just have to bloody well get on with it. But even so, it is a very daunting prospect for my friend, particularly as she has a child already. To jump from a one child family to a three child family is quite a jump.
There is also the constant worry during pregnancy, as they are sharing the same placenta. The hospital wants to see my friend for regular scans and check-ups, which will make her working life tricky.
But, as with all children and family planning issues, there are pros and cons to every scenario. Twins share a unique bond, which is irreplaceable. Do they fight less than other siblings because of this bond and because there is a zero age gap? It really is a gift to have children full-stop but to have 2 in one hit – that’s just damned lucky – bloody hard work – but those parents are very privileged to have such a unique occurrence happen to them.
My friend is still thinking she can juggle her work once the twins arrived. I say put it on the back-burner for a long while yet. Why the rush? Of course she’ll need a break from them for her own sanity but to miss out on the early years of her twins as well as her other child is just crazy. As parents of children much older will tell you – you don’t want to rely on films and photographs to document their baby and toddler years – memories of living the moment with them are much much better.
For those who have to work fine. For those who feel they need to work – try it part-time but don’t be a weekend Mum – you are letting some of the best years of your life pass you by. The sad thing is, you won’t realise they were the best until its too late.
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Thanks for reading.
Apparently they are a cup C. All my life I have been kidding myself and thinking they are a B. After I had children I was convinced they had shrunk to an A. Why is that you become Lara Croft overnight when you come into milk but then once the milk has gone so have your beautiful luscious boobs. In their place you don’t even get your old boobs back. Instead I had saggy boobs, one slightly bigger than the other. I felt like I had been short-changed by Mother Nature. I imagined that while Mother Nature was storing my normal boobs for safekeeping while I was milking she mixed them up with someone else’s so when I claimed my old boobs back they weren’t the same. Bit like when you go to a nightclub cloakroom and you ask for your blue coat and you get someone else’s in a slightly different blue hue.
After my first child I was convinced my lack of shape post pregnancy was because I didn’t breastfeed for long enough. So second time round I decided to eek it out a bit longer. This was tricky when I returned to my pre- pregnancy pursuits. Horse-riding required significant support, swimming made me leak (yes euugh) plus my pre-pregnancy swimming costume struggled to contain my new boobs and I was getting fed-up of spotty lifeguards staring at me in-between shower and pool. The most painful pursuit for milky boobs, believe it or not, is riding a motorbike. After having my second child I promised myself I would pass my big bike test. This involved several intense days in the saddle. The morning was not a problem but come lunch-time I was ready to explode and therefore I kept my motorbike jacket on at all times even when everyone else was taking off theirs for fear of a) embarrassing damp patches b) that I would never be able to do it up again until I had been ‘milked’ (hubby was at home bottle feeding while I rode).
Yes I am in mourning for the glimpse of what it was like to possess a pair of bigguns. It was obvious to see how much they had deflated by looking at the special swimming costume I had bought to a) contain my milky boobs and b) stop those bloody lifeguards staring at them all the time! The supportive cups now support nothing. In fact they now act in the same way as the parachute mechanism that inflates to slow down the speed of a space rocket as it lands. In other words, they cause considerable drag. Because I am no longer filling the cups, every time I turn and push off the side to do another length they just fill with water thus slowing me down. My old boobs were great they acted like buoyancy aids.
My husband is a tit man so absolutely loved it when I was breastfeeding – I will leave it at that no further explanation required. But now he keeps mentioning how flat-chested I am which just makes me want to growl all the time – grrrrrr. I then say something about the size of his weener (or however you spell it) just to give him a taste of his own medicine.
I am going to end this however by saying that I am happy with my C cup boobs (as recorded by the lovely lady at M&S). They are easy to carry around with me and I don’t need to strap them up to do the things I like to do. Actually my boobs, and a lot of other women’s post breastfeeding boobs, are normal – its the porn industry that has fucked the image of the boob up (sorry few puns in there I know).
Thanks for reading and be proud whatever your size.
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