What a picture of love looks like to a seven year old! Our eldest granddaughter’s portrait of her doting grandparents 🙂 She says we each have half of the same heart over our heads because we love each other with one love, and the heart in the middle above us has wings because love flies all around us all the time… ❤
If we were having coffee this weekend, I’d be feeling tired but happy after four hectic weeks spent visiting with my family in the North of Scotland… ❤
In the midst of all the stress and excitement of a new baby arriving six weeks earlier than nature intended my 55th birthday came and went almost unnoticed, but with the wonderful gift of a new grandchild exactly one week beforehand, I enjoyed the perfect (for me) family oriented day free from any fuss.
Thankfully my newest granddaughter Lily is now safely home from hospital a full three weeks after her birth, but still three weeks before she was due to be born, so my daughter is understandably relieved and delighted to have her tiny new daughter home in time for Christmas.
We had all been joking while she was still in hospital that the little one (all of 4lb 5oz at birth) was probably still small enough to fit comfortably into her Christmas stocking – and even now she’s tipping the scales at just over 5lb in weight she does indeed fit, with room to spare! Happy Christmas everyone! 🙂
I’m back from the North of Scotland at last, and what a busy few weeks it feels like I’ve had, although I spent the entire time travelling back and fore within a distance of 10 miles and saw no-one but immediate family the entire time I was away.
Inevitably there were the usual frantic familial ups and downs that occur when four direct generations of stubborn individuals collide in the collective pressure-cooker intensity of several cumulatively stressful situations. But in spite of having to help do my bit in defusing a few near-miss explosions I’ve found far more to make me smile than grumble about over the past month, so overall the whole full-on family experience has left me counting far more beautiful blessings than ugly grudges…
I spent most of the first two weeks of my stay one-on-one looking after my youngest grandson (aged three) while his mum was stuck in hospital awaiting the birth of his baby sister – he decided I was his pretend mummy while his real mummy was away, which was really lovely for me, if a little challenging at times. And it was with great relief to all of us that my youngest granddaughter was born safe and well by Caesarian Section six weeks early, after a truly worrying few weeks of potentially serious health issues for both mother and baby.
I then spent most of the next two weeks (once my daughter was safely home from hospital, albeit without her beautiful new baby) staying nearby with my elderly parents, in particular giving my mum a bit of a break by spending quiet quality time (while I still can) with my 82-year-old dad, who after a couple of debilitating strokes and the accompanying onset of vascular dementia seems to be in a slow an unsteady decline in life. The deterioration in his health is so sad to see but I know I’m lucky, at 55 and with six grandchildren of my own, to still have both parents alive, if not exactly well.
My beanstalk eldest grandson, who has just turned 17, has amazingly overcome his awkward teenage aversion to showing any level of emotional/physical contact with adults in authority and thankfully appears to have returned to his old huggy self. In between times I also spent some much-needed time (whenever possible) catching up with my youngest daughter and her three beautiful children – always an absolute joy for me – and with their collective help I filled my depleted hug-tank, leaving me brimming over with love.
My lovely husband travelled up from London to join me for my stay with my parents, arriving on my birthday, which was a wonderful birthday present, and my son also took time out of his busy work schedule to drive up for a flying weekend visit – so for once I had all of the people I love most in the world in (near enough) the same place at the same time – a thoroughly rare occurance in our family, and appreciated all the more for that rarity.
And as the piece de resistance, although my newborn granddaughter is still in hospital (potentially until her expected birth date in early January), now that she is doing well enough to be out of her incubator and into a regular cot, last night – the last night of my visit – I was finally able to give her a precious Nanny cuddle for the first time ever, and I thought my heart would burst with joy.
So plenty for me to smile about this week, lots of wonderful memories to store away and treasure in the years to come… ❤
This week’s huge smile comes courtesy of my newest granddaughter Lily, born this morning by c-section, six weeks early and weighing in at just over four pounds.
It seems she’s going to be monitored in the Special Care Baby Unit for the next wee while, and understandably my daughter is tired and sore but thankfully her worryingly erratic blood sugar levels have quickly returned to normal since her own beautiful daughter’s speedy but premature delivery.
We’ve all had a worrying few weeks medically, but thankfully all is now well with both of them 🙂
Welcome to the world, little one! X
I’m off to Scotland tonight on the overnight train, so probably won’t be around much online (if at all) for the next few weeks.
I’ll be spending time with my eldest daughter’s family while we wait with anticipation to see how things go with the rest of her third pregnancy – see here for an explanation…
As of yesterday she’s back in hospital for the duration, but all is going relatively ok so far, it’s mainly just a precautionary measure to make sure if anything does go wrong, she’s in the right place for fast action. The plan is now to get her to 35 weeks if possible, and then deliver baby by elective section five weeks early…
See you all when I get back, hopefully with good news of a stabilised diabetic daughter and healthy new grandchild 🙂
If we were having coffee this week, I’d be having mine in a large mug with a slightly warm fruit scone and butter – yum! And I’d probably talk at length about babies, and childbirth, and problems, because that’s what’s on my mind today.
My eldest daughter is currently just under 33 weeks pregnant with her third baby. As a long-term type 1 diabetic, she’s recently been struggling (through no fault of her own) to regulate her blood glucose levels during this pregnancy, and as baby’s growth is also concerning (really small this time and with a slightly erratic heart rate, not really big like last time) there is now a distinct possibility that her new little one will be born even earlier than the early birth already planned for.
Baby’s calculated due date is actually very early January 2019, but because of my daughter’s diabetes the plan all along has been to have baby delivered by 38 weeks at the latest – just before Christmas – and that’s what we’ve all been aiming towards.
But due to these recent complications of erratic blood glucose levels, erratic fetal heart rate and small baby, everything is up in the air just now and after a 3-day stay in hospital on constant IV Insulin to keep her levels stable while giving her steroids to ensure baby’s lungs mature early enough, my daughter was discharged yesterday with the understanding that at this point it looks like reaching 38 weeks gestation is unlikely.
At next week’s clinic appointment the consultants hope to have a rolling plan in place for booking an elective section for probably around 36 weeks, but with the proviso that any further problems would mean an emergency section at any time before that date – decisions will be made week to week, depending on the results of the ongoing twice-a-week scans and fetal monitor trace (already being carried out for the past month), and plan adjusted accordingly.
So it now seems likely that my daughter will definitely have a section, and her new baby will probably be in the Special Care Baby Unit for an indeterminate time after birth, assuming all goes well. As ever, there are no guarantees that all will go well, and that is a concern. I’m hoping above hope that all goes to plan, not only that baby stays safe inside for as long as possible, but also is born safely and in good health. The not knowing is hard, as is the interminable waiting.
I mean, I know no-one ever knows exactly when a baby will be born, or how things will go, but this feels like an extra layer of not knowing all over again. My youngest daughter also had complications in the latter stages of both her last two pregnancies (for an entirely different reason), and both babies were born early but thankfully healthy. Those last few crucial weeks of waiting were excrutiating, with frequent hospital monitoring and never knowing week to week if baby was still ok.
I tell myself it will be fine this time too, but of course we can never know how things will turn out. So for now I’m more concerned than excited, but remind myself just how lucky we are to have such an excellent national health service here in the UK in spite of ongoing funding difficulties… 🙂