I can really relate...

I stumbled onto some memes related to pregnancy and then I couldn't stop. In case you were wondering how I was doing at 34 weeks pregnant with twins whilst caring for a toddler (as well as three other bigger children), here it is!

This morning I lifted Kingsley into a trolley at the shops and I feel like I sprained my belly. I officially cannot lift my 16kg two year old anymore.

Just a message to every stranger who wants to ask me about my pregnancy: you may think twins is a "blessing" but whilst I am struggling to stay awake, am not 100% sure where my toddler is, haven't brushed my hair in a week and sprained my belly, I think twins is far from a "blessing". It feels more like a punishment for something I did in a past life.

Yep, I did a Tara. I need to get over this need to be a story-topper and over achiever!

My husband and older children know that picking things off the floor (including myself) is a tough feat, yet my floor still looks like a toy box, shoe collection and rubbish bin exploded.

So one morning I discovered, as I looked at myself in the mirror whilst sitting on the bed, that I might like a human when standing. However, when I sit down and don't try to sit straight even a little bit, I look like a potato with arms. I laughed and told the kids, now they laugh about it at school. Looking amazing (for a potato)!

Kingsley wanted to lie down on my side of the bed. No problem I thought, as lay down on Chris' side. Until it came to getting up, I have not learnt how to get out of bed on this side. This is a skill I may never master... HELP I'M STUCK!

Kingsley has a little dry cough. When he is finished his three little baby coughs, he tells me he is okay to assure me he is not going to throw up like mummy does when she coughs. He also mimics the grunts and args I make when I am trying to get up and asks me "mum, K?"

Sleeping at night is so tough. Between the indigestion and the being uncomfortable and now feeling like I will develop bedsores if I stay in the same position for more than 10 minutes, sleep does not come easy. So then I spend all day like this little girl, unfortunately Kingsley does not agree that napping is a good use of his time.

I was really lucky in my pregnancy with Kingsley, that he had no intention of moving down and being anywhere near my bladder. These girls on the other hand have other ideas. I am sure there is a head permanently squishing the bladder. It is not uncommon for the family to hear "I need to go to the toilet... I think" or "I may have forgotten how to pee". Once at the shops I was seriously worried that I was going to pee my pants! Seriously, I thought this is me now, I pee my pants, that is who I am. Then I go the bathroom and nothing! Not one drop. Stupid babies living in my bladder!

After being very sick in the first trimester (and a fair bit of the second), I was hoping it was all over when I finally stopped vomiting. My body thinks that would be too easy, why would I want it easy! There is so much baby in my belly that my stomach has not room for food. I want to eat and drink (oh how I want to drink three litres of fluid at one time) but when I do, a tiny foot, head or butt says no and pushes it back up. No warning, just eat and vomit right where I am. I have now done this beautifully twice when eating out with my husband. Vomit right into the plate. EW!

I think that might be enough negativity... now for look into the future. According to my research of meme's this is a glimpse of what is to come...

I am going to have some more big babies!

We had a worry for a moment
That one baby did not grow yet
Then a fortnight later
It was clear there was no matter
Twin A was happily big
Growing like a mighty pig
Measurements had her more than average
Height was going to be her advantage
She sits on the 90th  percentile
Like Kingsley she'll be a big child
Twin B parties on my left
Kicking and smooshing what is left
She is a little smaller
Her sister will be taller
But compared to the average bub
She's doing just fine in the hub
Twin B is on the 50th percentile
Not just for twin but any growth style
So it seems Kingsley was my mega baby
Remember he was 4.56kg easy
He was long and trim
And has stayed that way, slim
His baby sisters may be no different
I don't do tiny, small, insignificant
This is what we call pulling a "Tara"
It's not planned but not in error
It's always to the extreme
Overboard, tremendous, a dream
Why do ordinary when Tara does it extraordinary!

Ew! I don't feel so well

Once there was a lady whose body was broken
It grew tumors, had pains and things unspoken
Getting pregnant, she did that with ease
Perhaps because the pregnancy would be one big tease
Vomiting and sickness every day and every night
Rejecting those new parasites with greedy overzealous smite
The nausea was unrelenting and had her doubled over
How long can I live on crackers for breakfast, lunch and tea, I wonder
So the doctor said try these miracle pills
6-7-8 in the morning and a few at night for thrills
Try not to throw them up, they work with time 
And even make her feel something close to fine
Couple that with in hospital pregnancy day stay
Where they pump her full of fluids to help her today
By 25 weeks this "morning sickness" was nearing the end
Her body said, it's not that easy my dear friend
Bring on the indigestion, the reflux, the heartburn
For how long can you sleep sitting up without a turn?
Don't eat that and eat less of this
You might just have less pain and more bliss
Unfortunately the comfort food, chocolate, is on the don't list
Plus cheese and fat and yummy things that get missed
Surprise, there's tablets and pills for this issue too
They work sometimes, others you struggle through
And just when she thought the vomiting was done
On her birthday her body thought it was time to vomit some
In her brunch plate at the cafe that needs no name
The staff were nice but the brunch was not the same
Some people have a lovely time being pregnant it's true
Just not for this lady whose body needs more than glue
To fix it and mend it and make it whole again
Hold on dear, two months left of this saga my friend.

I'm Back!

It has been about two years since I was last here, I guess I should catch you up...

After I finally decided to like my baby the like turned into love.
He wasn't suddenly amazing or a pure, innocent dove.
Yet, I was comfortable, talking to him and looking him in the eye,
Sometimes he seemed so nice, I would stare and sigh.

Now that baby is a noisy toddler who loves me dearly,
He smiles when he sees me, holds me and wants me clearly.
He thinks I'm a jungle-gym and that pinching me is fine,
He says mumma and dad, 'eah and Nan oh and "car" all the time.

He's still tall and happily in the 97th percentile,
His motor skills are great and loves Lego more than once in a while.
I watch him and laugh as he mimics his older sisters,
And "aw" when he waves and blows good-bye kisses.

Kingsley turned two in October 2018,
We celebrated with just family and ate creamy cake,
He was surprised with a Paw Patrol balloon, banner and faces
He loved his car gifts, puzzles and anything with dinosaur traces.

February and March of that same year was tremendous,
You see we met some new friends, buried in my chest.
Of course I named my new lung buddies, the big one Hector and lil' Chip,
Surgery they found Chip Jr and a brother or two trying to give them the slip.

Two surgeries and many nights in hospital saw the little guys gone,
Wow that was painful, nurses were mean but we got rid of Bernard's spawn.
Recovery was tough and the weight gain was saddening,
The girls were worried and Kingsley was just confused and babbling.

With all that done and just when I learning to breathe again,
My body started to grow a different kind of friend.
At first there was some happiness and surprise,
Then at only six weeks growth I looked up and couldn't believe my eyes.

There was a healthy looking mini baby on the ultrasound screen,
And then she moved the wand thing and it was clear I was growing a team!
In my belly were two little mini babies, I found this out on my own,
So in my shock I laughed and laughed and laughed as I told Chris on the phone.

The shock did not wear off, it wore me down, down, down,
I cried and screamed and was far from pleased, I could only frown.
I went into meltdown, cursing my body for being so weird,
First some new tumors, then multiple parasites I wish they disappeared.

One baby was planned, a great idea, two was not
for that makes five in my house, oh my that's a lot!
How would we survive, how would we fit them in?
And so the search for a new house was ready to begin.

Despite my grumpies and unrelenting shock, I knew what needed to be done,
A new house, new car, more space, less work, life would change some.
The children reacted with unhappiness too, they had siblings everywhere and didn't' want more,
They would come around, as would I and we would be less sad than before.

What a battle these two have put me through though,
constant vomiting, fatigue and mental instability had me to and fro.
I had to come off work and stay in bed because I was so unpredictable,
I was trying to look after my team but they could only be so flexible.

Now my belly is huge with two good sized muffins,
They kick and turn and fight for room like my organs are stuffing.
I am 28 weeks into the pregnancy,
And the two little girls, yep girls, are kind of growing on me.

It took me 9 weeks to like my baby

Here I very candidly talk about my reality of getting to know Tiny Human I am as open as I can be to tell a honest story that is in contrast to what I had known and believed before I went through it myself. Now is not the time to hold anything back, here I am putting it out there to tell a story that I think is not uncommon, just not commonly spoken about.

For all my life I have been lead to believe that when you first see your baby as parents you fall deeply in love with your newborn. I have since heard other mothers tell me frequently how much they love their brand new children or that it was love at first sight. When this happens, I smile nicely and wait for someone else to speak and change the subject. Love did not come instantly for me and Tiny Human, I didn't even like the little guy. What was wrong with me?

Perhaps my position started even before the little guy was born. During pregnancy I didn't feel what I felt I was "supposed" to. I didn't talk to my belly or look down at it lovingly. I didn't feel a sense of connection apart from the physical. Firstly, this kid caused me intense anxiety and physical illness in the first trimester. Then it messed with my hips and made walking and moving difficult some days. In the last trimester I was fat and tired and hot and tired.

I kept reminding myself this was what I wanted and that it would all be worth it when I had my own Tiny Human. But the truth was I knew attaching to my baby was going to be a battle and none of my feelings (or lack of) came as a surprise.

During pregnancy, I had been referred to the perinatal mental health worker as I had checked a box in admission that said I had been exposed to abuse or neglect as a child. She often reassured me that attachment and feeling connected to your unborn child is not a given and that some mother's don't feel that. This made me feel a little better at the time but did not take away that I actually wanted to love and the lovely feelings to be present. I wanted what the other mums had.

When they pulled this (not so) Tiny Human from my belly, I felt something different. Perhaps it was relief he was okay, perhaps it was calm after my heart rate returned to normal, maybe it was happiness. Whatever it was, it didn't last. Quickly any positive feeling was squashed out of the way by fear and anxiety and an overwhelming questioning of why I had done this and how I was going to get through it.

As the days continued I was sore and stressed and solely focused on feeding Tiny Human. The feeding didn't come easy and I took this as another sign that something was wrong with me, that I just wasn't cut out for this mum thing. (I know, I know, breastfeeding is hard. I thank my friends for sharing this reality with me when they went through the struggle,  it helped me to appreciate the difficulty). Unfortunately knowing these things happen to other mums, doesn't make me feel any better about myself.

So, I was frustrated with Tiny Human. I wanted him to sleep better and feed better. He didn't agree. He was a tiny little parasite (the slightly cute kind) who needed me constantly. I started doubting everything. Why did I have a baby? Could I do it all? One night I woke Chris up to cry to him how we had made a mistake taking on the girls. My hormones were a mess and wanted to run away from my family - I didn't want all this responsibility.

I can be candid with my feelings with the mental health team and Chris. We had all been prepared for my attachment to the baby being difficult. That didn't make it feel any better though. I felt like a failure, a sick person, a terrible mother, a mess. What I felt was all negative. Logically I could cut myself some slack, I knew myself, I knew this wasn't at all abnormal - we had expected it remember! But logic and emotion did not clash, they would not compromise. I could  not escape the feeling of having made a mistake.

I was referred to the perinatal psychiatrist and then a psychologist. They looked at me with such concern and thankfully it just made me feel supported (this in itself was a foreign experience). It helped to feel like there was this wrap around of people ready to help me. In the early days I was also introduced to the Breastfeeding Support Clinic at the Early Childhood Centre. Three weeks in a row Chris, the baby and I talked to a lactation specialist about breastfeeding and everything else that was going on. I had another source of support.

Those that know me, know I never ask for support. In fact when people say things like "call me if you need anything," they surely follow it up with "I know you won't." It felt good to not have to ask and to have it handed to me. Then it felt wrong to accept it. More negativity ran rampant through my body and mind. There are people that need these services more than me. Why was I being so weak? I was supposed to be able to handle anything life threw at me. Then the thoughts shifted... I am a client, I used to work with people like me! What a loser!

Again, logically I could explain this was a good idea and it would help me, but my emotions ran through my veins and controlled my thoughts no matter how much told them to calm down. Now, I can look back on these days and know that I was in need of the help, I accepted it, acted on it and was made stronger for having been exposed to it.

Back to the little guy. So, for the first few months of his life I never referred to Kingsley by name. I would call him "the baby". Not my baby. Nothing affectionate. Nothing that connected him to me. I didn't view him as mine. He was not someone, he was a something. A thing I needed to feed, change and rock rigorously to sleep. The psychologist that saw me knew this. One day, maybe when he was about 7 weeks old, she caught me call him by name. She pointed it out to me because I had not noticed. It felt weird. It was about this time that I tried to sing a song to me that referred to him as "my baby boy". Rather than serenading my little baby, I started to cry. I could not get the words out, I could not link the baby to me. 

Perhaps being a foster parent played a role in this understanding of what it was like to have my child. I had had children in my life for a few years which were not mine. They came and went and they were never mine. Although they are not going anywhere and I love them and treat them as if they are, Leah and Little Tara are not mine. Why would my body suddenly know the difference between this new child and all the others I had cared for.

My experience started to change when he started to smile at me. He transformed from a thing to a being. Suddenly he was a Tiny Human. And this Tiny Human was no longer just here to be fed and rocked and changed by me, he enjoyed me... perhaps I started to believe he liked me. A few weeks later I realized, I liked him. I told Chris and I told the psychologist. I felt proud. I was now being a real mum, I actually liked my baby. It felt like an achievement. Still I rarely referred to him by name and didn't use phrases like "my baby", but I liked the kid, that was a good start. He was 9 weeks old.

Like is a distant friend to love; sometimes like doesn't develop into love. Plenty of adult relationships are built on like and turn into love... plenty of them end because love never comes. Would love come to Tiny Human and I? 

With this new found experience of liking my baby, I had more new feelings. I was more protective of him. As the girls became more interested in him and his funny smile, I felt I needed to watch them and keep him safe. Of course I was doing this before, but it seemed to come from a different place. I was  no longer protecting an innocent, vulnerable baby, I was protecting this little dude that I was okay with having around. I also started to feel jealous when he shared his smiles with other people; even when it was just his dad or sisters. My liking him was correlated to him liking me and somehow when he liked other people it threatened his like of me. As I type this I hear the craziness in my words, but that didn't matter to me.

For New Years Eve my parents had offered to take care of all three kids. I beefed it up to two nights away. Unlike other mums I hear of who struggle to leave their new babies in the beginning, I was looking forward to it. I was excited for someone else to care for him and the girls for TWO NIGHTS. A few days before it was actually going to happen I was met with a weird feeling of nerves. Was I okay with this I questioned for a moment... of course I was!

The day came to leave the house, we packed the car. Said goodbye to the girls and my parents and I went into the room where a sleeping Kingsley was, I kissed him on the leg trying not to wake him and out of nowhere I said "I love you". It was unexpected and I almost didn't hear myself. Oh cool, I thought, I finally love the baby. He was two and half months old; 11 weeks.

As I finally finish this post I started when Kinglsey was 9 weeks old, he is now just about 4 months. I read the transition and am glad I was able to open and honest with myself about it. I recognise what sounded crazy and what was my reality and that even though these two descriptions are mine, I am okay with that. I appreciate that it was my honesty about the issue that made it somewhat easier and made it possible for me to move forward.

I also believe that the people I allowed to have around me made a huge different in me being about to feel okay at the end of this. Thank you.

Lastly, I want to say that if anything in my story sounds familiar, let it out. Talk about the real world. And if it sounds very foreign, that is okay too. We all have our own experiences in everything else in life, why should loving our babies be any different?

Chrissy and his Tiny Human

For many of them, being a dad is sometimes a part-time gig,

So when on holidays he may get to see that as a job, it is a very big.

Although Chrissy has been aware of needs of our Tiny Human Kingsley,

Our time away allowed him appreciate the fun times with this baby.

They now have a beautiful evening ritual, just daddy and son,

I watch as my husband coos with the little dude, both having fun.

He dries the bath water playfully of the pale, soft skin,

And the face on the little guy shows his enjoyment with an ear to ear grin.

I see the long, lingering, eye contact between baby and daddy,

The way their faces soften and I can see they are in love, madly.

Chrissy holds onto Kinglsey's hands and does their little dance,

They smile and sing as they catch each other glance after glance.

The ritual bertween the boy and man continues with moisturiser time,

Chrissy takes it in his hands and starts with the legs and Tiny enjoys that just fine.

He rubs the cream on the arms and head then gets baby giggles on the belly,

Lastly the Chrissy massages the back with the little guy on his tummy.

Chrissy makes baby sounds and Kingsley's face is beautifully animated,

Then it's time to get the small dude dressed and they are both elated.

I smile at my gorgeous boys and Chrrisy's big arms embrace our son,

And I hope tomorrow after a shower or bath I get to spy on similiar fun.

20 things only a mother of an infant can understand

Being a new mum to a new baby is a tough task. It is all about sleep deprivation, being needed 24/7 and feeling like you still don't know quite what you are doing. Here is a compilation of new experiences for me from the past 11 weeks...

1. Hallucinating baby cries when in fact the little man is sound asleep in his bassinet. Even sometimes "hearing" baby cries when he is in your arms happily eating away at the boob.

2. Constantly caressing your own boobs to identify if it is food time for the tiny being and if it is, which side to give him to gnaw on.

3. Packing 10 changes of clothes for the baby when you are staying over at your in-laws, but only one change for yourself (which is quickly covered in sweat, tears, fresh and regurgitated boob milk) and no jammies.

4.  Wanting to enjoy the time you are able to go to the shops on your own whilst hubby has the little guy but constantly feeling like you might have left him in a store somewhere.

5. Trying to come up with new a fun responses for when friends, family and random people on the street tell you how adorable your child is but only responding with the same thing "yep, when he's not screaming, he's quite cute".

6. Or what about when they say how well you are looking and you have to question are they lying or did you always look this disheveled, fat, tired and overwhelmed. Seriously if you could see my stomach you would not be saying some positive things, that body part is what horror movies are made of.

7. Feeling like you are presentable because this shirt only smells a little bit like vomit. It seems like I am often saying "Pfft, who cares, I can go to the shops/walk/park like this" when really the thought should be "I think this top belongs in the washing basket... wait when was the last time I brushed my hair...?"

8. Not wanting to be intimate in your partner because you never felt less sexy in your life and you don't want to put him through that kind of trauma of having to pretend to appreciate your body.

9. Constantly stressing over when another human did a poo; what colour was it? what was the consistency? how much was there? did it smell? Oh crap did he just put his foot in it?!!!

10. Not being able to say what time you will be anywhere because "it all depends on the baby".

11. Trying not to obsessively compare the little person to what the internet says he should be doing/what size he should be... but doing so anyway.

12. Constantly talking to the mute baby as if he can understand everything you say and interpreting his silence, gurgles or cries as legitimate responses.

13. When your little person sleeps a little longer in the night, but you have been awake since 1am because your body is so used to waking every three hours it does it without prompting.

14. Trying super duper hard to be content with just sorting half a load of laundry today when your list of things to do was longer than this blog post. 

15. Knowing that your partner will never quite understand what it means to be on-call 24/7 to a small person whilst still making the house run smoothly and therefore why he complains every time you take him away from his computer/nap/sports to do something like hang out the washing... but wishing that he would so you could stop feeling like you have an extra child.

16. Watching this weird mini being sleep, kick, swing or stare at nothing for as long as he will let you.

17. Experiencing a bond and connection different from any other and being amazed at the effect he can have on your heart.

18. Having a meal with your partner and realising your days are consumed by being a parent so the most exciting thing you can add to the conversation is that you tried to new nappies and they were no good.

19. Getting sheer enjoyment from dressing the small person in cute clothes and distributing photos of him to all your contacts no matter how uninterested they are.

20. And finally... knowing there is never going to be anything quite as wonderful in the world as when the baby smiles at you with his whole face...