Five

You all know we've had a rather hectic week all with my dad arriving from Oz, me having Lily and we must not forget that my oldest daughter, Monet turned five.  FIVE!  When did that happen?

I was scared that Monet might actually have to share a birth day with a sibling but alas no, September 7th will still be Monet's special day.  I'm not 100% sure how happy Monet was having her birthday without her Mum being there all day to share with her, but she had her Dad and her Grandad around to try and make it a memorable one.   

I do know that she loved the present we gave her;

I *so* recommend these IKEA chairs to anyone with children - Monet adores her.  When she's happy she can sit and spin and watch telly and colour (or whatever) or if she's grumpy and needs 'me' time, down comes the 'hood' and she can disappear from the world.  I have never seen her use a present so much as she does with this special chair.  (And I'm guessing she annoys Grandad somewhat with her game of 'where's Monet?' using that chair!)

Yesterday, late morning, we had a party for her.  All Five-year-olds need to have a birthday party with friends.  With six other children, she celebrated with a table full of food and party games and generally having a nice time.  And I even made her a big Number 5 cake which she was rapt with. 

It has been a little of a rough week for our Monet, I can't blame her.  It is a lot to take in, now having a role of being a big sister, who has spent the past 5 years being an only child.  Having to share Mum has been a bit tough but we are getting there.  

She is an adoring big sister who likes to help out (she's doing a fine job) and she tells me that the best birthday present she got was her little sister Lily.  

Love you Monzie. You've made me proud, you 5 year-old you!  xx

We Can't Believe She's Finally Here...

Welcome to the world (and many blog posts about) Lily Venice...

Born Sunday September 6th, 17:09, 3.98 kilos, 55cm long.  And absolutely beautiful.

Spitting image of her big sister when she was born, practically 5 years to the day.  Scary stuff.

Not Long Now

Still here folks.  Baby not due for a couple of days yet so we are sitting pretty and we're all feeling a little anxious, a little scared, a little excited.  The Neighbours are all in preparation too...

I had my Doctor appointment today - all is well and now we sit and wait.  Woot!

My dad arrives from Melbourne, early tomorrow morning, in time to see Monet before she goes to school and lands in time for Father's Day.  Planned that well didn't he?  I'm actually sitting on a dark coloured leather chair that arrived today which I told Lyndon is his Father's Day present.  Funny that I bought two so it is a present we can share.  You have no idea how comfortable they are and how perfect they are for sitting with a laptop on your lap!

Lyndon spent early yesterday afternoon putting some bamboo sheeting up against our back picket fence to offer a little more privacy for us.  Monet spent a bit of time outdoors late yesterday enjoying the sprinkler...

Monet turns 5 on Monday.  FIVE!  Can you believe it?  Makes you wonder what happened to those years in between her birth and her 5th birthday, but then I look at her and talk to her and notice that she's turned into an intelligent, well-travelled, little school girl.  Unreal.   

We've discussed with her the possibility that she may gain a sibling on her birthday; she wasn't too keen at first but she's okay with the fact now.  She told me she actually would like to have a new brother or sister born on her birthday...well, she says that now...  

Hope all is well with you.

An Anniversary I Wish We Didn't Have To Remember

September Third is one of those dates that is etched in Lyndon and my minds forever.  For different reasons at the time but now in union.  

Five years ago today I began the early signs of labour with Monet.  It was an exciting time, living in a lovely (rented) house in Rye, on Melbourne's Mornington Peninsular.  Lyndon had started a new job only a couple of weeks before in Melbourne's inner-city in the construction industry.  We were happy, our goals were being achieved and life was good.  

I was home alone when my first 'sign' of labour was going to happen.  I rang Lyndon excitedly and told him.  "I'll come home" he said.  (He worked over an hour drive away.)  "No, it's okay, I'm okay, you stay" was my response.  I wish instead I told him to "hell yeah, get your butt home!"  But I didn't.  

Less than sixty minutes later I received a phone call from Lyndon.  He spoke in a stuttery voice.  There were tears in that voice...I knew something was wrong.  Really wrong.  

"He's dead.  He's dead.  I'm coming home...I'm on my way home."

Dial tone.

My phone rang again.  

"I'm okay. I'm okay. But he's dead.  He died right next to me.  I'm on my way home."

Everyone's worst nightmare.  A workplace death.

He shouldn't have been allowed to drive home in such an upset state.  But I know Lyndon and he would have insisted he was okay.  

I had a call from Lyndon's dad who wanted to know if I was okay and had I spoken to Lyndon.  Lyndon had called him and Lyndon's dad had heard a news flash on the radio.

Lyndon and a fellow (apprentice) carpenter, were both working on a Construction site in Albert Park.  A new high rise apartment complex that was being built upon a famous Melbourne landmark.  As concrete was being poured a beam underneath was becoming unstable and both boys were sent down a level to re fix the beam.  Whilst concrete was still being poured above them.  Still.  Being.  Poured.  

As they were trying to fix the beam, the beam broke, concrete flowed through and the young man, not one meter away from my Lyndon, was instantly killed.  

You can read about the story here and here.

Today we remember forever young Nathan and his family.  

I'm glad it is not them remembering us, five years on.

First Day Jitters...

Well, if Monet had any, she certainly didn't show them.

Up and about at 6am, I made her come and lie in bed with me for a good 20-odd minutes to talk away.  (Monet likes telling me about her dreams which usually crack me up!) After I showered I then had to help her get all ready for school.  You must understand that I live with Little Miss Independent, so a request from her to help her get dressed was a shock! 

 

We got to school early.   Typical of me and typical of her.  As Ramadan is on, all school begins at 8:30, rather than 8am, and finishes at 12:45, rather than 1pm.  Lyndon arrived from work and the three of us made our way to the meeting point for all children, which is the School Gym. 

Monet is in, what they call KG2, which is equivalent to the Australian Prep.  What they have done at Monet's school is stagger the entry for her year, so she went yesterday (Sunday, first day of the working week) but now has two days off.  The whole class begins on Wednesday.  This way Monet got to know her teacher (& the Teacher's helper) a little better and make a couple of friends, rather than be bombarded with another 16 kids in her class all at the same time. 

When Lyndon and I left at around 9am there were no tears but big smiles and sighs of relief.  "Bye Mum, bye Dad" said Monet in a big, happy voice, sitting crossed legged on the mat.  Smiling.  

When I picked her up close to four hours later she was still smiling away, glad to see me, but still smiling away.  

Her teacher said that Monet had to draw a picture of her favourite things during the day, and you know what she drew?  Her family.  Now, that was when I could have cried!  

A successful day all round.  She slept like a log last night and is itching to get back to school come Wednesday.  So am I.

Another Date?

No, this post has nothing to do with my pregnancy but everything to do with Dates.  A recipe for a Date Loaf to be precise.  I know I have a Recipe Blog which hasn't been updated for yonks (but I still use it often) but I thought I'd note the recipe here.  I actually got it from the lovely (also preggers) Jeanie, from 'Jeanie in Paradise'.  (I trust she doesn't mind me sharing it with you all - I'm not sure where she got the recipe herself from.)

I have baked it twice now - it is so easy to whip up and very delicious (especially warm!). I suggest you give it a go! 

Date Loaf

Ingredients

1 cup water

1 cup sugar

2 tablespoons butter

1 teaspoon bi-carb soda

175g (6oz) dates, chopped

2 cups self raising flour

1 egg

Method

In a saucepan, bring to the boil the water, sugar, butter, bi-carb and dates.  When boiled, take off heat and add flour and egg.  Mix.  Pour into a greased loaf tin (I line mine with baking paper, extending 5cm over the sides) and bake in a Moderate oven for 30-45 mins.

Enjoy.

Trust me, you will.

38

I was 38 weeks pregnant yesterday.  I don't think there could possibly be any more room for my body to expand...

...My tummy is as hard as a rock.  At times the shape of it is quite lopsided and I can sit there at night and watch it change shape.  Pretty freaky stuff really.  Monet gets quite a thrill when she sees it move and none of us can wait to meet this newbie.

I'm having a funny week.  I know all about hormones and what they do to you when pregnant, but I have also been thinking a lot about my previous pregnancy and this was the week last year, which is etched terribly into my mind.  Probably the worst week of my life to be honest.  

Even though I never try and dwell on the past, I did want to share my story with you of what happened....

When given our options last year, the Cairns Base Hospital were truly wonderful.  As much bagging that hospital does get at times (you have to be a FNQ-er to understand) they were terrific.  As I opted for a CVS (Chorionic Villus Sampling), the hospital flew me down to Brisbane for the day as that procedure is not done at Cairns.   The risk of doing the CVS was something we had considered.  Statistics show that there is a small percentage of miscarriage in doing the procedure (waters could break) but Lyndon and I felt that we 'had' to know how our baby was.  The next possible test could only be done a few weeks later and we felt we didn't have time.  We would not have been able to relax...

I went alone, even though Lyndon was keen to go, I knew this was something I had to do by myself.  I like to 'stress' alone and I knew I would be stressed and anything I was feeling, poor innocent Lyndon would get the brunt of it.  

I had the procedure done and I can honestly say it was the most painful procedure I had ever endured.  Worst than childbirth!  People told me, oh no, it isn't painful, but let me tell you - I thought it was!   I left the hospital and headed back to the airport feeling confident.  I was so glad the procedure was done and dusted and actually felt calm and happy.  (Probably more relieved than anything).  I was back on the plane before I knew it and back to my little family.

I was told to take it easy, which I was, when the following lunch time I felt big pains.  Big pains.  I was told this could happen.  I went and laid down but the pain wouldn't stop.  Lyndon forced me to ring up the hospital who told me to come in.  We drove in and went to Emergency.  I was seen quickly (got obs done) then waited again in the waiting room.  Lyndon had taken Monet out for a walk and run around on the Esplanade, I went to the toilet.  I discovered I was bleeding and then I was taken immediately into the Emergency ward, once I called Lyndon to return.  

I can remember the pain - oh the pain - and was given doses of morphine (hello!) to stop it, which it did.  My Obstetrician came and they could still find a heartbeat on the fetus, much to my relief.  But being a late Saturday they could not get a sonographer in to take a proper look.  I was seen by numerous doctors, nurses who were all great and it was decided that I should stay in hospital for observation.  I was given a drip and was wheeled away into a ward to spend the night.  And the next day.  

I was the first patient the sonographer saw on the Monday morning and I will never forget being wheeled down and being told that no heartbeat could be found.  I had known inside that the baby had died, but to have it confirmed was dreadful.  So dreadful.  I remember sitting back in the wheelchair and waiting for someone to take me back up into my ward, crying my eyes out.  One nurse walked by and gave me some comfort - though she had no idea why I was blubbering away, I was so grateful for her shoulder.  And the box of tissues she offered.

To cut a long story short, the following day I was induced (after some counselling) and ended up having to have a curet at around midnight.  

I had spent 5 days, 4 nights in hospital and was relieved to be able to go home, back to my daughter and husband and my waiting mother.  

The weeks that followed I was given much support and sympathy (many of you included, especially Trish & Lani), but I also felt guilt about having the CVS, which deep down I knew caused me to miscarriage at 14 weeks. 

At least the organising of moving to Abu Dhabi kept my mind occupied.  I did receive a phone call from the hospital telling me my results were in.  I wasn't ready (as such) to be told about the fetus, I opted my results be sent to my parent's address in Victoria, where I would be in a week or so.  I knew then, I could open the envelope in private and deal with what was on the paper as best as I could.  

When I did open that envelope in the weeks that followed, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  Physically.  And mentally.   My results showed that the fetus had Trisomy 18.  Just one of those things that happen at conception and not hereditary.  Just. One. Of. Those. Things. 

In a way I am glad that I had to go through what I did.  Made me appreciate this pregnancy more and it made me so much more aware how precious actually having a baby/child actually is.  As much as I might whinge about this big lump of a body with this big bubba inside, I could not be more pleased.  Or happier.

When Did She Become Such A Big (little) Girl?

If I could, I would post piccies of Monet here with her new school uniform, but I don't want the whole world knowing what school she is attending here in Abu Dhabi.

All I can say is that she looks so incredibly cute!  I don't know how or when she became such a big school kid.  

Today we paid our school fees and bought her uniform, direct from the school.  She is excited to now be the owner of a school pinafore, two polo shirts, sports shorts and a skort (cross between a skirt and shorts), oh and mustn't forget the mandatory library bag.

We bought her school shoes and socks last week, so now she is all kitted out. 

 

Next Sunday is the BIG day.  She is already so excited, it is a wonder she can sleep at night.  

Then in two weeks today, Monet will be turning 5.  FIVE!  My goodness.  

And hopefully somewhere in between (or a little after) Monet will be a big sister.  

So much to look forward to.  And all in such little time.