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.

Crane Wanted

So I had my regular check-up yesterday with my lovely Obstetrician.  I will be 38 weeks pregnant on Tuesday, but according to my regular ultra-sounds, this baby is 'ahead' of time.  (Meaning the baby is a week or two ahead 'size' wise.)

Apparently baby is all ready to go and is in perfect position for labour.  (Of course, in the course of labour, this could all change!)  He stated everything looks normal and is very happy with me.  He thinks that the baby won't be as large as first expected, I could be looking at maybe a 4 kilo-er (Monet was 4.2) but that is just an estimate.  That certainly put a smile on my face when he stated that!  I still have in the back of my mind that a 5 kilo baby has to come out (*argh*) but now, maybe not....  

As we are at the 'business' end of this pregnancy (can't wait for it to end!) I am seeing my Doc every week.  Before I left he said to me "See you next week, though I might see you earlier", along with a wink.  I don't think so.  Seriously.  I do not think so.  (But any tips on getting this ball rolling, let me know!)  Lyndon is talking this seriously, what my Doctor said, after all as Lyndon said he has probably been in the business of looking after pregnant women and delivering their children for about 35 years.  I'm still not convinced.  

But my fingers are crossed.  

Health-wise I am feeling good, bar feeling a bit tired, due to crap sleeps.  Turning over in bed is such an effort (I've asked Lyndon if he could possible hire me a crane from work) and I am so. sick. of. sleeping. with. pillows. around. my. body.  But otherwise, I no complain!

Apparently I Am A Masterchef

My new Food Processor tells me I am.

I bought a new Food Processor yesterday, mainly because my old one,which was a whole two years old, decided that it only had two speeds.  Those two speeds were either 'not at all' or 'flat-chat'.  Not the most safest thing to use in a country which has dodgy electrical wiring and sell shoddy electrical converters.  Lyndon told me to 'piff it' and get a new one, if I really wanted a new one.

Seeing that I have only ever had a Food Processor for two years, I first thought it was a luxury kitchen item that I probably could have continued living on without.  But alas no.  Owning one of these kitchen products is not a luxury if you enjoy cooking and cook often.  I discovered I could not live without one. (Exaggerated slightly of course!) It seems that in every second recipe I have, it states to use a mix master (I *heart* mine) or a Food Processor.  And of course with a baby on the way, it is handy to have one on hand when the little one begins solids.  (That's my excuse anyway, okay!)

After much researching, 'ooo-ing and ahh-ing', justifying, wondering etc., I bit the bullet yesterday.  Finally.  And the one I chose tells me I am a Masterchef 8000.

As I opened the box I came across gadget after gadget.  Some I am not 100% sure what to do with.

But as a bonus it also has a jug in it so I can 'blend' (and 'piff' out my 12 year blender, which is nearing the end of its life).

Let's hope this one lasts longer than my previous one!

Pretty, Oh So Pretty!

I love pretty things.  Must be the female in me...

I bought this pretty tray from IKEA the other week.  I've been asked a few times where I have got it from and I am unable to buy another due to no stock of them left!

I love 'Mothercare' and I really should avoid walking through it's doors at anytime.  We were after a 'Moses Basket' and I knew they sold them.  I find it very pretty.

And speaking of 'Mothercare', how could I resist these gorgeous skirts for Monet, which were on sale (70% off!), so that makes them even prettier!

The bottle of 2000 Vintage Moet&Chandon waiting for me to pop so I can pop.  Just one glass and I will be happy.   Moet champagne just has to be pretty!

Monet.  Because I think she is even more prettier than yesterday.  And she can be pretty coooool.

Here are a few links to some friend's sites who sell pretty things; 

• Stacey from Sheeps Clothing, because I wear her clips religiously (because I think they are very pretty.)
  
• Lee from H&B, because she is an awesome photographer who has started up her own business and I need her to take some pretty photos of my girl and the newbie.
• Leisa & Nicole from Mookah, who I've known forever and sell some pretty homewares.
• And how can I not link to the site 'Pretty Green', as Liam Gallagher is looking very handsome these days and his clothes are pretty awesome for blokes!

:-)

Hot and HOT

It is about time our skies stopped looking like this;

A couple of weeks back our blue skies were thick with sand (from Kuwait apparently) and outside was dim.  It did give you the feeling that it was going to rain (alas no!) and sometimes at night, with the air conditioners running and your head on the pillow in a particular way, it really sounded like it was raining outside.  Of course it wasn't but it was a nice thought.

We don't step foot outside our villa much these days.  The only time is when we have to go to the bin, to collect the water bottles from the 'Water Man' or to get to the car outside our front door!  Otherwise we are inside.  Does our heads in some days but we really don't have a big choice.

Imagine Monet's surprise last week when I said at around 9am, "C'mon, I'll take you to the pool!"  Talk about excited.  And with good reason....

Bliss.

A nice change too for the water to actually be cooler than the air temperature.

But last night when I went outside to the wheelie-bin (exciting, I know), I noticed the air was thick - it was HOT.  I know I am pregnant and when you are pregnant you feel about 20 degrees warmer than everyone else but I know HOT from hot.  I checked on the internet.  It read 'currently 41 degrees, feels like 48'.  

It was 8 pm.  

I knew I wasn't imagining it.

So, can you imagine how hot it is outside in the midday sun?  

(Think of those who have to work in it.  There is currently a rule that all Labourers have a 3 hour break between the hours of 1pm till 4pm.  Now, imagine working in this heat during Ramadan when water and food is not allowed to be taken between sunrise and sunset.)