Every moment spent with Tilly is precious but never has it been more apparent than today. Her first settling in session at nursery. I was allowed to spend the hour with her so she got used to the space and surroundings. In that hour I could feel tears forming when they asked me when she started, I could hear my voice cracking as I answered and I looked to the floor to hide my tear stained face. Note to self - don't wear mascara tomorrow or next Tuesday.
I thought that today would be easier than it was, I wasn't leaving her just going to visit a new space with her to get her used to it. I hadn't realised how nervous I was until I had to make several trips to the loo before I left, something that usually demonstrates my fear before big events like job interviews.
Matilda seemed unconcerned about the new environment and sat down happily chewing at the toy car she'd found on the floor. I sat awkwardly on the floor behind her in case she fell backwards. There were two other babies and one toddler in the room with two nursery nurses. After a few minutes and some polite chat they asked if I was staying, of course I was staying, it had been agreed but I don't think they had been told. They didn't interact much with Matilda and she sat staring and chewing on the new toy she'd found on the floor. It was about 10 minutes in, after they questioned when she was starting properly that I the realisation of what was happening suddenly sank in - I'm leaving my baby, I'm going to leave her with strangers in a strange place. I'm not going to be with her 24/7, I'm going to miss her, her smiles, her babbling, her squeals, even her cries and her poo! I could feel my heart pound with fear. She is my precious daughter, my tiny daughter. I've never quite felt this way before, my heart is completely full of love for the little creature, she is the most precious little thing, my prize possession. I completely understand why people kill for those they love. I never want her to hurt or be hurt, I want her to have a wonderful charmed life. I'm sure these people are very good at their jobs, they seem good with the children but they are going to be responsible for my baby, my wonderful baby girl for 3 days a week and I'm scared. I don't want to leave her. I want to be like the lady in the Brittas Empire and take her to work with me and put her in the drawer by my desk (humm I wonder if David would mind?). I love her so much and I want to know what she is doing, to see every smile, hear every giggle, experience every new moment with her but I know that as of next week that will not be possible. My little girl is growing up, this is her first step to become and more independent and sociable little person.
The hour was up. I left the nursery holding her so tightly, I don't want to let her go, I don't want to leave her - ever. As I walked out of the door, I held her in a tight grip and kissed her head, she tried to pull away from me in that kind of 'get off me mum' moment - oh no, it was starting already. As I strapped her in the car seat, the tears started again - not hers but mine. My eyes welled up with tears and as I got in the front seat and drove away they slowly dripped down my face, over my mouth, I could taste their salty wetness and then as they flowed they fell onto my lap. The road became bleary through the tears and I wiped them away not just to see the road but to see the wonderful sight in my rear view mirror, I could see my little girl in the back seat. I was crying and I haven't even left her, how ridiculous.
I got home and cuddled her some more, she looked at me quizzically - there I was with mascara stains down my face, smiling through the tears. Once I'd pulled myself together I phoned Richard, as soon as I heard his voice I broke down once again. The nursery wasn't good enough for my daughter, I was having second thoughts etc etc. Of course nowhere will be good enough and I was having a wobble with this scary moment. If I am like this today, what on earth and I going to be like tomorrow??!
I finished feeding Tilly and put her upstairs to bed. As she was about to go down to sleep she vomited all over me but I didn't mind, I love everything about her. Just then I could hear a key in the door and Richard had come home to give me a hug as he said it sounded as if I needed it. Yes I did, I needed a big hug and a cry. After lunch he went back to work and once Tilly was awake I took her out shopping, we needed a bit of retail therapy to help us (or me) feel a little better. It worked momentarily, I was happy but now I'm petrified again.
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Have you got the Calpol ready?
"Why didn't you tell me before?" that is what I've been asking everyone all day.
Today was our 8 week check up and Tilly's first set of injections. I thought I was well prepared for them, but I wasn't. We walked down to the doctors and there was a cock up to start with as they'd sent me two appointment times, the first I was given was 10.10am which I was told was for me first and then Tilly's injections straight afterwards. Then I was sent a card in the post confirming Tilly's injections at 9.05am. I rushed to get ready and walked down to the surgery only to be told by the receptionist that I should have ignored the second card (that was sent by the PCT). How was I supposed to know that? So I traipsed back up the steep hill to get back home, have a cup of tea and marched back down the hill for 10.10am.
We saw Rita our health visitor who checked Tilly's weight and head circumference. All was OK. She asked if I had got the Calpol ready. Calpol. No. I didn't think she could even take it yet?
Next was the doctor, I was under the impression she'd check my stitches, she didn't. I don't know whether to be relieved (it's never nice cocking your leg up to show your bits!) or miffed, grim I know but I'd like to know officially that it has healed nicely. Anyway, she popped Tilly on the bed and manhandled her (not roughly) but not as delicately as I or Richard have been moving her about. She pulled her up to a sitting position from lying just using her arms, her head looked so heavy as it was almost levered up by the rest of her body. The doctor says she is a very bright little girl. She may say this to all the mums but I'd like to think she doesn't. Then that question again, have you got a bottle of Calpol at home? Why had they both asked this question??
Next was the nurse for Tilly's first set of injections. The question was asked again, have you got the Calpol ready? Right. This obviously isn't a question, it is more of an instruction. No I haven't got any Calpol but I guess I need to buy some immediately. Why don't they put this stuff down on the appointment card?
When she had her guthrie test, the midwife recommended that I breastfed her so she wouldn't cry so much. It gives her something to concentrate on and is comforting. As it worked so well I thought I'd do it with the injections and I asked the nurse if it was OK. I started to get ready and Tilly looked delighted that she was having another feed. She latched on beautfiully and then her first leg was injected. She screamed, no normal scream but a scream that nearly broke my heart. A scream full of pain and horror. Poor thing, she had no idea what was happening and how could I explain that it was for her own good? I desperately tried to get her to continue breastfeeding. She whimpered and went back on, tears were rolling down her face. I've got a feeling I should have a bottle of Calpol ready.
This was not the end, this was only the first injection, there were two. The other one was in the other leg and I had to turn Tilly over so the nurse could access the other thigh. Taken off the comfort of the breast to move to the other side, Tilly started to scream with short breaks for whimpering and lots of tears streamed down her face. The tears started to well up in my eyes as I could feel her pain and felt helpless to be able to stop it. The other leg was injected and I was sent packing. Not surprisingly I made a beeline straight for the chemists to buy some Calpol.
Putting Tilly back in the pram was agony, I just wanted to hold her and tell her it was OK, but it wasn't. Of course it wasn't, she had just had two big injections in each leg. I made my way across the road, down the row of shops with my own 'musical' pram. We entered the chemists and there was a big queue, it was my worst nightmare. I hate Tilly crying and all I want to do is cope with it in private. I can't stand simpering looks from mothers or disgusted looks wondering why I can't console my baby. I started exclaiming loudly so everyone could hear "she's just had her injections". Why do I need to tell everyone? The girl from our antenatal class (who didn't want it to affect her life) was there with her baby Roxy Lee. Roxy is only 10 days older than Matilda but she is already sitting upright in her pram looking like she's 4 months old. Her mother seemed to know all about Calpol and said that I can alternate between Ibruprofen and Calpol. Blimey 40 minutes ago I didn't know she could take any drugs yet and now I'm getting told I can give her multiple doses. If her daughter needed multiple drugs then surely I am in for a rough ride today. Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? I had to wait in the queue which seemed to be moving really slowly, each step I took Tilly's screams got louder and louder. I started to sweat and was feeling so stressed. Exasperated I got to the front and they knew what I needed.
I got out of the chemists and practically ran up the steep hill, Tilly was screaming louder and louder and I just wanted to be teleported home immediately. As I passed Whoberley Community Centre I saw Michelle from the SureStart team. Matilda is always crying when I see her and here I am walking down the street with her screaming once again. I shouted once more across the road "Injections!" in a manic voice with a forced smile and a shrug of the shoulders. I was rushing home by this point. I'd bearly got my coat off and I was ripping the box open and pouring it out onto the spoon and straight down Tilly's neck. I fed her again, not because she was hungry but because I knew it made her feel safe (and shut her up, she couldn't scream with my breast in her mouth). She feel asleep in my arms, I was going to put her down but she continued to whimper and every so often wail in her sleep. I just cradled her in my arms all afternoon. I felt sad as she was in pain and I never want her to be in pain ever again. it hurts me so much. I felt like a bad mother.
I phoned my mum to tell her she'd had her injections. Before I had the chance to say much more she asked "Did you have the Calpol ready?"
Eh? You knew that already?? Why are you telling me that now? It is too late now? From now on, it is going to be my own personal mission to tell anyone I know about the Calpol before their first set of injections.
Today was our 8 week check up and Tilly's first set of injections. I thought I was well prepared for them, but I wasn't. We walked down to the doctors and there was a cock up to start with as they'd sent me two appointment times, the first I was given was 10.10am which I was told was for me first and then Tilly's injections straight afterwards. Then I was sent a card in the post confirming Tilly's injections at 9.05am. I rushed to get ready and walked down to the surgery only to be told by the receptionist that I should have ignored the second card (that was sent by the PCT). How was I supposed to know that? So I traipsed back up the steep hill to get back home, have a cup of tea and marched back down the hill for 10.10am.
We saw Rita our health visitor who checked Tilly's weight and head circumference. All was OK. She asked if I had got the Calpol ready. Calpol. No. I didn't think she could even take it yet?
Next was the doctor, I was under the impression she'd check my stitches, she didn't. I don't know whether to be relieved (it's never nice cocking your leg up to show your bits!) or miffed, grim I know but I'd like to know officially that it has healed nicely. Anyway, she popped Tilly on the bed and manhandled her (not roughly) but not as delicately as I or Richard have been moving her about. She pulled her up to a sitting position from lying just using her arms, her head looked so heavy as it was almost levered up by the rest of her body. The doctor says she is a very bright little girl. She may say this to all the mums but I'd like to think she doesn't. Then that question again, have you got a bottle of Calpol at home? Why had they both asked this question??
Next was the nurse for Tilly's first set of injections. The question was asked again, have you got the Calpol ready? Right. This obviously isn't a question, it is more of an instruction. No I haven't got any Calpol but I guess I need to buy some immediately. Why don't they put this stuff down on the appointment card?
When she had her guthrie test, the midwife recommended that I breastfed her so she wouldn't cry so much. It gives her something to concentrate on and is comforting. As it worked so well I thought I'd do it with the injections and I asked the nurse if it was OK. I started to get ready and Tilly looked delighted that she was having another feed. She latched on beautfiully and then her first leg was injected. She screamed, no normal scream but a scream that nearly broke my heart. A scream full of pain and horror. Poor thing, she had no idea what was happening and how could I explain that it was for her own good? I desperately tried to get her to continue breastfeeding. She whimpered and went back on, tears were rolling down her face. I've got a feeling I should have a bottle of Calpol ready.
This was not the end, this was only the first injection, there were two. The other one was in the other leg and I had to turn Tilly over so the nurse could access the other thigh. Taken off the comfort of the breast to move to the other side, Tilly started to scream with short breaks for whimpering and lots of tears streamed down her face. The tears started to well up in my eyes as I could feel her pain and felt helpless to be able to stop it. The other leg was injected and I was sent packing. Not surprisingly I made a beeline straight for the chemists to buy some Calpol.
Putting Tilly back in the pram was agony, I just wanted to hold her and tell her it was OK, but it wasn't. Of course it wasn't, she had just had two big injections in each leg. I made my way across the road, down the row of shops with my own 'musical' pram. We entered the chemists and there was a big queue, it was my worst nightmare. I hate Tilly crying and all I want to do is cope with it in private. I can't stand simpering looks from mothers or disgusted looks wondering why I can't console my baby. I started exclaiming loudly so everyone could hear "she's just had her injections". Why do I need to tell everyone? The girl from our antenatal class (who didn't want it to affect her life) was there with her baby Roxy Lee. Roxy is only 10 days older than Matilda but she is already sitting upright in her pram looking like she's 4 months old. Her mother seemed to know all about Calpol and said that I can alternate between Ibruprofen and Calpol. Blimey 40 minutes ago I didn't know she could take any drugs yet and now I'm getting told I can give her multiple doses. If her daughter needed multiple drugs then surely I am in for a rough ride today. Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? I had to wait in the queue which seemed to be moving really slowly, each step I took Tilly's screams got louder and louder. I started to sweat and was feeling so stressed. Exasperated I got to the front and they knew what I needed.
I got out of the chemists and practically ran up the steep hill, Tilly was screaming louder and louder and I just wanted to be teleported home immediately. As I passed Whoberley Community Centre I saw Michelle from the SureStart team. Matilda is always crying when I see her and here I am walking down the street with her screaming once again. I shouted once more across the road "Injections!" in a manic voice with a forced smile and a shrug of the shoulders. I was rushing home by this point. I'd bearly got my coat off and I was ripping the box open and pouring it out onto the spoon and straight down Tilly's neck. I fed her again, not because she was hungry but because I knew it made her feel safe (and shut her up, she couldn't scream with my breast in her mouth). She feel asleep in my arms, I was going to put her down but she continued to whimper and every so often wail in her sleep. I just cradled her in my arms all afternoon. I felt sad as she was in pain and I never want her to be in pain ever again. it hurts me so much. I felt like a bad mother.
I phoned my mum to tell her she'd had her injections. Before I had the chance to say much more she asked "Did you have the Calpol ready?"
Eh? You knew that already?? Why are you telling me that now? It is too late now? From now on, it is going to be my own personal mission to tell anyone I know about the Calpol before their first set of injections.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)