TWO

Today our baby turns two. And I guess that means she's not really a baby anymore. Coralie has changed so much in the last 6 months; she says so much and her little personality shines through more every day. She is a beautiful child, inside and out, and radiates joy. We are so lucky to have her in our family, so lucky to call her ours. She makes my heart burst with pride every day.

Inevitably we spent yesterday and this morning reminiscing about these days two years ago. How strange it was to think of a time when Coralie wasn't here; how we didn't know if our baby was a boy or girl. Tonight, at 11.30pm Ben and I will recall those last moments in the birthing pool in our bathroom. That final push. Meeting our daughter for the first time, and the drama that followed. Staying up until 4.30am, buzzing and unable to sleep. And tomorrow we'll be thinking about how our girls met for the first time. And how it was love at first sight.

It's an emotional time, birthdays.

Darling Coralie, you light up the world. We all adore you so much, and thank you for making us laugh all day, every day with your funny little ways. As you turn two years old you...

*love playing with your babies ("oh, baby!") and spend hours pushing them round in the pram and rocking them. Also doing their pretend cries, which is both confusing (are you crying, or the baby?!) and hilarious.
*are also obsessed with cars and motorbikes - making your Grandpa very proud, I'm sure!
*love the Playmobil 'guys', and they're are never far from you. We often find them in you backpack. Stashed away so Phiney can't find them.
*love reading books, and Pip & Posy are your favourites. As are The Tiger who came to Tea and Charlie Cook.
*run everywhere. I think I've seen you walk once. Those little legs will carry you awesome places, I'm sure.
* adore your big sister (Nee-Nee), and we often refer to you as 'Shadow' as you copy everything she does. One of my favourite things in the world is to listen to you in the morning over the monitor chatting and laughing and singing together.
*also love your best friend George ("Georgie!!") and his big brothers. What a gorgeous bunch of kiddos you are.
*eat ANYTHING. In the last year there have been some serious extremes of this (sand, snails, ladybirds...!!) But I think your favourite foods right now are corn on the cob, grapes, cream cheese, housmous and sausages. Every day... 'what would you like for dinner, Coralie?' 'Mmmmm, sausages?!'
*love animals, but especially bugs. Spiders, ants and woodlice are your favourites and you'll spend ages patiently trying to catch them in the garden.
*give the most awesome cuddles ("squeeeeeeeze!") and kisses. Sometimes you slip a tongue in, which is gross and funny at the same time.
*looooove your Mama. Definitely having a mama-phase right now, which I am totally embracing! Give me all the cuddles.
*also want to sing another song before bedtime. Top of the list is Twinkle Twinkle, Rock a Bye Baby, The Hokey Cokey, If you're Happy and you Know it and Mama Mia. Yes, the ABBA song.
*are obsessed with ABBA (Super Trooper and Mama Mia are you favourites and they're on repeat in the car) Nirvana's Live and Unplugged in New York album and Never Had a Friend Like Me from the Disney CD. You also love some drum and bass. And Dolly Parton.
*want to wear your wellies every where.
*still won't wear a hat.
*love bath time.
*hate nappy changes.

Happy birthday Coralie Joe! We love you xxxxxxxx

CORALIE'S BIRTH STORY

That night, that Tuesday, as I swayed back and forth on the gym ball in our living room I could feel our baby getting close; closer to coming into this world, into our family. I got ready to go to bed trying to breathe through the excitement at what the night could bring, to allow myself to rest just in case. I checked on Josephine, watched her little body rise up and down, unable to believe that we would soon to be welcoming another baby; it seems like she was only born a few months ago herself. I'm sure every parent feels nervous when preparing to bring a new baby into the family, and as I watched Josephine I felt some pangs of sadness at the end of an era, the end of our family of three. But I quickly remembered the pure, unbridled joy and excitement Josephine felt towards her new brother or sister arriving. I knew she would make such a lovely and brilliant big sister, and how this next chapter would be even more wonderful than the last.

I laid in bed and drifted off, only to be woken at 1am with a deep ache in my tummy. The waves ebbed and flowed and with Ben asleep beside me, I kept my eyes closed and my lips loose as I felt the contractions get stronger. And then weaker, and weaker until they had all but dissappeared. I urged my body to open up, welcoming the contractions, but to no avail. I drifted back off to sleep and was dissapointed to wake at 7am to Ben's alarm. I told Ben about the night's developments, but could feel no further movement, so got out of bed to go and start making breakfast. Halfway down the stairs I felt the waves begin once more, and the excitement rose inside me again. Ben asked if I thought he should go to work but I couldn't tell just yet, I needed to give my body a little more time.

I went into get Josephine up, made her some porridge and folded some washing as the contractions deepened, slowly but surely. I turned to Ben and told him to stay at home, that I thought this was it. We tried to contain our excitement, our nerves, for Josephine's sake, and continued to potter around the house, calling the midwife to let her know we thought today was the day and that we'd keep her informed.

When we decided on a home birth, the biggest decision was what would happen to Josephine. If the baby decided to come in the night, I was happy to leave her sleeping, but deep in my heart I knew I wouldn't be able to completely let go knowing she was in the next room. My sister Dora was more than happy to look after Josephine (and excited to play a part in the labour process) and had notified her work that at any moment, she'd have to leave and come collect Phiney. I text her to let her know what was happening and that I'd keep her updated.

I will always remember those couple of hours with Josephine. She happily helped Ben blow up the birthing pool in our bathroom, prepping it all with such care and excitement. She 'tested it out' for me, and deemed it perfect, asking if Daddy could fill it up and she could have a go in the paddling pool.

The waves got stronger and stronger and by 10am I found myself stopping to breathe through them. Crouching at the bottom of the stairs, kneeling on all fours, with Josephine beside me. She copied every move. Taking deep breaths in and out, letting her head hang and her hips sway with mine. My sweet girl, it made me smile so big.

We called the midwife, Mary, who said she'd be round in the next couple of hours, unless everything sped up and we needed her sooner, and text Dora to let her know that things were moving and asked her to come as soon as she could. We packed Josephine a little bag of clothes and she gathered her favourite toys to take with her. As we chatted I could feel the contractions easing off, and I knew my body was slowing down, waiting for Josephine to go on her own little adventure with Dora – this was her first time ever staying away from Ben and I think she was as excited about that as she was the baby arriving.

When Dora arrived, we kissed and cuddled Josephine and I could feel tears welling inside me. The anticipation was buidling and I remembered what was to come. We tried not to make too big a deal of Josephine going, and laughed at how next time we saw her we'd have a little baby. She marched off so happily with Dora that my mind was instantly put at ease, and I knew I could now dedicate myself to welcoming our baby safely into the world.

Still, by now the contractions had almost ceased, and we decided a walk before our midwife arrived would be a good idea. We put on our shoes and coats and as we opened our front door, our midwives walked round the corner. Back inside we all chatted and laughed and I felt so lucky to have the opportunity to birth at home with such wonderful women at hand to support us. I was examined, and found to be only a cm or two dilated, but everything was progressing and as they left Mary told us to head out on that walk; to keep gently moving and to keep them informed.

We walked the same roads we did when I was in labour with Josephine, tighly holding hands, quietly talking about what was to come, and silently hoping things would progress quicker than they did with Phiney.

The hours ticked by and the waves became more intense. My deep breathing turned into soft moaning as each contraction built. I could feel our baby moving down, feel my body opening up and I welcomed it all with open arms, urging each wave to get stronger and stronger.

We decied to call Mary again as clearly things were moving in the right direction, and she arrived quickly and examined me. I was 4cm, and my heart sank. I couldn't stop the negative thoughts creep into my head, and I squeezed Ben's hand with worry at the idea of another long labour. Mary talked to us both about how well I was doing, how things were progressing nicely and asked if we wanted her to stay. I told her I was worried it was moving too slowly, but she reassuringly told us that things can suddenly really move quickly with the second baby, and she felt sure the baby would be here by the end of the day. It was about 3.30pm and it felt like there was still too much of the day to go for that to be a comfort! She told us that she lived about 50 minutes away, and so often she would just walk through the door only to hear from a couple that things had stepped up a notch and to come straight back. I couldn't see that happening with us, and we were happy to be left alone again, so she left leaving us feeling positive about what was to come.

Within 15 minutes of her leaving the strength of each contraction was rising steadily and I felt myself tensing up as the waves broke, one after another. I quickly started thinking of pain and wanting it all to stop and, as I leaned over the gym ball, the tears came fast and furiously. Ben held my hand and talked me through long, slow breaths, telling me to keep my lips and face loose and relaxed and reminding me that my body was built to do this; that I could do this and that I was doing this. But it was too much. I couldn't do it, I didn't have the strength. I didn't know what to do.

Ben's words became a blur as I buried my face into the gym ball and soon I realised he had left the room. I lifted my head and looked at the picture of me, Josephine and my Dad on the table, and I crumbled. The emotions of the last five months poured out and my heart broke again. The enormity of my Dad not being here, not meeting our baby and seeing it grow, hit me like a tonne of bricks. And so did the fear. The fear I'd spent months trying to push down, to ignore. The fear of life's fragility. How quickly things can go from good to bad. I had spent so long pushing those thoughts to the back of my head and now here they came, flooding me entirely and I just crumbled. I wondered how I could do this, get our baby out. I cried to my Dad, wishing for him to be back with me. I felt so tired, emotionally and physically. I had nothing left to give and yet so much further to go before I birthed our baby. I was overwhelmed.

Ben came back in and sat with me on the floor. He told me he had called Mary again and she had, as she predicted!, just got home, but would be back with us asap. I asked him why he had done that, that nothing would have really changed, and he told me that he thought things really had progressed; that my behaviour and the noises I was making made him think we needed Mary back with us. She arrived less than an hour and a half after she left, at about 5pm, and when she examined me I had dilated another 3cm, and was now 7cm. It was time to get in the pool (hooray!) Mary would stay with us until her shift finished at 8pm; this was it. Baby was coming.

The relief of the pool was undescribable. The warm water coated my body and eased my tension. I was able to move so freely and I immediately relaxed. Of course, that may have been helped by the gas and air that Mary offered me! After refusing it for so long during my labour with Josephine, I happily accepted it this time. My breathing became long and controlled again and I quietly moaned with each wave.

Mary came and sat with us now and again – checking my blood pressure and baby's heartrate – and chatting with us as the hours slipped by. I was examined again and was 8cm; great news after my experience with a cervix that decided to stop dilating around the same point with Josephine.

Those hours really past in a blur. I flickered between moments of calm, and moments of panic; crying that I wasn't able to do it, squeezing Ben's hand. All the time feeling our baby moving down, doing so well, kicking and moving happily; so excited to come out and meet it's Mama and Daddy.

It's crazy how different labours can be from one child to the next. Despite my long (long!) labour with Josephine I was calm and collected throughout. I got in the zone and everything that was happening around me seemed a million miles away. I knew Ben was there with me, supporting me, but I happily swayed in the pool at home and on the bed in hospital, in my own little world in so many ways. This time was different though. I needed Ben right there, holding my hand, physically supporting me as well as emotionally. When my self-belief wavered, he was there to build it right back up, when my breathing became erratic he held me close and breathed with me until it calmed. When the tears fell, he cracked a joke, smiled a smile and made me laugh. He never once let go of my hand. Birthing Josephine together was an amazing experience, but this was different. He was my strength and to share every feeling with him this time, to need him, bought us closer than ever.

8pm came and with it so did a new midwife. Julie arrived and I instantly knew we were lucky to have her with us when our baby was born. She was lovely. She examined me and told us that it was almost time to push. She called another midwife, Kim, (there must be two midwives at home with you when Baby is born – one for Mama and one for Baby) who joined an Australian student midwife Lisa, and they began setting up all their equipment. A resuscitation table just in case, scales, towels, instruments.

I was still on all fours at this point but Julie realised that, while one side was fully dilated the other side of my cervix had stopped dilating, so she flipped me over in the water and had me lean more on my left hip. Within minutes I was fully dilated and it was time to push.

The relief to get to this point was indescribable. I just wanted to meet our baby, for it to be here safe and sound; to be in my arms. The atmosphere in our bathroom was amazing. The midwives were so happy and smiley, Ben held me and I felt in control of my pushing. I focused all my energy into my bottom, with a little scream escaping my lips as each push ebbed away. I could feel that the baby was so close and soon I was able to reach down and feel the soft fluffiness of Baby's hair. I was getting tired, so tired, but I knew we were so close I kept pushing with everything I had. Julie told me that the head was nearly out, I just needed a little push to help out Baby's nose, but I couldn't do it. No matter how hard I tried. I asked Julie to help me and she pulled my leg out of the water, over the side of the pool, and expertly ran her finger round Baby's head. The nose was free and with one more push the head was out.

The next few minutes were a blur. Julie and the other midwives realised that the cord was wrapped round Baby's neck and body and Baby was in a bit of a tangle and getting itself a bit stuck. Julie acted so quickly it was amazing. With Baby half in, half out, Julie managed to get her fingers round the cord and carefully detangle it. She was almost in the pool with me, and I felt so calm knowing she was looking after us. Suddenly Baby was free and out she came. Julie pulled her out of the water and on to my chest; I sank down into the warm water and breathed the biggest sigh. Ben cut the cord and told me it was a girl and we laughed and smiled as we looked at our tiny purple bundle. Julie asked me to bring her out of the water a bit as she hadn't really moved and explained that sometimes babies born in the water can be a little sleepy. Quickly though Julie decided they needed to help our little one a bit and carefully and quickly bundled her up and took her to the recusitation table, just down the hall from our bathroom. Our student midwife Lisa, stood outside the bathroom door and watched as Julie and Kim rubbed our baby girl's chest and gave her oxygen. Lisa smiled and reassured us, telling us she could see Baby's legs moving and suddenly we could hear her little squeeks and cries and we knew she was ok. Never once did we feel the need to worry or panic. She was in the safest hands.

In the quiet of the bathroom Ben and I smiled the biggest smiles, knowing we had another beautiful girl in our lives. I asked Ben what he thought we should call her, and he said 'Coralie'. My absolute favourite girl's name, but one which Ben hadn't been quite as sure about. He now said it was perfect. Coralie Joe, after my Dad. As soon as Ben said her name, the tears filled my eyes. I told Ben how much I wished my Dad was here to see her, and silently we held eachother and both cried. The last few months had been the toughest of my life and with Coralie's safe arrival I felt such a relief. I know my Dad was there with me in that moment and he'd always be looking over Coralie, and Josephine.

Soon contractions started again and I delivered my placenta naturally in the pool. Julie and Lisa kept us updated with how Coralie was doing (getting pinker by the minute!) and Ben helped me out of the pool, down the hall and onto the sofa in the kitchen. Finally I got to hold my tiny girl again. Her little fingers and toes, pink skin and black hair. She looked like me, she looked like my Dad.

Coralie's heartrate was speeding and Julie had spoken to the local hospital's Paedeatrition. He had given Coralie an hour and if her heartrate was still too fast, we'd have to go to the hospital. After 20 minutes it was slowing down, by 45 minutes it was back to normal. She had made a dramatic entrance, that was for sure, but now she was settled and calm and oh so snuggly.

I had torn a tiny bit and Julie thought it was best I had a couple of stitches so I went upstairs and laid on the bed. The adreneline and craziness of the last few hours hit me, and all I wanted to do was get back downstairs to my baby and Ben.

A true superstar, Ben had had some skin to skin time with Coralie before her heartrate needed checking again, and then headed to the bathroom to begin the mammoth cleaning job. Normally the midwives would have sorted it all, but with all the observation and working on Coralie, they were still writing notes and checking her at regular intervals. By the time I came back down, Ben had miraculously cleaned out the pool and packed it all away. My absolute hero, and the midwive's golden boy, for sure :)

Lisa and Kim headed home and Julie sat with me as I fed Coralie for the first time. Reminding me of how to position her and helping me get it right. She fed for 45minutes – a great first feed according to Julie. At 3am, 4 hours after Coralie was born, Julie left, and Ben and I headed upstairs to snuggle on the sofa with Coralie. Both wide awake with excitement. I text my Mum to tell her our news and at 4.30am we realised we should head to bed. With Coralie safe in her moses basket beside us, we all fell asleep. I loved birthing our tiny girl at home, for this reason especially. I plan to write more about our home birth experience soon.

At 10.30am (!!!) Coralie woke us with her tiny cries and I fed her. We text Dora and asked her to bring Josephine home after her lunch. And when our girls met, my heart almost burst. Josephine crept towards Coralie so carefully, and when Coralie squeeked, I saw Josephine fall in love with her, right before my eyes.

Coralie's birth was an intense one. It may not have been the shortest, but for me - compared to Josephine's - it was quick and there were moments when I was overwhelmed by it all. But it was still wonderful, although in so many ways tougher than Josephine's birth. I was in such a different place emotionally. I've written before about growing life whilst dealing with death, and Coralie's birth definitely helped heal my heart a little after loosing my Dad. It reaffirmed to me that my Dad lives on within us all and, even though she'll never meet him, within Coralie.

Birthing Coralie was a journey that was hard but empowering; I emerged from it stronger. A stronger woman, mother and wife. And it made me realise how where you labour or how your birthing story unfolds really doesn't matter. Bringing Coralie into the world I got my homebirth, my water birth, but on reflection I think a more difficult birth, despite being shorter and exactly where I hoped. We learn more about ourselves no matter what your experience; we all bring our babies into this world with love in our hearts, and it doesn't matter the route they take to get here.

ps. next time, I want a birth photographer. We have no pictures of Coralie's birth, of me in the pool, just that one blurry iPhone picture of Ben at 3.15am from the hours after she was born. And after seeing Anna's beautiful video and pictures, next time I want more.

BYE BYE BABYMOON

Yesterday Ben went back to work after two blissful weeks of paternity leave. The sun shone on the second week especially and Josephine adored spending so much time in the garden with her Papa. The one on one time those two shared while Coralie and I got to grips with feeding and enjoyed some long naps, was priceless for both of them. And with Josephine in bed by 7.30, the evening was left for snuggles with Coralie. I didn't leave the house for seven whole days, only venturing outside into our garden. It was a lovely couple of weeks, easing us all into life as a family of four. I know for sure our boy had a tear in his eye when he was getting ready for work on Thursday morning. 

And I have to admit, I went to sleep on Wednesday night a little terrified of what my first day of solo parenting with TWO children would hold. But our girls were both superstars. Coralie woke in the morning with enough time for me to make Josephine's breakfast before she needed feeding, then slept for more than two hours giving Phiney and I time to craft and play. We walked to the local shop before naptime, and I managed to get both girls napping in their beds at the same time from 1pm allowing me to have a shower. We even got out to the meadow for an hour of playing before deciding to head home as a rainstorm approached. It was a huge success. And while today was largely spent watching movies (Toy Story 3 and most of Cars) due to a very sleepy two year old and torrential rain, it was still (mostly) stress-free. I am wholeheartedly giving myself a pat on the back, and awarding our amazing daughters gold stars for helping their Mama so. 

Now it's Friday evening, and with a Bank Holiday in the UK on Monday, we have Ben at home for another three days, just to ease us all into life's routines and rhythms returning to normal. 

I am so much calmer second time round, so much more relaxed, much of which I am sure has to do with the fact that breastfeeding is going so well right now (more of which in another post). And seeing Josephine step so beautifully into her role as big sister is a privilege. She loves Coralie with all her heart and asks to hold and cuddle her all day. These first weeks as four have been amazing, so quiet and so filled with love. 

A few shots I snapped on Wednesday - soaking up those last rays of sun before the rain, the last hours of our babymoon bubble before Ben returned to work. That huge yellow bruise on Phiney's head in the last picture? She fell a few days before while playing in our bedroom and caught her head on the corner of a plug socket. I honestly thought she had ripped her head open, but instead, in the space of 2.5 seconds, a bump the size of a golf ball emerged. She was the bravest girl, and was mostly bemused at having a bag of cold peas held to her head. 

I also just wanted to thank so many of you for sending such sweet emails to us, congratulating our little family on the arrival of Coralie. And for those who have asked, Coralie's name is pronounced Coral-ee :) 

CORALIE JOE MALLIA

On Wednesday 7th May, at 10.55pm, our beautiful girl swam into the world at home and we've spent the last week snuggled up, getting to know each other. 

Named after my wonderful Papa, who I wish with all my heart was here to meet her, Coralie Joe Mallia is a tiny little bundle of happiness and love and we're so pleased to announce her safe arrival. She is perfectly beautiful. 

Your big sister is totally smitten with you Coralie, as are your Mama and Daddy. We all love and adore you and are so excited to see what adventures await you. Welcome to the world my darling.

TIME

Right now I feel that time is all consuming. 

The time we have left has a family of three, the time spent eagerly awaiting our new addition. The question of how much time birthing this little one will take, and how easily time will pass with two children. Savouring the time with Josephine and willing time to go faster so we get to meet Baby. Not knowing what time will bring. A boy? A girl?  An easier breastfeeding journey? A reluctant sleeper like Josephine? 

Over the last four months time has moved in the strangest of ways. Feeling both simultaneously fast and slow. This pregnancy has zipped by quicker than I ever imagined it would, and it's so strange and surreal that we're already at our due date. 

And all the time, the days and months that we've been without my Dad have stacked up. I've been told that time is a healer, but I feel there is so long to go until that is true. I miss him more every day and, right now, I'm finding it all so hard to be without him. Perhaps it's the impending arrival of a grandchild he'll never meet - the knowing that I won't be able to introduce this little one to their amazing Grandpa; that i'll never have a picture of them together. 

It's the strangest mix of emotions. The pure joy and excitement at the prospect of having another baby, of bringing something so amazing into the world, paired with the devastation of knowing the same world is without someone who bought so much love and laughter. 

Tonight, this weekend, I know I need to let the idea of time go; to give into the notion of 'what will be will be' and to just surrender. This baby, as with all babies, will come when it's ready; who knows what time will bring.

Last weekend we went to my Dad and his girlfriend, Dee's, house, where me, my brother and sister looked through more of my Dad's treasures. Dee had found his collection of vintage watches and we each chose one to keep and wear. There is something so comforting in wearing the watch he wore; of looking at it so many times a day and remembering him whenever I do. And, as time ticks on, I'm reminded of the beautiful times and adventures we spent together as well as the time we have been without him and the time yet to come where he will not be here with us in person but, always and forever, with us in spirit. 

REFLECTIONS

Later this week, on January 18th, we will be celebrating Josephine's first birthday. Celebrating the complete joy she has bought to our lives, celebrating the incredible little person she is now and is becoming, and celebrating our first year as three; our first year as parents.

No matter what people tell you, the advice you're given, nothing can prepare you for being a parent. The overwhelming love and happiness that fill your heart every second of every day; the changes such a tiny being can bring; the awesome highs and the exhausting lows.

This time last year we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of our baby. We didn't know if it was a boy or girl growing in my belly (we thought boy!!) and we were going to bed each day wondering if tonight would be the night our baby would start its journey to be with us (baby was already 5 days late by this point). We had chosen the names, washed all the clothes, set up the baby's corner in our bedroom. Our plans had been made.

But not everything goes exactly to plan when you have a baby.

When I was pregnant I remember seeing Claire's post on the ten commandments she'd set herself when she was pregnant. Reading through them I realised that Ben and I had almost exactly the same ideas. I wondered how, on reflection in the months after our baby was born, we'd have done in obeying our own commandments. So here goes...

1. We will birth our baby naturally and calmly, together as three at home. PASSish. Josephine's birth was beautiful. The most wonderful experience. It was calm and natural, but sadly not at home. These babies of ours have their own plans when it comes to making their way into the world and so Phiney was born in hospital. You can read our full birth story here.
2. I will breastfeed our baby, absolutely without doubt. FAIL. Wow, that seems so harsh on myself given everything we went through. But it's the truth. In all honestly I'm not sure I'll get complete closure on the issue until we have another baby and (keeping all fingers and toes crossed) I breastfeed with success. I could write a whole post regarding my feelings about breastfeeding, one year on. Maybe I will. In the meantime, read the whole story here. I just re-read it and my heart broke a little. And then I read all your amazing, supportive comments and it mended a bit. You guys are just awesome.
3. We will use cloth nappies as much as possible. PASSish. At home we use them a lot, but the truth is, for us, disposables are just so much easier when you're out and about. And in the depths of winter, when it takes 3 days for nappies to dry, it's hard. But our plan was to use reuseables as much as possible and I believe we do that. Most of the time.
4. Vintage stores and the charity shop will be the main source of clothing and toys for our little one. PASS. With flying colours, I might add. Apart from gifts and the odd bargain sale piece, the only things that aren't vintage, secondhand or handmade in Josephine's wardrobe are basics. Tights, vests, t-shirts and leggings. Go me.
5. All food will be made with our own fair hands. PASSish. I would say 98% of the food Phiney eats is handmade. It is with great pride I write this, especially given that until around 5 months ago, I could barely boil an egg (Ben's the cook - and a bloody good one - in this house). Now I am the maker of most of her meals.
6. Baby will fit in with our routine, not the other way round. FAIL. Ha! This may have worked until Phiney was around 5 months old, but when we implemented a more structured nap and bedtime routine, it went completely out the window.
7. There will be no TV watching, especially children's channels. Instead we will read and play games. PASS/FAIL. In those first few months, when Josephine would feed then sleep, feed then sleep, I watched a lot of TV. Seriously, a lot. Thank goodness for Netflix. But as she started to play games and be more aware, I was pretty good at keeping the TV off. Today, I'd say the TV is mostly off but sometimes, when we've had a bad night, early morning or a grumpy baby I need a bit of adult company in the day. And Jamie's 15/30 Minute Meals is pure research ;)
8. We will go for a walk at least once a day. PASS. We love our walks. To the park, along the canal, to the shops. Everyday, at least once. It is always a joy to walk and talk to our little bird.
9. We will not clear shelves or move fragile pieces from easily accessible places. PASS. Sure there are days, when I've said 'no' a thousand times, that it is tempting to move picture frames and ceramic pots and cds and game consoles onto higher ground, but ultimately Phiney is doing really well at understanding there are some things she's just not allowed to play with. I'm particularly pleased with passing this one.  
10. We will not use a dummy. PASS/FAIL. Although I feel saying 'pass' is a total cheat. We bought a whole host of dummies when Phiney was born and we discovered that she very loudly made her dislike of being put down known to us. Unfortunately she refused every. Single. One. Now I see it as a blessing (no difficult weaning needed) but at the time we would have loved it if she'd happily kept one in her mouth! 

On the whole I think we've done rather well. Sure, there are a lot pass/fails but heck, I'll take that. High fives to us.

ps. There will be a whole lot more on the subject of my learning to cook and our love of secondhand fashion in a new series I'm going to start next week.

Picture by Tori

SWIMMING: our little water baby

Tomorrow is a big day for Josephine. It's her first swimming lesson. Phiney has always been a water baby. Loved the bath from the moment she got in it, and is so confident splashing around in there now. We're hoping that this love will translate to the pool, which we're lucky enough to be sharing with our three friends and their babies in a rather lovely hotel on the outskirts of Bath. Just us and the teacher for an hour a week for the next seven weeks.

Tomorrow is also a big day for Mama and will be the first time I wear anything remotely resembling a swimming costume since I had Josephine. I bought this one specially (note the ruching around the tummy, cup support and always flattering black colour choice) as it screamed 'I only recently gave birth and am really not that keen in showing off my soft and stretch-marked tummy' in the shop, and so instantly grabbed my attention.

Actually I'm not really bothered about the stretchmarks. My tummy was pefectly smooth until I was in labour - really, Ben said he saw the marks pop out during one particularly full-on push! - and now they're a reminder of all the hard work I put in to get Josephine here. Plus Ben doesn't care at all and, since the removal of all bikinis (heck, I wasn't that bothered about them anyway) no-one but him will be seeing my tummy from now on.

We're all so excited about tomorrow, so I'll be sure to report back on how it goes. I'm hoping the teacher has an underwater camera (apparently most do) and we come away with a picture resembling Nirvana's Nevermind album cover...

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The Birth Story of Josephine Grace Mallia...

In the months leading up to us becoming pregnant, as my mind and body began to crave becoming a Mama, I followed many pregnancies and read plenty of the birth stories from the blogging community. My desire to experience the same only increased with every account of positive, natural labour I read. When our time came, and a baby grew in my belly, I can honestly say I looked forward to the final stage of my pregnancy; giving birth. I felt at harmony with my body, trusted it entirely to do what it had to and knew that ultimately I would let go, surrender and embrace bringing our child into the world.

Before Josephine was born, I wrote this post. Whilst a home birth had initially appealed to us, our intentions were to birth at home for as long as possible before heading to our nearest birthing centre 25 minutes away. However 4 weeks before our due date, at our ante-natal class, we changed our plans. I count us very lucky to live in an area that positively promotes labouring at home or in a birthing centre. From our first appointment at 8 weeks pregnant we were given details of talks and classes we could attend if we were interested in taking this route and given plenty of information to help us make a decision we felt was right for us. At our ante-natal group, when asked about their forthcoming labours, more than half of the couples spoke of their home birth plans. Such support gave us the confidence to home birth too, so we quickly arranged a midwife appointment to discuss the details and we ordered our pool.
As expected our due date (Monday Jan, 9) came and went with no signs of Baby deciding to make an entrance. We were both pretty calm about that as we'd anticipated it being at least a week late, so I spent the days relaxing, reading over my favourite birth stories for inspiration and my favourite extracts from this book while Ben was at work. I continued knitting away at the baby blanket I had started weeks before and added the finishing touches to the nursery.
My Braxton Hicks had been coming more regularly over the week and on Sunday morning I got out of bed hopeful that something might happen soon so we wouldn't have to consider a Stretch and Sweep at our 41 week midwife appointment the following day. I remembered reading this awesome birthing story and agreed that the best thing to do was focus on the here and now rather than worry about the prospect of procedures. I then went for a wee and was greeted with my bloody show. I gently woke Ben to tell him the good news. Reading that this signified the beginning or very early stages of labour we remained laid back, knowing it could still be days before we met our little one. Still, Ben was definitely hoping he wouldn't be heading to work the following day.
The rest of Sunday came and went without much development, just the occasional BH. On Monday lunchtime we headed to our midwife appointment, were told that as everything seemed to be kicking off, a Stretch and Sweep was unnecessary at this point (phew!) and were sent away with a "good luck" for all that was to come. As the afternoon progressed my BH got stronger with every hour that passed and we soon started to wonder if they had gently become contractions. Then at 9pm they stopped dead. Completely disappeared. We went off for a walk in the dark to try and get them re-started but to no avail. Ben thought an early night would be a good idea in case it all started up again, so by 10pm we were tucked up wondering what the night would bring.
At bang on midnight I was awoken by a contraction that was so strong I had to use the breathing techniques I'd read about so many times to work through it. Aware that, once again, they could suddenly stop I decided against waking Ben and getting his hopes up. Instead I breathed deeply in the dark, rubbing my belly, whispering to Baby that it would be awesome to meet it soon. I felt calm and relaxed and excited by every contraction. Never scared of the pain. Never fighting what my body was built to do.
After what seemed like 20 minutes, I checked the time before waking up Ben. To my amazement it was 1.30am. I'd been so focused on surrendering to each contraction that time had melted away. I woke Ben and explained what had been happening and before long he was witnessing it for himself. Still aware that Baby could be a long way off, Ben dozed while I continued to relax and let go. But by 3am I was out of bed and leaning over the gym ball, needing it's support to feel comfortable. Between each rush I would curl up on the floor at the foot of the bed to rest. Soon I knew this was really it and I needed Ben. He encouraged me through the contractions and by 4am we decided to call the midwife as they were coming thick and fast. She told Ben that until the length of the contractions were so exact you could set your watch by them, we had a while to go, but to keep her informed and to call if we had any questions.
The next few hours came and went with Ben timing every rush. They were sporadic to say the least. Lasting for anything between 30 seconds and 3 minutes, and arriving between 2 and 7 minutes apart. As night turned to day, I knew that I had to get moving so I spent hours walking around the living room, leaning over a dining chair to breath through each rush. At around 2pm, one of the lovely midwives dropped in to see how we were doing and promised to come back when her afternoon appointments were over. By 5pm, we had moved to the kitchen for a change of scenery and I spent hours bouncing away on the gym ball. Nicky returned, checked me over and revealed I was 4cm dilated. It was good to know things were heading in the right direction, but I have to admit, after around 18 hours of contractions, I was a little disheartened to hear it wasn't more.
By this point, the rushes were really strong and before she left Nicky recommended Ben fill up the pool to give me some relief. While I felt a little tired, the excitement of getting closer to meeting our baby kept me going and I was urging every contraction to increase in strength and open me up more. I bopped in the pool while Ben sat next to it; encouraging me, taking care of me.
At 11pm our midwife Laura rang to see how we were doing and to let us know she was on her way. Soon after she arrived she checked me over again and we were more than a little disappointed to find out I was only 5cms dilated. 9 hours and only 1cm. I knew I had to stay focused and positive though, so I carried on bouncing on the gym ball and soaking in the pool. Ben there, every step of the way. Making me laugh, stroking my hair and fetching me drinks. The night went on with contractions a-plenty but I kept breathing steadily and deeply, visualising our baby moving down and remembering that soon we would meet our son or daughter.
As the early hours of Wednesday morning came and went I started to feel tired. Really tired. The contractions were strong and sometimes there seemed only seconds between the end of one and the beginning of the next. Laura force fed me banana (I had refused it from Ben, but felt I couldn't get away with that with Laura!) and drank too quickly a few swigs of Lucozade. Which I then promptly threw up in the bath. Meanwhile Ben and Laura continued to be amazing. Encouraging me all the way and lightening the mood with laughs and general conversation that was a welcome distraction from the still ever-increasing contractions.
At around 5.30am Laura checked me once more. 'I must be nearly there, nearly dilated' I thought as I clambered onto the bed once more. But we were in for a shock. Another 5 hours and no progress. Nothing. Before we could really talk about what was happening I had to get up. Lying on my back seriously increased the strength of my contractions and for the first time I started to loose a bit of control. Over the next couple of hours having a wee and lying down were avoided at all costs because of the pain and Ben was now having to guide me through the first 10 seconds of each contraction, reminding me to breath long and deep through soft lips.
Until this point I had been the breathing queen. Never faltering, no matter how strong the rush. I had also not seen the contractions as painful until now. They hurt, sure, but I could control it and I knew that I had to surrender to my body as it pushed my baby down and opened up. But now I could only yelp during those first seconds of every rush, feeling for the first time that maybe I couldn't do this. The joy of being in the pool (the freedom to move so effortlessly onto all fours as I worked through each rush was bliss) had began to fade and I started to feel like I was loosing touch with my body. That I was somehow becoming detached from what was happening.
7am. I remember being slumped in the kitchen, over the gym ball. I was so tired. Exhaustion that I had never known, and I didn't know how I was going to continue. Ben sat next to me, as he had for all those hours, with his eyes closed. He had so immersed himself in being with me, he was just as drained. Sure, I had been the one going through the physical side of labour, but he had been through the mental side with me. Keeping me going when I started to falter. Remaining positive when I started to panic. I could see the 'get up and go' look that had been steady on his face, slowly fade away and I started to wonder how we were going to continue. I looked at Ben and told him how I could see now why people took the drugs and gave into the healing relief of an epidural. As we talked, revealing to each other how tired we really were, Laura listened from the hallway. The whole night she was there when we had questions and needed reassurance but slipped away and gave us time alone too, allowing us to focus on the techniques we had read about and discussed before this point and to share intimate moments, just us. For this we were so grateful. As she came back into the kitchen she told us that she thought it was time to check me again. She knew that we needed to get things moving and soon, before my body gave into a lack of sleep and energy.
At about 8.15am Laura's face told me everything. I was around 6cms. Nearly three hours and only 1 more cm. If I had the energy I could have cried. Laura knelt on the floor beside our bed and explained that it appeared my cervix had stopped dilating on one side. That she thought I needed Oxytoxin to get it open and that I'd have to go to the hospital to have it administered. It was our choice though. She would stick with our decision to birth at home if we wanted to keep going, but that she could see I was tired and she wanted us to know all the options. Once again she left Ben and I to chat about what we wanted to do. But we didn't know. Ben said that he thought I could keep going if I believed it, but that he could understand how the exhaustion was taking over. I didn't know what to do. I felt more detached from what was happening than ever and, honestly, just wanted it all to stop. To close my eyes and sleep for weeks. We went back and forth, unable to make a decision. Which is when Laura stepped in. She said that she was going to call the ambulance, and we didn't fight her actions. We needed her to use her experience and make the call for us. Over the last 9 hours she had got to know us, had read and re-read our birth plan and knew what we hoped from our labour. We knew she was making the decision she thought was best for all three of us. Still, as I looked at Ben and he looked at me, our faces were a picture of disappointment. Between them, Ben and Laura dressed me, gathered any last minute bits for the hospital bag and before we knew it the ambulance was outside. As we walked into the crisp early morning, the cold air hit me and I told Ben how disappointed I was. As I laid down on the ambulance bed my contractions, which had strangely stopped for the last 10 minutes, came back with avengence and the journey was a blur of sirens and pain. I was wheeled into the hospital and our private room. It was about 8.45am and as we met our new midwife Saskia (Laura's shift had ended at 8 but she wanted to see us into the hospital and make sure we were with a great midwife before she left us) I told her that I wanted to be home that day, no matter what. Despite having barely enough energy to walk I was still determined that our first night as a family would be spent in our own bed and I confidently told Saskia that I still wanted no pain relief at all.
Soon I was hooked up to an IV, through which they administered the Oxytoxin, had an uncomfortable strap round my belly that was monitoring Baby's heart rate and was trying to maneuver round a narrow and uncomfortable hospital bed. This is everything we wanted to avoid, I thought. As the Oxytoxin made it's way into my body my contractions seemed harder than ever to work through, but the change of scenery and hit of fresh air had restored some of my determination and I managed my breathing once again. Deep, long, slow breaths, through which I remember hearing the midwives comment on how controlled I was given that I had now been in labour for so long. Quickly it seemed like I was experiencing one long contraction. Any rest bite between rushes had disappeared and soon I was sick again. Afterwards Ben told me that I should have had 3 contractions in 10 minutes and I'd had 6 so they turned down the dosage of Oxytoxin. Those 10 minutes drained the last bit of energy I had remaining and it was during the next, excruciating contraction that Ben told me that I was going to have gas and air for the next one. Until now I had refused it, believing that it would rid me of my natural birth, but as I came out of the haze that contraction had surrounded me in I knew I had to trust in Ben and do what he thought was best.
I was told afterwards that gas and air had in no way taken away my natural birth. All I know is that I couldn't have survived the rest of the labour without that hour of gas and air. While the contractions remained as strong as ever, it took me to a level where I could mentally recover from the last hours of labour; it gave me back my attitude. I got my breathing back on track, I talked to Ben during each rush (apparently it was a lot of rubbish, but that's the joy of gas and air) and with every minute that passed, I knew I was becoming myself once more. I was back in tune with my body and I was going to be able to do this.
Soon, I started to feel the urge to push during the last seconds of each contraction. Saskia and Ben kept me breathing, rather than pushing, while Saskia checked to see if I was fully dilated. She told me that I had one last bit to go before I could fully push, so when the next contraction arrived not to fight the urge, but not to help it along either. That was enough, and I was fully dilated. Ben hung up the pipe feeding me gas and air (you're not allowed it when it comes to pushing time) and we got ready to push.
I was back and ready to go. Centered and determined; excited to finally meet our little one.
The pushing part was my favourite. Baby moved down quickly and steadily and soon, with every round of pushing, Ben was seeing more and more of its head. Soon he could see the top of a head full of hair and, reaching down, I felt Baby too. I put all my energy into pushing into my bottom as hard and for as long as I could. No noise escaped my lips. I wasn't go to waste an ounce of my newly returned umph on unnecessary screaming. Looking back, I think I rocked the pushing part. I was focused and determined and soon it was time to get that Baby's head out, but despite all my efforts it was just too big. Saskia explained that an episiotomy would probably be the best option but gave me one more attempt to get the head out on my own. I pushed with all my might, Ben cheering me on, but to no avail. So I had a local anaesthetic and a small cut was made. Ben said that was the worst bit of the whole thing. Apparently the noise was horrendous - I was distracted with other things so was barely aware of what was happening. With the next push Baby's head was out. Ben and the midwives all tried to get a peek of it's face and Ben reported back to me that the dark brown hair I'd hoped for was there a-plenty. Saskia and Mary, a more experienced midwife who had popped in and out during our time at the hospital and who asked if she could stay and see this baby born, guessed from it's squished up face that it was a girl, while Ben was still sure it was a boy. Ha! Those midwives know their stuff.
After another round of pushing, Mary told me to keep my eyes open next time I felt the urge to push so I could see our baby be born. I pushed harder than ever, knowing we would be meeting our baby in a matter of moments. And then there she was. Saskia pulled her straight onto my naked tummy and chest and I asked Ben if it was a boy or girl.
"It's a girl!! Oh my God, it's girl!!" We beamed surprised smiles at each other, laughing at how wrong we, and everyone else, had been with their predictions. The three of us kissed and squeezed each other, knowing that our lives had changed forever in those seconds. It was 1.08pm on Wednesday January 18, nearly 40 hours after my first contraction. Ben sweetly told me how amazing I had been and we both whispered to our baby girl that she'd done an amazing job too. As I was telling Ben how awesome he had been Saskia looked up and agreed, offering him a job as a midwife if he ever fancied a career change, so impressed had they been at his attitude, encouragement and all round brilliance as a birth partner. Something I never doubted would be true.
As we snuggled together Saskia delivered my placenta and stitched up my small cut and a little natural tear that had occurred and when we were ready she quickly took our little one, wiped her down and weighed her. Saskia had guessed at 7 1/2 lbs, so was surprised to see she was 8lbs 1 and 54cms long. She wrapped her in a soft clean towel and popped on a hat before handing her back and leaving us alone. And there we sat. A new family. We named her Josephine Grace. The only girl's name we had truly considered.
Later the breastfeeding midwife came to visit us (we weren't allowed to leave hospital until they had seen Baby latch on and feed a couple of times) and then Ben rang our parents. I heard their shrieks of delight on Baby's safe arrival, and the fact she was a girl!
A few hours later, I was helped into a warm bath to clean off, while Ben stripped off his t-shirt and held his tiny daughter inside his hoody. When I emerged I found my two favourite people snoozing together in the chair. Their bond was so strong already, it was clear to see, and my heart swelled with happiness. We left the hospital at 4.30pm, just over 3 hours after Josephine came into the world, and were tucked in bed together that night as we'd always hoped and planned.

So that was our story. It didn't go how we thought, and while we were initially disappointed to be heading to the hospital, it still turned out to be a beautiful experience. We were blessed with midwives who understood and respected our hopes for labour during the whole process, and who ensured we got the calm and natural labour we wanted, despite a change of location.
During those 37 hours there were times I wondered if I would be able to do it but deep inside I knew that my body was capable of doing what it was built to do. And Ben was there to remind me of that whenever I needed it. As I always knew, it took 3 people to deliver our baby safely into the world; Ben, Baby and I. Ben has never been more amazing than he was during those hours. He showed strength and confidence in me when I doubted my capablility, and his kindness and soft words during these moments urged me to keep going. Sharing that experience with him has made me love him more than I thought I could and I'll never forget those quiet moments when the squeeze of his hand around mine and the stroke of his fingers on my face reminded me of his love and pride when I needed it most.
And our little girl, Josephine. From the first examination all those days before, her heart rate stayed steady and strong despite the long hours, the Oxytoxin and my heightened stress levels on the journey to hospital. Just as she had been during my entire pregancy she was as laid back as ever and when she was born she barely let out a cry. Just laid on my chest staring at her Mama and Papa with wide, beautiful eyes. Taking it all in.

I have written and re-written our story time and again, hence why it's taken so long to post it here. I was so inspired and encouraged by positive birthing stories throughout my pregnancy that I hoped to give something back to the blogging community in submitting my own; an account of a positive labour yet one that didn't go according to plan. And because of this I wanted to get it just right. I hope that someone out there will read this and be given comfort in the knowlegde that even if things vere off the course you hope and plan for, labour is still the most beautiful and enlightening of experiences.

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On Wednesday 18th January, as the winter sun shone through the windows, Jospehine Grace Mallia was born. From the moment she started her journey to meet us, and I felt my first contraction, I knew she was a girl. And when this tiny creature was placed on my chest, with her head of the darkest brown hair, our hearts burst with happiness.

The last ten days have been the most surreal of my life. Our beautiful daughter is the sweetest girl and the days have blurred into eachother, as we've spent the hours staring at her in awe.

We're slowly heading back into the real world now so expect more posts and heaps of pictures of our divine little one. Plus I'd love to share our birth story...it's very long...and also our breastfeeding story; it's certainly been more complicated than I had ever anticipated and is still an ongoing saga that we're taking a day at a time.

Thank you for all your comments on the nursery, and the lovely good wishes you've sent too. We can't wait to share our first steps as parents here and show off our newest family member as she grows xx

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Today, this story topped the headlines on BBC News (and made me late for work as I listened intently) so I thought it was time to talk about our plans for the arrival of Baby Mallia.

The Birth. As maternity leave, Christmas and our due date draw ever closer, the birth of our little friend is more and more at the forefront of my mind. We have actively taken an interest in the process of bringing our child into the world over the last 8 months and it’s been an interesting ride so far.

Back in the summer I started devouring Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth and re-reading inspiring birth stories that I’d seen over the previous few years online. B and I knew that we wanted something as natural as possible when it came to labour, but with friends and family birthing in doctor-led hospitals or with drugs and procedures, we didn’t know much about what was involved and how much input we had in such decisions. Reading this book opened my eyes to how glorious an experience birth can be. The more I read, the more I was filled with surprising positivity about something the western world (and a surprising number of people we spoke to) can really cast a negative light on.

B’s hippy-at-heart ways have certainly had a great influence on me over the last 11 years and in our house we believe quite heavily in mind over matter and the power of positive thinking. We’re a pretty happy-go-lucky pair and we truly believe that this attitude has inspired and led to many of the wonderful things that have happened to us over the years. So as I read (and recalled to B) Ina May’s words, and the words of sensational mama’s from around the world and throughout the last 30 years or so, we felt an absolute connection and decided that a doctor-led hospital birth was not for us.

So where to go next? Whilst the home birth stories we read sounded so calm and relaxing we weren’t sure we were quite prepared for that. Probably because of some sub-conscious fear-factor related to the media portrayal of home births or the look of terror and horror stories that met us when we even mentioned it. My best friend had planned to use the Chippenham Birthing Centre near their house for the birth of their daughter (she was premature so they wouldn’t take her in the end) and we knew that it was a possibility for us too, despite it being about half an hour from where we live in Bath. When we spoke to our amazing, awesome and lovely midwife about arranging a visit, the joy in her eyes and voice instantly reassured us that we were making the right decision. She was more than chuffed that one of her couples were thinking outside the box to use what is apparently a small, warm and friendly cottage style hospital run by some of the best midwives she’d met in her 40 years of delivering babies. Our tour is next week and we can’t wait to see the place we hope will become a home from home during those last hours of labour and our first as parents.

So, while we have an ultimate destination sorted we’re drawing on other stories to help us as we birth at home for as long as possible, and as long as we feel comfortable. Plus on Sunday we’re heading to our local community hall and the Bath Homebirth Group (where we’ll hear about the role of birth partners, what to get ready and attitudes to home birth) to prepare us more for what we can expect when it all kicks off and we’re working through contractions, just B and I. Which, with the help of the hypno-birth CD we’ve been listening to and the mantra I’ve been repeating, should help us have the birth we hope and dream of. And with utter conviction, I can say that right now that I have no fear at all. I know that with B by my side and working with the baby in my belly, we can create a magical experience.

ps. I’m fully aware that sometimes things don’t go to plan and that these little people can have opposite ideas to you when it comes to making their way into the world. But for this post, I’m not going to say hopefully or maybe or all being well. I’m going to say this is what is going to happen. Positive thinking – it’s the way forward.