Thursday, 22 May 2014: One Year and Fifty Two Days Old.
Today marked the second time in a week someone has commented on my flat chest.
Sure, I’d sort of realised that since going back to work my boobs had shrunk a bit, but I didn’t realise it was so noticeable’
Admittedly I’ve had to pack a whole bunch of bras away until such a time as I become pregnant again, but it turns out my decreasing milk supply is also resulting in ill-fitting frocks!
I’m not quite sure how I feel about it to be honest.
I’ve always been proud of my figure, attributing my boobs to being one of my best physical features, so now that they’re almost gone (like, actually gone) I’m definitely disappointed.
I also feel torn between sadness and pride; sad that my boobs are disappearing into oblivion before my eyes, but proud that I’ve been able to use them to sustain a human life, Ayla’s life, for nearly fourteen months.
I’m sad about the change in my figure, but I’m also proud for having lost my baby weight in a healthy, natural way.
And, I’m sad about the loss of my “youth”… The days of squeezing into too tight tops just to see how many second glances I’d get are LONG gone, but I’m proud to have swapped that for a gorgeous baby girl and her adoring father, and proud that I’m proud of that!
Friday, 16 May 2014; One Year and Forty Six Days Old.
Today is the first day since going back to work that I’ve been late to pick Ayla up.
I knew it was going to happen at some point and surprisingly I wasn’t as stressed out about as I thought I might be, but it definitely didn’t sit right.
As my 2.30 knock off became 3.00, then 3.30, the 4.00 I could feel my anxiety rising.
I just kept reminding myself that Ayla doesn’t get picked up til 5.15 on Tuesdays when I have uni, and I kept pushing to the back of my mind that at least on those days Ayla goes to day care with the extra milk she needs to see her through.
Thankfully though when I arrived to collect my baby girl she seemed unconcerned, playing in a corner with a big box of blocks.
I cuddled her and kissed her and apologised for my lateness to which Ayla responded with a big, loud kiss on my neck.
Wednesday, 26 February 2014: Three Hundred and Thirty One Days Old.
Ayla’s always loved being tickled and gets so exited her squeals reach a pitch high enough to almost shatter glass and her smile looks like its about to break her face in two.
And now Ayla’s learned to share the fun of being tickled with Hubby and I.
I couldn’t quite work out what Ayla was doing the first time she grabbed at my underarm and I thought maybe I’d let things grow a little bit “wild” under there.
But after reassuring myself that I wasn’t at all unkempt Ayla’s persistence really had me stumped.
Eventually, with no other solution coming to mind I decided to tickle Ayla under her arm so she could feel what she was doing to me; it wasn’t exactly ticklish but it was certainly making me flinch!
Then it clicked. Ayla was in fact one step ahead of me, deciding she felt like a tickle fight and using her initiative to kick things off.
But now I’ve created a Tickle Monster! Whenever an underarm is exposed at Ayla level (which includes the lying on the couch and sitting on the floor) you can rest assured it won’t be long before her tiny fingers start grabbing and poking and “tickling”.
I pretend to laugh and squeal which set Ayla off in a fit off giggles, so happy and pleased with herself that she can beat Mummy at her own game.
But while it’s all in fun for Ayla and I, when Ayla decides to give Daddy a tickle it usually ends in tears – his!
It seems that Daddy’s armpits, with all their masculinity, are not cut out for tiny pinching baby fingers…. but it doesn’t stop Ayla trying!
Friday, 21 February 2014: Three Hundred and Twenty Eight Days Old.
For the last few nights Ayla has refused to go to sleep unless her Daddy’s put her down.
It’s been a huge change for us and one that proves Baby Ayla is growing up all to fast, but as much as its made me feel a bit obsolete it’s also brought a new feeling of freedom.
While I still give Ayla her bedtime feed instead of backing that up with rocking and singing until she falls asleep the routine is now a family affair that Hubby and I share equally.
Plus, knowing that Ayla can go to to sleep at night in her Daddy’s arms means that we’re another step closer to being able to hire a baby sitter and have a baby-free night out!
It also makes me proud to see that Baby Ayla is gaining her independence and starting to make decisions about what makes her feel happy and content, not just what she likes and doesn’t like.
Growing up certainly happens fast, far faster than anyone can explain. I never thought I’d be using the word independent to describe a ten month old baby and I can hardly believe that in a blink of an eye she won’t need me at all.
Monday, 17 February 2014: Forty Six Weeks Old.
I watched the first part of a new TV series about unwed, underage mothers in the late 1960’s tonight, and within second of it finishing I went straight in to see my sleeping Baby Ayla.
Every night since Ayla’s been born I’ve crept into her room while she’s slept, kissed her on the forehead and told her I love her.
But tonight, as well as whispering the usual “sweet dreams, sleep tight” I also thanked my Baby Ayla for coming into my life.
Within seconds of her birth and within moments of meeting her, my life changed forever; in just a few, fresh breaths of air Ayla somehow managed to open my eyes to a new world, a new range of emotions, a new set of passions and to a whole new me.
Within just those first few minutes, I became somebody who would sacrifice my life for another, if only that life was hers.
Watching the TV show tonight made me feel so unbelievably lucky and grateful for the world we live in, and so thankful that I get to spend countless moments with my Ayla.
Being a mother is so much more than I ever expected. As someone with no natural maternal drive the overwhelming all encompassing love I have for my daughter takes my breath away, every day.
Every new day brings new adventures and learnings and it’s a journey I am forever, eternally grateful for.
Thursday, 12 December 2013; Two Hundred and Fifty Five Days Old.
I couldn’t sleep last night, I was tossing and turning and feeling anxious, but I had an overwhelming need to be close to Ayla.
So after a while I left an exhausted Hubby to sleep in peace while I snuck down the hall to Ayla’s room.
Ayla grounds me. She is my reminder of the bigger picture but at the same time she reminds me of the little things that matter.
As I sat in the glow of the nightlight and watched my baby sleep, I could actually feel my energy slowly shift from my head to my heart.
Ayla is one powerful little being, that’s for sure, and I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank her for coming into my world.
Not only has Ayla grounded me, she’s helped me heal and grow and become a better person in ways I never thought I could.
But I’m conscious that if Ayla can have such a massive impact on my moods and mind, then surely it works in the reverse too?
And if that’s the case, like I believe it is, then I have to try my best to be strong, and calm, and true whenever I’m with her because that’s what the very least she deserves.
Saturday, 23 November 2013: Two Hundred and Thirty Seven Days Old.
All I want to do is grab Ayla and give her a cuddle, a kiss, look into her eyes, tell her I love her, and give her a shiny gold star… anything and everything to make her understand how grateful I am for her.
I thought I knew what it was to be happy and feel blessed, but the light Ayla puts in my life is like no other.
I don’t know if it’s because Ayla’s such a good baby or if it’s just part and parcel of being a mum, but I am so proud of her and so thankful she’s my daughter.
Ayla is clever, and kind, and patient. She’s friendly, playful and happy. She’s wise and innocent and modest all at the same time. She’s vulnerable but strong, adaptable, generous, honest…. Ayla is everything I hope I can be one day and she’s not even eight months old yet!
Just like when I look at Hubby sometimes and I think my heart will burst, every time I’ve looked at Ayla these past twenty four hours in particular I almost believe my chest is about to explode and shoot out tonnes of sparkling, rainbow coloured happy-love-dust.
I really am blessed. I am lucky. I am grateful. I am thankful. I am not taking any of this for granted and I am appreciating and valuing every moment I have with my beautiful baby girl and my wonderful little family.
Tuesday, 22 October 3013: Two Hundred and Four Days Old.
Ayla really loves her mummy… Me.
It melts my heart when Ayla reaches for me as I walk past, her little hands trying to grab any part of me they can just so that I’ll pause a moment near her.
And sometimes Ayla will start to squirm and cry for no apparent reason until I pick her up.
It’s then that Ayla throws her arms around me and stills in silence; all my baby wanted was a cuddle from her mummy.
Ayla’s also been practising her kisses I think, and there’s nothing more adorable than that.
Ayla grabs my face with both hands, opens her mouth and dives in, nuzzling my cheek and slobbering everywhere in a way that says “I love you” like nothing else in this world.
“I love you too Ayla Rose” xx
Monday, 21 October 2013: Twenty-Nine Weeks Old.
Baby Ayla got covered in poo for the first time today.
It was bedtime, but because Ayla had had a late nap she was full of beans and I popped her on a towel in her corner of the couch with some toys while I cooked dinner.
Hubby was out so I was doing ten things at once and while the pasta was cooking I ducked over to check on Ayla who’d gone quiet.
Right enough, she’d let out a sneaky poo so I gave her a quick bath, replaced the towel and put her back in her corner.
I had to tend to the dinner again, but after five minutes or so I got a moment and nipped into the laundry to rinse and soak the soiled towel.
On my way back to the kitchen I looked over at Ayla who had a strange, runny, peanut-butter like goo on her hands and face…
You guessed it.
On a closer inspection I discovered my darling sweetheart angel had finished off her poo and decided the smelly substance from her bottom was worthy of further investigation.
It was everywhere! On her feet, on her legs, her torso, arms, hands, under her neck and even on her face!
How on earth does poo spread so quickly?! I think it must be one of those unexplained mysteries if the world…
Thursday, 17 October 2013: Two Hundred Days Old.
Ayla’s had a nudie-bum all day today, and she’s gonna stay that way until we get this darn nappy rash under control.
The rash has been there in minor since I first blogged about it weeks ago, but this morning it flared up and spread to Ayla’s gorgeous chubby thighs.
It’s so awful to see my flawless and precious Baby Ayla tired and in pain because it hurts to wee….
So after a quick phone consult with my mum this morning it was off to the doctors for Ayla and I, hoping to find a safe, quick, cheap and effective solution.
But alas, the doctor declared the rash was indeed “very bad” and prescribed a course of creams to knock it on the head and ease Ayla’s discomfort ASAP.
As much as I tell myself that nappy rash is normal, and common, and part and parcel of living in the tropics, I still feel guilty.
There seems to be countless – literally countless – remedies, solutions and preventative measures out there to keep Ayla’s bottom as smooth as a baby’s should be and I’ve gone and selected the few that didn’t work.
I’m so sorry baby!! Mummy’s gonna make it better soon xx