Tuesday, 24 January 2017

I'm Pooped

If I've had an unintentional break from blogging, I always find it easier to pick it up again when it's Crohn's related. I don't know if that's because my Crohn's escapades always leave me wondering and subsequently that means I've got a lot on my brain that I need to let out. But either way. Here we are.

So as you are aware, I have Crohn's Disease and last year I also fell pregnant. As I mentioned many a time in my pregnancy posts, I considered myself super lucky to be able to enjoy every aspect of pregnancy like a 'normal' person with my Crohn's essentially putting itself in remission whilst I grew a human.

Well, said human is now out of me and 10 weeks old on Friday. And lo and behold we're back aboard the gastro train and it's like my Crohn's never left. (Wah).
Casually still waiting to be seen. Everyone else had left. Even the cafe had closed.
I had my catch up with my gastro consultant last week for what can essentially be described as a prelim to what looks to be an MOT for my postpartum body; all the bloods due to be taken and a small bowel and pelvic MRI in the diary. I think I spent the first month or so of motherhood pretending that I was perhaps more well than I actually was. No one should be shitting blood at the frequency I am and I think I tried to just get on with it for longer than I should have. And now I'm where I am now, which is scared to eat for fear of the impending bloodbath out my back nethers.

This in itself is a catch 22 as I'm still breastfeeding (technically combination feeding but the boobies are still required multiple times a day) and as any breastfeeding mother will know, it makes you oh so hungry. Any new parents will also know that looking after a new baby makes you rather tired (!) So this, coupled with the blood poos is all adding up to one mama who's so pale she's see-through and in need of a ruddy good lie down for about 8 days.

Don't get me wrong, I was never expecting my Crohn's to calm down when preg and I also wasn't expecting it to stay away once my bab was born. But if I was to say that I'm not sad about these latest developments, I'd be lying.

However I have to look at the bigger picture now I have a son and my stubbornness and my pride has to take a backseat when it comes to my health and looking after my baby boy. Would I rather stay breastfeeding but getting more poorly because I don't want to take certain medicines? Or do I take the medicines that would mean I'd have to stop breastfeeding, but can ultimately feel better? Obviously it's the latter. I just hope that the MRI isn't complete doom and that there's something we can do in the short-term so I can get back to being mama. Even if it's a mama who shits a lot.

And my poor bab having to get dragged on his Sleepyhead into the bathroom 10+ times a day. Hopefully he's far too young to be scarred by the experience. But everybody poos. his mama just does it more than your average.

X

PS: My hospital is in Westminster. The day of my appointment was also the day that they had to close and evacuate Westminster Bridge due to a WWII bomb discovery in the River Thames. Let's hope that's not an omen of any kind, hey.
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Thursday, 5 January 2017

Cheers & Change

Earlier on this week I posted a well overdue message of thanks to our friends and family, as we've only got around to going through everything now the Christmas break is all done. (So again) wow; the other half and I are completely overwhelmed with everyone's kind words and generosity with their gifts. I just wanted to reiterate how thankful we are...tip top welcoming of our son into the world, guys.

When reading through the congratulations and looking at photos from the first couple of weeks you realise how much your little human changes - and how quickly it happens. Other parents tell you to make the most of when they're a newborn because it doesn't last very long. They're not wrong! Me and the little fella had his six week check up today with the Health Visitor and as he was lying there being weighed, he looked like a proper little boy. Already. Not the small human lump he has been since his arrival back in November. There he was, his big open eyes looking around. The cooing and gurgling (and grunting?!) Lifting his head up and checking out the scenery. His face has changed so much.

But because he is only six weeks - that's not even 50 days old yet - I still get cuddles with my tiny spud; his little legs all froggy and tucked up like he's in my womb. There is honestly no feeling like it. I HAVE A SON. WE MADE A TINY HUMAN AND NOW HE'S HERE IN REAL LIFE. Barmy isn't it?!

As you can sense I'm still having moments of what the ruddy hell?! We. Are. Parents. It really is quite the baptism of fire with almost every day bringing a new experience as a first-time mummy and daddy. FYI, it's true what they say; you can read all the advice books in the world beforehand, but nothing actually prepares you for when your small human comes home.

But he is here. And now we officially have our own line on the family tree.
(It's true. He's legally registered as a human being and everything)
X
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