ACH.

Okay, so the kids don’t need me today. They seem to be perfectly happy upstairs with dressing up, K’nex and Brio.

I’ve spent the last two nights asleep with my legs on a rolled up double duvet trying to get them to return to normal size. Unfortunately the only way of making this comfy is to also sleep with three pillows, otherwise the baby sloshes up under my ribs. So i wake up feeling like a creaky zed-bed! However, my legs look better.

Even more unfortunately it seems to have encouraged the baby to turn and having been nicely head down with its feet to the top and its back down my front for weeks, its now clearly sat in my pelvis with its legs, head and arms up the top. And yes i know there is plenty of time – but why oh why oh why can’t things just be simple? I had a really nice dream about a nice birth last night and this morning i’m just depressed that its going to be another c-section. And i so don’t want that. Sometimes i feel like having had sections is just perceived as a lack of mental will power to do it all properly!

I’m having a sense of humour failure. Sorry. I know its pathetic and i know i should be able to laugh about it but by the time each of them was 2…

Fran had had 3 operations and was awaiting her 4th (and you really have to do that whole waiting outside an operating theatre thing to know how that feels.)

Maddy had had a total breakdown and was virtually unreachable and i feel like i am only just getting her back really. Its bloody hard work keeping her as chilled out as she appears to be and i don’t really get any rest from it. I know there are plenty of kids who are hard work in the same or similar ways but there you go. I really resent and feel sad about the fact that i sent her to nursery just to get a break from her but if it hadn’t been for that i’m not at all sure where we would be now. Its very hard at times not to feel that all the mental trauma she has experienced must have somehow been my fault.

Amelie had had raging eczema for over a year that kept me up for weeks at a time rubbing cream into itchy skin all night, had nearly died at birth and had had a brush with death over a “childhood illness.” Now she has asthma that seems to be getting worse and i’m really trying to be cool about that but if it suddenly gets worse i know i am going to get stressed. I can do blood but i really, really hate breathing stuff.

And i had had two bits of major abdominal surgery for what is supposed to be a normal process that apparently my body doesn’t like doing much.

I’m not sure it even WAS that paranoid to panic slightly for about 30 seconds over a bee sting – a major allergic reaction wouldn’t have been that out of character. Fran’s nose has bled copiously twice a day since she bashed it – at least I’m not investigating Leukemia yet.