Four months old and could you be any cuter?

Nope, I don’t think you could be.

Lengthy dithering over this photo because I couldn’t decide between the colour version and the black & white one. The wanna-be, try-hard photographer went with the b&w.

Miss J either doing her best Elvis impersonation or trying to tell me she’d had enough. (It was the later. Or maybe both. I don’t know…)

Three months

Lying in bed, looking at the silhouette of you sleeping on your daddy’s chest. The world is quiet and you’re so peaceful.

It’s so clear in my head that you don’t care about routines or schedules. You don’t care about any of the things that the “experts” say that we should be concerned about. According to so many of them we’re doing the wrong thing, creating a dependency by letting you sleep with us. We’re letting you manipulate us into doing what you want, catering to your every whim. You’ll never be able to go to sleep on your own without us, that we’ll live to regret it because you’re going to turn into a spoilt little princess.

But I don’t care.

You’re so little. Only three months old and still so new in the world. You need us. Right now you need us in a way that you never will again. We give you familiarity, comfort and safety. You give us smiles – huge gummy smiles that light up your entire face – which is more than a fair trade. At the moment the world must be a confusing, noisy and scary place for you so it’s our job to make you feel safe and comforted. Sticking to a schedule won’t do that, trying to force you to fit into our lives so we don’t have to make changes won’t help you. One of us cuddling you will. Letting you sleep on us will.

That’s not you manipulating us, that’s us giving you love.

You’re going to grow up. You won’t remember this time. You won’t remember sleeping on your daddy’s lap while we watch TV. You won’t remember afternoon naps with me, curled up in my arms. You won’t remember all the funny faces we pulled to make you smile. You won’t remember tummy time on your play mat. You won’t remember the chats we had, all the things I told you. You won’t remember lying on your daddy’s chest, both fast asleep and looking so peaceful. But we will.

It seems to me that it’s more important that you grow up feeling loved rather than micro-managed. You’re not a little robot to be controlled or a tyrant to be overcome. You’re our Juno, our little baby girl. You’re fine the way you are, doing what babies are meant to do which is feed, sleep, develop and grow. You don’t need a schedule for that.

Enough with the photos already!!

Enough with the photos already!!

Two months

Two months oldIt’s hard to believe it’s been two months. Two months since you crashed into my life with a suddenness that was overwhelming.

Every day is a new adventure. You’re never the same. It seems that each day you’re doing something new, exploring your ever-expanding world. You eyes seem brighter, more focused. You watch me now, look at shadows, stare intently at the ceiling and I can only wonder what you’re seeing.

Your hands are still constantly curled into a fists and I wonder when that will stop. However, you are starting to use your hands more, curling and uncurling your fingers. You’ve started kicking your feet when you’re excited. Or upset. You poke your tongue out all the time, like you’re trying to taste the world. Best of all, you’ve started smiling. If I’m lucky, you give me a huge smile in the morning when you wake up and realise I’m standing at your cot, ready to pick you up. And it’s nice. It’s nice to be smiled at when previously all you did was frown at me.

I watch you with your daddy and it’s such a beautiful thing to see. You smile at him, almost silently laughing. You’re so peaceful when you’re curled up in his lap asleep, your head on his chest. His hand reaches right across your tiny back and it seems like for you it’s the safest place in the world. Eventually – and probably earlier than we think – you’ll be too big to curl up in our laps and go to sleep. We won’t be able to make you happy by simply holding you close. We won’t be your safe place in the world.

Right now there’s so much I don’t understand about you. So many times I’ve struggled to make you happy because I don’t know what you need and you can’t tell me. I feel so out of my depth. This is something I never expected I’d do. I never thought I’d have a child. Other times I feel that you deserve someone better than me to be your mum. So often it feels like I’m doing the wrong things with you. I’m so unsure that what I’m doing is okay, that I’m not somehow already messing you up.

I guess all I can do is give you my time and love. If I can do that, then I think you’ll turn out okay.

Four weeks on…

41 weeks pregnant and at France Perry, waiting for my medical induction to be started.

Some times things don’t go to plan. Really don’t go to plan and you find yourself in a situation where you have to make what amounts to a life-changing decision very quickly. That’s how it went for me with Juno’s birth.

Two days before my due date, I had an appointment with my obstetrician who had just come back from a conference. Initially she had been okay with letting me go over by two weeks but in this appointment, she had changed her mind. I knew I was always considered a high risk pregnancy because of my age and I wasn’t at all surprised when she brought up medical induction – to occur at 41 weeks instead of seeing if I would go into labour spontaneously. Spontaneous labour and a natural birth was the ultimate goal but I was sick of being pregnant so I agreed to an induction on the following weekend (which would’ve put me at 41 weeks pregnant).

I spent the week waiting to see if anything would happen. I had two acupuncture sessions and was taking the most foul tasting herbal mix, full of stuff that is meant to bring on labour. But nope, nothing happened. In the end, I tipped the herbal mix down the sink because all it was doing was making me feel sick (which wasn’t helpful).

So, on Saturday 25 April at 3pm, I was at Frances Perry House to start my medical induction. I was put on a CTG monitor to see how the baby was doing. After about an hour of monitoring, the obstetrician (one of my OB’s colleagues) arrived to give me the prostaglandin gel which that was meant to get my labour started. More lying around and eventually we were allowed to leave at 6pm to go have some dinner with instructions to return by 9pm for even more monitoring.

So, I got to have one final dinner out. Such a small moment in the grand scheme of things but it’s something I’ll always remember because it was our last dinner out where it was just the two of us. My last meal as a woman without a child. (Also, it was delicious and I can’t wait to go back there!) Then it was back to the hospital and even more CTG monitoring with a super active baby. (I probably shouldn’t have had profiteroles for dessert.) After two hours of monitoring and me getting decidedly jack of it, I was finally allowed to go home with instructions to come back at 7.30am the next day.

7.30 the next morning and we were back at the hospital with more monitoring to see how the baby was doing. My OB arrived at about 8.30 and gave me a second lot of prostaglandin gel as it turned out for all the cramping and general discomfort I was in, nothing was happening. Then we waited. For six hours. To see if anything would happen.

Which it didn’t.

At about 3pm, I had a very apologetic midwife come in and ask if I minded giving up my room in the birth suite because they had a woman who was desperate for an epidural and getting pretty close to giving birth. Whereas I had nothing happening at all except some cramps and mild back pain. Another visit from my OB to check on what was happening which turned out to really be nothing.

So we had the serious discussion about options. I was almost maxed out on the gel but could have tiny bit more. I could be stay overnight to see if anything would happen. Then in the morning, we’d have another chat about what was happening. And possibly (probably) need a cesarean anyway. Or I could have a cesarean that day.

It’s a really tough and strange situation to be put in. You have to make a life-changing and to be honest life-threatening decision and it has to be made reasonably quickly.

First cuddles for me after my unplanned cesarean section.

At 4.15pm I told my OB my decision – to have the c-section – and at 5.14pm she was born. It was all so quick. Once the decision is made, there’s no messing around. I was taken to a share room where I could change into a hospital robe and I signed the consent forms. The anesthetist came to talk to me to explain what he was going to do. He put a cannula in my wrist and gave me some antacid. Then about 15 minutes later I was wheeled into an operating room where he put in my spinal block.

Nothing can prepare you for a spinal block. The first needle is a local anesthetic and it hurt so much. I couldn’t help it, I flinched on his first effort so he had to do it again. It was at this point, the fear really set in and I wanted to make it all stop, say I’d changed my mind and that I’d wait but it was too late. It’s a frightening, isolating experience to be in an operating room with strangers, all dressed in operating scrubs so you can’t see their faces. I did feel panicked, especially so when my legs went completely numb and I realised that I was trapped there, incapable of moving or doing anything. I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even roll over if I wanted to.

The surgery itself was over relatively quickly. I could feel things being moved around, bits of me being tugged on but there was no pain. Then all of a sudden, she was out with comments of “she’s a healthy size!”.

A baby abruptly appeared in my field of vision, looking very blue and not crying or making noise. Her arm flailed out and she hit me in the eye and wiped goop all down the side of my face. This is not an ideal introduction to your child because naturally enough, I flinched and pulled away (as much as I could). Richard went with her for her first measurements and immunisation shots. I was lying on the table, wondering what was going on and why she wasn’t making any noise. She cried when she got one of her shots so at least I knew she was breathing okay. They brought her back (cleaned and wrapped up) and placed her on my chest so I could finally see her and kinda hold her but that only lasted for about 10 minutes because I had to get her taken off me as I felt like I couldn’t breath. Turns out my spinal block was creeping up my chest which why I felt so strange.

It takes over half an hour to stitch a woman up again after a c-section and then you spend time in the recovery room so you can be monitored. On your own. With only medical staff around and no one you know. It’s not a fun time. I wasn’t aware that I would start to shiver uncontrollably and violently – which I did. My nurses were lovely and caring but all I wanted was someone that I knew to be there which wasn’t allowed. We had always planned that if I had a c-section, Richard would go with the baby and get some skin-to-skin time with her because I wouldn’t be able to do it myself. But I didn’t really think about what would happen to me.

It was hard being on my own. I hadn’t considered how traumatic a c-section would be. I hadn’t really thought about how I would feel at all. I guess I thought I’d just cruise through it all and everything would be fine. I didn’t expect the complex mess of emotions I would feel and how hard it would hit me.

Juno at three and a half weeks. Doing a face that always makes me chuckle.

Juno at three and a half weeks. Doing a face that always makes me chuckle.

I’d never though that a c-section was the “easy” way to have a child but I know there is a preconception in society that it is. Right now I’m telling you it’s really not. My uh… girly bits might be in better shape and I have a pelvic floor that still works like it did before but now I have a stomach that looks like a half deflated pool toy (thanks Olivia Wilde for that description!) and a pretty large scar as well. I think it kinda gets forgotten that a c-section is major abdominal surgery. I had three layers of stitches. I have a scar that’s about 12 centimetres long – although technically it’s still a wound as I don’t think it’s healed 100% yet. It hurts when I sneeze and it feel irritated pretty much all the time. Still, it gets a tiny bit better every day and to be honest I’m a bit too distracted to think about it that much.

Motherhood has definitely come as a bit of a shock. No one can prepare you for it. You can read every single book ever written on it but all the words in the world simply can’t convey what it’s like, how utterly life altering it is. I’ll be the first to admit that the suddenness of Juno’s arrival has affected how I’ve bonded with her. Being smacked in the eye by your baby isn’t exactly a great bonding experience.

There have been so many what have I done? moments. I’ve cried more in the last four weeks than I think I’ve cried in the last four years. At the moment it feels like the hard stuff is outnumbering the good. But the good moments are cute, adorable, funny. She may drive me mad sometimes – having a baby screaming into your face for two hours can be wee bit wearing – but I am glad she’s here. I’m holding on to the hope that it will get easier and better as she grows.

I guess the other thing that’s thrown me completely is that I did expect to be a different person once she arrived – who I thought I’d be, I have no idea – so it was a bit of a shock to realise I was exactly the same as I was before. I’m not sure yet how to incorporate the of idea that I’m a mum now into my identity. I often think I’m not doing a very good job because I feel so conflicted about the whole thing but it’s too late. It’s not like I can give her back or anything. She is my responsibility and I have to do what’s best for her.

It’s been an overwhelming, confronting and relentless experience thus far. I’m still struggling to find my feet but there are moments I look at her or she does something that makes it worth it.

Ta dah!!


Juno Marion O’Keefe Sievers.

Came into the world:
On 26/4/2015
At 5:14pm
Via cesarean section
Weighing 4.23kg
With a head circumference of 37cm
and 54cm in length.

Yup, we grow ’em big in my family.

Counting down…

So… 38 weeks. Feeling huuuuuuuuge!

38 weeks means it should be only two weeks to go. We shall see. However, it’s very rare that babies actually turn up on their due date so I have a feeling I’ll be going over (according to my mum I didn’t want to come out and was quite late).

But it’s okay – kinda – because my OB is on leave for ten days and won’t be back until two days before my due date. Being over isn’t necessarily a bad thing – except of the fact that I’m going to be really uncomfortable. Eh… that’s nothing new.

At least this is a temporary discomfort. It’s been seven months since the accident and my arm still hurts. Obviously nowhere near as much as it did but it kinda sucks to wake up every day and have it twinge and ache. And sometimes it just flat-out hurts. But apparently it’s all part of the process of my arm healing.

On the upside, I’ve made huge progress with my physical therapy. I have a very good physiotherapist who I’ve been seeing weekly for about four months now courtesy (mostly) of TAC. I can lift my arm above my head to nearly the same point as my right, undamaged arm. Sideways I can nearly get to the maximum reach point but it still hurts when it gets above my shoulder. Backwards reach is still not great and it hurts but really, how much do you need that particular motion? I can dress myself so there’s not much point getting worked up about. It’ll either come back or it won’t. I was told that I would never recover 100% mobility so I guess the backwards reach is it for me.

When I reach sideways, I can feel it pop and creak so there’s still a fair amount of weakness in my shoulder which will only ever be fixed by me doing exercises – of which I have plenty. It’s more important at the moment that I focus on being able to lift things up as very soon I’ll be lifting a little person who’s only going to get heavier. So I guess she’ll be helping with my rehab.

There is only one small upside to breaking my arm. It’s made me realise that labour won’t be anywhere as scary as it’s made out to be. After all, I went through four weeks of severe pain with nothing to show for it except a dodgy arm. At least with childbirth, it’s worthwhile. There will be this amazing little person who will make it worthwhile. It also won’t last anywhere near as long 😉

It’s suddenly a bit more real now

We had a growth scan on Friday and for once she didn’t spend the whole time turning away from the scanner. So we got to see her face. It’s getting a bit squashy in there so it’s hard to judge what she actually looks like. But she has perfect, pouty lips. We could see those clearly.

She’s currently measuring in the 80% growth percentile. The one thing that is worrying me a little is that she apparently has a big head, which could make labour… uh… interesting. But, of course, all the measurements in scans are mostly best guesses so I’m hoping her head measurement isn’t actually accurate.

Not long now – five more weeks – and we’ll get to see her for real.

Squishy little face. D’awwwww!


This is me at 32 and bit weeks pregnant.

I gotta say being pregnant is one of the strangest things I’ve ever been through. Probably the oddest thing is watching my stomach move on its own, sometimes quite energetically.

Less keen on the having to pee all the time, including multiple times at night. Preggie brain might not be real but the interrupted sleep and insomnia certainly is and that’s not good for optimal brain activity. Also not so keen on the indigestion either. It started about a week after the morning sickness stopped so I didn’t really get a break at all from feeling crappy.

Everything is getting that little bit harder. It’s harder to get out of bed, it’s hard to roll over in bed. It’s getting harder to get off the couch. I feel slow, heavy and awkward (even though I still weigh less than I did when I got really fat). My centre of gravity is wacky and I haven’t even bothered to try to get on my step-thru in two weeks now. I bump my bump into things all the time because I’m still not used to it.

To be honest, I’m kinda over it. I’m tired so much of the time. My feet hurt from the extra weight. I had terrible pain in my knees for a few weeks because my gait changed (but a round of acupuncture helped with that). I miss being able to ride my bike(s). I miss being able to move freely. I miss being able to get up a flight of stairs without being out of breath. I miss my fitness, I miss having a body of my own because right now I’m not an “I”, I’m a “we”. There’s two of us in here and she’s pretty much in charge.

I feel like I’ve lost a lot of autonomy. My whole world at the moment is about her, trying to make sure she’s healthy and growing. So, of course, I wonder who I am. Am I me any more? Who will I be once she’s out in the world? I know I won’t be the same as I was but I don’t know who I’ll become either. It’s like being in stasis. I’m waiting to see what happens next.

2014 in 40 questions

1. What did you do in 2014 that you’d never done before?
Got pregnant! Well, I could’ve been pregnant before but not known about it. It stuck this time.

Also moved into a house that I’m co-owner of.

2. Did you keep your new year resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Eh. Who needs them?

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My team lead had a gorgeous baby girl in September.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No thankfully.

5. What countries did you visit?
None. Sigh. And it’s going to be awhile before I get to go anywhere overseas.

6. What would you like to have in 2015 that you lacked in 2014?
Less stress? Hah! As if that’s going to happen once the baby is born.

7. What date from 2014 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
September 17 – the day I got hit by a car riding to work. I couldn’t tell you what day I discovered I was pregnant (late July I think or maybe very early August) but I can tell you roughly what time I had my accident – somewhere between 8 – 8.30am.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Walking up a flight of stairs at the hospital so I could go home after being there for four days. I was so weak, in so much pain but so freaken determined to go home that I did it. My knee had only started working properly the day before and I probably should’ve stayed in the hospital for longer but I couldn’t hack it any more.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Blaming myself for the accident because I felt strongly that I could’ve/should’ve done more to avoid it. Which is stupid because the car driver ran a red light.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
See question seven.

Oh… I think I got a cold early in the year. Can’t really remember.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My girly, pinky-red Allegro step-thru. Having it means I can still ride a bike because it forces me to slow down and ride at a level I can actually sustain. Also means I’m way more up-right. One of my xmas presents was a cherry-wood basket for the rear rack so I don’t have to worry about carrying a backpack.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
The two guys who sat on the road at my side while I was lying there after my accident. One faced towards me so I could see his face and quietly talked to me while the other sat behind me and let me hold his hand and squeeze the bejesus out of it when I needed it – especially when the ambos had to splint my arm to get me off the road.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
It’s a tie between Tony Abbot for all his appalling sexist behaviour (yes, I’m so much better off because he got the carbon tax repealed), Scott Morrison for disgusting behaviour towards asylum seekers and refugees and Chris Pyne who I just want to punch in the face every time he opens his mouth. Oh… and there’s his higher education reforms which I’m hoping never get through.

And then there’s always smokin’ Joe Hockey too and his endless gaffes and idiotic statements that would be funny if it wasn’t our federal treasurer saying them.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Erm… not so sure this year. I know I’ve bought a fair bit of cycling gear when I don’t really need it. But Rapha finally introduced their women’s city riding range and it was too nice to not buy something…

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Well, I pretty excited when I discovered I was pregnant. I had some trouble getting down the stairs whilst clutching the test in my hand because my legs didn’t want to work.

16. What song will always remind you of 2014?
Hhmm… none?

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? probably about the same.
ii. thinner or fatter? Well, I’m definitely bigger around the middle at the moment but that would be because I’m growing a whole new human being!
iii. richer or poorer? about the same.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Loads more riding! Now that I can’t, I really miss it. I hate the fact that my bikes are sitting there waiting for me and I can’t just jump on them and go for a ride. It’s been a slow recovery from the broken arm which means it’s been a long time between rides.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Broken my arm? Does that count? It was something that was done to me so maybe not.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
At home. We had two friends come over for lunch. Lunch was so yummy.

21. What was your favorite month of 2014?
To be honest, this year has kinda all blurred together. It’s a been a year of ups and downs.

22. Did you fall in love in 2014?
Can’t do that if you already are 😉

23. How many one-night stands?

24. What was your favourite TV programme?
Vikings. We used to watch it and Game of Thrones to see which would be more violent and/or bloody. I think it ended up being a tie.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope. Hate is a pretty wasteful so why put any energy towards it?

26. What was the best book you read?
The Art of Asking; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help by Amanda Palmer. I just finished reading it and it was really good. I found it to be really thoughtful and she put forth some really interesting ideas whilst challenging the idea that asking for help means that you’re weak and incapable of taking care of yourself – which patently isn’t true.

It was also far more personal than I thought it would be and I felt like I learnt a lot about her that I didn’t know.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
There wasn’t one.

28. What did you want and get?
Pregnant! LOL

30. What was your favourite film of this year?
Guardians of the Galaxy. It was really good fun and dancing baby Groot was the most adorable thing I’ve seen all year.

However, we’re off to see Birdman on NYE and I hear it’s very good.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Is it terrible that i can’t remember what I did on my birthday? It was on a Monday so I know I wasn’t at work. Richard took me to Ezard for dinner on the Saturday night before which was lovely. I turned 42.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
We were told in April that we’d be moving into our house in May. Then it was “another month” every time we asked for six months. I was getting pretty anxious when it got to November and we still hadn’t heard anything – I really didn’t want to contemplate having to move after I’d had the baby.

Then Richard got a phone call saying everything was finally sorted out and that we’d be able to settle on the house and move in. It was incredibly frustrating though.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2014?
I spent $400 on a pair of grown-up heels. (Now I’m worried that they won’t fit me – apparently your feet can increase a size whilst pregnant and not return to their original size once you’ve given birth!)

34. What kept you sane?
Having a stable home life. Having a place were you feel secure and happy makes all the difference in the world.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
The changes to higher education got me quite angry and I was very relieved when they got voted down. But apparently they’re going to persist with them which is depressing.

37. Who did you miss?
I’ve really missed my co-worker Julia who moved to a new job in July. Sigh.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
Is it terrible that I can’t think of anyone who really stands out?

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2014
That you can never say never. Only a few years ago I was swearing black and blue that I’d never get married and that I’d definitely never have kids. Uh huh… right.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
I can never think of anything for this one.

Because it’s that time of year again…

I know, I know. I put the same song up every year but it’s most definitely my kind of xmas song. And hey, I’m starting my own tradition!!

Much love to those I hold dear, both near and far. Be good to each other 🙂