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If you want to see what we did last Saturday night, follow this link. |
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Hello to all my Homeschoolblogger friends. Just letting you know I have decided to move over to Blogspot. I will still post here occasionally, and, of course, I will still visit my friends. But mostly, I will post on the new site. Here is the link: |
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Sunday — Day Four This morning was quiet. I did a load of washing and waited for John and the children to come in after church. I started to feel a bit jittery, like I had low blood sugar. Lunch was a welcome sight when it arrived. I had just finished when my visitors came. I was looking forward to their visit, but now I found myself irritable for no reason; at the time, I thought it was caused by a lack of sleep. The visit had to be cut short and John promised to return later in the day. He phoned Mum and Dad to tell them not to come because I needed to sleep. The contractions I was having didn’t really clue me in to what was coming. I know my waters had broken and we were waiting for a baby to be born, but that didn’t mean I was in labour, even with all the other signs. I knew if I mentioned the contractions to the staff, they would whip out the CTG machine again and it wouldn’t behave the way it should, again. I opted to keep quiet and hope it would all go away. John came back at 5.30pm. He wondered why I was acting so strange, I thought after 11 labours together, he should know why I felt the way I did. Why can’t husbands read minds. It would make it all so much simpler. After being assured, earlier in the day by my favourite midwife, that I wouldn’t need another CTG if I was having contractions, I opted to let the staff know what was happening. The obstetrician came in and ordered a CTG. Why did I think I could get out of it? It reminds me of the machine that goes ‘ping’ in the Monty Python skit, useless, but used nevertheless. Of course, it didn’t shed any light on what was happening, so she did an internal. I was 2cm, exactly what I was when admitted four days earlier. She gave me a few options, one of which was to stay where I was in the Antenatal ward and if I had the baby there then so be it. I liked the sound of this one, so I went back to bed and tried to sleep. After about an hour, I couldn’t stay in bed any longer and tried leaning forward over the bed for comfort. That didn’t work, so I tried the shower. John came in to check on me, he had been asleep until he heard the shower going. I don’t know how long I was in there but I got to the point where I knew if I was going to move up to delivery suite it had to be soon. John got a wheelchair and I jumped in. Normally I would be able to walk up there myself, but this time the contractions were so strong I felt stuck and unable to move. We arrived to a sea of faces, two of which I knew quite well. Sue was the midwife who cared for me after Grace was born and Nicki was with us for Grace’s birth. It was lovely to see familiar faces. “I want an epidural.” John reminded what I thought about epidurals and that I would regret my decision, but at that point, I was ready to kill anyone who stood in the way of that blessed pain relief. I wasn’t sure how I would move from where I was when the anaesthetist came, the details didn’t matter to me. I was scared to move away from the shower but I knew I needed to try something. I paced madly around the room, oblivious to anyone. I felt a change while I walked; I knew I was almost fully dilated. I tried hanging from John’s shoulders and then a trip to the toilet. I just wanted to sit and ‘enjoy’ the break I was now having from the contractions. Usually, when I am fully dilated, the baby is born straight away. This time, everything was slow. Baby didn’t decide to come down for what felt like an age. I lost all thought of the fact I was even having a baby. I was caught up in the present, and it felt like an eternity. When baby did decide to make his move, I wished he hadn’t. I birthed every inch of him, slowly. He was only 8lb 7oz, but he felt like the 11lb baby I birthed all those years ago. I don’t normally scream, but scream I did, and unashamedly. He was born and I held him close to me, telling him to cry. I needed to hear him. After giving birth to a baby born in silence, any sound is a welcome sound. I told myself I was never doing ‘that’ again and I carried him over to the bed. The neonatal doctor checked him over, suggested he be taken to the nursery. I declined, the doctor left. I lay back while John and I enjoyed meeting our baby. I didn’t have an epidural, I had a baby instead, and he is lovely. Michael is now 7 weeks. The first four weeks are a blur due to the expressing to keep his weight up. He lost almost a pound in three days and it took weeks to get it back on him. In the last few weeks everything has settled down nicely, and we are enjoying every moment we have with such a precious little bundle.
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More Ice!
This baby business is serious business.
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"My honest apologies to any moms out there who I have carelessly given advice to and who have been hurt by my immaturity. They are your children, entrusted to you by an all knowing God to whom you (not I) am accountable. Forgive me!" |
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You Raise Me Up — Secret Garden |
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What I'd Like For You To Know: A Mom Of Many
I like this lady’s post. Have a read if you would like to know more about large families.
Preschoolers and Survival
I remember someone asking and being amazed that I dressed the way I did AND didn’t work outside of the home.
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Now, here are the rules for the give-away. In order to be in the running to win a free copy of this book, you need to leave a comment on this post, just telling me something you love about a terrific toddler (or toddler-to-be) close to your heart, before the 6th August… Visit the above link to leave your comment. |
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Part Three — Michael’s Birth Day Three: This day was a lot quieter because it was Saturday. Many of the regular staff aren’t on over the weekends; staff like dieticians, or other not-so-important people. I welcomed the break in activity. I did speak to few extra doctors though, which was reassuring. I liked the way they didn’t panic and were happy to wait until the baby was ready to come in his own time. I had another CTG, and yet again, the machine didn’t behave. Ordinarily, this would have meant another one in the afternoon, but this time I got out of it because the doctors were there and said the reading was fine. Often pre-term babies require nursery care and a drip to stabilise their sugar levels. The drip usually contains either formula or glucose water. I was hoping we didn’t have to go down that route, so part of my daily routine included expressing colostrum to give to baby instead. Twice a day I would collect a few drops of pure gold and store it in the freezer for future use. Fortunately, newborns don’t need massive quantities each feed, because I never did manage to get a great deal expressed in the time I had before baby was born. For some women, re-lactating is easy, for the unfortunate few, it isn’t so. John worked a few hours in the morning and then brought the children in to visit. The visit went as you would expect with a lot of children in a confined space; they came, they saw, they conquered, and subsequently were taken home. No, really, they were well behaved, considering. The ice machine was a big hit, as was the buzzer to call for the nurse. You’d think we’d have learnt from last time, but when that nurse popped her head in the door and asked if we needed anything, I just thought she was being nice. I mean, I didn’t think one of the kids had pressed the buzzer. I am so naive; you would think I’d know better. The privacy curtain has more uses than an adult can imagine.
I loved having the children come and visit. We decided that after the weekend we would have one of the older girls drive in each day with two of the younger children, so they could spend the morning with me. I was looking forward to it. Running a house from a hospital bed ain’t so easy, especially if the children aren’t even with me. Later on when everyone had left, I walked up to the laundry room (it was close by, so I wasn’t breaking the rules leaving the ward, really). A father was leaving the post-natal ward with his two little girls after a visit with their mother and the new baby. The two-year-old cried and cried for her mummy. It broke my heart to see the quivering lips and falling tears. It was enough to release the floodgates. I cried just as much as she did. I knew just how she felt. I wondered if the kids missed me as much as I missed them. I know Lily did. She sucks her thumb. She only started when she was two, after seeing a little friend do it. Well, she liked it and has continued since. The funny thing is, she likes to play with hair while sucking, it doesn’t have to be her own necessarily, it can be someone else’s, if they don’t mind having it pulled out at the roots. Since most people don’t like that kind of pain, she has been limited to pulling her own. I gather she spent a lot of time with her thumb in her mouth while I was gone, because when I came home, she was bald on one side of her head. The girls left me a mini DVD player with a couple of movies to watch. Though I still didn’t feel like watching anything, I thought it might help me get to sleep, so I put on Joseph King of Dreams after dinner. My favourite part of this retelling of Joseph’s story is the song David Campbell sings when Joseph is in prison. I won’t bore you with all the lyrics, just the chorus. You know better than I I’ve let go the need to know why I think I was still emotionally unstable at this point. I mean, who cries through a kid’s movie? Maybe it had something to do with the lack of control I felt at being in the hospital; not knowing what would happen, when baby would come, or how long I would be separated from my family. Whatever the reason, I was definitely on edge. The midwife was due to do my observations and I wanted to look semi-normal, so I went and washed my face in the bathroom. After using the facilities, I noticed some bright blood on the toilet paper. I already had a pinkish loss, but this was different. I thought it was important enough to mention to the nurse, so I hit the panic button. I mean, I literally hit the panic button. I didn’t realise I had until three, very out of breath midwives came running into my bathroom. The look on their faces made me aware the button I pressed wasn’t the same colour as the other nurse buttons in the room. This one was bright red with URGENT written above it. I don’t know how I missed that. They did look relieved that it wasn’t an emergency, and after I apologised profusely, they departed from me on friendly terms. The doctor came in to have a chat about my concerns and I had another CTG. I was very close to asking for a caesarean (most of my babies were born at home - I'm just mentioning that in case you think I ask for one everytime). After Grace’s birth, to me, blood means placental abruption. The doctor reassured me though that it was just my cervix continuing to change. I couldn’t go back to the movie after they left. I tried to sleep, but that couldn’t be done either. |
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Hope is a very good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. May take a while to download, but it’s worth the wait to see what Joni Eareckson Tada has to say. |
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Michael’s Update Our visit at the hospital on Monday went well. Michael’s bilirubin levels have just started to drop, which means his liver is working fine. Now, all I need to do is increase the amount of milk I am supplementing and he should get over this little hiccup quickly. My niece has offered to give me some of her expressed milk to help me achieve this. This is an answer to an unspoken prayer. She is an angel! I will get back to Michael’s birth story soon. Love Amanda |
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I know this is a bit late for a fourth of July post, but it is still worth a read. It touched my heart. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed (John 8:36). |
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I am sorry I didn’t post after the midwife’s visit on Wednesday. I wanted to wait and see how our visit went at the hospital today, so here is the latest. The visit on Wednesday was a little disheartening because Michael had lost weight again. This was most likely because of his cold; he was off his feeds slightly, obviously enough to make a difference to his weight. I think he just felt miserable with the blocked nose and the infected eye. I have had babies with sticky eyes before, but this one was completely different, swollen and an angry red colour. It looked nasty. Victoria (our midwife) knew the doctor would want us to come in straight away and have Michael assessed. We decided to wait until Friday and see how he went after more feeds to help him put the weight back on. If his feeds were down that would also explain the jaundice staying around. I have had jaundiced babies before but never for this long. I have tried all the usual remedies and it still persists. Initially, I was sure he would improve over those extra couple of days, but after a while fears played on my mind and I wondered if perhaps there was something wrong. A test for liver problems was mentioned as a possibility, so after an anxious day on Thursday, I was looking forward to our visit the next day. We were scheduled to see the neonatal doctor after weighing the baby and performing the heel blood test. I wasn’t looking forward to this test. The day Michael was born the hospital staff tried to get blood from his heel for a blood glucose level and he just wouldn’t bleed. He screamed so much I told them to stop the test. Fortunately, this time was different. He bled really well and filled the vial quite quickly with minimal distress. A real answer to prayer if you had seen the first attempt the day he was born. We waited around for the results for a couple of hours and then saw the neonatal doctor to discuss what we needed to do. On Wednesday, I was told to bring in a suitcase just in case we needed to stay for phototherapy. The bilirubin levels were high and in the range they would normally like to give the treatment. However, that would mean Michael being admitted and the doctor said she was in no great rush to do that. What a relief. She said he didn't look like a sick baby even though this is quite late to have jaundice. She thinks it is hanging around because he was premature and because breastfeeding causes higher levels of bilirubin, (she said that is no reason not to breastfeed though). The doctor was happy for me to continue expressing milk and using that to supplement him over the weekend, then on Monday we will go back in for another bilirubin level test. The only problem with the expressed milk is that she wants me to increase the amount. This means expressing 24 hours, not just during the day. It is just so hard to keep up with expressing and get the right amount. The other morning I expressed more than I ever have and then I dropped it. They say there is no use crying over spilt milk, well, I did. From there, I was behind all day. Please pray I will be able to express enough. If he doesn't improve over the weekend, we will have to supplement his feeds with formula as well as the amount I am able to express. This is a compromise we are willing to make; he will be getting mostly breast milk and only a small amount of the formula. Of course, if I can express enough myself, we will not need to give him any formula at all. Our main problem with the formula is the real risk of it causing allergies, especially as we already have allergies in our family. If the bilirubin levels have risen or stayed the same after the next test, they will want to check for problems with the liver. His blood results showed that his liver has only just begun to kick in, so we are hoping it will continue to do what it is supposed to do over the weekend and beyond with the extra fluids he receives. The baby is mostly over his cold and his eye infection has cleared up nicely. Because I tested positive for group B strep they want to watch for any type of eye infection or any infection at all, up to about 6 months of age. We have swapped from the syringes to bottles for feeding the expressed milk. He was just gulping in too much air with the syringe and I hope it will improve now after using the bottle. Baby will be happy not to have all that pain in his tummy. I did try a supply line for his feeds, but it is quite fiddly and takes a long time for him to get all the milk. A supply line is a thin, flexible tube taped to the breast. It goes into the baby’s mouth with the nipple. The other end of the tube goes into a bottle with the expressed milk, and baby sucks at the breast causing a let-down reflex, milk production and the added bonus of getting the expressed milk at the same time. Sounds great in theory, but as I said, very fiddly and time consuming. Overall, it has been a positive day and I now feel reassured and more confident in Michael continuing to progress. I will let you know how the hospital visit goes on Monday. Thanks for your prayers. Love Amanda
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Update on Michael Our midwife came today and Michael has put on weight since she was here on Friday. Enough weight to keep everyone happy. His nappies seem to be more normal now, and he has almost lost the concentrated wee. Last week he had one day where I only changed his nappy a couple of times because he was constantly dry. So, it is nice to know that the expressing and supplementing is helping. His jaundice is gradually going. His face looks almost normal now, though his tummy is still yellow. Apparently, it is usually the last part to change colour. The midwife will come again on Wednesday and from there we will try exclusive breastfeeding (no expressed supplements) until Friday, just to see how he does. I must admit, this is all new territory for me, and I have been a little worried. I am sure if Michael keeps progressing as he has over the weekend, I will feel more reassured. He is so sweet, and when awake, quite alert. A good sign, I am sure. I wrote the above just this afternoon, and since then Michael has come down with a cold. I had noticed him sneezing quite a bit, but I was hoping he wouldn’t get a cold this early in the piece. I have never had a baby this young become sick, he is even coughing, the poor little thing. Now, before a feed I need to clear his nose with cooled, boiled water. I have a vaporizer machine to keep the air moist and I am watching to make sure he doesn’t go off his feeds. Otherwise, it will be a trip back into hospital. Please pray he gets over this quickly. |
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Saturday, the 28th of June, we celebrated Jessica's eighteenth birthday. We started the day out with a very special breakfast, tea poured from our special Pooh Bear teapot. The little boys are much appreciative of Sundays and special occasions as they are privileged with having sugar in their cups of teaJ
Jess insisted on making the birthday cake herself – cherry-ripe mud cake – with strict instructions not to pick at the chocolate bits. Later in the morning mum took her out on a date to Bungendore, Jess left the house with strict instructions of, ‘don’t eat my stuff!’
The warning fell on deaf ears and various persons – mute it seems also – on walking by stuck their fingers in the bowl for a nibble. The much-needed two hundred grams of cooking chocolate, turned into a shrinking one hundred. On arriving home, the birthday girl was unimpressed, resulting in another trip to B’dore (the guilty then realising it was the ‘last of its kind’ in the house). However, but for this small mishap the cake turned out a great success and all satisfied went to bed.
This photo doesn't do the cake justice. All the other shots were blurry. No matter what it looked like, it sure tasted great. Love Rebekah
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An Update Just a short post to let you know I need to have a break from blogging the story of my hospital stay and Michael’s birth. Now my days are taken up with feeding the baby, expressing breast milk and then feeding him the extra. The reason for the managed breastfeeding is that he is not putting on any weight and gets dehydrated quite quickly, which is why I need to supplement his feeds. He has trouble increasing my milk supply because he is an early baby and still jaundiced. Jaundice makes baby sleepy, so he doesn’t want to wake for a feed and then he doesn’t have enough energy to suck vigorously. If I don’t keep up his fluid intake, he becomes more jaundiced, which causes him to become more sleepy. A vicious cycle. Right now, my routine consists of waking baby for a feed, sometimes I have to use cold face cloths (doesn’t always work), feed from one side, change nappy, feed from the other side, give the baby the expressed milk. I do this by placing my little finger in his mouth, while he is sucking my finger, I place a syringe full of breast milk into the side of his mouth and plunge when he sucks, stopping when he stops. Afterwards, someone takes Michael while I express more milk, store it in the fridge, wash the expressing equipment and sterilise it for ten minutes on the stove ready for the next use. By this stage, the baby is almost ready for another feed. |
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Part Two We decided that John should go home and try to keep some sort of normal night routine with the younger children. He also had to go to work the next day and I wanted him to get a good night’s sleep in his own bed. My sister came in to keep me company and we chatted until the end of visiting hours. It helped to talk to someone about anything and everything. John phoned to say he had the children in bed and he would come and stay the night with me. The nurse gave us a mattress for him to use on the floor, and he could go to work from the hospital and come back in after work. My parents were at home helping the older ones with the littlies. It is funny how it all worked out; they were staying with our family for the first week of their two-week stay so they wouldn’t be with us too close to my due date. The best laid plans… God had other ideas. Day two: My day consisted of the midwives performing the necessary checks every couple of hours. Blood pressure, temperature, monitoring baby. I needed a CTG each day, but if the reading was poor then another one was ordered for the afternoon. The reading was usually not what the medical staff wanted to see, so it usually went on for an hour and then a repeat one in the afternoon. Except when the doctors were kind enough to intervene and say we didn’t need one. I am not sure if it was the shape of my abdomen, but the heartbeat would disappear if I didn’t hold the attachment for the machine in a particular way. The other part that read the contractions never seemed to work either, and on top of that, I had another button to press each time I felt the baby move. While all of this was going on the phone would invariably ring and I wasn’t sure which button to attend to first. I found that after listening to the staff enough I took on board their concerns. Whether their concerns were real or imagined, I cannot say. I guess they don’t see normal pregnancy often, so each new woman is a complication waiting to happen. This sounds a bit negative I know. It took me a couple of days to get used to the routine, to get used to what was expected of me. It was hard to take in all of the information, process it and then make an informed decision. Add to that the problem of everyone with a different opinion, and I was ready to pack my bags and go home. I needed an ultrasound that afternoon. No one told me why, just “you are having an ultrasound at 2pm.” At this stage of pregnancy, you feel sure that you don’t need to drink all that water that accompanies an early pregnancy ultrasound. Not the place I was going. I had to drink a substantial amount of water and hold. That would have been okay if they hadn’t forgotten to send the wards man to come and get me. At 2.30pm, the ultrasound people phoned to find out why I was late. I suggested I just jog on down there, but they thought it best to go in a wheel chair. I wasn’t allowed to leave the ward at any time, except for this test. The wards man came and we had a lovely chat on the way down to the imagery rooms. His work sounded very interesting, and at times, very sad. Because I was late, they said I would have to wait for another time slot. Didn’t they know it wasn’t safe for a heavily pregnant woman to be in public with a full bladder? I thought of different escape routes to the toilet if the situation grew desperate. The only toilet I could see was in a room with no door and it was the size of a child’s toilet with no seat on it. Fortunately, my name was called and I was whisked in to the room. On the way down, the wards man drove slowly, even stopping over joins in the floor as if they were speed bumps. I loved his driving. But this sonographer was in a hurry. She drove like we were in the Indy 500. The doors we passed were a blur to me. At least she was good at what she did. I have never had such a quick ultrasound. I am grateful for that. It is hard lying on your back that late into a pregnancy. According to her calculations, the baby was 6lbs exactly with a head circumference of 31cm. I loved that woman. This baby was going to be small. Healthy and small. A new wards man came to take me back to the ward. When my midwife came in later in the day, she interpreted the whys of the ultrasound. It is standard procedure to see how mature the baby is and whether all organs and systems are functioning well. They also need to know the amniotic fluid level. Good is a range of 10 – 15, obviously, before your waters have broken. After the membranes rupture, anything above six is acceptable. They don’t say good, just acceptable. Mine was 6.1. I continued to lose fluid over the day, but now it was a pinkish tinge. I wondered if this meant the cervix was changing. John came in after work and stayed until he needed to go home and put the boys to bed. Andrea (my sister) came for a visit bearing lots of goodies to keep me occupied during my stay. When I had time, I read books, knitted and listened to lullaby CDs. The staff always commented on the beautiful music, and I found it a lovely way to stay focused on the importance of being there. The T.V rental lady came in to see if I wanted to hire the T.V. I preferred to spend the time reading, so I declined. When I said “No thanks,” she just stood there looking at me. I guess she was surprised; most people want to watch it. I felt like it would take away the special time of just being with my baby. One of the presents Andrea gave me was a gorgeous little book from Hallmark called, So Little, So Loved— the happiness that babies bring.
It was full of photos of newborn babies with accompanying verses.
The second her tiny hand grasps your finger, you’re wrapped around hers and you never see the world in quite the same way again.
Life is a miracle If you don’t believe it, hold a baby for just five minutes.
One day, I’ll hold you for the very first time… |
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Pre-term Rupture of Membranes Thank you to everyone for your well wishes, prayers, and congratulations while I was in hospital. God was so good to surround us with such a witness of faithful believers who upheld us in prayer during that time. Those prayers were answered with a safe outcome for our baby, and me. I am very thankful. I know that an answer to prayer doesn’t always come in a form we expect or want, and at times it is scary to pray “Lord, Your will be done, not mine.” Thankfully, the Lord spared us an unwanted outcome. I know people have been waiting for the full account of our hospital stay, so I will try to post it in stages, as I am able. Right now, baby is sleeping peacefully, so I have a moment to start the keyboard rolling. At thirty-five (plus three days) weeks, my waters broke. I awoke at 3.45am, just to turn over in bed, or so I thought, when I felt some sort of a leak. My first thought was the baby must have jumped on my bladder and I hadn’t been doing effective pelvic floor exercises, thus the leak. I managed to jump out of bed before I wet the mattress — a not-so-easy-feat so late in pregnancy. The floor didn’t get out of it so lightly. After a shower and an intermittent feeling of gushing, I decided maybe my bladder wasn’t so weak after all. My waters had ruptured. Rupture of membranes is a good sign— if you are full term. I phoned my midwife and we decided to meet in Delivery Suite at 5.00am. Jessica was sleeping in the bedroom next to ours while we had my Mum and Dad staying, so she jumped out of bed to pack a few last minute things in my suitcase. We tried to keep it quiet so as not to wake anyone. I didn’t want any of the little children overtired while we were gone. The girls would have enough on their plate managing the household without adding grumpy boys into the bargain. I was nervous and had to calm myself with a few deep breaths before we left. The adrenaline was pumping. I didn’t have any contractions at this stage but they came soon enough once we were in the car and moving. I felt totally dehydrated and had to drink, drink, drink. When the waters that surround your baby break, your body keeps replenishing them, which is why I felt so thirsty, and why I felt so wet. I must have changed my outfit three times before I could leave the house. I used a newborn disposable nappy, but it couldn’t keep up with the flow. While driving we realised the significance of the date. Four years ago, on this day, we travelled into the same hospital to give birth to our stillborn daughter, Grace. Last time it was an emergency with an unexpected and unwanted outcome. We prayed constantly that it would be a different outcome this time. It seemed likely we could have this baby on Grace’s birthday. God had a plan; we just didn’t know what it was. On arrival at the hospital, we were shown into a small room to have all the necessary observations performed. My blood pressure was up but that was due to all the adrenaline I was pumping, because I was worried. This showed up on the monitor with baby’s heartbeat excited as well. Contractions were about two and a half minutes apart. An obstetrician did an ultrasound to check on baby’s position. Head down— good. I started this pregnancy with the same We were moved into a delivery room with a lounge and I was hooked up to the monitor again. John and I tried to sleep, but sleep evaded me. Later on, a neonatal doctor came to speak with us about what we could expect from a thirty-five week old baby. Complications really depend on the baby’s size and lung maturity. Given that I have a history of big babies, it seemed unlikely that this little one would be overly small, which meant less problems after the birth. A pre-term baby is usually admitted to the special care nursery, placed on a drip with formula or glucose water and oxygen is used to help establish regular breathing patterns. The doctors decided not to induce labour if the contractions stopped; they wanted to wait until baby was ready to come, hopefully at thirty-seven weeks. The doctors were worried I wasn’t taking the antibiotics, so we compromised and decided on the oral ones. I was concerned that such large doses of intravenous drugs couldn’t be good for an early baby. There just haven’t been enough studies done to show the effect on pre-term babies, some studies even question their safety. At this stage the contractions had slowed right down and a bed became available in the antenatal/gynaecology ward, so we moved again. I was given a single room, for which I am thankful. The staff thought that a mother of so many children deserved a bit of peace and quiet. I don’t know how they imagine a hospital to be peaceful or quiet, but I did appreciate their kind intentions. And, I was pleased to have somewhere private for the few good cries I needed. It was in this room that we waited it out. At first I thought I would be there for a day or two, but it soon became clear I could be there ten days or more. To Be Continued… |
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HI all, The baby was born this morning.......IT IS A BOY !!!!! At the moment we have no particulars, but I will keep you posted. Thank you for all of your prayers. God is good. |
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HI there, this is Karli (Amanda's daughter) posting the information about Mum's recent hospital admission:
At three am Thursday morning Mum’s waters broke, so she and Dad went to the hospital. At first, she had regular contractions at three minutes apart, but these soon slowed down, and apart from the odd contraction here and there, nothing more has been happening. Mum’s body will keep producing amniotic fluid, so the baby will be safe, but, especially in hospital, there is increased risk for infection and bacteria, so Mum is on oral antibiotics. This was a compromise, as Mum did not want to have them IV, and the hospital was adamant that she took some form of the antibiotics. She has now been moved to the antenatal unit, waiting….. She is missing her children, so the kids are going to visit her today and probably tomorrow for an hour or so each time. Then the plan is that the children will take turns each day, two at a time, to go and spend a chunk of time with Mum. Lily, Daniel and Robert will especially like this, as they have been suffering without their mother, something that even learning to knit (for Rob and Dan), movies and chocolate will not appease.
We are looking forward to when she comes home with the baby, but we have no idea when that may be. We would appreciate your prayers. Thank you. |
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The End of an Era — or, The Turkey is Dead
Lennard is dead. Lennard was our turkey. He came with the farm when we moved in over 5 ½ years ago, so I am not sure how old he really was. Whatever his age, he kept it well. He always looked the same to me. Some thought he was a magnificent creature, others, just plain ugly and scary looking.
His many fine attributes made up for his misfortune in the looks department. He was always a gentleman. At feed time he would stand back and let the chickens eat first, always waiting until the last one was finished before he started on his own dinner. Though there were a couple of times when this didn’t happen, usually after someone had forgotten to feed them. Then poor old Lennard would shoo the chickens away from the food and peck any chicken brave enough to venture too close before he had finished.
When he ate, his snood (the thing hanging down over his beak) would roll up and store neatly on top of his nose until he had finished eating. His head was interesting too, because it looked as though his brains (small as they were) were on the outside of his head. To watch him run was very funny. He had ample opportunity to practise his running style after we bought a golden retriever dog. The dog only wanted to play retrieve with him, but Lennard didn’t understand. I have never seen a turkey tuck up his wings and run as fast as he did. It didn’t even look like a real run. He kind of wobbled like Mr Wobbly man (the roly poly guy from Noddy). If you can imagine Mr Wobbly man with bird like feet attached to him. He didn’t like the dog, but he was a real people person. If we sat on the ground reading and he was nearby, he would always come over and circle us to see what we were doing. If we didn’t spend enough time with him outdoors, he would come to our windows, look in, and see what we were doing. On meeting Lennard for the first time, the first question most people asked was “Is he your Christmas dinner?” Our answer was always the same. We could never eat Lennard, he was our pet. Besides, can you imagine plucking that many feathers? It is easier to go to the freezer section at the shops and choose one of his relatives. |
