Miracles do happen

Saturday 26th May, 2012

Wriggles' food diary

age 20 and a little bit months (17 and a bit corrected)

07:00

200ml Paediasure Peptide milk (high calorie formula milk that has been partially broken down to aid absorption)

09:00-10:40

Graze on small crumbs of biscuit found on the carpet. Buffet is interrupted by Mummy hoovering said crumbs up. Lord knows where they came from/how long they have been there

11:15

What are these delicious items?! About five Organix Tomato Slices (wheel shaped puffed corn type items. Mercifully containing no salt, unlike the beloved Quavers Wriggles has lived on for the past two weeks)

12:45

[ferrets in my handbag and thrusts yoghurt pot at me] "Mother, this here I believe is a yogurt and this is a spoon. Feed me!!"

Just over three quarters of an Alpro soya yoghurt, toffee flavoured

13:15

[mime] "What is that, mother?"

"My sandwich. Yum yum yum."

[grab]

"Errrr you can have A BIT. I need some lunch!"

"Hmph."

Chews a corner of malted bread: first time she has consented to trying to eat bread!

13:28

One cheese and onion crisp (Scottish Grandma's lunch)

Half a ready salted crisp (Mummy's lunch)

Several more Organix snack thingies

13:32

Stop trying to sneak food past me. I can see you have opened the chocolate rice cakes. Give!

A nibble of rice cake. Does not pass the taste test.

Another chew of becoming-stale corner of Mummy's sandwich

13:48

The end of a cardboard kitchen roll tube

13:50

160ml Paediasure Peptide with some chilled water as it is Very Hot

15:40

125ml Paediasure Peptide mixed with 25ml chilled water

17:30-18:25

Polish off remainder of Organix Tomato Slices bag and nibble on fingers

18:35

Two thirds of Alpro vanilla soya yoghurt with a about a quarter of Plum Apple and Raspberry stage one puree pouch whilst waiting for the metro back home

18:50

Few more spoonfuls of soya dessert and fruit with intermittent grazing of bit of sponge finger located under the bookshelf. (Note to self: must tidy up more often)

19:15

Chew fridge magnet.

Swiftly have fridge magnet removed.

Return to increasingly soggy sponge finger

19:40

150ml Paediasure Peptide

20:10

Gag on bottle and projectile vomit across collection of toys, sofa and carpet.

Looks suspiciously like entire teatime contents from 17:00 onwards*

20:45

125ml Paediasure Peptide as nightcap (and to replace the vast majority of dinner and previous attempted nightcap)

Ignoring the gag-induced vomiting, this is the most Wriggles has eaten for bloody ages.

It is also probably the healthiest she has eaten for bloody ages.

(Alright, it might not read very healthily, but largely she lives on a) high calorie milk which usually makes up around 90%+ of her daily nutritional intake b) Quavers-the curse of Speech and Language's suggestions c) occasional crumbs of biscuit, and not always sugar-free baby-friendly guilt-free ones at that)
It is certainly the most adventurous. She tried at least two new things. In one day.
Does this mean that my own meals are no longer sacred?!




*people always say airily of vomit "oh it's never as much as it looks!". However, Wriggles is very good at disproving this theory. On previous admissions, nurses have done double takes at the enormous pools of yuck on the floor and frequently have been known to exclaim mildly unprofessionally "Christ almighty, was that just in one sitting?" and her notes generally read 'vomit: MASSIVE +++'. She appears to have a pretty sluggish digestive system too and can quite easily soak a large adult bath towel. She has also previously (accidentally I sincerely hope) aimed into receptacles such as a mug and bowl. Classy.

Commemorative Quilt

I've talked before about the importance of charities that support neonatal or indeed any hospital unit that can offer vital funds that will enhance the unit beyond the NHS budget and be able to prioritise family support, community care, extra staff training to ensure that knowledge is kept cutting edge and small details that seem insignificant, but to families and in-patients make the difference between a scary stay and bit of a fuzzy glow.

Babies should start their growing up at home with their parent(s) and families. However, for 80,000 babies this isn't the case and they will start their lives in a neonatal unit. Wriggles spent two months there, which although is heart breaking, considering how much longer some children spent, is barely skimming the surface. Too many people think that premature birth or sick children is something that happens to other people. Premature birth counts for 7.8% of the number of live births in the UK and up to 40% of those cases have an undetermined cause. In my city, 6,500 babies are born every year, and 600 from those and from other hospitals around the region and the North of England will pass through the neonatal unit, through intensive care, high dependency and special care. Tiny Lives our charity support the unit, including directly funding breastfeeding support posts raising expressing and breastfeeding to 95% and for two specialist physiotherapists who do vital positioning work which is especially necessary for babies in for extended periods of time. They also focus on family support and allow for items outside of the NHS budget to be purchased. 


To celebrate the marvellous work the unit does and the lives of the babies who have passed through since the unit opened in 1993, a quilt is being made by an events group supporting Tiny Lives. There are 93 squares being personalised by parents and a border of buttons are being sponsored by anyone who wants to support the project and from friends, families and businesses.

 So if you would like to get involved or donate, hop over and have a peek. Including Gift Aid, the total raised currently stands at £1009.18 which can be added to the total monies raised so far from the group which is £11,673.89. Hundreds of other people also raise thousands for Tiny Lives across the North East; having had a experience of special care makes an enormous impact on lives from the babies, parents, friends and family.

No parent ever plans to be on Special Care but when you have no choice, having a first class unit, dedicated team and a supporting charity to ease the financial burden, it makes a hard time much easier.

Text QUIL99 £1 (or any amount you like) to 70070 or visit the Just Giving page and we will sew a button on for you 

 

Birthday

I had one yesterday.

It just crept up on me slightly unannounced. In fact, had it not been for the few cards that plopped through my letter box, it is entirely likely I would have forgotten the whole affair until probably the weekend when I would have been in a huff for forgetting it. Anyway, I didn't. I was going to ignore the whole thing but in the end had really quite a lovely little day with no fuss.

I live fairly near the coast, so we went to the seaside. It was really quite nippy and windy so we didn't sit on the beach, but did go to the playground opposite the seafront and I showed Wriggles the big blue sea and she got to try out the swings. We also went in and out of several charity shops (I love charity shopping and bargain hunting) and for £1.98 bought four books and also a stuffed camel to post to my crackpot parents who collect them. As my treat, we went to a ceramic cafe and had a go at doing some Art together. Wriggles was not too keen. Under sufferance though, we did paint a plate full of our multi-coloured handprints which I will be able to pick up from the kiln next week and see what a mess we made of it! Two friends came round in the afternoon and eager to show off, Wriggles made my day by taking two supported sideways steps-her first attempt at cruising.

Birthdays are a bit flat though once you are older and especially if you are on your own. I have to say, Wriggles has very few faults but one major one is ignorance of birthdays and special events. I had to make my own tea and breakfast and everything! Birthdays are quite exciting when they are for other people; there is something quite lovely about focusing on someone and thinking something to make them smile, be it a gift, an outing, some kind words or a small token that they mean something to you. Children's birthdays are definitely the best, although so far this applies mostly to other people's offspring. 
Wriggles has only had one birthday and it was a very mixed day. Obviously I wanted to celebrate her and rejoice that a year on she was here and healthy with me and had pulled through all of the bad patches. But it was also an intense day of bad memories. Her birth was not a happy occasion and the immediate period after was very fraught and traumatic, for both of us in very different ways. It isn't that I didn't want to celebrate the day she came into the world, it's just that that particular day is still very raw and there have been many happier days since. Once you get older, birthdays are far less about the birth day and far more about the person as a whole, especially for other people celebrating with you. I certainly have never thought on the way to a friend's party that this is the anniversary of their birth in anything less than the abstract sense. Birth is something which can be very idealised which in actual fact is quite primitive in that it is a sweaty, slightly gory and very physical and also emotive event that often surprises people. I find it hard to associate myself once being born years ago on my birthday, especially now having gone through birth myself. 
 
I still feel quite separate from birth; I know I have given birth but when I hear people speak about labour or I watch One Born Every Minute there is no flicker of recognition at all and it is as if it never happened to me. It is as if it happened to another part of me that I have lost or become separated from. I'm still in the early days of parenthood but I think for me, it always will be tied in with birth. Is this just memory tidying things away or is it the subconscious burying traumatic events to dull the pain to enable you to carry on with life? Is it more common after 'birth trauma' or a difficult aftermath-I frequently wonder if I would really differently if I had had a more typical birth of get baby out-get baby placed on you for skin to skin-hold baby whenever you want. My baby was whipped away non breathing. I didn't see her for hours. I didn't know what sex she was for hours. I didn't know she was still alive for hours. I didn't hold her for days. And that all still really hurts. I don't think it won't, but I do expect it to fade over the years as her birthday becomes more about her: who she is now and what good things have happened and are yet to come. I hope I am correct!

First Birthday