Bad news day

Caroline called last night to tell me that she had been bleeding, and her first scan showed the foetus didn't have a heartbeat. She's still in her first trimester, about 9 weeks, and it was only recently I mentioned she was pregnant at all. Now she has to wait to pass the pregnancy. She sounded very calm and resigned to the bad news, she has after all coped with much much worse, but I know how gutting it is. I tried to give her my love and some support but it just felt inadequate. I felt desperately sad.

My first week back at work is not as smooth as I had hoped. I had arranged for the garage to pick the car up this morning and for me work from home until they arrived. My boss said it was OK but I knew he wasn't 100% pleased with the faltering start. Boyfie said it wasn't the end of the world if he didn't have a car for his on call (though I don't see how - if he gets called in at 3am it's going to be a mighty struggle) and that I should rearrange the car pick up for tomorrow and go into work today.

So I did that, but the bub woke up this morning with oodles of pus seeping out of her eye - the nursery warned me yesterday that conjunctivitis was going round. So I had to let work know I couldn't come in today at all. That was really, really hard. Despite the fact that things are out of my control I still felt somehow responsible, and as if it could count against me.

So not a great day. And I can't even go and see Caroline to because bub has a nasty contagious virus and I don't have a car.

Veggie rejection

I've been getting a bit paranoid recently about veggie rejection. At home and nursery Jazzie is showing a definite preference for sweet porridge, and has refused a few meals of lovingly-prepared veggie sludge, so I keep suspecting full blown refusal is going to happen soon - probably because stubborn rejection (bottles, cup etc. etc.) is a firm favourite of hers. Every time she turns down a spoonful (accompanied by much raspberry-blowing in protest) I feel a slight 'ohno' twinge, though so far it seems that she simply hasn't been hungry for more at the time.

My trusty parenting book says that eating finger foods is another one of those things that when it happens, comes along very quickly, so there's not much need to worry as it will expand the repertoire of taste and texture that Jazzie will like, so in the spirit of being prepared, I've been thinking about what my plans B, C and D could be.

I'm praying for a lot more time though as so far Jazzie still can't get past the idea that a rice cracker is a toy.

Jazzie's friends Ben, Caroline's little boy, and Noah from baby yoga are both eating more solid food so I am getting plenty of tips. Noah, apparently, likes scrambled egg, prefers pizza crust to bread but still can't quite get his head around chunks of banana. Ben loves banana and apple-flavoured rice cakes but not plain ones.

Saw Caroline today, who is still blooming with bun number 2 slowly cooking. We went to one of those kids play activity centres in Wood Green. To be honest, Jazzie is still a bit young to take full advantage but she liked seeing her boyfriend, and going somewhere different and watching all the other kids play. I, on the other hand, had a great time - probably better than the bub did. We got there really early, and no one else was there so I had a quick play in the big activity gym.

It was brilliant.

There were lots of different levels to climb up, and little lookouts, and nets to peep through, and one of those big mangle-type things where you squeeze your body between two squidgy rollers to get to the next section, and right at the end was one of those wavy slides from the top level to the ground, and my bum didn't get stuck (thank god) and I went down super fast and even took off over the bumps and got a bit scared that I wouldn't slow down in time when I got to the bottom but it was Ok and I jumped up with my arms in the air going this is brilliiiaaannnnt, again again AGAIN. On the slide I even managed to scrape a whole load of skin off my elbow which will turn into a lovely scab I can pick. The ladies who ran the place were in hysterics. Then Ali had a sneaky go too, but we had to stop after that bc lots of other grown ups arrived with their kiddywinks.

About Caroline M and Ben

Caroline is one of my babymomma friends. I met her when her son Benjamin was in the neo-natal unit at the Whittington. She was the first mum to speak to me - we were both tanking our boobs in the pump room. I remember feeling in awe and slightly jealous of the amount of milk she produced (which now I think about it shows that my anxiety about not producing enough milk to feed Jazzie started very early.)

I liked her immediately - it's impossible not to, she's warm, open, friendly and looks like an angel. Green is also her favourite colour. In short, one of Life's Good People. We swapped stories - this was her second pregnancy too, and although it has a fab outcome, her journey to having him was both traumatic and very sad. Her first pregnancy ended in a far more difficult way than our miscarriage, but I still feel that we share something similar and we talk about it sometimes.

The main thing of note about Caroline is that she is an unbelievably good mother. A real natural. I mean the living incarnation of supermum. Benjamin is the happiest and most easy-going baby ever and takes to pretty much everything (e.g. sleeping through after about 3 months!!!!!) like a duck to water. In all the times we've been out together I've not once see him so much as whimper in protest to his surroundings. I'm convinced its because he just picks up on Caroline's chilled out vibe.

Benjamin was born on 20th April at 29 weeks (I think). That makes him 3 weeks younger than Jazzie, if you catch my drift. He is Jazzie's second boyfriend - here they are holding hands. Zayne - more about him later - simply got there first but shhhhh, don't tell Benjamin until he's at least 18 and shame on you Jazzie for being such a baby hussy.

hurty tummy want my mummy

Felt like poo for most of yesterday. Got completely drenched on way to nursery. When I got there another mummy who was dropping off her baby started pointing at Jazzie and going to the carer 'is that her? is that the new baby? is that the one you were telling me about?' I thought she was a bit bloody rude talking about my baby like that when I was there so was like 'what about her?' in a way that clearly meant 'if you've got something to say, say it to me.'

Apparently the other baby is jealous of Jazzie because she gets a lot of attention from the carer. When I was putting the buggy away her mummy 'joked' about locking me in the cupboard, i laughed but really thought stupid bloody cow.

Then another nice mummy gave me a lift home so i didn't get soaked again and my faith in humanity was restored.

I think that was my first exposure to parent politics.

Think I caught some nasty tummy buggy virus thingy cos after big fuss i just wanted to throw up. Spent all morning in bed, then struggled to Monkey Face to catch up with Caroline and Seema and their respective broods (posing here in highchairs for the first time). Had a good time, seeing the babies really made me miss Jazzie , ate some lunch, but still felt really tired and peeky. Went home, went back to bed, dp thankfully was able to pick Jazzie up and got home just 60 seconds after I violently vomited my whole lunch and remnants of breakfast into the toilet bowl.

Horrible memories of pregnancy came flooding back. I just wanted my mummy.

Jazzie slept ok - she woke up twice at and cried for 10-20 mins each time, at about 11pm and 4.30am. And then woke up in the morning at 7.30am. Not so bad really. Absolute heaven for me to get lie in, but dp had severe case of stress-on-the-brain and could not sleep at all - very unlike him - so each time he was just about to drift off, baby crying woke him up.

Today felt much better. Jazzie's been adorable all day. Went to baby yoga where she behaved impeccably. Think the class is too big now, and am getting bored of paying £3 for parking each time so think I will stop after this set of classes.

Dp came home quite knackered. Doorbell rang. Martin had came over for dinner. I completely forgot he was coming. Doh!