Introducing Amos

I need to preface this blog post by saying that if you don’t want to read me blab on about my baby, or his birth then just skip on down to see some adorable photos of him if you like, he’s so delicious you wont regret it…

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Well I’m officially back online after some nice hibernating with my littlest bear cub on maternity leave. I was deciding which session from my long list waiting to be published I should share with the world first when It occurred to me that I MUST make this one all about him. my sweet boy. my delicious little smiley faced delight. Amos. and what a perfect opportunity it is to sit and reflect on the past 7+ months, officially write down his birth story and just take a moment to stop and….ah of course he has to wake up right in the middle of my train of thought and spoil where I was going with that. Its 10pm, he just slept for 2hrs which is pretty good these days. Vanan has gone in to try and settle him, he’s whinging about it (Amos, not Vanan) which is making it really hard to concentrate on writing…

and quiet

its working, it doesn’t always work.

its not working, he wants his mumma…to be continued lol

Although the thought of an uninterrupted evening sounds nice, and that it’d be lovely if I could snuggle into my husband at night instead of a sweaty headed cocoon whose long fluffy hairs always tickle up my nose, And sleep!! Yeah I miss that. But I’m not bothered, I’m not wishing this away, because the last 9months have flown by and I know these days are numbered. I know he won’t always want or need me like this, that he will sleep soundly in his own bed some day. I’ll miss his sweaty head in the crook of my arm, his figgety toes rubbing against my leg, and even those pesky straggly hairs getting up my nose as I curl up with him and kiss his little head. He belongs beside me. For now anyway. 

Anyway this is Amos. He smiles a lot, he isn’t always so smiley if he isn’t in my arms, unless of course he can’t see me then he quickly forgets that I exist and carries on smiling. He giggles, squeals, and bangs on stuff.

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We love him desperately.

This is us just before he was born. In fact this photo was taken only about 5hrs before we saw his face.

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I was exactly 39 weeks pregnant and for the past few weeks I had been having frequent blood tests, monitoring my rather unstable and constantly dropping platelet levels throughout my pregnancy and as we were coming to the business end the levels were getting lower and lower (FYI – “Platelets are cells in your blood that help your blood to clot when it needs to. The normal number of platelets is between 150 and 400 million per millilitre (ml) of blood. Most pregnant women have normal numbers of platelets, but about eight per cent of pregnant women have a slight drop in their platelet count.”)
They tend to get concerned if numbers fall much below 150, they got really concerned when mine went below 100, then they were 70, then they were way way lower. When I was 37 weeks the nurse thought my baby was breech and the dr used the C-word (caesarean) and I wanted to kick him in the face…turns out she was wrong and the only person getting kicked was me, from the inside… But it didn’t change his urgency to want to “get that baby out” I kept eating lots of papaya and spinach to no avail and was able to keep convincing him that we would be OK and just give it a few more days, a few more days…he kept talking about induction which I dismissed as nonsense, there’s no way I’m signing up for that!. They kept a close eye on both of us, and let me drag it on until my appointment on Wednesday the 18th of November revealed a platelet count of 21. I was there in his office with Lucy, and he said “ok I’m inducing you today”

me – “Hahaha, what? No! What?…I have a toddler here with no supplies and my husband is 2hrs away and, and, and…and no. What if my platelets jump back up a bit tomorrow? That’d be better wouldn’t it?”

dr – “Ok look, let me check you baby, check your cervix, and you can come back first thing in the morning for more blood work and we can see. But I’m booking your induction for tomorrow just in case”

me – “Ok, but I know we won’t need to worry about that, ok?!”

I had decided at the beginning of this pregnancy that I was going to refuse an internal exam after my first experience with it while in labour with Lucy but I agreed for the sake of avoiding an induction.

dr – “Hey, great, you are already 2-3cm and after what Iv just done I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw you back here this afternoon, but go home, and get labour moving along *(wink)*” 

I had noticed some light cramping that week so wasn’t surprised to hear that, but that didn’t mean we were set for action just yet anyway.

So I went home, did housework, jumped on the trampoline, went for a long vigorous walk through the steepest streets in the neighbourhood, ate some curry, sent 20+ albums off to my printer, tidied the house, did a few other labour inducing activities… and got ready for the prospect of potentially having a baby in the next 24hrs.

At 10pm I was pleased to notice the return of some gentle but obviously progressive contractions. I had been praying and willing my body to do its thing and figured if we were at least progressed a bit further then there would be no pressure from my care-givers and we could just let this play out. I felt pretty convinced though that this baby was making its way on its own and was prepared to politely decline all ‘offers’ of induction. 

The next morning we woke, got Lucy ready, took a few last pregnancy photos just in case, grabbed our bags, again, just in case, I waddled Lucy down the street to her friends house and we made the peaceful drive to the hospital. I went straight to pathology, then wandered down to maternity where I was greeted with “ah great, you’re here, let’s get you set up for your induction”

“Haha, what? Oh, no, I’m not getting induced, that was just written down as a precaution, we are just waiting on my bloods, dr Florida is going to check me out and we will head home” they all looked at me like I was a crazy person…

“It’s cool, I’m in labour anyway, so, yeah, I’m not being induced”

Tick.tock…

“Ok hannah your bloods are here and we aren’t looking any better so let’s get this started”

I casually brush them off as they ushered me down to the same room I birthed Lucy, and the conversation continues back and forth, slowly becoming less casual till I eventually shed a tear as I expressed my fears, and concerns, and boldly stated “I want to do it myself, I know I can do it, I know everything is fine, and I don’t need anyone interfering with what I know I can do”

The staff were all great, sympathetic, understanding, gentle, genuine, they respected my right to choose. We chatted about our options, and why they were pushing, basically my dr was finishing up in 4hrs, then would be away for the next 4 days, I’d be passed from dr to dr over the next few days and they weren’t necessarily all going to be as gracious, we were coming to the weekend and in a small, quiet hospital like Bowral there are less staff, if I birthed in the evening and had a big bleed again like last time it’d take longer to get blood for me, longer for extra staff to arrive if required, etc etc. I was already 3-4cm and possibly would only need a little kick start then I could just continue on my own, they laid it all out and left us to discuss. We um’d and ah’d and then I got a nice big contraction, like the kind where I had to tell Vanan to stop talking, and that pretty much made up our minds. We called my mum to let her know she would need to pick up Lucy from her play date and that hopefully we would be done in time for a visit that afternoon. 

I agreed to have my waters broken and that if things didn’t continue on their own within the next hour or so (which I was certain they would) then we would talk about the options…all the while those contractions kept coming… OH MY GOODNESS, WE ARE DOING THIS!!

They broke my waters then went about their routines and left me to it for a bit.
I went to the bathroom.
“Vanan, you better tell her to come back, this isn’t going to take long”
I hopped into the shower
“I want it hotter”
Moan.groan
“Still too cold”
Moan
“Hotter please”

I ended up on my knees leaning awkwardly over the edge of the worlds smallest bath, shower running, Vanan rubbing my back.

Moooaannn moan moaaaannn

“Ok Hannah, let’s get you out where it’ll be safer for everyone” they were still keeping a close eye on me because of my history of being “a bleeder”

I knew we were at the business end so reluctantly obliged, I hopped out of the bath, and moved as quickly as I could (slowly and awkwardly) back to the bed while my midwife practically held that head in. 

Up on my knees with a few decent pushes a little head began to emerge, it felt so strange in my hand, like a wrinkly waterlogged peach. His shoulders were obviously bigger than his sisters, they required more effort to birth than I expected. They handed him through to me and I awkwardly sat down, holding this warm little body in my arms, amazed, in love, relaxed and energised. A boy! He was born just over an hour after my waters were broken, we cuddled, he attempted to feed, we cuddled, I drank a cup of tea and laughed with those around, a stark contrast to the last time I had birthed Lucy, in that same exact room too. I was able to shower myself and walk on down to the ward proudly pushing along this sweet little being all snuggled up in a soft blanket. It wasn’t even lunch time yet, mum hadn’t even left work to pick up Lucy yet, I did it myself, it was an incredible birth, better than I’d even hoped. Praise God. 

Vanan and I sat together in my room, with this little boy, in shock, talking names, and admiring this wonderful creation. He looked just like his sister, but was a shade darker, and had a rounder head. I may have jokingly referred to him as boy Lucy

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Lucy visited. I stayed one night, it was rough, the hospital was getting busy and we opted to head home asap. Feeding was not going great but I was determined to keep myself together and to not fall into the same heaping mess as we ended up in last time.

We named him Amos Abel Periasamy.

We all spent the next few weeks hibernating, eating meals prepared by others, in our pjs, and doting over him. Lucy loved him from the start and never once showed any signs of resentment or jealousy toward him when he required so much attention from me.

Feeding was hard for a while, day 4 was the hardest, by week four its was becoming easier, eventually, I don’t remember when, it became easy. I had to start taking motilium to maintain a decent supply but eventually reduced the dose down to a reasonable amount, I’m still taking it and it has totally been the best.

At 3months he was sleeping really well, waking once or twice at night, I remember lying in bed one night reflecting on how he’d just slowly stretched out his feeds through the night and and how great it was, I remember working out that at the same rate I’d likely be sleeping all night long in a few short months, I squeezed inside, bragged proudly about how great he slept, I was blown away, I slept well too, I had energy and even was able to do some regular exercise during the day…YOU FOOL!!! Haha, he did the old switcheroo on me overnight and decided that waking hourly would be his new thing…ouch. Then he threw in a few nights of waking every 20mins OUCH!! Instead of coming into our bed in the early hours of the morning he just spends the whole night there.

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He’s smiley, he smiles with his whole face, like ferociously! He jumps, he’s determined, strong and a serious mummas boy. He used to be chilled to just do whatever all day (another stark contrast to Lucy) but now he’s just chilled as long as he’s in the arms of his mumma and often his dad too. He spends most of his waking hours on my lap or my hip, he’s so stinking adorable and so delightful, I’m looking forward to seeing him grow, start to crawl, walk, run, talk but for now he’s just gona stay stuck to me like glue, smiley, giggly, squealy, squishy, kissable glue.

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Here are a collection of images my dear friend Renee from Renee Louisa Photography took for me, I love these photos she took, and love that they show my post pregnancy belly bulge, messy hair, no makeup, tired face loving on my babes, cos that is real…well I don’t usually get around in a dress, I also usually have my hair scooped up into a messy bun, so its not completely candid…just real.

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And a few of my favourites from the relaxed session we had with Sarah Kennedy Photography.

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