23 February 2014

My Love My Life 2/12 - Energy

I joined this new project last month called My Love My Life.  It's a new blogging cirle with some Professional photographers, who often so busy with work they never get around to capturing family photos of their own.  Probably a reason they started out in Photography in the first place.  I'm a bit like the odd one out because all I do is document Daisy's life.  They invited me in after the Letter's to my Daughter circle dried up. It's a similar thing really, just different branding.  The idea is that once a month they take time out with their family and rekindle the love that got them into Photography.

It's not often I get to spend the weekend with my daughter so when the opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it with both hands.  Had this unusually free weekend landed weeks earlier, I'm not sure how much fun we would've had because I haven't been feeling that great recently.  My doctor has been very concerned about my health and said I’ve taken a dramatic nosedive, which for him was just too rapid a decline for CF and he needed to get to the source of the problem and fast.  We discussed various pressing issues I’m dealing with and my voice wobbled.  I tried to hold it together, but as the questions were fired at me I cried, he knows if I cry I’m not coping.  I sighed and gave an absolute belter of an analogy that I literally just made up.  I told the Prof it’s a bit like having a dead body in the house, you can hide it in a room but the smell is still there.  They all burst out laughing, it was one of those appointments where the room was full of people, Dr, Student, Nurse all in attendance, another reason why I don’t want to cry.  I worry about scaring the students with my overly dramatic "Jeremy Kyle style" part of my life, that's outwith my control. Afterwards the nurse said “this is real life and they need to learn that”.  Anyway, the doctor said he is going to start using my analogy and after knowing him fourteen years, I believe him.    I didn’t realise how funny it all sounded.  He decided to put me on a short course of steroids, which I was a little weary of at first.  I trust him completely though and by the time the valentine holiday weekend was here, I was one week into the course and had super human mummy powers!  No wonder some athletes scoff steroids, I was absolutely buzzing with energy.

No school Friday, Monday and Tuesday, so plenty time for lots of fun activities with my favourite little person.  Our first adventure of the weekend was a trip to Stonehaven, which is a lovely coastal village fifteen miles south of where we stay in Aberdeen.  It was a fairly mild day but snow was forecast for 3pm so we needed to get out and back at a reasonable hour just in case the weather turned nasty.  Stonehaven or Stoney to locals, is picture perfect.  It's a place I used to go as a kid in the summertime, back then they had a lot more facilities for kids.  It’s a shame how they don’t preserve certain attractions.  Saying that, the old outdoor swimming pool is still going strong.  Just about everyone has been in it once and lived to tell the tale and I'm hoping to take Daisy one day as a right of passage really, but she needs to get some meat on her bones first because it will no doubt be freezing.  We were wrapped up warm and I wished I'd put some extra socks on my little friend, I forgot and felt a little guilty.  Mind you it didn't stop the enjoyment of a walk in the fresh sea air.  We collected driftwood for Nanny and some seashells.  Poppy our dog was in her element digging and collecting stones for herself; a trait she has had since she was a puppy.  We walked up to the harbour and spoke to a couple of men who were fishing, Daisy was desperate to see a fish and I told her we would go fishing one day.  I said I’m sure that’s something Granda might like to come along to.  We then had a bite to eat in a place called The Ship Inn, which is always a pleasure.  Before heading home I popped into a traditional sweet shop and picked us up some yummy sweets for in the car on the way home.  That was our Valentine’s Day.  Nothing beats spending time with the people that mean the most to you.
The next day we were up and out early because we were going Horse Riding!  Since getting her beloved Rocking Horse for Christmas Daisy has been desperate to try a real horse.  We have a local riding centre so it was really easy to organise.  It was a chilly morning so I put Daisy’s ski suit on and she looked real cosy.  I was half expecting her to be afraid when we got to the riding centre, but she wasn’t.  While we were waiting we had a look around the stables and met some of the other horses.  Stanley was very friendly and he was huge.  The stable girls arrived with a medium sized black horse and said his name was Sam.  Daisy chatted the whole time to the girls that took her out riding.  They walked though the forest, jumped over fallen trees and told her about the magic tree deep in the forest and that when her horse Sam walked though it, she had to make a wish.  All very exciting as you can imagine for a four year old.  Afterwards we saw a horse with sore legs getting off his bandages and having cream applied to his wounds.  Daisy didn’t want to go home and asked if she could go on again.  I promised that we would go back another day.  She told me she didn’t want anyone else go on her horse Sam, he’s her horse.

The following day, we woke up to a bright spring morning, not the warmest of days but the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.  We threw the Radioflyer trike into the car and off we went; to the park.  I couldn’t believe how cold it was, our weather here is so tricky to call.  I quickly found myself trying to persuade Daisy to come to the cafe but almost wished I never.  I have no idea how mums out with children on their own manage to navigate their way around getting food, paying, finding tables and keeping control of the children.  It went a bit like this, I find a table, tell her to go sit at it, join the queue for food.  She starts messing about, she falls off the chair and onto the floor and suddenly you know everyone is thinking, “where is that child’s Mother”!? and I’m like, I’m here in the queue trying to get bloody food.  I feel so stressed because people are oblivious that I’m unable to coerce Daisy into staying beside me, order, pay, carry a bag and hold a tray of food while looking for somewhere to sit.  It’s physically impossible, my body can’t do it; a stark reminder of how my independence is compromised by my health.  It’s not Daisy’s fault, she’s still young and real free spirit but at times I just want to scream and say if you won’t behave we can’t go out alone.  I struggled on, if the queue wasn’t so long it would’ve certainly helped.  You live and learn.  I ordered Cola, Cake and Hot Chocolate, we waited an age for our hot food and thankfully I managed to engage Daisy with my new camera lens.  We had a blast.  She decided she was going to pull lots of different funny faces and we both giggled looking at them after each shot.

This month I am linking to Tracy of Tracy Williams Photgraphy, be sure to check out her blog.




15 February 2014

LOVE

It's Valentines weekend and in a short space of time we have been exposed to the vast array of gifts received by loved ones, spread over the social networks quicker than a case of genital herpes; I find my eyes roll.  Of course my feelings on Love are somewhat warped, yes I am a seasoned love cynic.  Love has destroyed me somewhat.  What does Love mean to you?  For me it’s about mutual respect and trust.  Love is something we feel for someone or something and can even be described as a chemical reaction in the brain.  Some may confuse love with other feelings, like lust, which will most certainly return to haunt you.

Growing up I always felt loved by my parents, grandparents and friends.  We were not really a tactile family, but just because some don’t express love with words doesn’t mean they don’t love you.  The same as some people can throw out empty words but don’t really mean it. It’s not always about how much you say it, but more how much you prove it’s true.  Like everyone else I feared rejection and was conscious that my health was maybe an issue for some.  However I tried not to dwell on it too much, nobody knows how long they have on this earth. Don't get me wrong, like all other teenagers I partied, danced and had boyfriends but at the same time I felt like it was a race to get married and settle down always thinking about that ticking time bomb.  I didn’t take many risks always fearing for my health.  Like other girls I dreamt about marriage and the happy ever after. I wanted the normal life, however even how normal I pretended life was, my life was not normal.  As I got older and the prognosis for CF patients increased I thought that I maybe had a shot at happiness if I met the right person. 

My first serious boyfriend was when I was sixteen, he was a bit older than me and I thought we were right for each other, but we were more like friends. He was a graduate in business and being young and naive I thought I was aiming high.  He used to make me love song compilation tapes for Valentines Day and I'm feeling old even saying that.  You would be mistaken to think he was the romantic type, he wasn't.  In fact he was what Scots refer to as "tight" and would not have bought anything unless absolutely necessary.  Yes we had the same music taste and the tape was appreciated, but within days you'd find that tape in his car stereo or Walkman.  His mother wasn’t all that keen on me, I think she thought I was lower class and being ill I would need looked after rather than the other way around with me running after her sons ass.  We lasted five years together but with hindsight, I really should have pulled the plug years earlier.

I did meet my Mr Right and for the first couple of years my life felt perfect.   As you all know we waited a long time to have our daughter and she was finally born five years into our marriage.  I often worried how long I would have with them and I thought about how our life together would come to a tragic and premature end.  I still have good memories of the early days and presents I got from him.  One in particular sticks out because it felt like it was bought with real compassion.  He wanted to buy me a gift and asked what I would like, to his surprise I said a condenser tumble dryer and later that day we went to John Lewis and I picked my sparkly new toy.  I still have it!  I openly admit I'm a difficult one to buy for.  Having always had my own money, if I wanted something chances are I'll have bought it before anyone else did.  In the latter stages of our relationship I would pick and purchase my own gifts out the joint bank account and I'm sure there's a lot out there that do the same.  Does it mean they don't love you, probably not.  When we are submerged in day-to-day stresses of family life, Valentines Day can get shelved.  Some would argue it's exploitation of a commercial nature to make people go out and spend money on certain things.  To me, it is an important occasion, as is Christmas and for no effort to be made towards you, it can feel like there is something wrong in the relationship.  You should know your partner enough to appreciate if the gesture of Valentine’s Day is important to them.  That doesn't always mean flashy gifts, but flashy suited me with my inherited rather expensive taste.  In fact it meant I would have no qualms reciprocating the flashy gifts.  I saw it as an investment into the relationship and didn't care too much about the price of stuff.  If you want it you want it right, life is too short and no one knows that more than me.  I came so close on various occasions to buying my man his latest dream car or even his own caravan.  I thought about the look on his face when he woke up and looked out our bedroom window, imagining the big bow I would put around it and if I could manage to do it without raising suspicion.   Then I'd come back down to reality and remember how I used to be in love and how he stewed his goose. 

I had very strong views about Love and family life and I wanted to be part of a big family, a normal family.  A family who shared the same core values.  I knew my health would not allow me to bear many children and so it was important for me to feel like I had a place in the home of my extended family and be treated with respect and valued as my husbands wife and chosen life partner.  As a family unit we are a team and no one is more valuable than the other.  I viewed my household equal and my love for my husband was the same as my love for our daughter, but some people don’t think like that.  I highly recommend love, but it's a two-way thing and needs work.  I don't think I realised that in the early days.  I guess I thought once the feelings were there and the marriage certificate was in the bag it was a done deal; until death do us part.  What I will take with me in the future is that in order to be compatible with your boyfriend, you must also fit in with their family.  I played Love safe at times and didn’t take risks but when I did, I took risks that I know I shouldn’t have.  People have questioned that maybe things didn’t work out because of my health, thinking the fear of the unknown was too much to bear.  I do know my mental health was considerably strained at times with various issues outwith my control and it was hard to keep it altogether.  I told someone recently that I believed emotional turmoil can be damaging to physical health and turns out I was right.  But, I am made of strong stuff and I live to fight another day. Unfortunately circumstances can change in the blink of an eye, one silly mistake and the rug can quickly be pulled from under your feet. Don’t let it happen to you.  They say never feel sad about someone who gave up on you, feel sorry for them because they gave up on someone who would've never given up on them.  Sometimes you don't know what you've got until it's gone so love with all your heart, be kind to each other and above all else be honest. 






11 February 2014

The MAD Blog Awards 2014

The countdown has started for nominations to the MAD Blog Awards 2014.  It’s now your opportunity to put forward the names of your favourite parent bloggers.  You don’t have much time so you need to act NOW.  The prizes for winners are nominal, but for the people that put their heart and souls into these blogs, money is irrelevant and satisfaction and pride are the prizes here. 

What are the MAD BLOG AWARDS, well at first I thought it was awards for mad people that blogged.  I laughed to myself and thought, oh that's me, but after reading some of the previous winners I thought that maybe I wasn’t actually that mad.  I mean, I do find it odd telling the world what is going on in my life.  Something’s you want to keep private but I do want my readers to understand the whole picture and feel like they really understand what I'm writing about.  I still want to be able to walk to the local shops with my head held high.  I think I can

If you asked me about blogging four years ago I wouldn’t have had a clue about it.  I guess I’ve become more aware of blogging due to moving around in Photography circles and it was one of my photographer friends that suggested I go ahead and do it.  She purchased my blog for me as a gift and I was given a boot up the backside to get it started.  I told her I had thought about it a few years previous and my husband had one of his “friends” lined up to build it for me.  It didn’t feel right though, gut instincts prevailed and I decided this person was not going to have anything to do with it.

I started out in June last year, not really knowing where the blogging would take me. I have been using it as a form of therapy at times because I find it incredibly difficult to get my point out there without getting caught up in the emotions of what I’m talking about and what it actually feels like to be dealing with certain situations.  I can start to cry watching TV or when my mind just goes off in a tangent thinking about the most random things.  Sometimes you just need an outlet to offload things that need to be said.  When I write it all down, it feels rational.  I don’t get as carried away as I would if I was trying to tell someone how I feel face to face.  I often find it difficult to stick to the subject in mind and I always end up rambling and forgetting what I am meaning.  With blogging, my thought process becomes clinical and I feel like the things I’ve written about don’t take up room in my head anymore. 


So, now it's over to you and this is what you have to do.  Click on the link Vote for Me and copy and paste this URL http://dream-of-daisy.blogspot.co.uk into the blog categories you think suit my blogging style and subject.  Easy peasy lemon squeezey.  Maybe we can cheer up my little grumpy girl with a trip to London if I make the finals!



02 February 2014

The Twelve Week Scan



You might recall I was getting myself all worked up that we would somehow be behind with the 12 –week scan.  I didn't know I was supposed to visit my community midwife as soon as I knew I was pregnant.  Why would you know with your first.  Nobody tells you what you have to do. Here's the next part in the Waiting for Daisy series, following on from Two Pink Lines 

It’s feels like nobody medical takes your pregnancy that seriously until you reach certain milestones and the twelve week scan is one of them.  For most this will be the first time you find out your due date, you’ll see the baby’s heartbeat on the scanning monitor or there’s the cliche of Dad fainting when the sonographer announces it’s twins; which probably never happens.  You’ll go home with a little print off and you are so proud of this picture you will mostly likely frame it! By the end of the day you'll have bought something for this baby, maybe that pretty baby book you’ve had your eye on.  It’s such an exciting time bringing a baby into the world and I was beaming with pride, 2009 was definitely my best year. It's hard to keep a lid on the bubbling pot of excitement when you know you're expecting but haven't officially announced it yet.  The difference with me was that pot had been on the boil for quite some time.  Most knew before the 12 week scan because it would've been a bit tricky to keep from people you see day to day or week to week; people that were close knew.  I tried to keep things pretty casual though, not wanting to set myself up for a fall should the worst happen.  However, I did want to make plans because you can't just sit and wait until you have the baby, you should be able to enjoy the things that pregnancy brings.  
I was nervous.  I guess these appointments are also where you might find out it is game over for the pregnancy; something that constantly plagued my mind.  You just try and get through one day at a time.  I’ve spoken to women who just dreaded getting their period every month when they were trying to conceive.  They would sink into depression when Mother Nature confirmed they were not pregnant.  I would say the whole IVF experience was a bit like that.  Living on a knife-edge, waiting for something to go wrong.  This was a huge deal to me.  IVF doesn’t just happen overnight and one day Daisy will realise how much she was loved and wanted.  I think most people with first pregnancies are a little nervous; it’s to be expected.  Then there’s those earth mother’s who have had textbook pregnancies, no problems no fear and maybe a little naive.  I don’t think they would share the same anxiety as someone who has battled to become pregnant or someone who has lost babies in the past.  I knew already how hard a battle it was to get to this point and I still felt very much in battle.  I read my baby book that I got from the awful midwife like a boss!  I wanted to get myself gestationally aware, so I knew what to expect, what was happening and when.    

We arrived at the scanning department and I pretty much knew what to expect, you see it on TV all the time.  Plus I get scans of my internal organs every year, so I know the drill.  The uncomfortable part about the twelve week pregnancy scan is the sonographer pressing down on your stomach when your bladder is so full that you are just desperate to pee.  Your uterus is so small, so in order to get clear pictures of the baby you have to have a full bladder.   When your bladder is full it pushes the uterus to the surface of your body, a bit like how the ballcock valve in a toilet works.  As my name was called we both stood up and walked through to one of the treatment rooms.  I remember thinking I’ve got so much to say to this woman and she’s only supposed to be doing the scan.  I told her that I’d came here after having successful IVF treatment at the fertility centre and that I hadn’t found my community midwife very helpful.  I told her I was concerned that nobody knew my background and that I was likely to be a high risk patient.  Once you are confirmed pregnant by the fertility clinic, that is the last they see of you.  You are thrust into the antenatal system.  She quickly assured me that I would be seen a lot and that I would probably end up having scans every few weeks.  This really put my mind at ease.  I got up onto the bed and pulled my jeans down a little so the sonographer could get to the area where the uterus sits.  You may think it sits just under your belly button but you would be wrong, as it's actually a lot further down.  I always laugh to myself at my annual review appointments because the sonographer always has a cheeky wee look to see if there’s anything in there.  That cold jelly stuff was squirted onto my stomach and I heard myself take a deep breath.  The lady asked if I was ready and there was a tense few seconds before she turned the machine on.  Then she looked at me and said, there is your baby as she gestured towards the screen with a lovely warm smile.  I exhaled

The scan was AMAZING, seeing our baby on the screen for the first time, as a little human being was the best thing ever.     Our due date was the Nineteenth of December, a little Christmas baby for Mr & Mrs S!  I can't even put into words how you feel seeing your baby for the first time.  It's another one of those moments that you'll never feel until you are in that situation.  Even the most hardened personalities would crumble.  It didn’t last long, maybe five to ten minutes.  It's really just a measuring exercise so you can be given a due date.  Nevertheless, it was a wonderful and an incredibly emotional experience, more so because we waited so long for it to all happen.  We wanted this baby more than ever.  We got some really neat pictures to take away with us of our little alien looking blob.  Having a national health service in the UK, there’s never any exchange of money for medical services so I found it really weird when asked to give a donation for the print out of pictures you got.  Really, are we that low on funds that we are asking expectant mothers to pay for scan pictures.  After hearing about my medical history she took us up to the clinic.  I remember the first thing my husband and I spoke about after we came out of the room.  I mean the second we got out the room! Well actually we were whispering to each other like little kids.  We were discussing the sex of the baby while following the scanning lady up the corridor.  We were both convinced it was a girl and I was on cloud nine because I really liked the idea of having a girl but didn’t want to get my hopes up.  I wasn’t sure what my husband’s preference was; he never really gave clear answers.  I thought all Dads wanted a son, you know to play football with and stuff like that but he was different, he didn’t like sport.  I knew he fancied a little Daddy’s girl.


We were sitting in the waiting room to see the doctor.  Monday appointments were for high-risk pregnancies and that was me.  I didn’t fully appreciate why I was high risk.  I thought the main issue was that as the baby grew inside me, it would put pressure on my lungs and I would struggle to breathe as my diaphragm was pushed up towards my lungs.  That’s it, end of, oh and the bugs in my chest possibly going crazy.  I had absolutely no idea of the possible things that could go wrong during a normal pregnancy, let alone mine.  The Consultant Obstetrician that would be looking after me, well I wasn’t overly keen on him.  Years and years of experience visiting the hospital, you get a feeling for the people you trust.  I have no doubt that he was a perfectly capable Doctor but I just wasn’t sure about him at times.  The reason for this was that he was not an expert in CF, so when I would ask questions in relation to CF and pregnancy I felt he didn’t know, he gave the impression that he was guesstimating; not his area of expertise I get that.  However that doubt in my mind made me watch his every move and analyse every response.  I thought it should be the responsibility of this man to make it his business to find out how my pregnancy may affect me and give me as much information as possible.  But give him his due, it was the first he had met me so I had to give him a chance.   He decided to get me back to the clinic in three weeks time.

Now that the morning sickness had subsided, I was feeling better.  Mr S was going back to work for two weeks.  I didn't have to be back at hospital for three weeks, so I booked a holiday to Turkey with Mother for some much needed relaxation.