Category: The Life of Lara

80%

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I can swallow without painkillers, I can breathe, I can stay awake for more than an hour, and I can eat! I’m not feeling 100%, but after the past few months, 80% feels pretty damn good 🙂

Inigo and I took his paperwork up to school on Wednesday morning, and he is now on the road to being enrolled in big school. His school transition program starts next month, so we are gearing up for a big end of the year, and hopefully he is looking forward to the exciting elements of school rather than the scary ones. We’ve chosen a school that is just a bit further away than our local school, it’s just a bit smaller, a bit more diverse, and it has a school garden program, and no canteen. It’s still in easy cycling distance from home, and we’ve been attending playgroup and other activities there since before Inigo could walk, so he is very familiar with the environment.

I am trying super hard to be upbeat and positive, and not give in to the “he was only born about a week ago, and now I have to give his care over to the state, and he’s still my tiny baby” panic. He is sooo ready for the academic side of school life, and we are doing our best (with the help of his new preschool) to support his social interactions with kids his own age. He has no trouble holding long conversations with adults, but tends to find his peers pretty boring. Since that reminds me so much of me, I do worry, but I also know that we have made good choices for him, and that he will be well supported. And school for him will be worlds away from what I experienced in the mid 1970’s!

Uni is on a break for another week, so all I have to do is look after myself (and avoid getting sick again), and look after my lovely family. A new development that I would like to record for my own recollection is that in the past couple of weeks, bedtime has (touch wood) ceased to be a drama. After my very low point a few weeks ago, I’ve managed to institute a new routine that involves reading a long form story (starting with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and now James and the Giant Peach), after a few chapters of which he now snuggles in for a cuddle and drifts off to sleep in my arms. I hesitate to say that we have cracked the sleep problem, because it has been the bane of our existence for four and a half years, but the last two weeks have been great. Sleep time is now a time of loving connection and joy rather than a two hour screaming match that leaves everyone emotionally traumatised. Long may it last.

And tomorrow I am having friends over for a crafty morning. Mark has been going out on a Monday evening to follow his crazy hobbies, so I am co-opting Saturday mornings for mine. There is an open invitation to all, so if you are up for a bit of cake nibbling and yarn fondling, do pop over!

Nanna

I’ve had a few people ask about my relationship to Normal Lindsay, but I don’t really have one – he died a few months before I was born, so I only ever met him in utero. My maternal grandmother was one of his models, and our family has a few pencil drawings. My brother also has a copy of “The Magic Pudding’, in which he wrote, “A slice of pudding for Adam”.

Since my grandmother (Rita) was one of my favourite people ever, I am enormously proud of her beauty and her grace, the same qualities that captured Lindsay’s attention. In a biography of him, his daughter wrote of Rita that she had the sort of presence that meant she could “make a kitchen chair look like a throne”.

Nanna died before I met Mark, or ever considered Inigo, but she would have adored both of them, and they her.

Relaxxxx…

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Exam is over. Chest infection improving. Sore throat threatening, but I’ll pretend that isn’t happening.

I’ve applied for special consideration for my whole semester of work – hopefully my catalogue of pestilence is enough to melt the right hearts. And hell, even if I do only get a credit for this subject, I’ll know that I worked bloody hard for it, and there is no shame.

Tomorrow I am going to a birthday party for a much loved baby that was still born. Saturday night we’re having dinner with some friends we haven’t seen in ages, and on Sunday we are meeting up with my aunt and taking Inigo to the Norman Lindsay gallery at Springwood where they are having an exhibition about the models. We’ll be able to see lots of pictures of Nanna, and even some rare pencil drawings that we haven’t seen before. It will be a wonderful opportunity for Inigo to connect with a bit of family history.

All activities that seem very normal and healthy – I’m actually a little surprised that I can go back to being a (relatively) normal person after the last 2 months. And the few months before that. And… Well, you get the picture.

Touch wood, no more catastrophes for a while, m’kay?

A cruel twist

I had the follow up appointment with the infectious diseases specialist on Friday. I am clearly on the mend, and although still tired, I am able to start doing some light exercise. Like running around after a four and a half year old. I’ve lost 10kg, and am now down to the same weight I was at 10w pregnant with the twins. Another 40kg and I won’t be over weight any more!

The doctor asked if we were planning to have another child. I retorted that “planning” is a very strong word, but he remained serious.

Although I am no longer infectious to others, the virus is very dangerous to babies in utero, and can cause birth defects for a long time after primary infection. At six months post infection, the risk of serious birth defects is still 1%. So we have to wait until at least Christmas. At which point Inigo will be five, and I’ll be looking less like a mother and more like a freak of nature if I get pregnant at 43.

I’ve spent a few days crying, and I’m still not sure if I’m going to go out fighting, or just collapse whimpering in a corner. Time will tell.

In the meantime, I have an exam to study for, a recovery to manage, a cold/virus to battle, and the worlds best kid to wrangle and wrestle and smother with love.

And in Inigo news, he had his first swimming lesson as a sea dragon today, with a new teacher, and he was very nervous. He did amazingly well! Did a proper back float, and dove down to pick up a toy from the bottom of the pool – both for the first time. I love watching him expand his horizons, and fill with pride at his accomplishments!

Babyloss mamas – researcher needs you

There is a national perinatal grief study being done at the moment, and the researcher needs about another 80-100 responses so that she can finish her research. Currently, the health professional handbook has only ONE paragraph about perinatal grief and loss, and that is woefully inadequate. If you are an Australian resident interested in helping to change the outcomes for women who suffer the loss of a baby in the future, and you are between 6months to 5 years from your loss, please consider filling in the survey.

Piano Concert

We had less than ideal conditions for his first piano concert – it’s been four weeks since he’s had regular practice since all of us have been ill, and it was late in the day, with Inigo third last. By the time it was his turn he was jumping out of his skin, so it’s a little wonder he found it hard to concentrate.

But no matter what, I was so proud that he got up and said his name and announced his piece in front of every body – and he got it right, just as my phone ran out of storage, so I missed the end of his performance. But the applause was pretty good 🙂

Plague house update

Inigo hasn’t had an abnormal temp since lunchtime yesterday, and Mark is still very poorly, but on the upswing. I am about the same as I have been for the past 2 weeks, with the addition of nausea and a runny bottom, both courtesy of my poor besieged liver.

I saw the infectious diseases specialist today, but the results from my CMV test are still not back. He’s going to email me probably on Monday when the results come back from the lab. In the meantime, he still reckons it’s CMV, or possibly an “adenovirus”, for which there are no reliable tests.

The doctor used the word “mononucleosis”, and Mark did a bit of digging. Apparently mononucleosis (glandular fever) is usually caused by the Epstein-Barr virus, but there are a few other things that can cause it, one of which is CMV.

So the latest diagnosis is the thing everyone guessed first off – glandular fever – just via a completely different virus. I have a medical certificate covering 2 more weeks of illness, and 6 weeks of recovery.

More info as it comes to hand…

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Edited to add – just had an email from Dr Packham, CMV is confirmed.

Sick

On Saturday the 19th of May, I went out to dinner with some old friends (and one new friend), and the six of us polished off five bottles of wine. Though I was able to count the bottles the next day, I was alarmed to recall that not all of us were drinking, which means that (Name Changed to Protect the Guilty) and I must have drunk the bulk of it.

At about 9pm, Steph rang me to ask if I could work the next day at the parenting expo for Babes in Arms, the Ergo Baby Carrier distributor. Despite never having owned one, most of my friends do, I understand the principles of babywearing, and am a wizz at sales. I also thought that it would be an easy way to contribute a bit to the household finances.

At 3am, when we got home, I was beginning to think I had made a tactical error.

I worked from 9am till 4pm, then collapsed into bed, thrilled that I had managed not to throw up on any of my lovely customers.

Monday, I was still feeling ordinary. By Wednesday, I was still ill, but now I also had fevers, getting progressively worse through the day.

By Thursday, I submitted to pressure to go to the doctor. He prescribed antibiotics, which I started on straight away. By Saturday, I was no better, so I went to my usual clinic and saw another doctor, who ordered blood tests.

On Monday, I saw doctor number three who berated me about my mental health and love of gin for fifteen minutes before he even talked to me about my current illness.

Yesterday I saw one of my regular doctors who noted that my liver enzymes were approximately TWICE as bad as they were about 2 months ago, which, since I have been much better with the booze this year means that the liver damage is being caused by something else.

Current doctor has his money on a liver attacking virus, AKA viral hepatitis. Not Hep B, or C, the nasty ones = this should get better on it’s own, as long as I rest, drink lots of fluids, and take only minimal doses of panadol. And of course no booze.

Tomorrow it will be 2 weeks since I first started feeling ill, so I hope that is my lot and I start to feel better soon. Especially since Squish is ill too – he’s had fevers over night and a horrid cough. And I am in no state to care for him.

Thank goodness for Nanna & Gonad!