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Extended Work
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| Two For Joy? - Going Home | |
| By julie | ||||||||
| 28 June 2006 | ||||||||
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ok maybe you are bored of hearing of my (almost true) account of having my daughter but I still feel there's more to say. Plus it's a dodgy way to finish aren't I suposed to fall in love and my child have a father figure? Let's just say I live in the real word not a Danielle Steel novel (no offence to Ms Steel fans). I will blame all you lovely people who gave me such good reviews you got my confidence up and the creative juices flowing. Ok so this is it reality has hit home. I was told to leave the hospital after two days I still personally think they were mad,a five minute lesson on how to bath your baby and two minutes on how to change a dirty nappy "front to back on little girls my love don't want her getting nasty germs in her foof foof now do we darlin" You guessed it Mrs Cheerful was still as annoying as ever. Anyway like I said my lessons hastily taught and I'm shoved out the door. Two days!! honestly it took six weeks and four home visits for the RSPCA to let me take my dog home and I could still see them wondering if they had made the right decision as they walked away but the hospital in their wisdom let me leave with another human being. I think it was the sight of my calm capeable mum standing there (It can't have been my dad, everytime he looks at katie he cries). My mum looks like she can handle anything, luckily the hospital don't know she was just here three days before getting back on the train to travel 250 miles back down South (it's the crying grandad that's staying). Ok so reality has hit, mum has gone, dad's gone home (all the crying gave him a headache) and it's just me and her. My house is so quiet, Katie is sleeping, dog's sleeping and I am once again in panic mode. I'm sat at the kitchen table with a silk cut and a coffee, it's the middle of January and all the windows are open (I am paranoid about the smoke even though there's two shut doors between us). All I can think of is I have to bath her on MY OWN. Oh God she's crying I stub out my tab and lunge for the living room "There There" Ok screams have got louder maybe she's hungry Who would have thought that trying to get a bottle out of the fridge and into a jug of water could be so bloody difficult. It's taking forever and the screams are at a pitch that only dogs can hear now. She doesn't want it, great after all that she doesn't want it. I do a mental check list in my head Is she hungry No Check Does her nappy need changing No Check Does she have wind No Check Is she cold No Check Try boiled water maybe she's just thirsty? No Check Ok so what else is there? The crying has been going on for an hour now with no sign of giving up and now there are hiccups thrown in too. I've tried dummies, toys, walking backwards and forwards and I have even tried the swinging thing I saw in an episode of friends once. Nothing. There is something seriously wrong with my baby I think she's an alien child. Brian was right he's not the father, during one of my druken blackouts I was abducted my aliens and inpregnated by a very loud race of extra terrestrials and she is now calling to them to rescue her from this useless human being they decided should be her mother. It's now been two hours. How can something weighing 6llb 3oz's make so much noise and have the energy to carry on for this long? Time to phone the doctor. I think she's broken. I have to shout so the receptionist can here me but she takes my details and assures me the doctor will be here as soon as he can. One hour later still no doctor Two hours later still no doctor and she's still crying Two hours thirty minutes knew I should have gone private bloody NHS Two hours 45 minutes He's here yippee He's twelve!!! what the hell will he know "it's colic, nothing to worry about" Easy for him to say he hasn't been stuck for four hours 45 minutes with a screaming baby. "Ok then what cures that" "nothing I'm afraid she'll grow out of it, usually peter's out when they are three months old" Three months, she's only four days old "You could try some infacol, try not to worry your stress will just make her worse" Great I waited nearly five hours for a twelve year old to tell me not to worry I keep smiling as I show him to the door "Thank you so much, you've been a great help" motherhood has made me into such a liar I can see him shaking his head over me as he walks up the drive, what does he know I'm sure he's not even legally old enough to make a baby let alone treat one. I resist the urge to slam the door, Katie's quietening down now and don't want it to start all over again. I lay her down in her moses basket and decide that now would probably be a good time to bath her. Maybe your not suposed to do it at eleven pm but i'm already up a height may as well get it over with. I turn on the fire, lay out everything I need (how can someone so little require so much nappie, wipes, baby bubble bath, baby gro, vest, towel, cotton wool. I also very cleverly decide to warm her bottle. Ok here goes I have her in the bath, she looks like she it likes it. Okay tricky bit cotton wool cleaning with one hand. Y'know this is not so bad. I can relax my grip now, don't want to cut off her circulation. I'VE DONE IT!!!! She's out of the bath and I havn't drowned her, score one to me. Lamps are on, clean warm baby snuggled up on my lap contentdly sucking on her bottle. Ok so the living room is a mess but you know what this mother thing may not be too bad. Yeah right, who am I trying to kid.
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