Saw the GP this week, and she has referred me for counselling for postnatal depression. Not sure how I feel about that to be honest. No great weight of my shoulders or feeling that something has been recognised. More just a general feeling that counselling probably won't help, and what would is probably a good night's sleep and an end to Edward's reflux.
Heard from the nursery I've booked Elizabeth into for her pre-school funded places, and she definitely has one for after Christmas starting on Tuesday January 5th, so that is something!
New tumble dryer arrives tomorrow (can't believe we've lasted another week without one!). Somehow we have managed - ditched the real nappies last weekend when we went on our PremierInn expedition, and have been using disposables ever since. Sheets and muslins generally drying on radiators with a bit of help at the beginning of the week from Mum and Dad.
Yes, the PremierInn thing was a nightmare. Unmitigated nightmare. It started well. We arrived and were overwhelmed with how much free time there is when you're not washing, cooking or cleaning. We visited our friends (who had christening next day) and saw other friends staying upstairs in same hotel, then got ready and went across to the Beefeater attached for our meal at 6.30pm. Edward was very grouchy, but Elizabeth ate superbly, and we all had a drink! I went back, bathed Edward, fed him and put him in his cot, then swapped places with husband who brought Elizabeth back later for her bath and she went to be bed smoothly too. Then he woke up, and all hell let loose! I was back and forth from the restaurant to try to settle him, but he wouldn't. He was awake almost every hour until after 5am, and by the time Elizabeth woke up at 6.30am I felt like I'd been repeatedly kicked in the head by a donkey. Had to 'do' the rest of the day though - breakfast in public, then back to get our church clothes on, then navigate our way to the church, then survive service, then back for the aftershow party - survive feeding Elizabeth and not being able to get Edward to sleep. They both slept on they way home (all the way pretty much) then Elizabeth wouldn't settle when we got back!!! They both have colds, Edward's top left tooth has just come through... all in all a nightmare but we did it, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger!!
Friday, 25 September 2009
Friday, 18 September 2009
up and down...
Well, I went to see Grandad in the chapel of rest, and instantly thought I'd regret it forever. I was calm and relaxed as I walked over to the modern building that houses these private chapels of rest, and the lady said to me, "Are you ready?" as she took hold of both sides of the double doors. I wasn't at all prepared for the fright - I literally jumped and had a sharp intake of breath, as the room was so small, and Grandad was right there in front of me, obviously lying in the coffin. I had thought he'd be at the end of the room, and I could edge in and walk as close as I wanted, but as it was I was right on top of the coffin, and had to edge past with my back flattened against the wall. People who say that dead people look like they are sleeping are being a little economical with the truth. Poor Grandad did not look like himself at all. His skin was taught, with his eyelids pulled really low down over his eyes, and his mouth very tight. His head was tilted upwards with his nose in the air, and his nose looked nothing like Grandad's. His nose was always big, whereas this was very thin and almost hooked. His suit, the suit he wore to our wedding, seemed to swamp him. He took up the whole coffin though, which surprised me. My heart was beating like I don't know what, and try as I might I couldn't get close enough to put my letter into the coffin, so after a few minutes of crying and trying to calm myself down I left and asked the undertake to leave the letter in his coffin.
Then I came back home where I'd left Edward and Elizabeth with Dad and re-lived the horror. I couldn't get the image out of my head, and was quite worried that I'd seriously traumatised myself - particularly as my vague phobia of the dark became so extreme that night that I was worried about getting up to feed Edward.
As the funeral day arrived though I had other things to focus on, and gradually things have got better. The funeral was a perfect day. Blue sky day. Beautiful drive to the crematorium, which felt like the top of the world. Family members arrived outside, and the hearse pulled up - Nan looked absolutely dreadful though peering out of the rear window of her car. In we went to 'Ferry 'cross the Mersey' and Grandad's brother Ken lead the proceedings. I hadn't realised he was taking the whole service, but apparently he had asked him to do that about four years ago.
Time came for Amy to speak, so I went up with her and Dad. I was quite surprised that Dad couldn't get any words out at all, and the emotion was really running high. Amy struggled and sputtered on, and I read out the last paragraph for her - trying to be as strong as I could be finally breaking down on the last words. Ian read out some really lovely memories and painted a good picture of Grandad, then finally the strains of "You'll Never Walk Alone" sounded and we walked out, leaving Grandad's coffin with lillies and roses on top sitting there.
Outside in the sun again we saw the Scottish relatives, and it was all a bit surreal. We dashed back to pick the children up, then all headed down to the Black Swan where everyone was sitting out in the garden overlooking the river. It was a really really lovely afternoon, and as Mum later commented "[Grandad] would have enjoyed it". Ian had put wine gums and kitkats (Grandad's favourites) on the tables, and Elizabeth ran about freely while I tried to talk to Grandad's brothers from Liverpool, Ken and Ron, and the Scottish relatives - Elaine, Diana, and Alison.
We left and later I joined Mum, Dad, Amy, Chris, Stu and Carley at the White Hart where we raised a glass to Grandad and talked over the day. Felt much more at peace, and glad that Mum seemed less angry and resentful about it all.
Since then I've seen the health visitor and been in tears, with noises being made about Postnatal depression, so I'm seeing the GP next week - and who knows where that will take me. Part of me feels that it is just tiredness, but then another part of me thinks that the over-riding sense of anxiety that I always seem to have is spoiling everything, and Elizabeth particularly is suffering from me being permanently stressed.
We're off tomorrow to stay in a PremierInn for the first time since children, and as we've been without a tumble dryer (another story!) all week I dispensed with reusable nappies last night, and Edward has been wearing horrible horrible disposables all day to day so we don't come back to a mountain of washing! He tucked into oatcake and mashed banana for lunch which he seemed to really enjoy. He has been marginally less sick these last few days, and very much more purposeful in his crawling - he likes to head for the curtains, fireplace or lamp switch, and this afternoon I came upstairs to find him and Elizabeth underneath her bed!
Then I came back home where I'd left Edward and Elizabeth with Dad and re-lived the horror. I couldn't get the image out of my head, and was quite worried that I'd seriously traumatised myself - particularly as my vague phobia of the dark became so extreme that night that I was worried about getting up to feed Edward.
As the funeral day arrived though I had other things to focus on, and gradually things have got better. The funeral was a perfect day. Blue sky day. Beautiful drive to the crematorium, which felt like the top of the world. Family members arrived outside, and the hearse pulled up - Nan looked absolutely dreadful though peering out of the rear window of her car. In we went to 'Ferry 'cross the Mersey' and Grandad's brother Ken lead the proceedings. I hadn't realised he was taking the whole service, but apparently he had asked him to do that about four years ago.
Time came for Amy to speak, so I went up with her and Dad. I was quite surprised that Dad couldn't get any words out at all, and the emotion was really running high. Amy struggled and sputtered on, and I read out the last paragraph for her - trying to be as strong as I could be finally breaking down on the last words. Ian read out some really lovely memories and painted a good picture of Grandad, then finally the strains of "You'll Never Walk Alone" sounded and we walked out, leaving Grandad's coffin with lillies and roses on top sitting there.
Outside in the sun again we saw the Scottish relatives, and it was all a bit surreal. We dashed back to pick the children up, then all headed down to the Black Swan where everyone was sitting out in the garden overlooking the river. It was a really really lovely afternoon, and as Mum later commented "[Grandad] would have enjoyed it". Ian had put wine gums and kitkats (Grandad's favourites) on the tables, and Elizabeth ran about freely while I tried to talk to Grandad's brothers from Liverpool, Ken and Ron, and the Scottish relatives - Elaine, Diana, and Alison.
We left and later I joined Mum, Dad, Amy, Chris, Stu and Carley at the White Hart where we raised a glass to Grandad and talked over the day. Felt much more at peace, and glad that Mum seemed less angry and resentful about it all.
Since then I've seen the health visitor and been in tears, with noises being made about Postnatal depression, so I'm seeing the GP next week - and who knows where that will take me. Part of me feels that it is just tiredness, but then another part of me thinks that the over-riding sense of anxiety that I always seem to have is spoiling everything, and Elizabeth particularly is suffering from me being permanently stressed.
We're off tomorrow to stay in a PremierInn for the first time since children, and as we've been without a tumble dryer (another story!) all week I dispensed with reusable nappies last night, and Edward has been wearing horrible horrible disposables all day to day so we don't come back to a mountain of washing! He tucked into oatcake and mashed banana for lunch which he seemed to really enjoy. He has been marginally less sick these last few days, and very much more purposeful in his crawling - he likes to head for the curtains, fireplace or lamp switch, and this afternoon I came upstairs to find him and Elizabeth underneath her bed!
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
A lot has happened...
... since I last posted.
The weekend brought with it the annual birthday bbq for husband - frantic. Stressful and frantic. I spent most of Saturday really snappety and borderline hysterical, then spent the evening up until 10pm preparing marinades and pecan pie and cupcakes...
The day itself was nice in that we could spend the morning with Mark and Angela before the guests arrived... then everything just went wild. I couldn't possibly be in two places at once (supervising Elizabeth eating her lunch, and pre-cooking the bbq food in the kitchen) and husband was outside doing his bbq thing in the rain. It was grey and damp, but the food seemed to go down well, and it was nice chatting to some of the people that we haven't seen in ages.
His actual birthday was on the Monday, and brought his parents and sister/brother-in-law/nephew over while I attempted to make a birthday cake and ice it, again under considerable psychological strain!!
My parents and brother called in on the way from the nursing home with the news that Grandad hadn't been eating or drinking, and this gave way to really scary news the next day (Tuesday). Dad took Nan in to be at his side as the nursing home seemed to think he didn't have long to live.
That night I went to the nursing home. Nan was there, as was Mum. It was really quiet and peaceful in some ways, but distressing and just so so sad. I knew that Grandad was going to die that night, and driving back looking at the moon realising that he wouldn't live to see another morning was just so so sad. The phone call came in the morning from Dad - he'd died at around 3am, and Nan was with him at the time. Painfully sad all day long, but comforted that I'd been to see him. In some respects though it was 'normal service' as I just had to get on and get the tasks of the day done, and didn't really have time to reflect or grieve. It kept catching me out as I loaded the washing machine or did some mundane thing - and I'd have a cry for Grandad.
Since then there have been lots of things that Dad mainly has had to arrange. The funeral is this Friday at Telford crematorium, and so far the list of people planning to speak stands at his brother Ken, son Ian, my Dad and sister, and his other brother Ron is reading a psalm. There will be one hymn - Love Divine, and we'll walk in to Ferry 'cross the Mersey, and out to You'll Never Walk Alone.
I've written Amy's speech with her, so know what she's going to say. I've also written my own letter which I'm taking to the Funeral Director's in Dawley tomorrow when I'm planning to see Grandad in the chapel of rest. There was a bit of a furore over the red shoes - Dad had provided Grandad's suit and clothes and a pair of red trainers as he couldn't find dark shoes. I objected thinking it wasn't really respectful, although I'm sure Grandad would have seen the funny side, so a pair of shoes were duly provided today.
I'm not sure what to expect really. Have never seen anyone dead before, but kind of want to see him at peace after seeing the suffering on the night before he died. It might be really scary - I hope not. Keep telling myself its nothing to be frightened of, its only my Grandy!
In amongst all of that husband did the Wolverhampton half marathon on Sunday, Edward's reflux has got worse, and I feel generally worse in myself. I went to clinic on Monday and Edward's weight gain has slowed, although he has just started commando crawling with a mission (as of yesterday). BLW has continued, but he is just so so sick all the time! I moaned on to the health visitor about it, and then made an appointment to see the GP on her advice but was told to wait another month. Then just feel the familiar feelings of not being able to cope with these two children, and that there is no enjoyable aspect to the day. Feel over-worked, exhausted, and just plain miserable. Thought I could go to a support group for people with PND but turns out the support group isn't running, so arranged for a health visitor to do a home visit next week on Monday.
Ho hum.
The weekend brought with it the annual birthday bbq for husband - frantic. Stressful and frantic. I spent most of Saturday really snappety and borderline hysterical, then spent the evening up until 10pm preparing marinades and pecan pie and cupcakes...
The day itself was nice in that we could spend the morning with Mark and Angela before the guests arrived... then everything just went wild. I couldn't possibly be in two places at once (supervising Elizabeth eating her lunch, and pre-cooking the bbq food in the kitchen) and husband was outside doing his bbq thing in the rain. It was grey and damp, but the food seemed to go down well, and it was nice chatting to some of the people that we haven't seen in ages.
His actual birthday was on the Monday, and brought his parents and sister/brother-in-law/nephew over while I attempted to make a birthday cake and ice it, again under considerable psychological strain!!
My parents and brother called in on the way from the nursing home with the news that Grandad hadn't been eating or drinking, and this gave way to really scary news the next day (Tuesday). Dad took Nan in to be at his side as the nursing home seemed to think he didn't have long to live.
That night I went to the nursing home. Nan was there, as was Mum. It was really quiet and peaceful in some ways, but distressing and just so so sad. I knew that Grandad was going to die that night, and driving back looking at the moon realising that he wouldn't live to see another morning was just so so sad. The phone call came in the morning from Dad - he'd died at around 3am, and Nan was with him at the time. Painfully sad all day long, but comforted that I'd been to see him. In some respects though it was 'normal service' as I just had to get on and get the tasks of the day done, and didn't really have time to reflect or grieve. It kept catching me out as I loaded the washing machine or did some mundane thing - and I'd have a cry for Grandad.
Since then there have been lots of things that Dad mainly has had to arrange. The funeral is this Friday at Telford crematorium, and so far the list of people planning to speak stands at his brother Ken, son Ian, my Dad and sister, and his other brother Ron is reading a psalm. There will be one hymn - Love Divine, and we'll walk in to Ferry 'cross the Mersey, and out to You'll Never Walk Alone.
I've written Amy's speech with her, so know what she's going to say. I've also written my own letter which I'm taking to the Funeral Director's in Dawley tomorrow when I'm planning to see Grandad in the chapel of rest. There was a bit of a furore over the red shoes - Dad had provided Grandad's suit and clothes and a pair of red trainers as he couldn't find dark shoes. I objected thinking it wasn't really respectful, although I'm sure Grandad would have seen the funny side, so a pair of shoes were duly provided today.
I'm not sure what to expect really. Have never seen anyone dead before, but kind of want to see him at peace after seeing the suffering on the night before he died. It might be really scary - I hope not. Keep telling myself its nothing to be frightened of, its only my Grandy!
In amongst all of that husband did the Wolverhampton half marathon on Sunday, Edward's reflux has got worse, and I feel generally worse in myself. I went to clinic on Monday and Edward's weight gain has slowed, although he has just started commando crawling with a mission (as of yesterday). BLW has continued, but he is just so so sick all the time! I moaned on to the health visitor about it, and then made an appointment to see the GP on her advice but was told to wait another month. Then just feel the familiar feelings of not being able to cope with these two children, and that there is no enjoyable aspect to the day. Feel over-worked, exhausted, and just plain miserable. Thought I could go to a support group for people with PND but turns out the support group isn't running, so arranged for a health visitor to do a home visit next week on Monday.
Ho hum.
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