How our Easter really was… {Truth}

How our Easter really was… {Truth}

Hey friends,

It’s Easter Sunday night and I am sitting in bed with my feet up & sipping a cold drink – I’ve just had a soak in a hot bubble bath… Sounds pretty ideal right? Nice and relaxing… What a splendid way to spend an Easter Sunday evening… I really could just leave the post at this and be done with it, but I’ll be honest here and tell you how my Easter Sunday has really gone and why those few basic “self care” things NEEDED to happen.

Let me take you back to Thursday… I woke up to a very odd looking left eye. Like the bottom half my eyeball was blood shot red and it felt swollen… Great. I figured it may have been some random allergy, I had plans to attend an under 8’s day event with LuLu that day and had to get groceries for Good Friday, so it was a busy day – my eye was throbbing in pain but I didn’t have time to deal with it…
In the afternoon we all decide to go to the block to check out the progress on the house and I wanted to stop by the pharmacy and grabbed some eye drops as my eye still wasn’t improving & the pain was very distracting… I spoke to the pharmacist and they told me to go straight to an optometrist because my eye looked very bad… Great. 3:10pm on a Thursday afternoon, before the easter long weekend I had to try and get a last minute appointment in a small town… Thankfully I got an appointment and I was sitting in the waiting room, I get a text from Trent who was waiting in the car for me with the kids and it read; “Have to go home, Tommy has just been sick everywhere”. Here I am freaking out that I can’t race home and console and fix my baby and help clean up, but thankfully Trent is very capable and took care of it all like a champ. I was able to get my eye seen to, get ointment and eye drops… (Turns out a part of my eye was inflamed and started causing another part to deteriorate in a spot… As of Sunday night, it’s doing much better!) 
That night was fairly sleepless as Tommy was unwell and Good Friday was a slow day, just taking care of our little man was our main focus.
(I still got to attend church and then I cooked a delicious dinner of homemade garlic sauce with snapper, rice, prawns, salad and buttered baked potatoes – it all sounds very mismatched but ended up being spot on!) At this point Tommy is on a very bland and simple diet, we couldn’t work out what was going on and continued watching him closely. He was/is acting happy, has energy and is seemingly fine, but randomly is throwing up and it’s not immediately after food or anything… It truly makes no sense…
Saturday rolls around, he only has 3 tiny little spit ups, so I think he must be getting better….
Then….
12:15am Easter Sunday morning… I wake up to warm liquid gushing over my shoulders and chest, I quickly realise it’s my baby, vomiting in his sleep all over me and our bed… I thank God, I honestly said this out loud “thank you for having him beside me right now God”… As I grabbed him and rolled him over so he wouldn’t choke and that’s when he woke up very startled. Thankfully LuLu who was also in the bed was curled up on the other side so she avoided the mess and Trent was working, so I really had to make a survival choice here… I knew to change the sheets I would have to wake LuLu, get her out of bed, turn all the lights on and it would take 5-10 minutes to get everything changed and clean and at this point I was so darn tired & weak I could barely stand… So I just cleaned myself up quickly, changed my top and cleaned Tommy up & threw a towel over the wet sheets… (I have a waterproof protector under my fitted sheet so I knew the mattress would be fine…) Not ideal and sleeping on a towel is something I do not recommend for comfort levels – but you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes…
Trent wasn’t due home for like another 2 hours, so I walked and walked up and down the hallway trying to get my little man to settle, I laid in bed, sat on the couch, trying – I tried everything. He would nod off to sleep and then jolt awake… This continued to around 2am, when Trent finally got home and saved me and of course Tommy snuggled right into Trent and fell asleep…
So how did your Easter Sunday start? That good?
We were all up and out of bed before 6:30am.
We had fun doing the egg hunt and sharing in the excitement of new toys!
But Trent and I were both dead tired and bickered at each other a few times over stupid things and our patience was at an all time low. Then we ended up going to the doctors at 9am to get Tommy checked out… (Doctor also is stumped, hoping it’s a very mild form of gastro or a tummy bug presenting in an odd way… But if he worsens or doesn’t improve by Tuesday tests will be done)
I felt like I was running on total empty, I could barely move. I still had to peg out the bed sheets and then remake our bed and do all the other laundry, do groceries and tidy the house. We have sheets and towels everywhere at the moment to try and save our carpet and furniture if he was to be sick, so the state of my home isn’t making me happy either and add on the stress of having a baby (who is very small naturally so he doesn’t have weight to lose) being randomly & unexplainably sick… I was pretty much a wreck. I hate having my kids sick, it breaks my heart especially when it’s making no sense and I can’t “help”.
But I went home, pegged the laundry out, put another load on, tidied myself up, breastfed Tommy and put him to sleep, left Trent to nap/rest and took LuLu and headed to church… To rejoice in the fact He is risen, to listen to truth and just sit and be still… LuLu coloured quietly beside me as I listened about how loved I am and how great He is. I sat there quietly feeling like I was about to collapse – my bones ached and my body felt so weak, I prayed for strength to make it through the day,  for patience & wisdom, I asked our Lord to highlight some glimmers of joy in our day that at the time I just couldn’t find and prayed for the ability to give myself some grace and stop being so hard on myself…
Now church and prayer isn’t magic, it doesn’t instantly & magically fix things, but I always feel comfort at church & after praying. I know He is there, He loves & cares for me.
As we sung the last song at church LuLu wanted me to hold her, she clung to me, her little hands touching my hair and then holding me tightly, her head resting on my shoulder, she hardly ever does this anymore so I enjoyed every second of it – I savoured that moment and soaked it in. Despite feeling like I was too weak to hold her, I swayed gently and sung about our Lord rising from the dead on this day all those years ago and His love for us. He died to save us from our sins and rose 3 days later to give us eternal life, I felt so thankful for this life even the struggles.
For the rest of the day I powered through (I had to, what I didn’t get done today I would have to do on Monday and Trent was back to work then, so doing it while he was home to help me and stay with the kids made sense…) I got the groceries done, the bed made and the laundry finished and folded & put away… I gave myself some grace – we had ham and cheese toasted sandwiches for dinner, not exactly the roast I had planned.
By 4:45pm everyone was tired and our day was done. I vacuumed the floors like I do every night and quickly mopped them and we tucked our babies in bed. I ran a big hot bath with epsom salts and bubble bath and sunk down into it, snacking on a few Easter eggs, my first for the day & sipping cold water.

Then I had a hot shower and for a moment for my tired body felt better but now that I’m out and sitting here on my bed I can feel my bones aching again and I don’t know why, I really can’t explain it. But as soon as I get run down or not enough sleep – my body starts to crash, my bones aching is usually the first sign. It sucks, so I’ve got a cold drink and I’m venting my heart out to you all trying to relieve the stress and disappointment in myself.

Our Easter morning was still magical, we had an egg hunt and the kids loved their gifts. We spent time with a little friend who lives down the street, watched a movie and we spoke to our loved ones on the phone. We read Easter books and played games, Trent and the kids went for a walk around the block with some neighbours, but the enthusiasm on my end wasn’t to the level I like to give my kids, especially on special holidays. It was more on a survival level. That makes me feel disappointed in myself, but I know I have to give myself grace. I’m running on bare minimum sleep, my health isn’t terrific (working on it) and it’s just been a rough few days. There will be other Easters… There will be… And sometimes I think these rough days are blessings in disguise, they are given to us so we can appreciate the beautifully easy days where life just goes to plan that little bit more and also so I can share these stories – share them to encourage you.
No ones life is always perfect, kids get sick, lack of sleeps brings out the worst in everyone and somedays survival mode is all we can muster – occasionally even on special holidays… And that is ok. It is life.
Giving ourselves grace is vital, finding small ways to recharge with self care is vital and knowing it’s only a bad day/week is vital. This isn’t the story of my everyday, it’s a just a story of few hard days – days I probably won’t even remember in a year or 10! I try to remember this when I am struggling, this day will not be a stand out day, it’ll be a blur of the past, one day. I can chose to highlight what went right today and store that away in my mental memory bank or I can dwell on the negatives. I chose to remember the joy and let the hardships fade away.

Friends I hope somehow this rambling of words that have been typed with half closed eyes (so forgive the poor writing) has encouraged you today. Everyday won’t be magic, but there will be glimmers of joy in every single day. I can promise you that, you may just have to look a little harder.
I hope your Easter has been more easy & relaxing than ours!
Happy Easter.
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I just thought I would add as of Monday morning at 11am we have had no more vomits since that midnight incident. Praying to God, touching wood and everything is crossed our Little Mitty is on the mend. We would appreciate any extra prayers, please. He is still on a very bland and simple diet but if he continues to keep everything down until tomorrow morning I will start reintroducing food. I hope this is the end of this awful & confusing sickness! 

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My birth story, 1 year on.

13th December, 2017.
Tonight is emotional.
Tomorrow my baby turns one.
My last baby, will no longer be a baby and I’ve been on the verge of tears all day & I’m pretty sure they are set to erupt anytime now…
When it’s birthday time I get all nostalgic and emotional, I look back at old photos and just go back to those newborn moments. The newborn bubble is the greatest, I could live in a continuous loop of sleepy newborn days where you are so infatuated and in awe it’s intoxicating… But it speeds by at an absolutely ridiculous rate and before you know it, you are sitting there, the night before they turn 1 fighting back the tears as you scroll through photos reminiscing of the moment you met that tiny little person.
So let’s go there, let’s go back and let me tell you my birth story of my son…

Now for a tiny bit of back story, if you followed my pregnancy last year you will know it was pretty average. (To see more click HERE)
There were a few stints in hospital, a diagnosis of an auto immune disorder which causes me to be incredibly sick as well as all day “morning” sickness that lasts my entire pregnancy right up until about a minute before I give birth. All that sickness then lead to irritable uterus early on and a very, very painful pregnancy and well, to be honest I thought I was going to die last year I felt so awful. I was constantly worried about my little “Baby Elf” and each week he stayed in was a milestone because there was a worry he was going to arrive super early, like at one point it would’ve not been viable for him to survive.
But we hit those milestones, 24 weeks, 28 weeks, 32 weeks was a big relief (I could deliver in Toowoomba now, before that would mean a big stay down in Brisbane) 36 weeks and then 38 weeks rolled around…
So due to the concern of “Baby Elf” arriving early, I had undergone 2 rounds of steroid injections to ensure his respiratory system was developed.
For a few months I had been managing my health with medication and just keeping myself “stable” with the bare minimum amount of drugs so it was safe for “Baby Elf” and I. But around 38.5 weeks I started to get sick again, I felt ok but I knew how I feel after being sick for a week or so. It’s not good, heck if I get sick now, after just a few days I’m very weak and drained – add on being pregnant, delivering a baby, recovery & then going straight into life with 2 kids… It wouldn’t have been ideal. So we spoke to my OB & specialist who both agreed that it was in everyone’s best interest if “Baby Elf’ was to arrive a few days early. That way I had strength for birth and recovery.
He was due on the 20th of December, but we opted for an induction and assumed he would arrive the 14th or 15th of December.
During my pregnancy there were concerns if I would be strong enough to handle to a natural birth again, but I was pretty determined to give it ago. I never have much of a birth plan besides get the baby out in a way that will hurt the least! HA! Basically my only request is, give me the darn epidural when I ask for it!

So the 13th of December, we spent the last day as a tiny family of 3 by just being together, we went for a swim, we cuddled and we just cherished these last few moments. Before I left for the hospital that night (induction check in is 7pm) Trent made me Vegemite and cheese on toast, I ate this the night before I went into labour with LuLu.
Trent and LuLu drove me to the hospital and checked me in and letting them leave was the hardest thing, I cried – a lot. Birth is a big deal, things go wrong in birth, I was terrified – I had to start the process alone and that little girl was my whole world. It had been just her and I every single day together for the past 1153 days. And now it was all about to change. I cried because the next time I saw her she wouldn’t be my only baby, she would be my first baby and a big sister. They were happy tears, but scared tears. I had dealt with having to say good bye to them both a lot while they left me in hospital far more than I would’ve liked that year, and I wish Trent could have stayed – but I knew LuLu needed him more.
The plan with the induction is to have the gel inserted around midnight (explains the 7pm check in) well, turns out that night just had to be super busy and mine didn’t get inserted until 3am and then after that is regular obs checks. So I’ve had maybe a couple hours of very broken sleep at this point. I had been awake from 7am Tuesday morning (the 13th) I was partly running on adrenaline and partly just wanting a nap… So by 6am I had my makeup done and I was ready to meet our son.
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The plan here was to see how the induction would go and labour on my own, when things started to spark up Trent was going to come back. I wanted him to stay with LuLu for as long as he could, my best friend was organised to arrive to take over looking after her for that day & that night. (We weren’t sure if the induction would work or how it would progress, some inductions take more than a day and some don’t work…) 
My OB arrived around 8:50am to check me, he reinserted the gel and also did a stretch and sweep (holy, ouch!) and that my friends is when my body got a little angry at me. My contractions felt like they were amping up, prior to this I had some basic niggles and discomfort but nothing that would make me stop and take a big breath. But after that point, boy did I have to stop and breath A LOT. After they insert the gel they have to monitor you on the CTG machine for about 1/2 an hour (I think) and laying in the bed is the most uncomfortable thing when you are having contractions. So once that was done I was up and walking the halls, walking around my room and then I got in a hot shower. I felt better when I was moving… I am pretty sure there was a phone call made to Trent around this point that may have been a little emotional because of how much pain I was in.
When I had left the labour ward room where I was on the CTG machine, the nurse told me to monitor my contractions and come back in around 1/2 an hour and tell her how many I was averaging in a 10 minute period. I got back and told her around 8-10 in 10 minutes. I am pretty sure she thought I was an idiot because she said “ah, no sweetie if you were having that many you would be screaming” – so she attached the monitor and sure enough 9 contractions in 10 minutes.
So they decided I needed an injection to calm that all down. Thankfully that worked.
Trent arrived just after that and it was just before lunch time and I was still labouring away with some pretty painful contractions. When he arrived I was due to be released from the CTG machine (woo hoo!) so I went for a walk with him to the cafeteria so he could eat some lunch. And he got so many bad looks from all the women eating their food, because here he was enjoying his meal while his very pregnant & clearly in labour wife waddled/paced around the table like a circling shark breathing like a crazy lady. I didn’t mind, walking was helping me feel better but to an outsider it probably looked liked he was some nasty husband who valued his appetite more than my comfort! It made us laugh a lot!
After Trent was full, I waddled back to my room for a shower. Hot water on my lower back was making me feel a lot better.
My sister arrived at this point, she is a midwife at this hospital so it was nice to have her there. She was able to explain things to me if I didn’t understand and also made sure everything that was happening was in my best interest.
Then it was time to head back around to the CTG machine to check how I was going. When we got there we were told to head on around to the delivery room, because it was time to get that delightful needle in my spine and then my waters would be broken.
I had spoken to my doctor during my pregnancy that I would want an epidural fairly early on. So he had kindly organised it before rupturing my waters. He was worried that once the waters were broken everything may intensify rather quickly and cause me a lot of pain. So I was very grateful that he knew I would prefer the epidural first…
Trent, Nikki and I headed into the labour ward, I put the gown on and we met my anaesthetist.
Funny story; while I was getting the epidural, the doctors phone rang and he asked Trent to answer it – they thought Trent was the anaesthetist. And Trent had to basically be the middle man between the operating theatre and the anaesthetist. We all had a laugh about it.
My water was broken around 2:30pm and synto was started to kick those contractions up a notch.
I was checked around 4:30pm and they said not much was happening and assumed I wouldn’t deliver until the following morning… I was super exhausted at this point and just wanted to sleep, so Nikki decided to head on home around 5pm.

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A little while after she left my best friend Kelsie came up to visit with LuLu, it was lovely to see them both. I got one last snuggle of my baby and she headed on off to home to have a sleep over with her little best friend. My mind was fully at ease knowing she was being so well cared for by someone I trust so much.
Around 7:45pm my OB came to check on me, we were not expecting anything to have progressed as the midwives kept saying that my contractions didn’t seem very consistent or strong… So we were very surprised when he looked down and exclaimed “Oh WOW I can see the baby, he’ll be here very soon”! He said he would give him a little time and come back in hour.
So after that I naturally touched up my makeup! (haha) but then I got super tired, I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. And then I got nauseous and had to throw up and I couldn’t stop even with medication. I knew what was about to happen, the same thing happened just before I had Lucy.
The midwives checked and then quickly called for the doctor, who came in had a look and was absolutely blown away at how fast he had come down, he was scrambling to tuck his tie in and get gowned up. My vomiting was bringing the baby down very quickly.
I needed an episiotomy and the vacuum was used, but the birth was calm and silent and just how I hoped. Before we knew it he was here.
Tommy was born at 8:44pm on 14th of December 2016.
He was (still is) a tiny little man, weighing only 6pound 9.5ounces/3000grams. He was born with dark hair and was covered in fur. He was/is exactly how I dreamt my son would be.

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But his arrival was a little frightening. He came out with the cord very firmly around his neck and it was a short cord, he was very blue looking. He ended up needing to spend some time on the resus table. I have never felt so helpless or scared. I had just been through months of fearing for the wellbeing of this precious little baby because of my stupid body and the moment he should be in my arms he was metres from me being worked on. But thankfully my prayers were heard because not much later he was in my arms and snuggled in. (He was fine, but in the moment I was petrified, I have a video of the moment he is taken from he and my hands are shaking terribly.)
After getting stitches, baby being monitored, allowing myself to feel a bit better, trying to eat and having a shower – it was very late. So it was around midnight once I finally got back to my room on the ward. I was wrecked!
We made the decision that no one besides Nikki and Kelsie would be told he was here as there was a very important little lady that needed to meet her baby brother first before the rest of our world knew about him.
Trent returned home after midnight and I tried to get some sleep.
He came back up with Lucy the following morning and our girl was head over heels in love with her baby Tommy. As were we, he is so amazing.
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We then sent a group text out to every relative & friend that was dear to us. Nearly everyone responded wishing us well, except 2 people and a year on they are still yet to meet our son. A decision they’ve made.
We are so thankful to our amazing God for our precious son, he is the most sweetest little man and an absolute little charmer. Everyone who meets him can’t help but smile, he is an absolute sweetheart and my heart feels like it’s about to burst constantly because this boy, he just loves his Mumma! He is very small, but he is so determined and strong. He is so close to walking, he has started to talk and he adores his sister so much! He loves his trucks & cars and enjoys a cuddle.
His favourite foods are greek yoghurt and avocado, blueberries, roast chicken and boobie. (I am so proud to have been able to breastfeed for 1 year! We were worried that I wouldn’t be able to at all because of how sick I was. So it was all a just “see how it goes” scenario. Once again we smashed our milestones… 1 year on and still going strong!)

We are so proud of our little man. He completed us.
Happy Birthday Mr Wigglesworth, you are so very loved darling.

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I will love him unconditionally, And I’ll take the blame , And claim him every time, Yeah, y’all, he’s mine, I thank God, he’s mine. – Rodney Atkins.