Now we play telephone

My firstborn now has a phone. She's had a whole bunch of firsts lately and the phone is mostly for my paranoia's sake to make sure she can stay safe in all her activities. Let's see, what new things is she up to or will be soon?

• She got her first Young Person's Travelcard. Which means she can now take all the busses she wants to. Alone. She has to pay for the tube so at least I know she'll not be going off to random places. Intentionally. She's not a got a good sense of direction and I worry she'll end up in Morden on her way to some afterschool club.
• She's starting secondary school next week. It's a bit of an awkward trek. I'm pretty sure she can manage it without a phone. Which is good because the school does 't allow phones at all in the building at all. Whatsoever. A Policy I find quite antediluvian. but then again, they have a dress code, which I find mad as well. but that's a post for another time.
• She's got after school activities she'll be going to on her own. I've been going with her to some for years, and still she can't recall which bus we take and which stop to get off at.
• she's been going over to friends houses a bunch. Not that I don't trust her to walk a well known route that's like 10 minutes by foot. It's more we want to be able to remind her to pick up stuff on the way home, or her to have a way to get in touch when she somehow turns the 10 min walk into 40 min by getting on the wrong bus or something.
• We did make a set of house keys for her, but we didn't them to her yet. Mostly because she's never home when we are not, so the only point would be if we're too lazy to walk to the door to let her in. but I also worry about her losing the keys, as changing locks is such a huge pain.

So I got her a S30 Nokia. It's almost completely unchanged from the 90s. The only difference is it's in colour and the speaker can make more sounds. But otherwise it's the exact same terrible UI which made the iPhone such a success. It takes a "mini" size SIM (you know, the biggest possible SIM you can find) which I didn't think anyone used anymore. But it is a lovely shade of blue, which I like.

It doesn't even have internet – something I feel kind of guilty about. Partly because I'm paying for a few GB of data, which she'll not be able to use. And partly because she's missing out on things like bus schedules and maps. I feel zero guilt about no whatsapp, though.

I also feel guilty about making her have to use T9 to write text messages. I hated that back in the day, and switched to stylus/touchscreen/mini-qwerty phones as soon as I possibly could. But this thing doesn't even have Bluetooth. So she's now learning how to associate letters with the number buttons. Like she's a millennial or something.

In the end, this phone is an experiment. It's to see if she can keep it without losing or breaking it. I mean, it's a Nokia, so breaking it will be a challenge. Losing, I really don't know. I do know her track record of keeping pairs of gloves as a pair is bad enough we stopped buying her gloves. I have told her that if she does manage to not lose it and keep it one piece for long enough we can upgrade to something more 21^st century.

New clothes

We have quite a few hand-me-downs we've gotten from various people over the past few months. Today we organised the baby clothes, separating everything by size. This time remembering that they get big pretty quickly and that 9-12 month pile is going to get used sooner than we'd think, and to make sure we remember where we put it.

It's starting to really home that there will actually be a baby soon. We've only a few weeks left. I kind of miss last time when I was so paranoid I spent the whole time reading up on everything and making sure we are prepared. This time, well, I remember what I read last time, and I'm pretty sure I recall what we need. Nappies. A birth plan. A bed. A changing table. Something to carry the child around in. Something to carry the stuff around in. some kind of pump/bottle/steriliser situation. And a hefty supply of panic attacks that I can pick up and use when I realise I've forgotten something rather critical.

On a similar note, I've been continuing the pre-midwife cleanup to get at least my bedroom tidy and ready. Or at least pretend there is an away for everything in the room. I even cleaned under the bed. It's a pretty high up bed, so we store boxes under it. Somehow, after cleaning, there was more storage space than there was before. This is just encouraging me to do more cleaning.

I found a bag of my clothes I put away. I recall one t-shirt and one pair of trousers I hated enough to put away, but not throw out, but I've no idea why I stashed away the rest. It's all reasonable stuff that seems to fit. I worry that if I try to wear any of it, it'll turn out to have a hole in an awkward or embarrassing place that only reveals itself when I'm far from the house and have no backup.

The other downside of the big clean, is I've vacuumed up so much dust into the air, I've been constantly sneezing with a sore throat for days whenever I'm in the house. With luck that will settle down soon.

Birth story, part 5 (final)

5 weeks later and we're… doing as well as can be expected. She's at the point where she hates being held while I type. So it's really hard to do updates. So I'll take this moment of quiet to finish off the birth story.

All told, the birth went off quite well. No real complaints from me – only minor ones. I really liked the fact that our midwife, after it was all said and done, told us how much she appreciated and was just plain honoured being there at this very special moment. I found that to be be rather sweet and made up for any of the minor grievances I had. And I really appreciated it, since she got to find out the child's name before anyone, including her grandparents. The staff were certainly good at what they did, and I've no complaints about their skills. The only real issue I had was them not understanding/believing when we told them it's likely to be a quick birth. Given how rare that is, I'm not too surprised.

The birth plan

I'll end this chapter with a record of what we'd planned and what actually happened. Just an aside, this is my first time re-reading the plan after the birth.

Turns out, anything that actually followed the birth plan was more coincidence than actual design. I don't the midwives think ever actually read the plan, but I don't really blame them too much, since I'd much rather they did the really essential bits of ensuring the baby came out properly than memorising our wishes – which they could (and sometimes did) ask us about at any point.

First off, we'd planned for a mutual friend and experienced mother to join us at the birthing centre to make sure everything went smoothly and to keep us company during a prolonged birth. The tag-team concept came from experience with tattooing. It seems to help distract the tattooee to just have conversation they can drift in and out of, rather than involve them directly. A friend and I did this with L's last tattoo, and I did that a couple of weeks before the birth with another friend. I figured, long continuous pain is long continuous pain – how different can a tattoo be from labour?
Well, the baby was born the one weekend our tag-teaming friend couldn't make it – she was camping out of mobile reception. So all plans involving extra support were out the window. But, then again, the birth can hardly be considered prolonged, so the help was thankfully not needed.
Outcome: inconsequential fail.

Please knock on door before entering — I have't the faintest idea of they did or not. I don't recall ever being surprised at someone walking in.
Outcome: incidental win.

In case of unexpected problems calm and full information with time to make choices — the only thing unexpected was L started crowning while the midwife was out of the room. It was more us not providing them time to think.
Outcome: win by circumstance.

Pain relief of TENS, breathing, massage, birth pool, gas and air — All except the birth pool, which means we hit that on the head. That said, there was no time at all to get any stronger pain relief if even if we wanted it.
Outcome: accidental win.

Call hospital in advance, request birthing pool — No answer when we tried calling before coming in. They finally understood we wanted the birthing pool maybe 5 min before the birth started.
Outcome: full on fail.

Notify immediate family on way in — oops. We did tell the in-laws after the water broke at least. Perhaps I should have read the birth plan while in the waiting room.
Outcome: fail.

Lighting as low as possible — I don't think the room even had a dimmer.
Outcome: hardware fail.

Music system set up — no iPod doc as expected. Turns out there was an unused one in room 2, where we'd spent 5 minutes after we came in.
Outcome: facilities fail

stay as mobile as possible — she ended up giving birth lying down.
Outcome: failure of possibilities.

Offer father to feel head as crowning — Oops. I forgot we'd planned that. Well, I've cuddled her head enough since then, so I don't see any loss only behalf. L got to feel the crowing head though. I was too busy finding and hitting the Call button.
Outcome: fail.

Foetal monitoring without lying down — nope. The last monitoring of the baby was why L was lying down for the birth – she was unable to get up after that.
Outcome: fail.

Keep vaginal exams to a minimum — Just the one (the can't find your cervix one), so that at least was followed.
Outcome: win.

cord not cut till done pulsing — I'm pretty sure it was pulsing a little, but I've no real basis for comparison,
Outcome: probably fail.

Father to catch baby — forgot about that one too. Oops. I was too busy staring in astonishment. I can't believe I thought I'd be on the ball enough to manage this. I'm glad I didn't – the midwife was very good about the catch-and-put-on-chest motion.
Outcome: fail.

skin to skin immediately after birth — got that one spot on
Outcome: important win.

no wiping or cleaning off of vernix — nope. We'd read shortly before the birth that a study showed that leaving the vernix on means the baby is less likely to suffer dry/peeling skin shortly after birth. turns out the only parts where the vernix wasn't removed, the hands and feet, are the only ones that ever really peeled. No idea if it's a coincidence or not.
Outcome: fail?

no interruption of contact — yup. they were very good about leaving her with us non stop till we left. She was out of our hands for a few seconds while being weighed. Then for a bit while she slept overnight (a few inches from my hand). And once more when the doctor was checking her out.
Outcome: win.

…intervention… — nothing to intervene.
Outcome: win.

placenta to come out naturally, no pulling — "plop" it fell right out. No special convincing needed.
Outcome: win.

Oral only vitamin K — they did try to use scare tactics to get us to take the injections. But it's such a tiny chance of needing it, and generally only if there is a traumatic birth or bruising. So we at least stuck to our guns on this one. I'm still dubious it's needed at all. Regardless, we finished the last oral round a few days ago, and she's still alive.
Outcome: win.

No observing students — I suppose they were all in the labour ward, which was completely full that day.
Outcome: win.

…induction… — she came out nicely on her own. No inducements necessary.
Outcome: win.

avoid formula — she managed to latch on during the first night, so no need to provide other food.
Outcome: win.

All in all, it seems there are more wins than fails. Though most are more wins due to the complete lack of complications to sort out. As I was told, a birth plan just gives the midwives something to ignore. The most important thing is we gave things some though in advance, and that nothing in the birth process came as a shock to us. Well, except (ironically) the startle reflex...

Sunday, 31 July. Most of that morning was spent doing incidentals like holding the girl and taking pictures and sending SMSs and announcements online. And drifting and and out of sleep. My plan of taking chilled coffee and storing in the fridge proved to be a brilliant idea – ice coffee kept me on the ball nicely and let L recover a bit while I watched the girl.

We got though a couple of nappy changes (chocolate-coloured meconium is surprisingly innocuous looking, though rather hard to wipe off), and puzzling at the right level of clothes that would keep her warm, but not too warm. We settled on a onesie and swaddling blanket. Eventually they told us all that was left was the paediatrician and then we could go. So we packed our stuff, readied the girl and waited. Like four hours. Which we spent taking photos, sending more SMSs, and arranging with my in-laws for take-away dinner at the flat.

Apparently the paediatrician saw everyone on the very full labour ward before seeing the two people in the birthing centre. At just before 6 the midwife took us to see the paediatrician. She asked is there anything which concerns you? – something I wasn't quite ready for, or I'd have made notes. She did a bunch of tests. She even checked to make sure the left eye (which I was curious if it was alright) was responding to light ok. Then she did the startle test, which involved her dropping the lass a tiny bit (over the cot) and catching her to make sure she reflexively stuck out her arms – which she did perfectly. The paediatrician told us she was the first infant that day to not cry at this – which made us quite proud of our wonderful child already outdoing her peers.

That and the startle reflex is really neat to look at. I still really have to stop myself from trying it. I'm sure that would be a great way to make the kid hate me.

After the paediatrician, the midwife handed us a shedload of pamphlets and paperwork, including the red book, which is the born-baby equivalent to the pregnancy notes they kept (we made a photocopy of them in advance since we knew they'd not let us leave with them).

L wrapped up the girl in a sling for the trip home. The midwife, in a bit of security theatre, then walked us out of the building, telling us security'd stop anyone with a newborn who wasn't accompanied by a midwife (which I doubt, but I appreciate the chat and company on the way out).

The walk from the exit to the taxi rank on Tottenham Court Road was the longest it had ever been. Such precious cargo, and every step a sort-of first for us, and certainly a first for her. L waited outside the Sainbury's while I looked for an available taxi to hail. A few minutes later we were on the way home. The driver dropped us off and congratulated us on the newborn, which made us both smile.

We arrived back at home at 6:45ish. Fifteen minutes later, we had barely just enough time to settle in before the in-laws showed up with chinese take-away. And thus began the wonderful madness of living with our baby girl.

So very different

I was talking to my parents over Skype a bit ago and my father mentioned that things have changed since they were new parents. I agreed and pointed out that we were chatting overseas over video for free. Since then I've been thinking about all the ways things are so very different now.

Birth philosophy has changed, making it far closer now to how it was in the grandparents' time. Except there's far more washing of hands. For a while everything was clinical with mothers giving birth on heavy drugs on their backs and feeding the kids of this highly artificial but easy to store cow's milk product. Now we know on your back is probably the worst way. The coccyx just blocks the whole exit making things much harder. Birth positions are quite varied – under water, on a bouncy ball, leaning against the wall, etc etc. Drugs are still strong, but much more targeted to avoid affecting the offspring. Breast feeding is still a bit awkward in the UK, with about 20% of children still getting breast milk after 6 months – but at least medicalness and legislation is trying to make it easier.

Nappies. As far as I can tell, there are like 30,000 alternatives for nappies. At least we've got velcro now, and don't have to deal with pins.

Information is soooo much easier to come by. The wife posted a comment about how the baby seems to have engaged, and she got lots of replies saying things like my baby dropped 2 weeks before I gave birth and other really useful things. It's like having the joint experience of all your friends and relatives, and a few strangers on tap. I can hardly imagine how hard it must have been just not knowing and not knowing you didn't know.

We've known the sex of the child for about 26 weeks now. It makes picking names much easier. And we've already got a bunch of clothes. Not that getting unisex clothes would have been so hard – I have no idea what people used to do. Just do the bulk of the shopping after the birth?

I don't know what they did in my parents' day when it came to exposing children to music. Especially while they're still in the womb. Put on record after record? Put on the radio and hope for something good? The wife and I put together a playlist of 3200 songs combining our favourite appropriate contemporary music and a huge chunk of classical music. We just hit play and let it go until we need to turn it off. The other day work gave me an iPod nano as a baby shower present. Quite nice of them – I really appreciate it. I've whittled the playlist down to the 2500 songs that fit on it. We can now play it all day at a fraction of the power consumption of the PC we used to use. Plus UCLH apparently has iPod docks, so we we can have music for the birth without needing to being a laptop (no wifi, what's the point?).

Some months ago I made a list of things cultural things I wanted to export the kid to. A fair chunk of that was meant for when she's older and can read herself or watch TV, but one thing I really want to do is use Skype video and get her grandparents to read to her. I really want her to get to know them, and them living on another continent would otherwise make it hard. But as long as they're comfortable reading to a small camera… I just have to figure out where to position the camera so it looks like they're making eye-contact.

How we got here

So for the past several years, the wife and I have been discussing the theoretical child. Not everything, but alot. The point was not to plan out the kid's life, but a whole bunch of what-ifs. The birth, raising, schooling, citizenship – all kinds of things, even whose body parts and traits it would be better off having. If we could answer them and come to an agreement then we knew we were closer to being ready.

We're control freaks. Both of us. Everything needs to be planned out. It's just the way we are. It seems to be working out for us so far.

We didn't talk about it with friends or family. Talking about it would make it too real. We felt that telling people would make it more concrete and force ourselves down that path whether it be a good idea or not. Or the opposite – sometimes discussing your plans means you're less likely to actually do them. We had to be really ready and really be sure we were doing this for the right reasons. So, to cope, it had to be our little secret.

We decided on names literally years ago. One name for a girl and one for a boy. Of course we won't tell anyone until she's born. Somehow we feel if we did it would make it less "us" and ruin the name. We may be control freaks, but we're not always rational.

A couple of years ago we decided on a code name for the kid. The wife did not want to use any of the standards - bean, alien, bump, bambino, etc. She suggested Willow. This was long before we even started trying to conceive. We needed it so we say things like Which room will be Willow's in the new flat? without feeling like we were committing ourselves to breeding. The name is based on an offhand comment my step-cousin-in-law made to the wife at the wedding, making a joke on my surname, Rosenberg.

We bought a flat almost a year ago after searching for a very long time. We'd always "known" that this would be the place where we'd have a baby. That thought went into our evaluation of every place we saw. In the worst case, we'd just end up with extra space if we chose not to breed. It did end up with us having to come up with lots of on-the-spot rationalised avoidance of questions when people'd ask Why do you need 3 bedrooms? or Stoke Newington? Is she pregnant?

We didn't decide for sure to sprog until last year. The wife had a completely irrational pregnancy scare. There were no real signs, and the maths didn't work out. There was no way she could be pregnant – but she got in her head anyway that she was. So, being the rational/irrational creature she is, she sat down and figured out how we'd handle it. She came to the conclusion that we could handle it, and it wasn't such a bad thing after all. A month later we started trying.

It's a year later now, and we're just over two weeks from the due date. Willow could come at any moment. We have, I think, everything we need. It's just not organised enough – it's all in piles on whatever random flat surfaces we can find. Plus our home is still in a state, with curtains needing to be put up and furniture moved to at least the right room. And the bag. We need to pack the bag. And by the bag, I probably mean 2 or 3 the bags with just-in-every-possible-case stuff for all of us. In the meanwhile, all parts of our lives are coming to a mad peak. All we need to do is get past it and ride the waves down into whatever familihood awaits us.

So much stuff

I think we've got enough baby clothes to last us at least until six months, if not a year or more. We spent today visiting a couple with an 18-month-old. They were getting rid of a bunch of her old clothes.

We came out of there with about 20 kilos of clothes, mostly succeeding in avoiding things pink. The wife thinks pink is vastly overused in girl clothes and is trying to get tasteful things in other colours. Not very easy. For the record, I agree with her, but I'm red/green colourblind, so I hardly notice pink at all, and generally see it as grey or white. The wife is jealous of me.

I managed to teach their child how to shake hands. Well – more appropriately, she learned how to shake hands, because she did all the effort. When we left, I said goodbye and shook her little hand. She then turned to the wife and thrust out her hand for the wife to shake, which she dutifully did. All quite cute, but made moreso by the mother telling me she'd never done that before. Another point for me for teaching a child to do things with their hands.

So we're not set, but were also not screwed if the baby comes early. There's still a lot we don't have – nappies coming foremost to mind. Bottles, dummies, nappy pails, a steriliser... I'm sure there's loads I can add to the list. I should actually make a list. But first I think I'll pack a bag of a couple of days of infant-sized clothes and things to take to hospital with us.

Actually, first I should move all our furniture around so we can redo all the floors in the bedrooms. Then I should pack to go to Berlin.