This is what my social networking looks like at the moment under the watchful eye of my new time manager.
Oh joy, my fingers are almost fully functional again! I kid you not. The ball that Planika Praslovan’s esteemed staff member claimed I’d stolen from her and hidden in my belly had several funny effects on my body with one of the more intriguing ones being the carpal tunnel syndrome. Meaning that in addition to swollen hands and reduced sensation in fingertips, typing was akin to driving needles through my fingers. If you haven’t heard from me, trust me, it hurt me more than it hurt you.
Like parents like son? Or a supporter of a certain FB group, perhaps? Thank you, DJ Rollo Tomassi
Back to that ball, though. After nine months (right… why doesn’t anyone tell you it’s actually ten (10) months?) of it rolling around in there, seemingly gathering mass and momentum, it decided it’d had enough practice. It banged on the belly door for several days until the watery barrier gave in. Six hours of abuse later (verbal abuse of the medical staff and physical abuse of Mr. P’s arm by yours truly, that is), the ball turned out to be alive and kicking. Rather hairy for a ball by any standards, as well.
The doctors said it was a healthy little baby boy and who am I to quarrel with them? He was so incredibly cute that Mr. P (www.pengovsky.com) and I decided to keep him. Dad (and what a great dad he is turning out to be!) named him Renko and the rest is… well… the loud, busy, enjoyable present.
On a slightly more serious note; I opted for a natural childbirth and don’t feel sorry for a second. All the pain that dragged on and on – due to the oxytocin injected to speed up the process after my water broke in a movie-like fashion back at home – was forgotten instantaneously (and I do mean in an instant!) after the baby was born. Six hours of building up the pain to levels that leave the last hour a blank, followed by me snapping back to it when it went for real and the baby was in position. I could see and hear again and focus on instructions. A couple of pushes and the most adorable creature was laid on my belly. I’m repeating myself, but I can’t get over how all that pain simply disappeared from short-term memory, seemingly pushed years back into the past. Nature dispenses powerful drugs!
I know I’ll get asked this questions so here goes: no, I did not have an episiotomy. And yes, I knew it would hurt and yes, I’d opt for the same type of delivery with minimal pain relief again.
I thank my family, my dear friends and colleagues along with my boss for their support during the rougher periods of my pregnancy. And babičar, a twitting birth attendant who met with me to discuss childbirth and the Ljubljana hospital. I still made some of the mistakes he warned me about, but all in all I fared well. I must not forget to thank the hospital staff who took my abuse with style. And my partner Mr. P for being the better student at the ‘school for parents’ and taking me through the delivery without batting an eye, even when I shared the pain with him in a rather literal manner.
Five days before delivery and seven days after delivery
Throughout my pregnancy I kept up at least a basic workout routine. I ran up until the seventh month, in the end reducing the morning stretches to 5 km and finally walking a few times on that distance as well as soon as I felt I couldn’t breathe properly. When running seemed out of question, I switched to swimming three to four times a week, bringing that up to five times a week all the way until one week before delivery or two days before my calculated due date. I realise a few people thought I was being irresponsible, but I had my doctor’s full support and swimming was the only way I could cope with all the extra fluids retained in my body that were also the cause of my carpal tunnel syndrome. I’ll go ahead and say it. I am positive that it was the moderate exercise that kept me away from medications and machinery and it was the exercise that helped me deliver naturally.
In a time-honoured feline tradition that obliges any upstanding catizen to provide for incompetent yet beloved humans who are well known to be disastrous mousers, Planika Parada a.k.a. #cyberkitty decided in the absence of mice to catch, to place her toys in the new cub’s bed. Other than that, the cats seem completely unphased by the loud little new flatmate. As long as he doesn’t take over the couch, I heard them purr to one another quietly in a conspiratorial tone. Since I’m saying thanks here, I must thank my cats as well (www.planika.us). In the 15 years of breeding Persians I’ve learned much that helped me keep my cool in this pregnancy.
Private and Personal
It seems that since I’m vocal, opinionated and share quite a bit (like that belly pic up there, eh?), people assume that I share my private life in social media. Well guys, I don’t really. Since I didn’t start showing until late, not even my colleagues knew about my pregnancy until I was well into the fifth month. Guess why I was fainting on a daily basis during the Football World Cup. It wasn’t just the super cute Slovenian goalie. This will not turn into a baby blog, Renko will not have a Twitter or Facebook account and though I will undoubtedly share titbits from time to time, our family life is… private.
Don’t let that bottle fool you. This sweetie is breastfed.
Here he is. Renko. My new time manager, our love, our joy. I’m trying my best not to get all mushy on you, so suffice it to say that a smile on this little face erases the world around us, leaving just my baby and me, feeling all warm on the inside.
And somewhere, not too far away, I know my mother is smiling.