Night Terrors, Awake

I was lying in bed last night, thinking about our trip to Aran, and suddenly I thought of Dun Aengus and immediately I saw Linnea running gleefully to the edge of the cliff and over. And over and over. Over and over and over and over, through the air... I didn't see her hit the sea.

It took me some time to get over this. I almost shouted. It was real enough to me that I wanted to jump after her. I have vetoes any trips to the Dun while we're on Aran because I feel sick to the pit of my stomach at the thought.

Logically, I know that this is at least partially the remnants of the PTSD, surfacing because of the book on c-sections I'm reading.

I've never been to Aran and not to the Dun before, I think. But I'm not going this time.

I'm also going to start writing a birth plan soon, to see if that helps me deal with the c-section idea any better. I have my consultation on Tuesday to see about rectocele repair. Hopefully the surgery will be shortly after the holiday is over.

Urgh. I'm grateful for so many unpleasant things, when I think about it.

LJ Haiku

very unwell it
was a relief he soothed
linnea fed her grapes

laugh if you want to
be fairly healthy though i
have worried about

am a militant
breastfeeder recently which
i found surprising

a nightmare scene of
hooliganism thuggery
violence and beery

a fairly adult
conversation the friend left
and we are packing

some of them won't be
able to look at kitchens
there was the smallest

it wasn't actually
there any more like me and rob
she is she joking

know that this is where
i accidentally bought
linnea a spinning

Ways in which I am a bad mother: #n to n+m

Today I put Linnea to sleep in her buggy in front of the television.

Put the phone down! It's not that bad! Don't dial just yet (but the number is 0808 800 5000). She was very, very tired. And running around like a mad thing. She ran all over the house, and all over the garden, lying down and closing her eyes for up to three seconds at a time, before getting up to run around some more. She just didn't want to be awake and still - she wanted to be asleep. So I sat her in front of the TV until "still" was an option, then strapped her safely into the buggy so that she could fall asleep, er, safely.

She's going to meet a lot of strangers in quick succession after her Daddy goes away, this holiday. I hope it's ok. It could be up to 8 adults and four children, all told. I shall just have to hang on to my resolve not to let any of them hold her until she is willing to be held, unlike last time we brought her to Ireland, when I felt under considerable pressure to show her to be a "sociable" baby. She is sociable, mind you. Much more so than I am.

Yesterday she spoke to my mother on the phone. Mum said "Hiya!" and Linnea said "Hiya!" back. All melt.

She brushes her teeth morning and night; we say "Come and brush your teeth," and she leads the way to the bathroom, carries her step to the sink, climbs up on it, and demands a toothbrush. A parent has to be quick on the draw to get her teeth brushed before the toothbrush is wrenched from weak parental grasp by determined baby fingers.

Running naked around the garden cures mild nappy rash and is very cute cute cute cute cute BOOM.