My Herd.

Afternoon peeps.

Really not in the mood for revisiting my hospital trips today, im in enough pain without focusing on it. That'll teach me to try having a bath! I'll get around to sharing the rest of the story soon, just not today.

Ive decided to introduce you to my family instead. Id like to think that its obvious that im using nicknames here.

Husband (aka Captain Cheerful when he's Got A Face On)
Two years my junior, and a complete child. This is a good thing (mostly) as i was born a 90yr old, so we balance each other out. Very handsome, i mean, wow, those eyes make me melt.

He gets his way far too often by using that puppy dog expression. Bastard.
 Has a short temper, and certainly NOT a morning person! Loves cars, racing, basically anything testosterone fuelled and motor related. Snores at roughly the volume of a jack-hammer. Would ideally be allowed to sleep 18 hours a day, and just be waited on the other 6 hours.
 Usually bread winner, but currently stay at home dad/cleaner/chef etc as he is picking up my slack and doing everything i cant do at the moment.

First born - Day dreamer
Ten year old boy with a heart of gold. Kind, helpful and polite. The kind of kid who gets positive comments from the grannies on the bus. Quite quiet, likes to keep himself to himself. Still loves a kiss and a hug from his old Mum.
Way too bossy to his siblings, is quietly confident he knows way more than us, and is rarely available due to being in a world of his own. I feel for him, the poor kid, cos he is my learning curve and the one i make the worst parenting mistakes with. He's a credit to himself really that he is so normal!

Second born - Manic (aka Slightly Odd)
Seven year old boy, who is very smart. Quite a popular kid who makes friends easily, very confident and laid back, adores his siblings but most of all his big brother. Very observant and cheeky.
Can be a bit lazy, cries a bit too easily and is just a little bit odd. He frequently leaves Husband and I looking rather confused at his random comments. Really a very sweet and genuine kid.

Third born - Princess (aka The Whinge)
Five year old girl. First daughter, very scary! Incredibly pretty and she knows it. In true daughter fashion she has Husband wrapped around her little finger. Prone to tantrums. She is very cuddly and tactile and is often found in our bed as of the wee hours of the morning. Can be quite selfish and pretty unwilling to help out (unless there is something in it for her). Sadly she has a weak bladder so to her absolute horror still wets sometimes. Has a very bright future on stage and screen - trust me, this kid is working on an Oscar already!

Fourth born - Gobshite (aka Chickin)
Two year old super-genius daughter. Far too smart for her own good, also has Husband at her beck and call. Has mastered conversation, reverse psychology and getting what she wants. Very cute, and startlingly observant. Hates bedtimes, loves baths and anything water related. Its her life's mission to make every surface in this house either questionably sticky or covered in crumbs.

Last one - Astroboy
Currently 6 weeks old. Breast fed, breast obsessed little cutie. Quite literally never beyond my reach, sleeps on my tummy/snuggled in next to me. Laughs in his sleep and generally melts the hearts of all who meet him. Has inherited Husbands long chimp-like arms and legs so is outgrowing babygrows at a rate of knots! I call him my little bear because he grunts and snorts like a bear, and is also quite hairy.

Me.
The Mum. Currently Parent-in-reserve due to being bed bound (working on changing that). Genuinely believe that every cloud has a silver lining, no matter how small or hard to see. Always try to see the best in people, and a bit naive. Terribly forgetful and very self-judgemental - there is noone harder for me to please than myself, though im pretty easy going when it comes to others. Obviously, i think my kids are the best kids ever, as do most parents, though im not daft enough to think they're perfect (hahahahaha!). Quite a strict Mum, and a bit of a food Nazi (when it comes to the kids, of course it doesnt apply to Mummy).
 Odd sense of humour, i'll laugh at the most inappropriate things cos i get these cartoon images in my head - this gets me in trouble a lot. Love my kids more than anything but refuse to let them be the only focus in my life. Im still a person too!

Just to add, i realise the blocks of text can be a bit boring, im working on adding some pictures.

Thats it for now. Hopefully you'll get to know (and love) us as we go along.

TTFN :D

This will be long...

Argh! So much to say, i dont know really where to start...

Ohhh, im going with an explanation of the blog name and the (long) story behind it.

Other options suggested for the blog were 

Pelvic Thrust
Hip to be Square
SPD and Me 

(Thanks Nickie at http://typecast2000.blogspot.com/ for the suggestions :D )

Sooooo, my pelvis. We aren't on good terms, i have to say. Currently i am on bed rest (and a hefty concoction of pain killers), as i have rather severe SPD (Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction, sometimes called Pelvic Girdle Pain). 

The short explanation is that my pelvis now has the structural integrity of grannys knicker elastic.

For a longer, more precise description see http://www.pelvicinstability.org.uk/index.asp .

I wasn't always a cripple (im allowed to call myself one, in an attempt at humour), i used to be a pretty effective wife and mother. School run, a mile each way? No problem. Sweeping the floor? Already done it. Putting my pants on by myself? Ha! I laugh in the face of underpants! 

All those daily tasks you do on autopilot, getting on with it, i just cant do anymore. I haven't been able to for 6 months. 

It started 12 weeks into my last pregnancy. I noticed an odd feeling in my hips like they were loose in the sockets, which was followed by shooting pains down my thighs. I had suspicions it was SPD as id had similar (but milder) sensations at the end of pregnancy number 4, and the midwife and i had discussed the possibility of a pelvic issue but thankfully Lottie was born soon after.

 I arranged referral to physio. The appointment wasn't a resounding success. I got the time wrong, we were late, this meant i only got seen for ten minutes and i never managed to get another appointment. Still, i listened carefully to what the physio had said and followed these instructions throughout the pregnancy - the correct way to get out of bed, the wearing of an exceptionally attractive support belt, not doing chores which involved swinging the hips (sweeping floor, pushing shopping trolley etc) and so on.

 Despite my efforts the pain i was in got steadily worse and my ability to do, well, pretty much everything, got less and less. By the 36th week of my pregnancy it was all i could do to get out of bed, wash and get downstairs to the sofa. I was in constant pain and could only hobble short distances, standing only for a few minutes at a time. We were offered pain relief but after talking it through declined as the odds of it harming the baby were too high. To my mind if anyone was going to suffer it should be me (the Mum) not the baby.

 I dont regret that decision at all but i think it may have given people a false perspective of just how much pain i was in. On the hyperbole and a half pain scale (http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/02/boyfriend-doesnt-have-ebola-probably.html ) i probably looked a three, but i felt about a six.

Forward on to 27th September (week 37 of pregnancy). The girls have woken early and seem to have misplaced their concept of volume control. So, being the lovely, giving, kind-hearted wife and mother (and cursed light sleeper) that i am, i decide i will take the girls downstairs, put the tv on and doze til its time for everyone to get up. Also, then Husband will totally owe me and i can have a nap in the afternoon.

 So, i turn over (ouch), swing my feet down as i push my self up (urgh) and finally get upright (yay me!). Then i make the tragic mistake of trying to stand. As i slowly raise myself off the bed i hear a stomach-churning 'CRACK' come from the front of my pelvis, and all manner of pain is set free. I promptly collapse on the end of the bed, unable to move, and begin to sob (pain scale rating 7-8). Husband, in his sleep coma, reaches over and pats my head a little before resuming sleep. It takes several more minutes of me snotting on the duvet for him to realise this is possibly more than an attack of the hormones. This is the conversation which followed:

Husband - Are you all right?

Me - No!

H - Oh, well, what do you want me to do, call an ambulance?

Me- Yes!

 Bless Husband, ive never seen him spring from bed (his favourite place in the whole world) so fast, and duly he called the Ambulance.

*In Husbands defence, i usually require being left alone if i feel upset, until i get a handle on myself, and genuinely have an aversion to making a fuss and being the centre of attention, so it wasn't *technically* spousal neglect to leave me crying, but only a sleep-loving mans attempt at appeasing the rotund mess of hormone vaguely resembling his wife.

Next instalment - getting to hospital, hospital and 'its a baybeeee'.

First Post!

Hello! Its lovely to meet you, thanks for popping in.
I'll start by telling you a little about myself - im 28, married and i have 5 children.
Yes, 5!

All i ever wanted was to be a Mum, and to have a big family. I know i am very fortunate to say i got my wish.

It certainly hasn't been without a price though and that is what has prompted me to start this blog, my fifth (and final) pregnancy has physically cost me a great deal and i needed somewhere to offload, vent and explore my thoughts - somewhere to play out all the crap in my head really. It wont be doom and gloom forever, i promise - i do get tired of hearing myself complain so you wont be leaving here after each new post with your will to live in tatters on the floor (at least, i hope not!).

So there you are, best i can do at this hour. Here is hoping the spirit of eloquence and interestingness (i reserve the right to invent words as i see fit) visit during the night!