I’m sleep deprived – have I mentioned that? I’m incredibly sleep deprived and, though we think the baby’s getting back on track now, there’s no sign that’s going to end. So I’m sleep deprived to the point of complete inarticulate-ness (you see? That’s not even a word… I know it, but I can’t think through the fog for long enough to do anything about it) But anyway, despite all that, I’m happy.
Thank you all so, SO much for the advice in my last post. It turns out, you were right. The GP and gastroenterologist say she has reflux. The midwives, health visitor and breastfeeding councillor meanwhile, say it’s posterior tongue tie. Both camps are completely dismissive of each others’ diagnoses but at least we have some leads. We’ll get to the bottom of it now, in large part thanks to your suggestions. And, almost as importantly, reading your advice made me feel like we had people on our side to fall back on.
That got me thinking (as much as I’m capable of, at least, at the moment…) I’ve said it before but it’s never felt truer: the biggest thing this year has taught us is just how important community is, and how far we’d lost sight of that. Whether it’s been people we’ve met in our local postcode through trading toys and clothes, or the people I’ve met online through the blogging community – the more people we’ve made connections with, the less stuff we seem to have needed.
Johnny’s activity classes and soft play sessions gradually seemed pointless as we made friends with local families and a trip to the scruffy playground at the end of our road was suddenly filled with friends and imaginative play that is far more inventive and rich than anything we paid for before.
I’m so happy for him. I want him to learn that friends, family and community are far surer guarantees of happiness than any amount of stuff. But it hasn’t just been a lesson for him. As I’ve made friends with these kids’ parents and with lots of you lot too, I’ve found the allure of ‘stuff’ has lost some of its magnetic appeal too. I have fewer of those days when a bit of retail therapy seems just what I need. Sure, I still appreciate the beauty of the perfect pair of ankle boots, but it’s less urgent. I may want them, but I don’t need them.
I hope that’s what Johnny might take away from this year too. So yeah, at the risk of coming across all ‘Gwynnie at the Oscars’, thanks. I know it’s not over yet but it’s been emotional.
And here’s a song I’ve been playing to the baby: