• 1/52

    A portrait of my son, once a week, every week for one year Ethan you are 9 weeks and one day old today. Yesterday you got in the bath for a dunk, your first dunk with me. After a major Poonami incident, peeing all over your Dad and vomiting all over me. Baby wipes just(…)

  • our first home movie

    Want to see my face move? Weird, isn’t it?… When you read a blog and all of a sudden a video is posted that puts a moving face, mannerisms and (sometimes) a voice to the person you’re so used to seeing static on a page in form of words? I find it strange/intriguing. Well last(…)

  • too much stuff

      I recently took a complete sh*t-fit and decided that I hated every piece of clothing that I own. Then I realised I was being a tad dramatic and that I merely could not see the things I like to wear through all of the clothes that  hang in my wardrobe untouched, except maybe times(…)

  • what to wear in labour

    I don’t know about you lot… But when considering being in labour I’m thinking PAIN. Pain pain pain. That’s what everyone tells you. And just like a good old hangover or that time of the month, if I know I’m going to be uncomfortable / in pain, I like to get as cosy and comfy(…)

  • our birth story: part 2 *warning, graphic imagery*

    It took a good half an hour for the contractions to begin. I laboured through them for 4 hours, bouncing on the birthing ball (cannot recommend those things enough), leaning on Gavin and standing swaying through most of it. Sitting down or lying down was NOT an option. And it’s true, no one can really(…)

  • our birth story: part 1

    One of the things I loved most during the later stages of my pregnancy was reading a good birth story. In my head, I was all about positive thinking and a positive outlook towards the little dudes impending arrival. I had a very clear outline in my head of how I would like the birth(…)

  • the world has changed

    Ladies and gentlemen. Please welcome to the world, our incredible son Ethan Cadhan Liddell. Born Sunday 9th February at 3:13am, weighing in at 8lb 5oz. It’s taken me so long to introduce him because we seem to be in this impenetrable love bubble that prevents me from replying to any correspondence, cooking food or pretty(…)

1/52

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week for one year

Ethan you are 9 weeks and one day old today. Yesterday you got in the bath for a dunk, your first dunk with me. After a major Poonami incident, peeing all over your Dad and vomiting all over me. Baby wipes just weren’t going to cut it my friend.

THINGS ROCKING YOUR WORLD

1. When I sing-song “Good morning Ethan!” to you when you wake. It cracks you up.
2. Captain Calamari, a great toy gifted to you by your big cousin Sarah. You love to swipe at him, but kind of freak out when he rattles.
3. Sleeping on the couch with Dad at the weekends.
4. The hairdryer. Dad & I have taken to drying your hair and body with it after a bath and you LOVE it.

THINGS NOT CUTTING THE MUSTARD

1. Having your feet dunked in the Ocean… You did not like that one bit.
2. Sleeping in your basket during the day. You’d much rather sleep on boobs, of course, so I’m getting really good at typing one handed.
3. Infants Friend, you make the funniest sour-face when we give that to you, but I know you thank us really with every bum burp you do.

I love you, my boy, always always always.

Joining in Jodi’s 52 Project at our own pace.

Love and Lush bath bombs,

Naomi

xoxo

our first home movie

Want to see my face move? Weird, isn’t it?… When you read a blog and all of a sudden a video is posted that puts a moving face, mannerisms and (sometimes) a voice to the person you’re so used to seeing static on a page in form of words? I find it strange/intriguing.

Well last year, just before I fell pregnant, Gavin and I decided randomly to create a little “Day in the Life of” movie. It was just a random day we had off together and although it wasn’t intended to be anything other than an experiment for us, I’ve actually loved the outcome so much that I thought I’d share it with you.

We fully intend to do one ‘Post Baby’ too. It’ll be interesting (read: hilarious) to see the change in our day now that Ethan’s in the picture. Kinda makes me wish we had filmed the pregnancy like this too.
How great would that have been? *Sigh*.

Love and moving pictures,

Naomi

xoxo

too much stuff

IMG_3441

 
I recently took a complete sh*t-fit and decided that I hated every piece of clothing that I own. Then I realised I was being a tad dramatic and that I merely could not see the things I like to wear through all of the clothes that  hang in my wardrobe untouched, except maybe times of desperation and/or delusion that something will all of a sudden magically fit/suit me.

So after swanning around on my favourite hardcore wardrobe culling blog, Into Mind I decided that I needed rid of the clutter. I realised that by removing all of the things that I don’t like (about 2/3′s) that I would be left with only things that I do like (a meagre 1/3). The surprising result? I now feel not only that smug sense of satisfaction of a good cull, but I actually feel like I have more to wear. Getting dressed is a breeze in the morning when you want to wear everything in your wardrobe.

Now I know you may be reading this and not quite absorbing the freedom a lighter, leaner selection of clothes will give you. It took me a while to get my head around my quantity over quality mentality of wanting to own ALL THE THINGS. But I must say… It’s addictive.

I have now crammed my to-do list with organising and culling projects left, right and centre. Bathroom cabinets, underwear drawer, pantry, medicine cupboard etc. I am feeling a serious need to cut right the way down on all of the crap lip glosses I own, the 3 year old eye cream samples and the pants that have elastic hanging off of them that looks like hair.

I mean seriously, why do I hold onto those things? I do not need a soap bar from every hotel I frequented in Thailand. I don’t even use f*cking soap.

Anyways, all of this is born of a need to simplify. Simplify everything. Wardrobe, finances, grocery shopping, cleaning etc. I’m reviewing all of my possessions and processes with the cut throat criticism of a full on minimalist. It’s incredibly satisfying.

I could talk more on here about some things like how we organise things in the Liddell household. So maybe we can take a peek into our world of meal planning and me ripping all of my cupboards out like a crazy woman. Would you like to see that? I love a good nosey into how other people run their lives, pack their fridges and stuff their handbags. Maybe you do too.

How do you feel about a good cull?
Have you ever done a drastic clear out?

Love and a label maker,

Naomi

xoxo

 

 

what to wear in labour

IMG_3291

I don’t know about you lot… But when considering being in labour I’m thinking PAIN. Pain pain pain. That’s what everyone tells you. And just like a good old hangover or that time of the month, if I know I’m going to be uncomfortable / in pain, I like to get as cosy and comfy as possible. It usually involves yoga pants, fluffy socks and a loose tee, but considering labour requires a lot of… ahem… access to various areas of your body I figured my go-to uniform for comfort during hard times was not going to cut the mustard.

I started looking into what I could possibly wear during labour and was delighted to stumble across a hilariously named and highly practical company called Pretty Pushers. They make 100% cotton gowns with halter neck for breastfeeding / skin to skin access, frontal opening for monitors and a low cut back for epidural access. I was hoping to not need the latter, but I’m so glad I was able to wear something that slightly covered my dignity whilst being poked and prodded in so many different places.

When I arrived in my labour and delivery room, they tried to usher me into a horrible (open backed) itchy hospital gown and when I told the midwives I had my own gown to wear they responded with “I’m sure it’s lovely, but I’m afraid we need you to wear the hospital gown so we can attach monitors and give you an epidural if necessary.” You can imagine my shit eating grin when I was able to tell them that the gown accommodated all of the above. I managed to dodge the hospital gown after all and the midwives showed great delight and intrigue in the gown I put on (one of them even jotted down the name of the company).

The only comment I would make is that Pretty Pushers missed a trick and I would highly suggest that they offer matching dressing gowns as anyone going through labour will tell you, your temperature fluctuates from roasting hot to freezing cold and a halter neck does not deal well with the freezing cold part, I would have loved to have had a nice, matching 100% cotton robe to throw over my shoulders instead of hospital blankets.

But all in all, I was on a quest to find something comfortable and wearable for labour and I genuinely found it.
Oh and that photo up there… That’s what an early contraction looks like. It got uglier after that!

Maternity gown in I dream of Sushi design c/o Pretty Pushers.
All reviews on Rocked By Life are conducted with complete honesty and transparency. I will never feature something I don’t love the sh*t out of.

 

our birth story: part 2 *warning, graphic imagery*

IMG_3260

It took a good half an hour for the contractions to begin. I laboured through them for 4 hours, bouncing on the birthing ball (cannot recommend those things enough), leaning on Gavin and standing swaying through most of it. Sitting down or lying down was NOT an option.

And it’s true, no one can really explain what a contraction feels like. It’s a weird hybrid of tightening muscles, period pain and downward pressure. It ain’t comfortable, but it is do-able. At one point, my contractions were literally off the scale with the midwife saying “There is no way you’re having these contractions and not dilating, shall we check how far on you are?”. I agreed, she examined me and… 2cms. My cervix had not budged one tiny bit since that morning when my waters broke.

I was deflated, but not defeated. I had until midnight to fully dilate (you can only be on syntocinon for 12 hours) and this was about 4pm. 8 hours… No problem, I could do this. I bounced more, I walked more and just when I was starting to struggle with the pain, I put my headphones on and leant against the bed. I later found out that at that very moment, a woman in the suite next door started screaming blue murder and Gavin looked at my Mum as if to say “Thank fuck she can’t hear that!”. (I have my brother to thank there, who briefly came up to the hospital with his headphones and chargers earlier in the process as we had forgotten ours!! Rookie mistake).

I was then visited by the consultant who broke the news that my platelets were dropping and if they dropped below 80, then I would be refused an epidural. She also mentioned that this meant if I needed an emergency cesarean and I hadn’t had the epidural catheter put in, that there was a chance I’d have to get put under and miss the birth. This was a no brainer… Put the epidural catheter in and if I needed the drugs, so be it, if not, I’d do it without. The anaesthetist was in the room pretty quickly and before I knew it, I was hunched over Gavin having a tube fed into my spine. Weirdest feeling ever. Unbeknownst to me, the drugs were hooked up and the pain went away. But let me tell you… At this stage I was not complaining!!

Time ticked by as I fell in and out of sleep. It was about 10:30pm at this stage and I was due for another examination to see how I was dilating… You guessed it. 2cms. I had 2 hours to make another 8cms happen before they had to turn the syntocinon off. Not long after I was examined, the worst sound filled the room… Our baby’s heart rate started to drop. At that moment a consultant burst in as she could see the trace from outside and was concerned, there was a bit of a panic while the consultant gave me an internal examination to tickle the baby’s head looking for a response in the heart rate. He responded and his heart rate steadied. At this point I felt sick with worry so when the consultant said “Sweetheart, baby isn’t happy and you aren’t progressing, it’s looking more and more like a cesarean section”, I just needed to know that our son was going to be ok.

After a final check (2cms…) and a few more drops in heart rate, the decision was made at midnight for c-section.  The best part was yet to come… On the way to theatre I was shaking with nerves. Physically shaking. When I was brought into the anaesthetists room, I was faced with the most kick ass punk rocker girl covered in piercings with purple hair… My anaesthetist. I wish I remembered her name. She made our whole birthing experience so special, from the love and reassurance she gave me, to the music she put on during the procedure.

In fact, the entire theatre team were phenomenal. They knew that a c-section was so far removed from our original birth plan that they truly went out of their way for us. They gave us delayed cord clamping and allowed me skin to skin contact immediately after the birth. Apparently it’s very very rare that they will allow delayed cord clamping in theatre,  but we got it!

We had been in hospital for 19 hours and our baby was about to be born. The moment of dawning hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt incredibly nervous. The c-section went without a hitch, although at one point the curtain fell and we looked up to see the surgeon on top of the table (apparently she had to get a bit of purchase to pull him out). That was weird. I had managed to hold myself together all day, not crying once when everything was going tits up and decisions so far from what I had hoped for were being made. But the moment my baby boy’s lungs hit the air and he started screaming, I completely and utterly lost it. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard in my life. The overwhelming sense of relief, happiness and sheer disbelief was a cocktail I was not expecting and it was incredible.

He was born at 3:13am on 9th February 2014, his due date. And he is by far the best little person Gavin and I have ever met.

IMG_3301