Parenting dilema #1 of many

Happy Smiley Carson

I'm in love and happy with my son and yes, I once used to scoff when I heard such things as "they make life worth living" or "they are the light of my life" but I no longer do. Well, actually, thats not correct, I still do as I think 'come on, can't we be a little more creative?' but I get it now. I understand. Its the truth. I can't put into words what I feel for this little lad. I love my twin nieces and nephew beyond belief, but despite this great love for them, it differs to this. I shall note it is not less. I cannot put my finger on it exactly but I suppose it is because my nieces and my nephew had my sister, their Mum to be the protector. But with Carson, I know he depends totally exclusively on me. There is nobody else that will do that. So I have to be OK 24/7, there 24/7, oncall 24/7... Already things are starting to split me in half. My sister got her degree last year and had been searching for a job for ages but had no luck. The market in the UK didn't hold out much hope of throwing up a part-time job for her so she agreed she would look after my son while I was at University until a space became available at a nearby nursery. As it happens, the waiting lists are either shut or open but with no hope of a place until at least September 2012. So, I'll have to get a childminder, if I can. But that is where the split comes in; although my Nanna was a childminder, who was absolutely brilliant and most of the kids she looked after called her Nan too, in my experience I haven't come across many people with this personal touch. My nan is 85 now and although she does look after family kids, I don't want to make her have the baby. Don't get me wrong, she loves her grandkids and great-grandkids but she is retired now for a reason. My son is just hard work! I'm still not getting to sleep in my bed as he refuses to be put in his moses basket so I have to sit up with him all night, and during the day he refuses to be left alone even for a second while I go take a piss! He starts screaming hysterically! I fuss him like hell (well, cut me some slack, I am his mum!) and in a way, I really don't want to leave him, but if I have to, my sister was first choice. But I'm glad she has got a job. I was actually due to start uni on September 12th, after giving birth on August 5th but University here in Cambridge offer January starts thank god, so I jumped at the chance when they offered me this. I would love to leave it till Sep 2012 but I can't unless I want to pay double as University fees are going up.  If Carson werent here I wouldn't care about the debt, but the whole point of me wanting to go to Uni is to get a degree so I can get a good job to look after him and make sure he is OK. So, its stay at home and end up an extra £10-15k in debt or go now and have him looked after by someone I don't know. That thought simply already fills me with dread and makes me sick. I just picture undercover programmes on unfit nannies who maltreat the kids, articles on sex offenders whose inknowing partners were childminders... Ha, I feel like this and I'll only be leaving him one day and two half days a week! So... as of now, I'm madly going around trying to get care. I hope I can handle it, I'm sure I can. Things are going well, but the past is always there lingering, especially like it tends to in small places like Cambridge. I don't know, I'm being applauded in many ways but its like two steps forward, and two back all the time. I'm stationed in this exact place, and I can't seem to move on no matter how hard I try.
Sometimes I wish I was just totally down in the dumps again, thoroughly miserable, hopelessly depressed. Sounds odd when right now part of me can be happy. Though, when its like this, I find it a million times worse. Because before, there were no glimpses of happiness, and it had been so long since I'd felt it, I'd long forgotten it. Now I get the occasional flash, or rush when I'm with my boy and it just brings a wave of sadness right after as I know for me, its unobtainable, as it was for my Dad and many other relatives and it frightens me what affect I will have on Carson as he grows older, or how he might be affected genetically.
I try not to think about it too much. I try and just focus on my boy, who right now is sitting on my lap. He will be eleven weeks on Friday 21st. Judging by all the people from the drug scene in Cambs who have had their kids taken away, kids don't always change you to such a degree you completely change. So far, all my habits have but most worryingly, my thoughts haven't. It's odd, I'm not depressed but I know I'm not cured. There's something in the water still.

quick little hi while he is down!

I have just put my son down underneath his gym, and while I should take advantage of the rare moments in which he doesn't cry to be held, I can't help but watch him! I've put loads of his toys around the gym, of course, he can't play with any of them yet but they have a variety of sounds. My particular favourite is the Fisher Price Precious Planet Lion Crib Mirror. It is beautiful; a large lion whose body is a big mirror with hanging rattle shapes. I read that mirrors are very good for babies so I purchased it from amazon before he was born. He has been staring at it for the past ten minutes or so. Bless him, making all manner of facial expressions in it. I don't know what age babies smile 'properly'  but I still find it sweet to see him do so, whether it be wind as people say or merely him twitching his face. He is a baby that usually hates to be put down but under the guidance of a parenting book, I'm slowly reversing it. However, now he is older (5 weeks) and more alert, he enjoys being put down and he explores. Something he wasn't doing when he was on my chest 24/7! He contentidly lies there observing his surroundings. I take him out in my SleepyWrap which I much prefer to his pram, he hated his pram and would scream as soon as I stopped pushing it, so at the supermarket I would get into a right tizz as I was trying to pack my groceries while people tutted at me because of my screaming baby! The sleepywrap is just a strip of fabric you tie, at first I didn't know how to do it or was more nervous I hadn't got it right, but once I looked at a video on youtube I realised where I was going wrong and cracked it. My sis had a normal babycarrier and she didn't like it, she likened it to a ghostbusters backpack!! Baby didn't like it either. It always looked as if his head was jerking around in it whereas with this fabric, it moulds to his body and supports his head so its not flopping about. It was £40 and I ordered it on the spur of the moment because my wrists were really painful and had seized up, I guess from cradling him all day. Literally, it was hard to move them or change a nappy etc. but because I was the only one there, tough titty, had to be done!! He would scream if I put him down so it was impossible to get in the bath, wash-up, tidy, hoover... if I wanted to do any of this I had to get my mum or sis or friends or babies Dad round to hold him while I done whatever I wanted to get done! I was doing everything one handed but I  couldn't cook or use the kettle as I was petrified holding the baby and using my one hand would result in a disaster. So I scanned through Amazon and picked the one wrap and phew, its a life saver. I love and live for Amazon now! So easy! I don't get on the internet much anymore, so I purchased a BlackBerry Curve. Wow...what a piece of shit! I am going to return it to Tesco. I haven't been able to connect to the internet once on my own wifi or any other wifi either. I am on Virgin and I see many people have this problem. Now I'm looking at other phones and I really dont know what to get... my mum has an iphone and says get that but I don't want to commit to that as I'm going to university and won't be on any statesupport so I can't afford such a luxury. i could buy it for payasyougo, non-contract but thats nearly £500 and I could save that money for the house to make it nicer. Basically, what phone should I go for that is £200 or under? I want it for blogging, twitter, facebook and calls and texts. I have a really good seperate camera anyway so I'm not too fussed about that. I love HTC's also. Maybe I should just get a contract? OOOOps, baby is starting, wow, he lied alone for all of ten minutes! I keep on reading these parenting books but no decent advice on how to get a baby to sleep in a crib when he hates to be put down and wakes up as soon as he is! Some say its because he is breastfed, I don't know about that however. Even when a baby is bottlefed, he is in your arms for the same amount of time and getting close to you, so its not as if my baby is held more. Well he is, as he cries when I put him down but you know what I mean. I think I need to go to a breastfeeding clinic and get some advice, as this advice is coming from people that bottle feed. I hate the great breastfeeding -v- bottle debate, it causes some real amniosity between people and heated arguments. Personally, its up to you. My mum for instance, didn't breastfeed my sister or I. Not sure why, she hasn't really given a reason. She was indeed a nurse, but when we were born in the 80s I don't think the BREAST IS BEST drive was that intense. It is very interesting to listen to attitudes regarding breastfeeding. When I was in hospital afterwards, I heard women that simply went "urgh, im not doing that" as if it were disgusting. fair enough if thats how they felt. others werent so forthcoming with their reasons for why they werent going to, but they instantly went for the formula. statistics show that social class is something that affects whether a mother will choose to do so. you would think lower classes, thus with less money would breast feed as its by far the cheaper option but no, upper classes are more aware of the health benefits and go for BF. I definately noticed most people my age formula fed thats for sure. I don't know what makes my attitude so starkly different or anything. I can't speak for everyone, but while Carsons Dad comes around (he bought him so beautiful outfits yesterday) he doesn't live with me and I have the time and privacy to devote to breastfeeding. I know its the most natural thing in the world and shouldn't be shameful, too right, but I know some women find it uncomfortable infront of their partners. Shockingly, a member of my family had her son after previously having a child and desperately wanted to breastfeed, so she put her heart and soul into it. Her partner was so utterly unsupportive. I was round their house one night and went into the kitchen to get a cup of tea while the mother had a nap. I saw the Dad with the baby giving him a bottle of formula and it dawned on me what the cause of the problem was- the mother was in tears that her baby wouldn't feed from the breast. Why? The Dad was supplementing the baby with bottles behind the mums back before the Mum went to feed him, no wonder he wasn't feeding from her he was stuffed. I was gobsmacked. The Dads motive- jealousy maybe? I don't know but it was bloody bizarre. I have heard from others that dads have behaved similarly, have wanted the women to give up as they feel a little left out, whether its because they want to take the strain off the mum or because genuinely they are jealous of the close bond I don't know. I don't have that problem. Perks about being a single parent, at least thats one of them I suppose. Baby Carson was sooooo tiny when he was born but now, wow! When you are with a baby everyday you don't notice them growing. It wasn't until I looked at his suite, one that was hanging off him in the hospital so much we had to fold up the arms and legs, and noticed his feet touched the ends and his hands were far far out of the arms and he had basically nearly outgrown it. He looks far less dinky and delicate now and is getting that lovely baby fat they have! He has a lovely double chin- takes after his mum in this aspect definately!! I realised the other day that I hadn't give him adult music to listen to. He has his toys with nursery rhymes but before he was born I read New Scientist which explained studies had found babies could recognise music they had been exposed to while in utero. Maybe at 5 or 6 weeks I had left it too late (though how would I know? this was my front room not a labatory setting!) but I thought I better give him some to listen to. So, I whacked on some Elvis and Beatles but most importantly, this Ska album that I had played constantly throughout my pregnancy. He seemed awfully puzzled by these new noises, and kept amused for a good half an hour or so. I got some nice Philips speakers to connect to the laptop so I can hear music decently. Carsons Dad is a guitarist and a brilliant singer, I hope baby takes after him and doesn't inherit my singing voice!! I know, I know, my birth story... still have yet to write it! I will! Perhaps this afternoon! Though that probably translate as in two weeks to you guys! I will certainly post new pics xxx hope you are all well

Introducing... Baby Carson!

...Baby Carson Garry Cave...
...Born 5th August 2011 at 11.19pm, 5lbs 12oz...

my twin nieces and my momma holding baby

sorry i have not posted sooner! i am happy to announce the arrival of Carson Garry Cave. he was originally due on the 10th anniversary of my fathers death which was the 24th, so it felt more important than ever to have his grandfathers first name as his middle one. i am so happy, especially since he was home within a week- absolutely no effects from the medication i take! i had taken it down and down so i was hoping and begging it wouldn't happen to us and alas, it didn't- phew! he had to go on a bilibed as he had jaundice, hence why he was in hospital for a week but thats all sorted- apparently, its quite common in small babies born before 38 weeks, and he was born at 37. we are getting on fine, just fine :) my momma slept over the first night but then i was keen to go it alone and get used to the two of us being together and also, getting used to sleep deprivation! which he has given me a lot of- basically, he hates to be put down, and won't. however, he went down for 2 naps yesterday, 6 hours in total. good, because i was so exhuasted as i couldnt doze off holding him as i was scared id roll ontop of him or something, and i couldn't cook anything or eat anything as one handed it was too tricky! and as for getting in the bath- ha! no way, unless somebody came over to help me and have him while i jumped in. Luckily, i live within 5 mins of my family; sis, mum, grandparents and they have been such massive help. I will post again later, including about the labour! I was given pessary gels for 2 days but nothing worked, then in the afternoon of the 5th they broke my waters and labour progressed thick and fast- it was about 5 hours, or just over. It was fine once I had gas & air and an epidural and hats off to my sister for fainting as my little boy came into the world- she always has to steal the show!!! my momma was torn between carefully lowering her to the floor as her legs buckled from underneath her and watching her grandson come into the world. Well, i'm about to take Carson to the store for supplies, he is just finishing a feed. he loves to scream blue murder everytime im in the store, and people tut and roll their eyes- jesus, he's a baby what can i do apart from locking him indoors so nobody else has to hear him cry? ive just dressed him in his little grey and blue outfit which consists of jeans, a hoodie and a lil grey vest. he looks like a mini-man! ALSO: great news! my university says i can start in january instead of september 12th so i have a bit longer to spend at home with Carson. yay!

being induced on august 3rd!

OK, after 2 months 19days and 8 hours (80 days + 8 hours) of being aware I was carrying a little boy, I am going to be induced! Wednesday 3rd August, 8am.

For anyone that has glanced at my blog, you'll see my amniotic fluid went up, then down, then back up again! Now its down again. I was originally going to have to have him out at 32 weeks, but things returned to normal and he has held on in there. He was breech till the last minute, but has now turned head down, so no c-section for me no more! I'm going to have to have a natural birth after all... which doesn't bother me too much as I was told a c-section would be very painful for me as they couldn't give me more morphine for relief and my tolerance level meant the standard amount wouldnt touch me!

I still can't believe I am going to be a momma. I have this baby moving inside me, but I can't quite believe there is really one in there, if that makes ANY sense! I have everything ready, including an Eric Carle HUNGRY CATERPILLAR nursery, which also doubles as my room. His name is going to be CARSON :)

His original due date was 24th August, so 3rd August is 37 weeks, which is considered full term anyway. Considering I found out so increadibly late, I've done pretty well. I recently graduated from college, I passed the course, and now have my place at University for September where I will study Social Policy. Luckily, my sis will have my boy. The moment I found out I was pregnant, I stopped drinking and I was abstinant from street drugs and ciggies anyway. Ironically though, I was told I'd of been better off not drinking, and taking heroin instead. Im petrified my baby will have FAS as i was boozing all day everyday until I found out :( I hope not, but I;ll love him regardless. I have decided not to drink for the foreseable future, I don't want to risk it at all. I can't do what my Dad did to me, to my son and I won't. I'm still good friends with an ex chief constable regarding drug policy and the need for change. I don't regret my time as a heroin addict for one reason only; i feel its given me the unique position to assist others and change things for the better. i know that may sound corny, and it is, but its also true. I wouldn't be who I am without those years and yes they hurt a lot of people, damanged my health and took years of my life, but its also changed me for the better in some ways.

Any parenting advice is much appreciated :) So come september I will have a baby, a university degree education beginning... things have really turned around. I mean, they had before, but obviously, my son has compounded this even more. To be told I'd never have children was one thing, but finding out i was 25weeks pregnant was another! I;ll let you know how I get on anyway. I was at the bottom of the pit, on deaths door, had nothing, was so fucking miserable... my probs aint gone away but im much better so im a testimony to y'all that it gets better, and it does.

r.i.p amy winehouse

To say drugs have been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember, both voluntarily & involuntarily, is probably the worlds biggest understatement. I try to not let that define me, but it is difficult not to at times. Despite realising I don't have to follow a career working with addicts or develop friendships & relationships with certain individuals because my primary motivation is to save them from themselves... it is still hard to divorce myself from all things drug related. I don't know how detrimental that is at the moment- I mean, it is not stopping me from moving on and I'm getting a good political and social education as I am constantly following drug policy in various countries, and drug cultures around the world for example. Though, its inevitable I remain pretty sensitive when people comment on the subject, especially if it is derogatory. When Amy Winehouse was found dead this Saturday 23rd July, the news spread rapidly aided by Facebook, Twitter & texts to name a few. I found out within moments of the news breaking; I turned off my TV, locked up and left for my sisters house a mere 10 minutes away. When she opened the door she asked me "Oh my god, have you heard the terrible news?" and I must say, my stomach knotted as it was the same thing I had been told when I lost my close friend to suicide. She must have picked up on this because she immediately told me, stopping my mind from conjuring a list of disasters that might have befallen one of my family in the time it took to leave mine and arrive at hers. This is the same thing I do when I get a phone call in the early hours of the morning, before I pick up the receiver my mind is racing through a million-and-one tragedies that I might be told in a moment, and I guess its my way of preparing. As I logged online, I prepared myself for the harsh comments and cruel words and I wasn't let down I can assure you. They seemed to outweigh the 'with sympathies'. Maybe I shouldn't expect too much of others who haven't had direct experience with addiction, or at the very least learn to not be so offended. But I can't help it. And I couldn't. I went through a list of them, declaring she was just a dirty junkie that deserved to die. "Good riddance smackrat" was another. "She bought it on herself", "She wanted to die", "So what?" and "What about soldiers dying for our country? Or the tragedy in Norway. Why is she getting all this coverage?" I probably shouldn't have wasted my time but I felt I needed to explain to the person that our culture holds celebrities in extremely high-esteem and they always receive major coverage, and until we find politics more pressing than reality tv stars or singers, deal with it. Or buy a different paper or watch a different news channel. People were saying she got what she deserved, and she wanted it. I very much doubt it. While you are in the depths of addiction, you care little for living and you think little of life and you may believe you would prefer death to it. But once you get clean, that feeling goes instantly in most cases. Others commented that she didn't want to help herself, even though she had access to some of the best. Who knows, if she had lived longer, her recovery may have been right round the corner, or a year, 5 years or 10 years down the line. It takes people a long time to end up like they do, so its only plausible it will take an equally lengthy amount of it to change. An addict needs to hit rock bottom, I know that is a cliche but it is true, and only then do they know things have to change, and they either make the first step or they don't. Up until then, you can try whatever you want and so can they- but it will be unsuccessful in getting them to get and stay clean. Its absolutely awful she will never have this chance. Any loss of life is greatly sad, but it especially leaves a bitter taste in the mouth if they happen to be young, and at 27, Amy was precisely that. When a death occurs at the age of 80 or so, you can console yourself with the fact they had a good innings, and lived to really experience many things... and despite the lifestyle she had 27 is still far too young to go. I am 23, 27 is not that much older, and I don't believe at that age you are remotely wise or mature enough to decide whether you wish to piss your life up the wall until you end it. You may think you want to, but on reflection- on sober reflection, they usually discover its not the case. I cannot begin to imagine for a second how her family must be feeling. As it is so soon, there will be feelings of utter disbelief. Comments suggested it was a long time coming, and her family would be prepared, but thats not true. It doesn't matter how long somebody has been carrying on living a destructive life, no matter how much you think you are prepared for it, when it happens, its surreal and unreal. In fact, the longer somebody goes on with their hard living, the more shocking it usually is because their bodies coped through such abuse, you think it will forever. I know this from personal experience. The grieving process is notoriously difficult. I can't imagine what it would be like with the added pressure of being in the spotlight, and having all and sundry commenting on your daughters life and what you should of done to help her, what you didnt do..,. and of course those comments on how she put herself there and basically deserved it. Poor family. I hope wherever she is now, she is at peace. I know I am totally oversensitive to the topic of drugs, and I probably need to toughen up. I can take it when people say things against me, I have incredibly thick skin, but I always feel more hurt for others and feel the need to defend them. And this case is no different, even though I never knew her. I have to wonder though, would Amy be dead if our drug policy weren't so bloody useless? Maybe not. Probably not.

35 weeks and 2 days

Since the 15th May, when I found out I was 6 months pregnant, things have changed dramatically in ways I never thought possible. My life is entirely different and it is still early days. Certain professionals around me at the moment (and believe me, there are a lot) are telling me to be cautious and prepare for a sudden dip in my mood & huge stress- both of which they see as triggers for drug use. And they are telling me to be prepared for the fact I will have no incentive to not use, as I will no longer be pregnant. It is hard not to become offended when they say such things. I know I shouldn't think myself exempt from relapse, or temptation at the very least, but what nobody seems to listen to is I had been clean since last year anyway, before the baby was concieved, so I had made changes before. I didn't just find out I was pregnant, then decide to get clean, or have a baby to push myself to get clean. I had enrolled in college, attended (and now completed; got my diploma and am off to University this September for my BA (hons) Social Policy)... something that would have been impossible if I were still submerged in the using culture. If you compare 7 years on, with 8 months off, it doesn't seem that impressive. But I can assure you, during those 7 years I never went anything near that length of time abstinent. Despite what it had done, and was doing, to my life the sickness that a user needs to develop; a sickness of what it does to you, your life, your family and friends, relationships, opportunities, your health was not yet there. But 2010 saw an ephinany of sorts, and I knew it was no longer viable to continue as I was. I really became frustrated, bored and tired with the life I was living and knew I had to do something- which was stop using. Simple as that. Though to suddenly turn your back on 7 years of well, not friends, but aquaintances, routine and living life in a way you had become acustomed to was hard. But easy at the same time, once you wanted it bad enough. Even though financially I had more income than I had ever had in my life at this stage I never once got tempted to use. And I could have done, easily, with more than enough money left over to live and pay bills. Using had run its course. So I try and explain to the professionals I am over and done with it, but they treat me as if I am exempting myself and have my head stuck in the clouds. I don't. I know how unbelievably tough motherhood is going to be. Once I found out I was pregnant, the life I had already put to bed was well and truly dead and buried forever, without exception. I have an obligation to my son to give him the best life I possibly can, and I come second to that now, regardless. I am not being silly, but I know I will not go back and use. Ever. It is done, its over and done with. It already was. But now this just reinforces that. The whole time I was sober, never once did I yearn to use, even when I had a really bad problem. When I found out I was 6 months pregnant, I didn't have so much as a cigarette, or a stiff drink to help with the shock. That moment, I just knew it was over. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I am not in some dreamworld thinking motherhood is going to be easy, and hell, I've seen the best of them break down in tears and say they can't cope. So will I probably. But it will pass, as it does, just not with the help of any substances thats for sure. I have complete faith and trust in myself. I could never ever drink or use when I looked after my twin nieces or nephew, as I knew that was a no-no, an inconceivable thing to do... so I certainly couldn't do so to my own child. What makes it so good is, I feel better than I have in a long long time. Before, the thought of being alone with myself, with my own thoughts and feelings without a buffer inbetween scared the hell out of me. Now, I am completely at peace being sober.

I have reduced my meth to such a level, which is uncomfortable (to put it lightly) but its something I wanted to do. There are many myths surrounding methadone use during pregnancy but the simple truth is it is extremely dangerous and 100% advised AGAINST to stop use. It causes miscarriage and early labour. My doctors were even apprehensive to let me reduce it even. They explained to me when you are pregnant, your level of blood doubles almost, so a lot of women need to increase their dose. This is why I am feeling so bad, my dose is decreasing when my body needs more. I know it can be dangerous, but I don't think I am doing it that way; by the time its the next day and time for my next one, I'm just starting to hit the gagging and puking stage. Saved just in time. Up till then, I am experiencing poor sleep, chronic toothache, bones hurt, sneezing, watery eyes. Its horrid, but the last thing I want to do is to go up. And I am not going to either. When he is born, I am going to carry on reducing, and switch to subutex. During this time period, I am going to apply to go into a detox or save up for Detox5 which is the private option. I wanted rid of the liquid handcuffs, and even moreso now I am to be a Mum. Obviously, I want the 5 day option, so my son can stay with my mum or sister (my family all have our 4 homes within 10 minutes walk of each other, i am the only one thats street isn't directly connected to the others). Though my son comes first, and maybe I shall not want to leave him for even that long, and I have to make sure I'm ok and well enough to look after him, so if that means leaving it until after my university degree (its 3 years long) then so be it. What is paramount is my son, and being well enough to care for him. Thats all.

I had my scan yesterday at 8am and basically, I have them every week. This was because my amniotic fluid dropped so low. Then, it went back up again and was fine. Then it went low again. The scan I had yesterday measures the fluid and checks the placenta and umbilical cords blood flow. Next week will measure babies growth. They don't do measurements weekly as the baby doesn't grow substantially enough each week to make a significant mark on the graphs they plot to determin adequete development. So, a really nice male doctor done my ultrasound, and I was with my friend Tom for support. Everything was fine; infact, the doctor said it was "fantastic". It was sweet, sweet relief. I had a clinic appointment in the afternoon at 4pm, which I was told I didn't need to go to as things were fine, but I thought I would go anyway. I did and the consultant had nothing to say- which was lovely, as previously, there was always some bit of bad news like "this baby will be coming early, prepare yourself". It was all positive. Well, the doctor said the baby is STILL breech and next week I shall be 36 weeks, so if he is in the same position they will try and turn him. This worries me slightly, as when there is low fluid, the cord is less buyoant and there is a risk the cord can get wrapped round the babies neck. So you have to be ready for an emergency C-section which is fine, but they are going to have to put a central line in my neck (which involves a local anaesthetic and them using ultrasound to find a vein to insert a needle into) before so if something does go wrong, they can give me anaesthetic RIGHT AWAY. So, I am wondering if they will. The procedure is called an ECV and is successful in about 50% of cases. I can feel the babies head still lodged well beneath my ribs. He doesn't want to move ANYWHERE! awkard little so-and-so.

Good news on the Dad front. I was really worried his Dad wasn't going to bother with him. I think I jumped to conclusions too quickly, as I didn't really take into account how shocking it must have been for him to hear the big news. It was a shock for me and I found it hard to believe and I was the one carrying the boy and could see it clearer than anything, moving around all day long! Of course, who knows how he will be when he arrives but he calls every day, has come round to see me regularly, and is due to again tomorrow. Its difficuilt for both of us, or well, not difficuilt; foreign. This is for both of us, our first child. Its unknown territory. I haven't asked him for anything- financial, psychological etc. but he has offered, given, supported and if he keeps it up after the boy is born then great. He treats his nieces like I treat mine, and has a very similar relationship. For all our shortcomings, we are fantastic aunts & uncles. I thought the worse, but I have a good feeling. I don't think he is the sort of person that could ignore his own child. I very much doubt it.

My belly casting kit came today :) I just need to find someone to assist me doing it!! I have signed up for another blog under naomicave.blogspot.com and I am just working on a layout. I decided to set it up as it will be from the birth onwards, and while I am not going to gloss over my past and my drug abuse history, I just want to use it also for pictures of my son and I and my life. For a long time after I stopped drugs, I still felt defined by them. Then I realised I don't have to be anymore. I wanted a career working with drug addicts, but then I realised I felt I should do it, as I had inside knowledge and experience. NOTE TO SELF: your past doesn't have to define you for the rest of your life. I will still have this one though. As much as I am not ashamed of what I have been through, I know a stigma is going to follow me for probably the rest of my life. A consequence of that is it will probably rub off on my son. It makes me laugh while simultaneously being angry when people judge me and look down on me for what I was addicted to. An example of this is an argument somebody had on Facebook with my sister. I responded, not offensively or anything, and the person began to throw insults at me like "junkie", "smackhead" and revelling in the fact my family had been hit with such a devestating drug addiction. I wouldn't mind, except, this person takes crack cocaine and has convictions as long as his arm. I've never even been arrested. Yet, in the hierachy of drugs, he is ok and I'm the lowest of the low. Its bizarre- I known coke addicts who have robbed old people and violently mugged others and they and others think its ok, but me... god, no, I am evil. Its a joke really. Cambridge is so incestuous, I just know there will be people who will enjoy telling their kids to tell mine what his momma used to take. By that point, I doubt I will care as I will be working with an entirely new life. I fully believe that. Well, I am 35 weeks and 2 days and boy, am I feeling the exhaustion! At the same time, I feel better than I have in years!

Baby is still in, scan later today though!

To say things are always busy is a chronic understatement! Once I finished college, I thought great, some time to relax, but no; more, time to sort everything out with not a moment to rest. After being told about my amniotic fluid plummeting to 3, dangerously low, and the baby had not appeared to grow, I was upped to weakly scans and intense monitoring- including of the babies heartbeat. Which by the way, was fine and normal every time I went. I spent the week after being told I needed to pack my bags and be on alert for a c-section, very very fraught. I had to force myself to eat, I was shakey, my muscles were so tense. It was horrible, and the way the consultant spoke to me (he was rushed, under pressure, i don't think he meant to be like that) upset me immensely and made me feel as if it were my fault, and he completely doubted me. I knew I hadn't so much as a touched a cigarette, drink, or drugs. I had my wisdom teeth coming through and they were so painful, I am even hesitant to take paracetomol for heavens sake! ANYWAY....
My good friend Tim came with me to the scan 7 days after I was told about the low fluid level, the steroid injections to mature babies lungs for a premature delivery etc. When she done the scan, she found the fluid level NORMAL! Back at over a 10! I was so relieved. My placenta was working fine, the umbilical cord was shown to be working fine. They were very suprised the fluid had gone back up, as they said it was unlikely that would happen. Looking back to the scan the week previously, the specialist had to call me back in because he had taken the leg measurements wrong and the assistant spotted it when she plotted it on the graph and found it to be noticably incorrect. As I said, they were running an hour+ late and were under a lot of stress you could tell, it was very rushed. I am wondering if he made a mistake at all? Is it possible? Who knows. He told me he hadn't grown. Last week, she didn't measure the baby at the scan, only the fluid and umbilical cord etc. When I asked why, she simply said because in 7 days, the measurements probably wouldn't have drastically changed so it wasn't a good enough indicator to go on, whereas 2 weeks gives enough time to show significant difference (or none at all if baby isn't growing) which will tell them instantly whats going on.

So, I am due to go in today at 12.30pm to get the growth scan. And I will find out if it was just a mistake, or if the baby was having a little slump and hadn't grown much, but has now had a spurt. OR the worse thing, which would be, the baby isn't growing at all. I doubt this is the case, I really do. I have grown so much BIGGER. I will have to get a photo up on here. My bump is so HUGE and I was told his movements might slow down because of lack of space, but no way, he is still moving around like an acrobat in there. My tummy moves up and down in waves and it looks so freaky! I end up cross eyed as I spend so much time looking at it when he is doing it!
Tonight, I have the gradutation awards from College. I could only take one person, so I opted for my 85 year old nanna whom I love to pieces. She was devestated during my time on drugs, as was everyone, but she always had faith in me, faith in me that I would come out of it and move on. And I have. So she was my first choice. She will take some photos there and I will get them up also.

Well, before my scan at midday I am popping out with Tim to get some paint for the house. I am doing the front room, hall, bedroom, kitchen & bathroom. But the living room and bedroom are my priority. As I am sharing with the baby, I am going to go for a HUNGRY CATAPILLAR theme. I got some gorgeous things for him in that style from Amazon. I will pop them up later. I love the hungry catapillar by Eric Carle, its the best. A timeless classic. I'm not into bears and fluffy things so I find the HC very cool, and I would have probably made my bedroom like that even if I didn't have a baby!!!
He is still in there........ come on boy, wait some more. I hope everything is ok today. I believe the babies father is going. I saw him the other day, which I will write about later. Love to you all, thanks for your support! Update no later than tomorrow I PROMISE!

Naomi xxx

p.s THERE IS NO HERO IN HEROIN a blog from a mothers point of view. I came across this entry, written on her sons 21st birthday. It is beautifully written, and the memories are amazing. But at the same time, as with anything related to addiction, it becomes utterly heartbreaking. I suggest reading it. I burst into tears by the end of it, and I cry at NOTHING. A very powerful piece.
http://thereisnoheroinheroin.blogspot.com/2011/07/happy-21st-birthday.html

the shortest pregnancy ever

I was going to write a continuation on Thursday, after I got home from the hospital, filling in all the gaps of what's been happening etc. but things took an unexpected turn and well, I have only just now had the time to sit down and write.....
On Thursday, I happily went to the hospital by myself for my scan. It was the first time I had been alone, but I was feeling positive so didn't mind. The previous weeks scan had shown him to be 3lbs 11oz which was fine but the sonographer pointed out my amniotic fluid was just above normal at 10.1 and anything deemed to be in this catagory is 10-25. She warned me just incase there was a further reduction. My sister had this issue when she was pregnant with her twins, and they had to be delivered 6 weeks premature. The maternity unit was so grossly understaffed you could tell everyone working there was seriously under pressure. It took me 2 hours to get into my appointment, and I saw a lady waiting 5 hours for hers. Naturally, I didn't mind waiting, but I can see why the others who had screaming kids hanging round their legs did. And I felt sorry for this young couple who had obviously arrived for their first scan, and he (in his soldiers uniform) had to leave as they were running so late, and return to base. Every time I have gone in for a scan, my baby has been so awkard. He never wants to be seen properly and Thursday was no different. As I was such a late booker, I had to have all the abnormality scans etc. which have been made pretty tricky by his position in the womb. The specialist consultant had seen me some weeks prior, and concluded from the ultrasound & 4D scan there were no abnormalities to face, brain, heart, limbs which put me at ease. He couldn't get a clear view of the eyes, so this is why I had to return on the Thursday. But my baby has different plans, and the consultant said he had his limbs infront of his face. When he switched it to 4D, clear as anything I saw these two little feet obstructing the facial area. Last scan, he done an internal and tipped the bed etc. to make the baby move position but he didn't even both doing that this time. Instead, he told me that I should just wait until he is born to find out if there are any problems. This really upset me, I mean, I know they were busy and understaffed and under pressure, but that little bit of extra time he could have taken would have prevented me from being like I am now: a big bag of nerves.

My amniotic fluid has dropped to just below 4. The consultant asked me if I was drinking, taking drugs etc. and I proceeded to tell him the absolute truth: no, not a thing. It was apparent he didn't believe me and told me that "well, it must be connected to something,". I explained I voluntarily give drug tests at both the hospital and my own GP surgery and I have so many people, professionals and non-professionals that can vouch for me. It must seem incomprehensible to him that somebody can just stop drinking, but there was never any discussion about what would happen once I found out about the baby: I wouldn't touch another single drop. And I haven't. I know he is probably used to people not telling the truth, but for the sake of my babies health I was upfront and 100% honest from the start, and have continued to be. As the amniotic fluid drops, it means the placenta isnt working as efficiently, so baby isn't getting all the nutrients it needs. As a result, in that 7 days he had not grown anymore- so in 7 days he went from good sized healthy baby to below weight for his age baby. He explained that the baby might have to be delivered early.

I went to the fetal medicine unit and had a monitoring machine put on my stomach to measure babies heart rate. I was in there once before when I was worried about babies lack of movement, and the same nurse had to be called to deal with me when the awkard baby started playing up again. As he is breech, and in the most bizarre of positions (alternates between sitting up dead straight like a buddha or sinking low low down and lying like you would in a hammock, just alternating that for my pelvis!) they could not get his heartbeat, and obviously without that, they couldnt do the test. They had to send me off for an hour to see the consultant, in which time I moved around up and down pacing to get him to shift. That only made a bit of difference, and I had to press down the monitor with both thumbs to get the heartbeat sufficiently enough, and he kept on moving- which made it difficuilt to press the buzzer in my hand which notes everytime he makes a movement. Its amazing how many you dont notice when you are not laying down focusing purely on that,

So, between waiting for my baby to shift, my momma got off work and came down to meet me. We went into see a consultant, who was really good and thorough in explaining everything. I felt better having my momma there, as because she is in the medical field, she retains information a lot better than I and/or can explain it better for me as if you don't have the knowledge, it can be tricky to take it in. She basically said "We could be meeting this baby very soon, possibly this next week" This to me well... it was shocking but it wasn't. I mean lets face it, in about 2 months I have discovered I am 6 months pregnant, had to accept it, digest it, prepare for motherhood... and now looks like I will be having the baby too! Shortest pregnancy ever I am sure you will agree!

I had steroid injections to mature the babies lungs in preperation for the c-section i will most likely have to have if this Thursday, the amniotic fluid has not risen or has further decreased. I am scared of giving birth naturally, but I'd rather have that than him come out premature via c-section. Obviously, i want the best for him and i want him to hang on a little while longer. I burst into tears when I came out of the scan, as I know he probably didnt mean it, but the fact he didn't believe a word I said (even when it was backed up with clean tests on my hospital notes) totally upset me. And when he added it must be connected to something, I felt so small. I know many women it has happened to, and there is no explination in most cases. Just one of those things. I have done everything right, by the book since I found out. I drink litres of water every day, no caffiene, eat really well, loads of fruit, take my vitamins, exercise... and now in 7 days its gone from "fine healthy baby" to "baby hasn't shown any growth, might not be getting enough nutrients". I don't know how steady weight gain is for babies in the womb, whether it is always at a constant or whether it can vary per individual, with not much of a weight gain one week but the next a sudden surge. I mean, he did increase a lb in 14 days, and had been. Then in 7 days he didn't put on half a pound. I didn't get much time to speak to the scanner, as it was clear there wasn't time. I wish I had, it would have put my mind at ease.

Now, I am really trying hard to relax but I'm so on edge. I finished my mega essay on Marxism, and am just tying up some loose ends regarding college. All our work is marked via the external moderator next week, and we have been told we must be contactable via phone if there is an issue that needs to be sorted. I have told my tutors I could be in the hospital giving birth. That is adding to the load of stress, I feel something will go wrong and I won't be able to adjust it in time and I won't get my university place. EVERYTHING is getting to me. I just want a healthy baby. Thats all. I am being made to count his movements and that is even more of a stress, as babies dont kick all day but they said if you are unsure, get worried etc. come in immediately. I know he goes to sleep for a while, but what if I mix it up with something badly going wrong? I guess this is what motherhood is about WORRYING. A LOT. For the rest of our natural lives. So basically, guys, I may very well have a little baby boy come the end of this week. It is Aidans birthday on Thursday, would be funny if he is delivered then.
All I know is I would not be coping without family and friends. No way.

I'm not religious, I'm agnostic but funny how in times of complete hopelessness you find yourself reaching out to something, praying to something, for help. I find myself doing it, begging someone or something for hope and for everything to be ok.

Little update for now

The weather here in Cambridge is absolutely beautiful. I'm just sitting in my rocking chair, eating philidelphia bagels and cherries, enjoying the view of the trees outside my window against the bright sunny sky. It is no countryside view, but being born and bred in the city, its what I am used to and I find it beautiful still in its own way; even though fields after fields as far as the eye can see are replaced with houses! But I find something rather curious when thinking of all the people that live in such close proximity to me; thinking of their lives, what they do, how they feel, where they are from... I've always been a keen fan of people watching. I remember every time I went to London I would go upstairs to the Wetherspoons in Victoria Station and get a drink and sit out on the balcony overlooking the departures board. I loved to watch the hundreds and hundreds of people passing in and out, the goodbyes and the hellos after long absences. I love people, hence why Sociology grips me so much.

Speaking of sociology, I am just finishing off my sociology essay on marxism. College has now finished, and I just have to get in my last bits of work in order to pass my course. My last unit in sociology was a research project we had to conduct; I do hope its ok and I pass. It would seriously, seriously break my heart if I didn't. As this was the last project, and due in last week, it leaves the time to amend it should it be rejected at virtually zero. I'm sure I will be ok, I've got through everything else. I guess its natural to be nervous about it, even more so now I have my university place in September, and my son being born days before that month. I had applied for university, and indeed started by course, long before I both concieved and found out I was pregnant, so I will say clearly: I did not have a baby as an incentive to turn my life around! On my last post I recieved a rather curt comment about what a tragedy my pregnancy was, and how babies shouldn't be used to get clean. I know this and I didn't do this, and well, my reply is in the comments section also. Having said that, obviously, I am determined more than ever to suceed at university (and life) and my drive to work and get a career has increased by a million. I think thats natural for anyone that becomes a parent.

I am so busy I seldom get time to stop and reflect on my situation. I don't get time to pause and take in how utterly mad the situation is. With all my symptoms described to the doctors, and being told I had a stomach ulcer and swelling of the liver, I didn't look elsewhere for any other possibilities; especially since I was told pregnancy naturally for me would be pretty much an impossibility. And having never had a period since the age of 17... well, that speaks for itself. I don't remember much from being at the first scan and being told I was 6 months pregnant, especially since I was told I was 4 WEEKS pregnant, so I was expecting that. I don't give myself much credit, if any. But I was told how well I was, and how well I had done; from recieving a shock like that I instantly adapated and didn't have so much as a cigarette (well, I'd given up smoking anyway but people have them when in shock, right?) or a stiff drink. Yeah, I thought, yeah. I know people without alcohol problems who found out and got drunk, so for somebody with poly-drug misuse issues, I think I did pretty well. Again, I was clean from street drugs from last year before the baby was concieved so I didn't stop because of him. I was changing for me, because I was tired of living how I had been.

Before I discovered I was pregnant, things were on the up, but now, its even better. Relationships have changed dramatically; my mum and I get on amazing. We were always close, but my behaviour made things fraught. Not any more. Same for my sister.

I am off out with my Momma to do some shopping, a little breath of fresh air before I have to return home and finish my essay. I have spent so much time indoors finishing off my work I think I am developing cabin fever!!! I kept on telling myself "just finish these essays, then you can RELAX!" but nope, once I am finished I have to decorate the flat, then put up the cot, sort out storage, get rid of some of my clothes, pack up my craft stuff and put it in the attic, finish baby shopping, pack a hospital bag, write my birth plan, decide whether to go to Bradford 24 days before my due date (afraid of going into labour there!!!).... people are telling me I should be enjoying some 'Me' time as its the last I'm gonna get of it, but I can't really, too much to do!

I'll write some more later, more baby stuff, me stuff etc. etc.

so much has happened... just a little snippet for the moment

It is 5am in the morning, I haven't been to sleep all night, but then I was at Aidans from Thursday so I slept weird hours. Slept all day yesterday and didn't wake up till 9pm, so technically, why would I have needed to bed down? I just done it really to not make any noise to wake my sister or her son, Louis (the twins are at a sleepover). I slept in the girls room and watched "The House Of Sand And Fog" starring Ben Kingsley & Jennifer Connelly. I was going through my sisters DVDs and I had never heard of it, but she assured me it was good. I took it upstairs after we watched 127 hours, about the climber Aron Lee Ralston who got his arm stuck under a dislodged bolder for precisely that long, becoming free only after he had been forced to amputate his lower arm. I remember originally reading that article in the paper and wondering how the hell you could bring yourself to do something like that; I think I would just give up. But you never know until you are put there I suppose- there is nothing more scary than death to most people, so the amputation would be the better option. I tried to sleep, or send myself to sleep by reading but it didn't work, and because I had been without the internet for days I went on that, then I tried the film. Had me glued, I really recommend it. Also had me crying to at the end, which I seldom ever do (cry, that is) EVER. I'd left the curtains open and watched the sun come up in the background.

Lots has happened, I have had 3 scans now and the last one took an extremely long time, as it was done by a specialist. It was in 4d and was to check for any problems etc. indepth as obviously, I've been running about for 6months not knowing I was carrying this little child inside of me. Just by the grace of god, before his conception I had just got my life together, I had come out of hospital where I had had that op and I started to really tire of way things had been for the past 5+ years; which meant no drug usage. So that is one thing the boy hasn't been subjected to, luckily. I am starting to think it was because I stopped using that I managed to become pregnant. I hadn't had a period in years upon years, literally, since I was around 17 or 18 max. So was I just about to, but one of my eggs found a snug cozy lining and inbedded itself in there just by sheer, sheer chance? I have never been pregnant before, and my gp was pretty sure I would not ever get pregnant, hence why they never linked my symptoms (chronic sickness; at least a few times a day, ten+ times at its worse, weight gain, stomach area enlarging which was thought to be fluid retention and swelling of my liver) to that possibilty. I got given a little biology lesson and my midwife told me how once released, an egg only survives for 12-24 hours. So considering I only slept with the Dad once in that month, thats sheer luck (bad or good; you decide. i thought it was bad at first, but cut me some slack, i was told i was to be a mum in less than 3 months). I go again this Thursday. I went last Thursday, the 2nd, which was the scan in 4d with the specialist and one thing of slight concern popped up, though they didn't make a huge fuss about it, and my momma, who was a midwifery student about 6 years ago but has now returned to work as a general Nurse visiting people at home who cannot make it out e.g cancer patients in their last days, folks who have been in very bad accidents and cannot get to the doctors as its too painful/difficuilt etc. etc., didn't either- and she medically, has more experience than I and would have understood it a lot better. So if it didn't alarm her too much, I could gauge from that that I shouldn't either, yet. This is what is up... the third scan showed that he had not grown, and abdominally he had actually decreased in mass. These were 3 scans 7 days apart each. Obviously, this instantly made my stomach lurch, and the happiness I felt at him telling me throughout the scan my baby was appearing perfectly formed and without abnormalities, disappeared as quick as it came. He told me not to worry. Not to worry? You have just told me my baby hasn't grown since last week, and has infact, decreased in size round his waist!!! He told me though, there was probably a good reason for this, so I should chill. The baby was lying in a really awkard position (like he has done EVERY time. the sonographers have got me to thrust my hips, jump up and down, wiggle but he wont move!) so he needed to do an internal scan (a transvaginal- hey, this is pregnancy & childbirth... leave your dignity at the door! lots of probing, poking, etc. to ensure a healthy baby is carried and delivered). This scan which lasted near to the hour was done internally as opposed to the "normal" way you see it done with jelly on the belly. He told me that an internal tends to be much, much more accurate than your basic ultrasound. So he thinks that chances are, he has just had much more time to measure the baby, in lots of different angles and has the measurements correct to the T, whereas the others were off a bit. I hope so. I'm praying. I thought two weeks, I have to wait two weeks!?!? but obviously, there was no point in me returning in a day or so or a week because he wouldn't have grown or god forbid, not, enough for them to realise if its a) or b). I spent the first 3 or 4 days after worrying myself sick, then I thought, come on relax, focus on positive things, because I couldn't see myself lasting for 2 weeks like that. To distract myself I tried my essays & projects, that I have less than a month to finish- pressure! Then tidied and cleaned my house, its a one bedroom flat and I shall be living in it for the foreseable future, then looked at baby essentials I need and tried to plan out my finances a bit better. Then, to cheer myself up, I went to Aidans where like two weeks previously, I spent the time with him doing nothing but giggling and giggling. He told me I was one of the funniest people he had ever met, and I agreed that it was the same for me with him. By far he takes the funniest male crown, my sister the female. I find it fantastic I feel so laid-back with him and we have the same taste in films, shows etc. and we have seen a lot of the same stuff. Basically, he appreciates the things I appreciate and since I'm pretty diverse and odd when it comes to humour and what I find amusing, its unusual to find a match. A match in humours? Is that what you call it? It's great with him, I'm glad I did lose touch with him for a while as I wouldn't of liked to have seen him in the state I was in. No. Way. So happy I have got back in touch with him and picked up where we left off with our friendship. I'm used to having friends that are purely there for their own benefit, and nowhere to be seen when one is really needed. He is an exception to that, by far. Bless him. Not many people would give up their home to a waif and stray undergoing a detox, but he did. And I can't express my apprecation enough. I was thinking of having my sons middle name as 'Aidan' but nothing is set in stone yet.

4 weeks and 2 days without a drink so far. I really don't know how I have done it, I think the first reaction of a "Normal" person, let alone a drug addict, upon hearing the news you are 6months gone would be to have a stiff drink or at least, really really crave one. I have been by myself a lot of the time and have not had the slightest urge to buy a drink. I have eaten lunch out with others drinking, and have not once craved alcohol. I am not gloating to anyone else with alcohol problems, as its not easy at all to do, I am not advocating getting pregnant to stop yourself drinking, because I know a lot of people who carry on regardless... just what with all this stuff I need to sort out in less than 3 months, the last thing I need is to be battling drink cravings. Luckily, they have been completely obsolete. I always knew alcohol made worse my anxiety & depression, but I never really realised to what extent until I stopped. I am much, dare I say it... better? I'm wondering, is this how I will always feel if I stay off alcohol, is this how it is sober? Because I am told pregnancy does some crazy things to your mind, and I'm starting to wonder whether I'm on a mad crazy happy high that will suddenly disappear after the birth. I hope not. But even if it were, I am glad for the reprieve.

So, it is now 8am and I can hear the Louis is awake. 15 months he now is, and he is starting to really chatter away. He is absolutely obsessed with cars! And expresses this by repeating the word over and over and enthusiastically ripping up the motoring sections of the daily newspapers, getting rid of the text so he can be left clutching images of various motors. I am so happy I am having a little boy. Not sure why, as I never wanted kids or thought about having them, so I never even went over the thought in my head as to what sex would I like my children to be should I ever have them. Anyway, I will leave you with this scary picture; the specialist who done my 4d scan printed off about 30 pictures and he pulled off this one and said I could have that one as "it wasn't that good, so he didn't need it". Oh, I thought. You have to pay for the 4d scans and subsequent videos and photos (to my knowledge the hospital don't do it, its independant places, i think they use 4d strictly for medical need only, not just freely as an extra) so I am suprised I got one really, as they are used for medical reports and notes. It wasn't clear enough to be used in said notes, and as case studies are used for practise, revision and to teach future medical practitioners, it was surplus to requirements- so I got it. It was a bad one, looking up from under the babies chin. It looks quite scary, and it looks as if he has a massive massive pair of lips if you look :) hehe. I can assure you he doesn't, look again, and you will see his top lip and find it is normal, but its hard to make out anything bar the nose and yes (again, its taken from an underneath angle so its not great). Oh well. I got to see him on screen for a while again. My momma was there, and the position I was in 2/3s of the time meant it was only her that got to look. She has twin grandchildren, and a grandson but this is the first time she got to see them on a 4d scan. Things are great with me momma and I these days, our relationship is wonderful.

P.S the reason I wanted to write a post was because of something I was thinking about in the early hours as the sun came up. and i totally forgot to write it. maybe thats a good thing, as it means it disappeared from the forefront of my mind where it was getting at me. as i was lying on the bed, unable to sleep, i got my skin doctors pregnancy cream and started massaging it into my tummy. after i have done that, i leave my tummy out while the cream absorbs so it doesn't get on my pjs. i felt the boy start kicking and i looked down... i was captivated, because he was moving and i could visably see it. watching him go from one spot to another, it reminded me of a waterbed and what one looks like when its moving once you have gotten off it. my momma told me she remembers sitting in the bath watching me move from one side to the other, that was at about 8 and a half months, so i didn't expect it this early. it was lovely, and so... weird. i must have watched him move about for about 20 minutes. and then, i got sad. i got sad that carl doesn't appear to give a damn. he stayed in touch after i told him, and we txt one another daily, but it was i who initiated it. i was kind of, making sure he was involved early on so there is a better chance of him being there for his son later on. he never responded straight away, like I would. he would leave it hours and the responses were so strained, like he was really put out at having to do so. he knows the situation with the baby, and how i find out whether he is ok this thursday. i doubt i will hear from him before then. i know it must have been a shock for him too, and i can't say how he will be until after he is born, as who knows- it may change him completely. but from what i gather, this hasnt been the major turning point he needs to get his life together. I know its different for the woman, as she carries the baby, and I had no option but to stop drinking and get my life together (well i did, but not if i wanted to keep this baby and raise him as best as i possibly could), and maybe he will see the boy and it will make him want to change himself too. He hasn't asked about his birth (e.g when he can come to see him, names, how we will share his care) and anything after that. His parents know, and they are nice people, they love their 2 existing grandkids to death, but will it be different with mine as the existing 2 belong to their daughters, this is their sons child. I said to him I don't want any money, thats not the reason I contacted him. I just have this nasty feeling he will carry on using drugs (he said he only occasionally uses but I suspect thats because he runs out of money, not because he is able to ration... but i might be wrong. Though my gut feeling suggests he will carry on leeching off his parents, letting them (well more his mum) baby him and not giving two hoots about his son aslong as he gets his drugs. I just envisage my son waiting for his dad by the window, and him not showing up, frequently or being late and obviously under the influence thus starting an argument as I refuse to let him take him. He has no desire to change I don't think, and why would he when his parents provide him with money, a place to live in the form of his own flat, bail him out constantly and let him steal off them/pawn their possessions and NEVER ringing the police. Oh and they buy him his cars, and pay for them to be on the road, thus giving him transport to get said drugs, and transport their possessions in to take to the pawn shop etc. etc. I felt sad that he was missing out on the little things (such as seeing him move about on the inside/outside.) Not in a romantic way, GOD NO, in a father way, its sad he is missing it. Missing out. Or perhaps its more sadness for my son. And perhaps I am jumping the gun. Anyway, for the lack of him, there are many other people that are witnessing it.... Aidan, Momma, Tim, my sister, grandparents etc. etc. This baby has a lot of people to love him. Already he is one lucky boy.

6 months pregnant

my doctor said my constant 24/7 sickness was my stomach ulcer....


and the swollen belly my liver damage from alcohol, which was also causing the rapid weight gain.....

but i learnt on the 12.5.11 that i was actually 6 months pregnant (at least)

i have another scan tomorrow, that will confirm exactly the age. everything appeared normal, no abnormalities, thank god. size is good, accurate to the date, but it could have been concieved even earlier and the baby is undersized for its gestation, but the nurse was pretty confident it was not the case. i have completed an alcohol detox, have not drunk a single drop for 11days and believe it or not have no intention to.

i was so shocked when i found out. i had not been with anybody since i split with the dad last year, until April this year. the gp, the midwifes etc. all done examinations before the scans and could feel absolutely nothing, and couldn't locate a heart beat (which the baby doesnt start having until 8 weeks i think) even blood tests, where the hCG hormone levels can determin how far gone you are said i was 4 or 5 weeks. i was so happy, that it wasn't the bastards, whom i cannot call that now. civil. must be civil. my sister came with me to the scan, and i just had a feeling that with my luck, i would have the violent, drug-addicted thief for the dad. and so i did. when she said 25 weeks, i was stunned. i just stared at the ceiling and couldnt comprehend a thing. i was so stunned. when you listen to a gp, who weighs you weekly, tells you you wont concieve with no periods... you dont think pregnancy will happen. i had no idea. they asked if i wanted to know if it were a boy or not, i couldn't speak, my sister did for me but even she could tell it was a boy already as they had switched to a 4D scan. usually, you have to pay for that, but I think the lady scanner was worried i was lacking maternal feelings and wanted to envoke some by showing more than just the grainy black and white images i got above. I was worried I had no maternal feelings, but now I know I do, because I would never have given up alcohol for anyone or anything. But it was as easy as pie. I even had alcohol in the house, went to eat in pubs with my mother (we saw the monkees at the albert hall in london on the 19th, and it was the first time i had had fun sober for years) and just totally resisted and didnt crave a drop. i hope no damage has been done. i pray. and pray. and pray.

i told the dad. i thought he had a right to know. and his parents and both sets of his grandparents. has he bothered? no. he didnt even ask how i was, and i was in hospital as i hadnt felt the baby move for days and his heartbeat was extremely low, and i was in there for about 8 hours being monitored. did he ask, care? no. i sent him the scan pictures and he hasn't even looked at them yet. i got so depressed yesterday, i just couldn't comprehend how he couldn't care about his son. i have this scan tomorrow, and it will show any problems, and he says he cannot come "his car is in the garage". aidan is going with me. im cringing at the thought of them going "oh, is this the father?" and me having to say "ummm.... no," but i need the support. sad isn't it, the babies own father cares not an iota, yet some other bloke does.

so yes, my son, estimated to be born 24.8.11 oddly, the day my dad was found dead. well not that odd, there was a 1 in 365 chance! just what to call him? what goes with CAVE. I love Carson. Everyone I know hates it.

I am going to be a mother in less than 3 months *pinch*

odd. old aidan friend. life.

when i was 17 years old, i was nothing but an innocent young kid, that had had no more than a little innocent fumbling. one day, i was coming back from college, and i stopped into asda at this mini shopping complex called the beehive (the only remotely insect like thing about it being a steel HIVE sculpture in the middle) to get some soya milk. as i was walking out listening to NIN CLOSER this geeza apprehended me and tugged my earphones and put one in, proclaiming to love the beat or something.... didn't care for that, no, he told me what lovely eyes I had. being a little 17 year old twerp with no self-esteem i was overwhelmed by his niceness. a couple of weeks later, as he lived but about 10 mins from me at the time, i bumped into him again on mill road. we talked, and he asked how old i was. as he was 27, and i 17 he proclaimed to say i was too young which naturally I thought outrageous!!! you never can tell a teenager they are too young. boy was i pissed. but again... i bumped into him later on and well, my immaturity obviously didnt exist or maybe he was just a major perve who didn't care! no, he was not the latter, i was a very grown up teen. but yeah, so he eventually gave me a chance to talk to him properly. not before long, i went round his, and i had sex with him. this was my first ever actual sexual partner. before i had fumbled as you call it, with the crappy attempts at handjobs and whatnot. i wondered if he actually ever believed me. i just kind of let him take the lead.... and in between meeting up with him again id embarrasingly type into google "how to give a blow job" or "how to have sex". lets just say, i shared a computer with my mum so one day she was typing in "how to..." and a multitude of sexual acts appeared. luckily, i had a liberal mum. hell, i wasn't 13, i was 17, i guess she was relieved i hadn't been having sex as a kid and got up the duff or something. anyway.... am i the only person who got to have sex with somebody first time round and they actually were really good and respectful etc. etc. however, i started getting into heroin big time. he would come over and i would be puffing away on heroin, and i dont know how ( i am going to ask him) i just lost touch. i have changed my number like 7 times a year due to my phone getting stolen etc. etc. but he maintained the same one. my mum had it on her phone so sporadically i have sent a txt to him. i sent one a few months ago promising to get in touch and see him. i didnt because i am a cunt. but he text me last week, and i said I WILL see you. and i kept that promise. i went round and saw him friday, and left sunday. it was a really happy time. i told him, admitted everything that had gone on during my heroin addiction as he wasnt there to see an iota of it. if he had, he wouldnt be talking to me now. i should have probably lied and said id had a wicked easy life but hey, thats not what friends do. i feel a bit selfish, i just went on and on about myself. oh well, im sure he doesn't mind. it was so nice to meet him again, because he is like a male version of me (in the sense he understands what it is like to not fit in with society and the general population- he doesnt try to top himself or swallow bits of glass or bleach or anything- at least i dont think). it made me happy to see him. very happy. i am never happy. oh, now i've said that, i remember im not. i was with him until sunday afternoon, this morning, monday am 4am i got up and was vomitting so badly for about an hour, obviously all the bile and crap was up within 5 or so minutes, and the rest i was just retching and retching, spit that was basically blood. it scared the shit out of me because towards the end i just couldnt stand up anymore and had to lie on the floor, i couldnt lean up into the toilet so i just let myself vomit down the side of my cheek, and let it roll onto the floor. pure fresh blood. now my back hurts so much i cant sleep. its 1:08am and thats fine, not late but i cant get comfy, im kneeling on the floor typing on this for some relief. i just feel so ill. i have a lot of tablets, but tablets are risky. the only guarantee is a noose. and train tracks. i am so sick and tired, its going to take so much to get through the next few hours, im not sure about the day, or the week. i have totally had enough. as much as i was happy to see my friend, its just made me realise barely anybody is understanding like him. im going to do a spot of self-harming; im going to now slash my feet and neck (not the jugular, this is not suicide or an attempt) and then go to sleep. ill be happy then. or content, or whatever. im just bored. sad isn't it, most people my age would get off going out and pulling somebody, having sex, an orgasm, a big bar of chocolate, a fight... i just dont get any of those nice sensations unless its at my own expense. 21st century spoilt 20-summits, eh? dump us in an african ghetto and then see how much we hate our lives.

stomach ulcers & knowing heroin will make it hurt less

Urgh, junk sickness- that is, for all non-junkies (you lucky lucky things- never touch opiates they are not cool, romantic, glamourous... unless you find sucking off hideous fat old men in their cars down a backalley all the previous) the illness you suffer when you body is in withdrawal from heroin... well, it is curable if you manage to get the money and score more heroin. Whereas, this stomach ulcer, and the constant vomitting every morning, is not curable. There is nothing I can do for it. I stopped drinking for a bit, and I was still sick. Annoying thing is, I am not losing any weight. You expect to lose weight, well, no, you don't if you are back drinking AND taking vitamin drinks to replace lost nutrients. My teeth bother me also. They must be getting a right acid bath. Poor buggers. Filling-less, perfect. Not for long, even on sugar free methadone I am sure.

My momma took me to IKEA on Friday, I had never been there before. I got a load of shit, about £500 worth and we couldn't lift it, so I got shipping. When I gave them my postcode they thought "ding ding ding! posh cambridge people!" WRONG! quoted me £140, and when i said WHAT?! they downed it to £85. ok? no, because i get home to find out my sister got it for £35! Anyway, i needed a bit of bedroom furniture so now i have it. it gets here tomorrow.

Today I met my momma after work and she dropped me on Mill Road as she waited opposite the bank. I used her card (my Visa as its a student account- well, not anymore, but was, and it had a maximum £250 withdrawal limit per day from a ATM, which still is the case as I haven't changed it) so I had to whack £350 in her bank, plus another £150 tomorrow morning. As I was standing there in the massive queue, I saw opposite the toilets (the public ones, where you pay 20p to take a piss, or hit up... and the junkie code means you always leave the door propped open so a dopesick addict can use it after you if they dont have the means to get in and passers by wont donate a 20p piece). and next to that the mental health centre i worked at during my school work experience when everyone else went to sweep hair off a barbers floor or work in a corner shop, was the public phone boxes. Used to be 4, now there are two. I saw four shady figures I knew/know walk up to it and deposit how much it takes to make a public phone box call these days (60p?) talk, and begin striding off with great purpose.

I cannot say I was jealous, or wanting to join them. Ever since I got clean, man, I have nearly 3K saved up already, just since November, but I wanted to just go over and ask them if the heroin drought was over. Why? I don't know, not like I was going to buy any.

Was I?
I don't know. No, my mum was in the car opposite. Im just going to stay away, I don't talk to anyone anymore. I just hate all these programmes on TV, documentaries about heroin.... it was my only friend in the world. Well obviously, it wasn't, its a bloody powder. But it got me through tough times. Now all I have is booze, that causes me to puke up blood and bile each morning.

Life, ain't it beautiful.

Career Burglar Gets Two-and-a-half Years In Jail

http://www.cambridge-news.co.uk/Home/Career-burglar-gets-two-and-a-half-years-in-jail.htm

Burglary was Anthony Gawthrop’s career and he was a hard worker, with a CV boasting loot worth more than £130,000 from 114 raids.

The 25-year-old, who said the only thing he was good at was breaking into other people’s homes, was targeting almost one property a week for much of 2010.

But the seven-year spree across the Cambridge area came to an end after Gawthrop tried to sell a pilfered car to an undercover police officer and left his mobile phone at a victim’s address.

Yesterday, Gawthrop was jailed for two-and-a-half years at the city’s Crown court.

Judge Gareth Hawkes¬worth branded him a "professional and prolific house burglar" but halved the expected term of five years after agreeing there were "very exceptional circumstances" in the case.

The court heard the thief genuinely wanted to put his past behind him and had beaten his drug addiction.

Gawthrop, of Arran Close, Cherry Hinton, pleaded guilty to two counts of burglary, and asked for a further 112 to be taken into considera¬tion.

The earliest of these dated to 2003 and 38 happened last year.

He admitted one charge of attempted burglary, and owned up to a further 10 – plus cannabis possession.

Gawthrop was already infamous for vaulting out of the Crown court dock in 2005 and since then had received two jail terms, each of three-and-a-half years, for numerous burglaries and cocaine supply.

John Farmer, prosecuting, said the first of the latest burglary charges dated to April 28 last year, when Gawthrop was one of three intruders who broke into an empty house in Longstanton and made off with swag valued at £3,200, plus two cars, valued at £21,500.

While the raid was in progress one of Gawthrop’s accomplices’ called a police officer who was working undercover and offered to sell him one of the cars, a Nissan valued at £10,000 – and the deal was done for £400 in Milton just minutes later.

Gawthrop was not arrested at this stage to allow the undercover operation to continue and he struck again on June 9, when he was caught red-handed trying to break into a house in Bar Hill with two co-conspirators after a neighbour dialled 999.

Then, on August 28, the home of a Polish family on Minerva Way in Cambridge was broken into, and a laptop computer and mobile phone were stolen.

But Gawthrop left his phone behind, with pictures of himself on.

Mr Farmer said the total value of the goods stolen, including in the offences taken into consideration, was around £130,000, but because the value of items is often not recorded, the real total is likely to be much higher.

Mr Farmer said: "The upshot is pretty well an average in 2010 of one a week."

Georgina Gibbs, mitigating, said Gawthrop had had started committing crime at the age of 10 but had beaten drugs, hoped to move away from Cambridge with his long-term partner, and had a job lined up.

She said: "He describes himself as only being good at one thing, namely burglary, but he was good at it and he started a career in that line of work."

Afterwards, Det Chief Insp Chris Mead, who led the police operation, said Gawthrop’s assistance would help burglary prevention advice to be improved.

safe routes around town

pinkpressthreat; geographically, there are certain routes i would always take to ensure maximum visability to other users while on the way to 'the scene' where they would all gather. it was important to bump into others to get the low-down on gear, what was happening, who was looking for you (in a good/bad way depending on what you had done) etc. etc. there are certain areas i now avoid like the plague, but unfortunately it cannot always be done and if i have to pass through, i have to pass through, but i never even linger long enough to tie my shoelaces for fear of bumping into somebody. places where 'we' (that seems to imply unity, a group of friends, a collective... but we weren't, or if we were, it was simply drink & drugs that had brought us together and as little as not paying back somebody £1 for a can of beer was enough to tear you apart) would go included some of the busiest green spaces in Cambridge. These were, and still are, popular with students, 20, 30, 40, 50-somethings eating al-fresco on their lunchbreaks or having picnics at the weekends with their friends- basically, it's for everyone and used by everyone. my friends from college go here, my other friends from outside the heroin scene go here, but i can't bring myself to with them, for fear of bumping into old faces. I cannot be bothered, and one person has a real big problem with me, although she is in her late 40s, a mother and I have never ever done a thing to her. its really odd. people have suggested jealousy before and i wonder if it is. its not unusual for certain people in the same situation as you drug addiction wise to envy you for every little thing you seem to have more than them. judging by the way she used to slate my drug-free, professional mum i think she was just very jealous of the family i had. she had never met my family, yet seemed to revel in telling me how awful she thought they were. and you know how it is; you can slate your family, but when it comes to somebody else doing it- its a no-no!

i go through the town centre quite a lot, taking my twin nieces + nephew out, if i need to go shopping or meet a pal and i pass regularly the old faces. in our town centre, which has two shopping malls seperated by a green space, there is one hostel right on its doorstep. another major one housing many, many people is but 15 minutes outside of the town centre, and its residents tend to congregate in the main part of town, begging, boozing with mates, shoplifting to earn money... that kind of thing. i say hello to the people i knew "well" which is actually, not that much. i never developed a deep friendship with anybody, i was just taken advantage of all the time and i was so naive, believing i would definately get back that bag as it was my last one and they wouldn't leave me in the lurch like that, would they? if im in a rush, i just rush past, but if i clock eyes with anyone i know, i never ignore; i smile or say hi. however, just recently, i have been getting a lot of comments as i have passed "stuck up bitch", "she thinks she is too good for us does she" and my personal favourite "once a junkie whore, always a junkie whore". i love the way once you are a girl, slag, whore & slut immediately are paired with another insult to produce a really, extra-hurtful one. i am not stuck up, or too good for anyone. i just cannot cope with being around heroin and crack as its still really raw to me. people don't seem to get this. i got smacked in the face last year for being "stuck up" when i never even saw the person, just whacked for no reason. some of these people are really angry, and bitter and when they get drunk they start on anyone, including their closest "friends". its really out of order, so i just want to stay out of the way as much as possible. why would i want to get into a fight when i am trying to get a job in probation or with young offenders? any conviction for violence etc. and my career prospects would be in tatters. all i know is, whenever i saw anybody get clean, i wasn't jealous to the point i resented them doing the best thing they could possibly do. i was actually glad for them. oh well, hopefully the longer i go, the more people will forget me.

also, pinkpressthreat, i have the BEST knowledge of toilet facilities in Cambridge. people are usually astounded when i give them the rundown of the most local bathrooms in catagories from miles away, cleanliness to peacefullness and whether there is always loo-roll & soap or basins in the cubicles.

Response to Gledwood

I will look further into Psychodynamic counselling. Hopefully, they will have it on offer here. I was in full-time outpatient care from 13-17 but at 17 Cambridgeshire Primary Care Trust made major cuts to mental health funding and closed down its Young Peoples Psychiatric Service among other things. It was devestating. Any correlation between me suddenly going from having support to zero and plunging into a world so dark and murky and unsafe that I am surpised I lived to tell the tale. I nearly didn't, at both my hands and somebody who now has the perk of an indefinate jail term.
MEN... I was a late starter and only had a boyfriend once, nothing even serious. I called him that, but he wasn't. Not really. Some would disagree but I believe you cannot seriously romantically love and have a relationship with somebody else while on heroin and entrenched in the lifestyle. Or at least I'm speaking for people my age. It's impossible. Impossible. I never, ever could beg. I just couldn't. I'd lived in this town all my life, was too well-known, but most of all, I didn't have the guts to do it- and some say the looks. I didn't look "down and out" enough, apparently. Don't get me wrong, I did at times, but then I would hide indoors or in the shadows.

Peoples jaws drop when I say I am a heroin addict. It is beyond most people to come face to face with a junkie or a smack head, a skag head & a crack head and find that they haven't been able to detect it already. It is not how I look, or dress, it is my manners, my intelligence, my kindness, morals & scruples... most cannot seem to comprehend somebody like "that" could possess such things. That and when they think of junkies, immediately the stereotypical physical characteristics spring to mind- if you don't match them, they seem to think you didn't have "that much of a problem" and "it couldn't have been THAT bad" still, interestingly, they begin to more tightly hold their purses against their sides and check their phones are still about their person etc. etc. It is done "discreetly" but because I am so used to it, I see it, no matter how small their movements are. What makes it all the MORE ironic is, I have NEVER EVER EVER mugged anybody, stole from my family friends or stranger, or dealt in stolen goods. I know my family members pin numbers for their debit & credit cards, know where they keep their cash... but no, I just couldn't do it to them. Still people think the potential is there. The potential was there for me to get money at my expense, not my family & friends.
My so-called mates who are users have stolen my laptop, my sewing machine, my digital camera, money, mobile phone and sold me fake heroin or cut the bag and given me a .1 for a £20 (over 8 years, not recently!!) I could never do that to them, I learnt quick this game wasn't me, but I kept on thinking if I afforded people the trust and kindness I never was they would change. NEVER DID HAPPEN THOUGH.

Yes, heroin WAS CHEAPER. I used to when I first started take 3 x £20 a day which were a .6 at the very least. People would drive down from London, sell 2 for £35 or 3 for £50. It was usually excellent quality in those days, consistently good from the london lads. Recently, its all over the place, in the past year that is. You could never count on good stuff, but you could so-so to practically crap stuff. Its changed now. Has it got back to normal British people? I wouldn't actually know, haven't spoke to my old heroin pals about exactly what made us pals in the first place (and only thing really). Once it does come back, we are so starved it will be sky high and we will pay for it.