Chicken Soup

Gosling, my girlchild, is 17 months old. It seems like only yesterday that I was told her heartrate was far too low (I originally thought the monitor was picking up me, because her heartrate was about 70bpm), and I needed a c-section NOW. They never used the word 'emergency', but not counting my husband, my son, and myself, there were about 15 people in that room hovering over the heart rate monitor, and muttering quietly amongst themselves as I changed into the hospital gown.

Critter, at 4-and-a-half didn't know what was going on, but he picked up on our stress and fear, and wouldn't stop crying. I wouldn't allow myself to cry, not in front of so many doctors, not in front of my already terrified son, but I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. My husband looked, if possible, even more scared than he did after Critter was born, and I lost so much blood that you literally couldn't see the colour difference between my face and my lips.

A few hours after her over-dramatic entrance into the world.

Apparently, the sprog likes to play tricks. She started yelling as soon as she was out, and I heard a very surprised "good set of lungs" from one of the multitudes of doctors, midwives, and anaesthetists standing at the ready should anything go awry. She was pink, and alert, and round as a pumpkin, and her APGAR was 9. They did all sorts of tests, on cord blood, and placenta, and uterine walls, and never could figure out what happened. Apart from an ear that looks like its had an earring ripped through it (it hasn't, she was born like that), my girl was perfect (if a little smaller than I remembered babies being).

The not-normal ear. As well as a bifurcated earlobe, the top is pointy. Her other ear is perfectly normal. She is certainly asymmetrical.

She has remained, in all ways, a perfectly normal child. She started crawling later than critter did, and walking, but still well within the normal range. She said her first word - her brother's name - at about 9 months, and is slowly picking up more recognisable words to go with the constant babbling.

Very pleased with the new-found mobility crawling gives, at 10months.

She has remained beautifully round (her upper arms are about the same size as her brother's - and he'll be 6 in two months), despite her charts saying she is at the low end of her age's weight range, and she looks like she's going to be tall like the rest of us. She also has the funniest spiral belly-button I've ever seen.

Come on. Tell me thats not adorable.

She 'helps' be with everything, handing me pegs when I hang out the washing, and random utensils when I'm cooking dinner, and if I clean up a mess from the floor without giving her a rag to help, she sits down and cries.

She steals my favourite scarf and tries to wrap it around her shoulders, walking around the house looking like an apple-green ghost with it draped over her head.

OOOOH!!!!! Its a green ghosty!

She will spend surprising amounts of time putting her dollies and teddies and bunnies and chickens in the doll cradle, patting them, rocking them, and then taking them out to put a fresh dolly/teddy/bunny/chicken in.

It's hard to believe how much my urgent c-section squalling pink girl has grown in the past 17months. A few weeks ago (or a few months? I never was good at keeping up with the passage of time) I started letting her use a spoon to feed herself. Now, she gets upset if I give her food without a spoon. Even if its toast. She's got really good with her spoon, and the only things that she still gets fed are yoghurt, and chicken soup.

Until today.

Today, I gave her a bowl *cough*ramekin*cough* of soup and a spoon, and she ate it all. Granted, I gave her mostly the lumps, with very little of the broth, and yes, her shirt was quite wet when she was done, but she did it. She ate a bowl of soup by herself, without help.

Watching your children grow into independent people is one the best feelings ever. But I think I'd like to keep her dependent for a little longer please.