LittleWarthog

So I could post about global political affairs.... or my vegetable garden.... or the book I'm reading... or maybe I could just share Felix's first smile on camera:

Today, right now, right at this very moment.... I feel fabulous.  I am typing with vigour and energy.  My thoughts are momentarily in sequence and my brain isn't stumbling mentally from one word to another.  I can finish sentences!

Sleep is a marvelous thing.  For the past three nights, Felix has slept until 2am, gone down swiftly after feeds, and then slept for another few hours before waking again for his first morning feed.  What a gift!   Sleep deprivation is so horridly powerful that simply getting a few extra hours under my belt makes a huge difference.  I even went to the theatre last night!  (Admittedly the play started at 6.30pm and I was home by 9.15pm, but still, it was awesome to have the energy to accept my friend's generous offer of a free ticket.  To all Brisbanites reading this, Toy Symphony is completely fabulous. At Cremorne Theatre until 12 Dec.)

I think one of the reasons behind Felix's masterful sleeping ability is the fact that we've started swaddling him.  Last week I came home to discover some homebaked goodies and a book on settling babies on our doorstep.  Who did this remains a mystery.  (If it was you, oh wonderful friend, please reveal yourself!)  Despite being written by a rather patronising American paediatrician, the book has some useful tips and tricks on settling bubs, including swaddling when they sleep.  We were swaddle sceptics (tried and failed) - but, fingers crossed, it now seems to be working. 

Sleep aside, our little man is also good on other fronts.  He's fattening up nicely and now weighs about 5kg, putting him in the 75th percentile for weight.  He's also grown 2cm in length and increased his head circumference by 3cm since birth.  We're also starting to receive a few smiles which is just so deliciously heart-melting.

Crikey.  I sound like a complete Baby Head!  Seriously, I am hip-swaying in public and talking in goo goo voices a lot.  Hmmm, next post I will try and reclaim some non-bub territory... perhaps...

My my, how time flies.  Something to do with my day being carved up into piecemeal time portions,  That... and good old sleep deprivation.

Everything is going well in baby land.  Felix has discovered his lungs, and we are a few steps behind trying to work out which cry means what.  It all feels like some sort of mysterious guessing game: we're totally clueless but enjoying the mystery in a very unanchored kinda way!  He cries loudly, sleeps solidly and feeds like a monster - all signs that we're on track, right? 

On the worry front, I thought I would be far more anxious about SIDS; I had that in my mind as a looming fear.  But I'm not!  We're following the safe sleeping guidelines and Felix sleeps in a bassinet next to me in the bed.  I go to sleep hearing his coos and baby grunts, and know that there's nothing more we can do to create a safe sleep environment.  So in that sense, there's nothing for me to worry about.  A huge relief :)

Later this week Dave and I are taking Felix for a growth and wellness check-up.  I hope to be pleasantly surprised by some decent weight gain - surely some of his munching and gulping is sticking to the sides? 

I'm about to add some more pix on the facebook site.  Meanwhile, here's one of Dave's favourites (with me conked out in the background, trying to get some sleep)

Hey there everyone!  Felix Harry Copeman is my name, and I seem to be doing a good job at making people love me... 


Aaaaaah.  Dave and I have been home for almost a week, getting to know our little man and slowly showing him off to friends and family.  So far everything has been going pretty well - breastfeeding seems to have started ok, and we're gradually adjusting to the lack of sleep (I think... it's only day 7!)

There are plenty of photos (mainly from the hospital) on facebook, which you can see here. 

Labour was 7 hours from when they broke my waters.  Despite all the criticism out there about medical inductions, for me the pain was no worse - in fact, it was significantly less because Felix was lying in an anterior position, not posterior like Mazhira.  Second stage was only 10 minutes! 

Today we had our first outing in the real world: breakfast in West End, a meet 'n' greet with Dave's workmates and a nice long walk around the Southbank precinct and over the new Kurilpa bridge.  I pulled off my first public breastfeed without too much fuss and Dave mastered his first public nappy change (on the front seat of the car!)

So yes, fierce little Felix is pressing all our love buttons right now.  I've never stared at someone's face for so long and with so much awestruck wonder.  Must go.  Nappy change awaits....

3.73 kg, 54 cm, an adorable bundle of baby perfection. Born 2 hours ago, at hospital, so this is quick. Dave and I are out of our minds with love and happiness. More news soon.

About 4 days ago I caught a fairly bad throat infection, zapping me of energy and making me feel quite sluggish and sorry for myself.  I'm slowly on the mend now which is good.  Last week's dust storm and residual particle-filled air didn't help... *cough, splutter, nose blow* 

So, it was a wonderful surprise to drag myself to the computer this morning, open my inbox and find it filled with loving emails from around the globe.  Thank you x 100 - Dave and I are definitely feelin' the love at the moment, both from our immediate families and friends here in Brisbane, and those of you far away.  It means a lot.  It is certainly helping me to keep my head together. 

A few notable things to report since my last post: 

• A's baby arrived!  Little baby girl Zuri, born on the day of the dust storm.  Mum and bub are doing well.
• We have chooks!  3 hens in the backyard, although only one seems to be laying eggs - the other two are testing my patience by merely giving the impression of egg making (lots of clucking and shaking of tail feathers, but no eggs)
• Wanna guess what this is?

It's a humane possum trap.

Not long after moving back into our house, we realised we were sharing it with a very large possum. (She blew her cover by making lots of scratching and banging noises in the walls every day at about 5pm.)  Ms Possum had climbed into our walls through a hole in the floorboards under the bathroom - finding a perfectly dark, warm space to make her nest.  I'm sure she's the one responsible for eating my vegetable seedlings before we installed possum-proof netting. 

At close range, possums are cute, cuddly marsupials with big "love me forever" eyes - but don't be fooled!  I am a possum fan, but will readily admit they are also ferocious pests who make a lot of mess and noise.  Especially when they live in your walls.   And being a protected native species, their numbers in Brisbane are on the rise. 

Thanks to the generosity of our friendly roof insulation folk (who moonlight as possum catchers) - we managed to catch Ms Possum last night.  All it took was 1/2 an apple, the possum trap and lots of marsupial screeching.  Today she was relocated to nearby bushland and we now have our walls back.

How adorably grumpy is she?

Last week's membrane sweep was not the most pleasant of gynaecological experiences... but it did result in me having a 'show', which at the very least appealed to my fascination for all things gross and bodily.  If you're interested in learning more about 'shows' and 'sweeps' click here (NB not a link to the Melbourne Cup Horse race!) 

Today is sweep attempt #2.  If it doesn't work and nothing else happens next week, I'll be induced on Friday 2 Oct (bub's official due date).

I'm feeling trepidatious about labour.  Not about the pain per se, but about possible underlying connections between the pain and memories of Mazhira's birth.  I don't know if being in labour will trigger an emotional tsunami or not - and the uncertainty is the unsettling bit.  But given my hormones will no doubt be bouncing off the walls anyway, I may as well just go along for the ride and see where it takes me.

Today and tomorrow I'm going to carve out a bit of dedicated Mazhira time - make a new frame for her photo and little footprints, tidy up her headstone and plant some flowers on her grave.  I think that might help.

Oh yeah:
Me and my good mate A took this photo yesterday.  We're 1 week apart!  The race is on :)

I start a weekly course of having my "membranes swept" today*.... never had this before.  It sounds like a painful, rather awkward pap smear.  Apparently each procedure has about a 20% increased chance of spontaneously triggering labour within 48 hours.  Here goes nothin'.

*Also referred to as a 'strip and stretch', 'tickling of bits' or 'poking the privates'. 

The past few weeks have seen Dave and I frantically trying to get our house and garden sorted before bub's arrival.  Much of our efforts have involved moving furniture and crap from one spot to another (we've put up and dismantled 3 beds in as many weeks) - a little laborious perhaps...  but generally our place is now starting to look and feel less dumpish and more homey.

My dad has been helping every week - hanging curtain rods, installing kitchen shelves, and today adding the final touches to his masterpiece: a chook pen made largely from recycled materials (complete with egg nesting bays!)  Now all we need are hens!  I've managed to revive a very basic veggie garden, and we also recently built compost bays from recycled palettes.  

Some pix taken today (including a belly shot as I figured some of you would be interested in my enormous middle): 

Now that I'm well and truly into the home stretch for pregnancy #2 I'm giving up on the moratorium against mentioning anything to do with it. Denial days are over.  I'm officially into my 37th week (collective cheer!) and trying to keep my head together from here onwards. 

I've had a couple of anxiety-fuelled moments over the past two weeks.  The first was unwittingly eating a (very delicious, very large) piece of soft camembert cheese while on a lunch date with a fellow bereaved mum.  It was our first face-to-face meeting, and in my excitement I completely zoned out when making my food choice.  I was so distracted by our conversation that it never once occured to me that I was scoffing down something that, 8 months pregnant, I should probably be avoiding.

Back home I jumped online, googled 'listeriosis' and had a minor meltdown.  Listeriosis is bad news for unborn babies - something like 20% of bubs exposed to the bacteria are stillborn or have major health complications after birth.  Although the odds of my piece of cheese being bacteria-ridden were extremely low, this didn't stop me from thinking what a bloody idiot I was for exposing bub to the risk.  I could do nothing but curse myself for being so careless.

It just so happened that I had an antenatal appointment that afternoon with a very understanding obstetrician.  I told her about my gaff and that I was basically crapping my pants with worry, and asked if there was anything I could do to prevent a possible transmission of something that was, in all likelihood, not even in my system. (Pregnancy-logic really is rather ridiculous.)  Antibiotics, I asked?  Would that do the trick?

After checking with her superiors, she prescribed me a course of mild penicillin - I think for no other reason than to put my mind at ease. 3 days after starting the pills I developed a sore throat and head cold, which was a tad frustrating but I couldn't really complain given that it was entirely self-induced.

So that was freak out number 1.  Freak out number 2 involved me getting increasingly worried about reduced foetal movements.  Dave and I called the hospital and they suggested we come in for a check-up.  As soon as the midwife started putting the monitor on me I burst into tears - to which she responded by giving me a huge hug and sharing her own story of loss.  It was just what I needed: someone to look me in the eye and say that it wasn't going to get any easier, I just had to keep my head together. 

The other midwives on shift were also brilliant and really made us feel like we'd done the right thing by coming in.  Of course, as soon as bub heard the sound of his own heartbeat he started kicking like crazy!

So after all that - soft cheese, antibiotics and foetal heart monitoring - I'm now feeling much better.  Plus, our shipment of stuff just arrived (hoorah!) so I've become a little preoccupied with where to put our various pieces of oversized, kitsch-looking Ugandan furniture.  And in most recent news, bub's head is apparently 3/5 engaged and he's in an anterior position.  He's also rediscovered the art of kicking my bladder and rib cage, which is... lovely.  Let's hope it continues.

You can't tell me that global warming ain't happening.  Brisbane reached 35 degrees on Monday.  And yet, and yet... it's still winter!  Does this mean we can look forward to a 40 degree spring and 50 degree summer? Please no.  Let Monday be a climactic aberration.  Pretty puhleez?

Being rather heffalumpish and hot, me and my ever-widening girth headed off to Yeronga Pool on Monday for a few laps and cool down.  There is actually a decent number of public pools close to where I live, but I'd never been to Yeronga before.  What a pleasant surprise!  They have a 50m, 25m and shaded kiddy pool and loads of surrounding bushland (with bbqs!) for chilling out - shade or sun, you take your pick.  I managed a very slow 1km freestyle, all the while thinking wonderful thoughts about how my local city council provides such awesome public services.

Yep... still in that zone.  Still loving my footpaths and public libraries.  Last week I picked up my council voucher for 2 free native plants (every homeowner is entitled to 2 free natives every year) - it's a sustainable gardening thing.  How good is that?  Am I mad to be this much in love with my local government?  Oh Lordy, I know there are chinks in the system, but the fact that such a system exists is just so! bloody! fabulous!

I'm sure it will end soon.  

Aiyaiyai, what a stretch between posts.  I wouldn't be surprised if you, dear reader, had given up on this wee blogging nook.  I don't think I'll ever make it as an online columnist.

Dave and I are now back in Brisbane, in our little old house on the train line in Fairfield. 

The house hasn't changed much (apart from a railway sound barrier which is supposed to reduce train noise but doesn't) - but we have.  At least I feel like I have a bit.  Or maybe it's Brisbane that has changed?  Or perhaps I've just forgotten what it's like to live somewhere with systemic order?  I'm really enjoying footpaths, bus timetables, a public health care system, instant hot water coming out of my shower, drinkable tap water...  not that Uganda's lack of basics meant we suffered, it's just nice to experience a low chaos re-entry.  It may be cringeworthy but I gotta admit there is truth to the cliche: Brisbane really is a livable city. 

Actually, to my eyes it's pretty hip and happening right now.  There are festivals everywhere, and the best thing for me is that I have time to explore!  The Brisbane International Film Festival (BIFF), the Brisbane Writer's Festival, the Brisbane Festival and Black History Month are all happening over the next month or two.  Little ol' Kampala was a bit lacking in the festival department so it's nice to be able to get me some kulcha.

We found out this week that our shipment of stuff is due to arrive mid-August, followed by 2-3 weeks for quarantine and customs clearance.  I'm curious to discover just how brutal AQIS will be with a shipment from Africa. Given that we had to provide an inventory of every single wooden item (kitchen chopsticks included!) I'm guessing they will be pretty ferocious.  Which is not necessarily a bad thing, so long as they are efficiently ferocious.  Getting our stuff released from Ugandan customs was a painstaking nightmare so comparatively speaking, I'm sure it will be fine.

All in all, we're good. Dave is working, baby is growing, sun is shining and Brisbane is delightful.

I´m sitting in an internet cafe in Ibiza with little time and lots to report... sun is shining and it´s a balmy 30 degrees outside.  Think I might resort to time-efficient bullet points!

• Our Owino-themed party was a HIT.  Never before have I seen adults play dress-ups with such reckless abandon. There were puffy wedding dresses, ball gowns and something that looked straight out the set of Priscilla Queen of the Desert.  Photos will follow, once I am reunited with my laptop.
• Amsterdam was fab.  We timed our visit with an AC/DC concert and subsequently shared public walkways with metalheads from all over Europe.
• Madrid was hot.  We met up with our fabulous friend Bede who´d unfortunately come down with swine flu-like symptoms.  It was Orgulloso 09 (Pride) which provoked sideways glances towards me as an expectant lesbian.
• Bilbao was gorgeous.  Bede was diagnosed with pneumonia and my Spanish medical vocabulary improved dramatically. Guggenheim building really impressed, but some of the art... not so much.
• Guernika and San Sebastian made for a super day trip.  Turns out that not all Spaniards are beautiful, tanned and toned - pale beach goers also exist!
• Madrid x 2 involved Dave and I being heckled by a drag queen who then proceeded to grope our friend Javier´s private parts on stage.
• Ibiza is beautiful.  I´ve seen my biological father Antonio but no extended family as yet.  Our friends Matt and Neena arrived last night and we´re super excited to be exploring the island with them.  Tomorrow we´re off to Formentera by boat for a sunny, beachy day trip.
• We arrive in Brisbane around 20 June.
• It´s a boy :)

I'm sitting on cushions on the floor of our bare, furniture-less house. The packers came today: after 8 hours of paper wrapping, box folding, sticky-tape-ripping madness, all that remains is a lonely looking indoor plant and a few little piles of rubbish. And me. Dingo was picked up by her new family today, and Dave is attending farewell work drinks.  A solitary moment is just what I need after a pretty hectic few days. Goes without saying that now would be a supremely bad time for a power cut - no candle or battery back up!   

Mazhira's 1 year anniversary was on Wednesday, and despite the flurry of removal preparations, we were able to push everything aside for a day of remembering her.  Family and friends called and sent beautiful emails (*thank you*) which made the day that bit more special. We had a morning tea with a few close friends - coffee, cake and candles hitting the spot.  I guess if Mazhira was alive we'd all be making a big fuss about her first birthday, so it means a lot to know that people remember her despite her absence.  I think one of my lingering fears is that she'll one day be forgotten.

The fact that I'm pregnant on her birthday is actually a wonderful thing. It brings Dave and I a lot of joy to know that, hopefully, we'll be able to move beyond the point of baby-making into the freaky world of parenthood.  Only 3 more months!  The last couple of weeks I've really noticed my trepidation giving way to big doses of excitement and anticipation....  plus, we know the sex :)  Will we reveal?  We haven't had time to decide yet!

Tomorrow we celebrate a friendship-farewell party, and the following day we fly to Spain for 3 weeks. Not sure when or where the time for blogging will crop up - hasta pronto mis amigos x

One of the best things about having family stay, is that they help you see Uganda through fresh eyes again.  Mum's visit has certainly done this for me. 

Highlights of week 1 have been a positive ultrasound scan and day trip to Entebbe to visit the Wildlife Education Centre and eat freshly grilled tilapia overlooking Lake Victoria.  Last night's Ndere Centre cultural dance performance was also pretty good (even if the food was cold).  We also had a day out at Garden City where mum had a 90min massage, followed by us catching a flick at Cineplex ("12 Rounds" - not bad considering the actors were unknown and we had the entire cinema to ourselves!) 

Tomorrow we're off on our 3 day, 2 night Sipi Falls adventure.  In the meantime, some pix of local infrastructure which have pricked mum's interest:

My mum arrived last night for a two week visit - she's sitting in our living room as I quickly bash out this entry.  All luggage in tow and her flight arrived bang on time.  The traffic out and back from Entebbe was also well behaved!  Mum's energy levels are pretty damn good considering it took her about 2 days to get here (via Joburg).

An unforseen African event was bound to happen in the lead up to her stay...  2 days without power (our longest power cut to date) - and this morning the gas cannister pathetically ran out of gas after 8 months of reliable supply.  The last time it ran out coincided exactly with Dave's parent's visit - only then there was no bloody gas to be found in Kampala!  I'm hoping I'll have no problems 'topping up' this morning. 

We've got a range of mum-friendly activities planned, as well as a 2 nighter to Sipi Falls next week.  Later folks x

Turns out there was plenty more happening on Saturday than me hanging out at Kigo.  Saturday evening our very wonderful, very pregnant friend Nora finally went into labour.  At 41 weeks, an induction was looking likely until she rather conveniently picked up a bad case of food poisoning on Friday night.  As happens, the 'both ends' method of natural labour induction kickstarted everything and on Sunday morning, Dave and I woke to the happy news that baby boy Huriya had made it safely into the world. 

In the last couple of months of Nora's pregnancy I had become very excited about her bub's impending arrival. When we arrived at the hospital on Sunday, I was struck by the (rather obvious) realisation that little Huriya was *alive* - nothing morbid, it was simply a little reminder to myself that the odds of having a healthy baby to take home from hospital are really very, very good.

Nora is German and her partner is Ethiopian.  Rather ignorantly I had expected Huriya to be coffee-coloured with a funky newborn afro.  I'd overlooked the fact that even 100% African bubs are born very pale; their skin darkens to its natural colour in the weeks and months after birth.  As for the hair, he's got a headful under the hat!  Here's a picture of the little man - 1 day old :)

Yesterday was my second visit to Kigo Prison, about half way along the road to Entebbe.  I was one of about 10 lawyers and paralegals who helped deliver some basic training on self-representation and detainee's rights at both the men's and women's prison.

The first time I went to Kigo I was pretty impressed: the prison sits on the edge of Lake Victoria and is very open-plan (no high barbed wire gated entrances).  The men's prison is basically a large green space, with cell blocks forming the perimeter boundary.  All around the grassy area are vegetable gardens (grown and maintained by the prisoners).  As well as veggies, there are a few large trees inside that provide decent shade, and together with a permanent lake breeze, birds singing and the sun shining, the whole thing has a bit of a village feel to it.  Not only that, but the prison guards smile and say things like, "Thank you for seeing them!  We are grateful. Please come again!"

That was my initial impression. It would've been different I think if I saw the prison cells.  I'm told each cell is a bare, dark concrete room with tiny barred windows near the roof. Apparently each one fits about 30 men and there is no bedding apart from the odd blanket.  Nor is it uncommon for prisoners to take turns sleeping because there is not enough floor space for everyone to lie down.  At Kigo, the men are served 1 meal a day at 4pm (porridge) and after that they're locked in their cells until the following morning... so about 15 hours a day in cramped, stinking cells.   

Despite our 3 hour delay to get started (prison security checks and general logistical slowness), the training was well received. All of it was in Luganda - we had 3 groups of about 150 participants for each session, with 1 or 2 lawyers per group delivering the content.  My overwhelming contribution was to role play a "witness" and "prosecutor" for our mock English courtroom scene. Oscar-deserving, I tell you.

Maybe it's due to my increasingly compulsive addiction to The Wire, but Kigo Prison yesterday felt quite different.  Actually I think it was being inside for a whole day, seeing a few shady hand-passes and finding out about Kigo's safe house (torture) reputation.  I also heard new stories about guys being on remand for years and years. It's normal in Uganda for prisoners to be on remand (charged but not convicted) for ages before their case ever gets to court.  The two Kigo clients I interviewed on my first visit had each been on remand for 4 years, with no indication of when their matter would make the court list.  (Apparently this isn't bad - one guy had been on remand for 9 years!)  Getting bail is rare: most guys don't have sufficient cash or sureties, and even if they do, a lot of Magistrates flatly refuse bail because of the risk of offenders failing to return to court.  

The system is clogged, corrupt and painfully slow, but at least there are a few pro bono efforts going on. The org I've been volunteering with has a public defence unit that only just scratches the surface, but it does yield results.  And given the absence of State-funded legal aid services, pro bono work is usually the only legal help blokes like those at Kigo can look forward to.

Operation Relocate is in full swing:

Dingo - new owners TICK. Lovely Dutch family with two small girls. Dingo was on her best behaviour for their meet 'n' greet (barely any excitement pees and lots of submissive "tickle my belly and I'll love you forever" moves).

House - new tenants TICK. Lovely Dutch family with one small adopted Ugandan baby.  Yes, it's true: (a) there is a disproportionately large Dutch diaspora in Kampala, and (b) I love Dutch people. 

Dave's bicycle - TICK. Sold to a Ugandan work colleague. 

Car - NO... gotta get onto it.

Shipment - aka the process of getting a relocation company to come to your house, bubble wrap your entire life contents and pack it suitably for shipping back to your Country of Origin.... TICK.  At least, the quotation process has begun.

Job for Dave - TICK, no cross, no TICK, no... half-tick?  Ongoing and a little nerve-wracking, but exciting all the same. 

And I'm breaking the rules here, but Baby  - TICK TICK TICK!  Today was our 20 week scan and bub's scorecard is 100% healthy, active and plum bloody normal.

All in all, we're on track people.

Pretty much every day I drive up and down Kira Road, a major route that feeds northern traffic in and out of Kampala city.  It's a two lane road although it could easily become four: in peak hour traffic it's usually bumper to bumper (a round trip to Dave's office and back home can take up to 1 hour instead of the usual 20 minutes).  Once we join Kira Road it's about a 2km downhill crawl to the bottom roundabout.

Kira Road has no shortages of service stations or supermarkets.  In fact, on our modest 2km slope there is a veritable glut of both... 4 service stations (a Caltex, Shell, Total and Shell) and 6 supermarkets (quality supermarket, safeway supermarket, kenjoy supermarket, allwin supermarket, payless supermarket and, my personal favourite... super supermarket).  There's also 1 hospital, 1 country club, 2 churches and 3 private medical clinics.

So my question is, what is going here?  More importantly, what happened to the people whose homes were demolished?


This cleared piece of land (about the size of a football field) was excavated and levelled about a month ago.  I didn't see anything in the papers or hear anything from friends about why or what for.  The demolition of small houses and shopfronts took place a couple of months beforehand, and after the bulldozers did their job this big vacant block is all that is left.  For now.

So, what do we think - more petrol, anyone?  Some friendly next-door competition for super supermarket?  Maybe I'm just cynical and it'll be medium density affordable housing units.  Perhaps a small school?  Or a green space for public enjoyment?  I think I'll go with petrol....

Kampala City Council is fairly notorious for it's loose urban planning regulations, and the private sector seems to be given free reign to build what it wants, where it wants.  How else could you buy fuel every 500 metres? 

I'm open to suggestions (and desperate to be proven wrong).