How To Have a Scottish Baby

Upon request of a few friends here in St. Andrews I will be typing up a "how to" of sorts for those expecting little ones here.

While what I say is certainly not a rule of thumb, and will probably be very disorganized, it is compiled of information I wish I had when preparing to have Annika here in Scotland (and simply having a baby in general).

Preparations:

Ok, so let's start with clothes, shall we? What do you need?

For a newborn, I would say 2-3 cutsie outfits for things such as "bring home" from the hospital, and church. Then after that, around 7, no more than 10, just every day outfits. But do feel free to go crazy on things such as footie pajamas! Not only will you be at home with a newborn (therefore not needing to put on day clothes), but it can be cold here, so if you do decide to go out, you can leave your little bit in his/her jammies and not have to worry with things such as socks. I strongly suggest getting pajamas that zip instead of button for newborns. Late night diaper changes and snap buttons really mess with a sleepless mommy, and a wardrobe frustrated daddy.

Do you need scratch mits, hats, socks, and bibs? Yes. The best scratch mits I have found are £1 for a pair at Tesco's. They come in boy and girl colors, are very affordable, don’t fall apart in the wash, and best of all, they stay on! Not all babies are bad about scratching their faces, Annika for example really only had two or three incidents of face scratching. However, on very cold days I put them on to keep her hands warm, and trust me they make a difference!

I personally do not like hats. Why? Well Annika hates them, and they slide around a lot. Infact, you will see me putting my ear muffs on her frequently to avoid hats. But there will be times where you will want and need one for your little bit, so get a few in several sizes.

Bibs. Bibs. Bibs. Annika has about 25, and we often use 10 a day. It wasn’t always this way, infact, there was a time where I thought I could bag them up and get rid of them. She rarely would spit up, and drooling was a minimum. But then one day, when she was about 3 months old, the faucet turned on, and she drools constantly! She isn’t even teething yet!! This may not happen with your baby, but I still suggest being prepared. I was able to get most of my bibs in the States, but if you go shopping here, M & Co has a so-so, slightly overpriced, selection. Boots has several different kinds to pick from. One of my favorite styles being those that simply have an elastic neck (no Velcro or snaps) and will fit baby possibly up to a year of age. So yes, they are huge, but oh so nice!

Socks are a pain in the rear. They fall off, disappear, and frustrate frazzled moms. But they don’t always have to fall off! I have several pairs for Annika that I refer to as "the tall socks". They are like knee-high socks for babies, and never have they fallen off or even come close to doing so. I have no clue where to get them honestly. I however will point you towards Babies R Us or Carter's (both are in the UK). If you ever take your little one out in a snow-suit, they will remarkably still get cold feet if you don’t put socks on them, so needless to say, if it's cold, use socks. If you have a baby girl, feel free to ditch the socks on as many outfits as possible, and go crazy with tights. Not the thin material (like panty hose) tights, but the good thick kind. They can be found at M & Co for £4 and sometimes buy one get one half off. So get a few pairs in different colors.

If you are a local to Scotland or any other cold place which you will go outside often in, please invest in a snow suit for your baby! They can be found at several of the local charity shops, and sometimes on sale at M & Co. Do not get them in newborn sizes though! You will use it twice (maybe) and have to toss it later. A snow suit is definitely something that is okay to be worn very baggy in for baby.  

I will talk about pacifiers at a later time, but let me go into another topic that I consider “clothing”. That is the pacifier clip. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love this one item. If you are lucky enough to have a baby that likes pacifiers with loops on them, buy two or three of these. They are a strip of fabric with a Velcro loop on one end, and a clip on the other. Basically you simply clip the pacifier to the baby’s bib or shirt, so when it falls out the mouth you don’t have to rush off to sterilize and replace it or worse yet lose it. Anytime you see Annika, she will have one attached to her. She may be seen playing with or tugging the pacifier out of her mouth, but at least the darned thing isn’t on the ground!

This section is for moms with baby girls. I have found that I had many boy hand-me-downs given to me, or that several boy items were the right size and price for Annika to wear. But do I want her going around looking like a little man? Nope! So what I have found to be a handy trick is to go ahead and keep some of these boyish items and have them “spiffed up”. How do I do this? Well I go and buy cute accessories (such as hair clips and ties) then walk over to the In Stitches shop on Bell Street and have them sewn onto to clothes. Viola! You have yourself a personalized girl outfit! Yes, yes I know, why don’t I sew these things on myself… well probably due to my failure at anything needle and thread. Kudos to those who can sew, but it is not my thing!  

Onesies! Buy them. Here in Scotland, buy them in long sleeved sets. Again, avoid newborn sizes, and just go for the 0-3 month sets. They are great for layering, and you will want them when you take baby out.

So let’s review what you need:

Newborn Nice Clothing: 2-3 full outfits.  

Pajamas: 5 or so pairs, I suggest footie pajamas and maybe 1-2 gowns for nights that Dad will be doing the late shift (diapers are a thousand times easier to get to this way).  For newborn pajamas, try to get the zipper kind!

Scratch Mits: 4 pairs (For those of you in the states, I can send you a picture of what kind to look for).

Socks: 5-6 pairs (the taller the better), or 3-4 pairs of tights.

Bibs: Lots. In several different sizes, and types so you can figure out which works best for you. I really like the soft Velcro kind so they don’t make that awful noise when I’m trying to sneak them off of a sleeping baby. Start with 10 bibs minimum; go up from there as needed.  

Hats: 3-4 in various sizes. Different brands will also fit differently from others and wiggle around less, so try several types.

Coat: 1

Snowsuit: 1

Pacifier Clips: 2  

 

 I hope that this list has been helpful to you. I am sorry I am not the most eloquent with explaining things, especially over a compute! Let me know if you have any more clothing related comments or questions, I will get back to you ASAP!

Annika

A lot of time has passed since my last post. Or atleast a lot of things have happened in that space of time to make it seem like it was forever. Either way, my life has changd completely.
October 26, 2012 my family and I made the journey to Ninewells Hospital in Dundee, Scotland, so that I could be induced for labor. My due date, October 13, had come and gone, and the midwives would not let me carry on any longer. So, with a very nervous, slightly heavy heart, Randy and I entered the labour ward 37, and made ourselves comfortable. A young midwife came by and explained the process of being induced to us, and to our astonishment, said it would be 36 hours before I was even in labour. I wanted to die then and there. 36 hours of this hospital?! It sounded horrible. She then told us that if the propess (the strip of fabric used to induce me) became unnattached, that they would not be able to reinsert it, and that they would have to find an alternative route to get baby AL here. Hearing this terrified me, and I prayed that the strip would stay in place.
Once it was inserted, I was free to walk around the hospital with my family. So we met up with them, and ate a less than great hospital dinner. Not long afterwards, my back began to feel uncomfortable. This was not new though since I was hugely pregnant, however it kept getting worse and worse. I soon had to accpet that the propess was doing its job, and I was going to have a night of possible agony.
At the suggestion of a midwife, we all decided to walk so I could help baby along. So walk we did.. or I did. Dad and Randy plopped down on a couch to discuss politics, while my mother made phone calls back to the states to let everybody know my news. I walked back and forth trying to find some relief for my back pain. Little did I know that this was nothing compared to what I'd soon be up against. As it began to get late, my parents went back to their B&B in town, and Randy walked me back to ward 37, and kept me company as I took a wonderful hot bath to help with the pain. And let me tell you, that bath was a miracle! It helped to ease my contractions, and being warm was a plus.
After my bath, Randy had to leave to go catch some sleep at the B&B, so I curled up, watched an episode or two of MASH then went to sleep until about 3am. I took two more baths, and then realized I had lost the propess strip. With much fear and shame I went to the midwife office and told them what happened. A very kind Russian midwife came and examined me, she told me it was not at all a problem, that I had since dialated to a 3 or 4 and should start walking and using the birthing ball as much as possible to help me water break. So with a giant ball under me, I watched Monk, and bounced away till about 9am when breakfast was served, and my wonderful husband appeared.   
At this point I was exhausted. Contractions were coming and going and my back simply hurt. The midwives told us to walk walk walk, and to go sideways up and down the stairs. So this is what we did for the rest of the day. Walked. By about 4pm my contractions were full on, and very consistent. I couldnt bear to take them lying down, so I would wrap my arms around Randy's neck, and we would slowly dance in a circle. It was the only way I could focus on the contractions without falling over. It seemed though, that anytime we stopped to give me a break, the contractions would also stop. It was discouraging to me because I was so tired, I couldnt even use them ball to fight them. I simply had to walk to keep them going. Soon the contractions were unbearably strong, so we rushed back to the labour ward, just knowing that any minute now my baby would come (it was now about 7pm). The pain was getting to be to much to handle, so trying my best to go about it in a drug free manner, I opted for the gas to help with pain. After inhaling it for 2 minutes I put it down and wouldnt touch it again. I would rather fight the pain on my own then have that stuff. It made me dizzy and incredibly tired. The midwives kept trying to get me to take it back since I was now screaming in pain, but the horrible feeling it left was to much. 
Finally they moved me to the labour suite, where I begged for another bath to help with the contractions. Knowing I wanted a natural, drug free birth, they decided to move me to the midwife until downstairs so I could use the birthing pools their. We waited what seemed like ages to be moved, and finally they took us down there and before the pool was even full, I climbed in, only to be chewed out by a less than friendly midwife. But, the pool worked against me, I became to relaxed and the contractions stopped again. So I pulled myself away from the precious warm water of the birthing pool, got dressed again, and we walked. I was exhausted, Randy was disheartened, but we walked. At about midnight we returned to the midwife unit and explained that even walking had stopped helping. No longer wanting to deal with my difficult case, and forseeing that I needed my water broken, they arranged to have me moved back to the labour suite. I felt crushed, I had wanted so badly to do this on my own, and having my water broken was intervention. But two hours later they moved us to the labour suite, and now with what contractions I was having I decided to go ahead and have an epidural.
I knew they would have to chemically up my contractions, so after what I had been feeling, I was ok with this pain preventor. So after more waiting, at about 3am, I got my epidural. It was horrible and scary, knowing what they were doing in my spine, not to mention I had started throwing up. Finally I had it in, it was working, and I fell asleep. I woke up later on to see my stomach crunching down on itself. I was in awful pain even with the epidural. They came and uped my dose, and to fight the pain I watched as my sweet husband slept on his mat. Later they came to check on my progress. I had dilated to a 7, and the baby was not only up to high but facing the wrong way. They had broken my water earlier, and that had not helped. They told me I should go in for a C section, but they would, in an hour let me try pushing just to see if it would help.
So one hour later, I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Nothing. Baby had moved down some, and magically I was fully dialated, but it just wasnt going to happen. So they prepped my for a possible c-section, but first they would be trying the forceps.
They moved us into the operating room, got everything set up, me heavily drugged and got to work trying to turn my baby so I could push again. For 15 minutes they tried this, then told me it was time for a c-section. I held back my tears of defeat and looked to Randy, comforted to know that soon, baby would be with us, in his arms, and safe. Randy smiled at me, touched my face, and talked to me about furbies... yes those awful fuzzy toys from the 90s.
Then it happened. I heard a cry. A small, muffled cry of a baby. The doctors laughed, and said "crying before your even out of the womb". And I cried too, my baby was okay, I could it, and I loved it so much! Randy and I held eachothers gaze, smiling. Next thing I knew, the doctors were holding up a baby, exclaiming at the massive size of it, and saying it was no wonder it wouldnt turn!
Then they held it up for me to see. There she was. Perfect. Purple. Crying. And Beautiful. Newborns werent supposed to be beautiful, but this one was.
They took her back and cleaned her up, bringing her back to Randy to hold. She was so peaceful in his arms, she must have known how loved and safe she was. She simply sat there looking for food, and being held.
We both fell inlove with her. 45 hours of labour. Here was our Annika.

Living Abroad While Being Broad

So sorry it has taken me this long to get the blog updated. I have come to find that when you do not have internet at your house, you use what little time you do get for only important things. In my case, contacting my family, and ordering much needed baby items.

Randy and I made the journey over here with no problems what so ever, which for us seems like a glorious record in our history of travels! Our first day here was a bit rough for me. We arrived to our darling new home by taxi, and I immediately wanted to take a nap, while Randy, in true form, wanted to go explore every inch of Scotland then and there! Of course, if you have ever had a 16+ hour travel day, you know how tired you can be. Simply add in jet lag and being pregnant to that travel day, and you have a lethal concoction designed to create the most perfect (and most desired) sleep. So with a little bit of begging, Randy let me crash on our horribly uncomfortable bed, while he took off to discover our new home.

 When I woke up… or was it when I was woken up by Randy? Either way, we took the time for Randy to go show me some of his newest discoveries. It didn’t take long for me to see how beautiful St. Andrews is. Flowers of all sorts and kinds thriving not only in yards, but on roof tops of ancient structures, and in stone walls on the side of the road. Along with these flowers you could find cobbled streets, medieval ruins precariously perched over the ocean, gulls calling to one another, a man playing bagpipes in the church square. Randy led me on our walk down an adorable walking street called the Lade Braes to a park, Cockshaugh. The park is made up of a few gentle hills, a long soccer field with a playground at one end, a dark but beautiful forest, and the burn (the Scottish term for a creek/stream). The burn, which actually flows quite near to our home, is crystal clear on most days, and home to ducks, herons, and my personal favorite bird, dippers. 

In our month here, we have found many more beautiful places, and yet there is still so much more to explore. However, I have also come to find that while I seem to double in size every week, I am growing very tired. I am very happy that we live in a place where we depend so strongly on walking everywhere. It has given me assurance that I will have the endurance to get through the birth of our child, and ability to recover quickly afterwards. Yet, it is getting more and more difficult to climb the steep hill into town every day! Not to mention my maternity clothes are becoming a bit small for my now beyond-basket-ball figure.

Purpose

Well as usual I am at a loss of how to introduce something (such as a blog). So I will cut to the point and avoid fancy words and glorious statements of why I am now, hopefully, going to begin a blog.
Randy (my husband) and I will be abandoning our near-simple lives in Texas and moving to Scotland. Randy has been accepted to a masters program at St. Andrews University, which means we will have the joy of living in this rainy cold place for a year. Along with this monumentous move over the ocean, we will be expecting our first child in October.
So this blog is generally dedicated to the keeping of myself sane in a new land, and with something so big changing my life, a baby.  

So, a few details to flesh myself and my story out.
Randy and I met in September of 2009, quickly fell in love, and were married in June of 2010. We have had the joy of living in several places such as Abilene (TX), Houston, Fort Worth, and even South Bend (IN).
In February of this year we discovered that we are the parents of a tiny precious gift, due to arrive October 13th. The news of a surprise baby was a total shock to both of us, but now, with every kick in my belly, we are growing more and more anxious for "Little One" to arrive.
A few months after learning we were going to be parents we had the choice of decided where we would go next. Randy's college career led him to three universities to choose from; Wheaton in Illinois, Oxford in England, or St. Andrews in Scotland. I still find it funny that my husband had Oxford as a "back up choice" for college. He is a brilliant young man, and a very hard worker, something I love to brag about.
In the end, he chose to attend St. Andrews, where he will have the opportunity to study Systematical and Historical Theology (Ancient Christianity). 
I of course am very back and forth about this. I have the huge adventure ahead of me of living in Scotland. Who in their right mind hasnt dreamed of this kind of thing? We will be at one of the oldest universities in the world, right next to the ocean, and in a land so beautiful that tourists and photographers flock to it in mass. However, on the other hand, I am terrified. I am expecting a baby, which will be born in this new land which I know nothing about health care wise. I will be away from everything and everybody I know. I will no longer have my precious horses, Epona and Clippy, or my parents which have become by far the best friends I have. On top of all of this, I know nothing about babies. Nothing! Everybody tells me the same thing "oh don't worry it will all come to you instinctively". Which I typically give an inner growl to and think of how I know this already, but the concept of facing childcare without my mother or sister leaves me petrified in fear. 
Yet through it all I know I will be okay. How do I know this? Well it just so happens that I am married to Randy. Randy is amazing, he is my closest companion, and truest of loves. I could go anywhere with him and be content as long as he was nearby. With him, I know I can live in this land of no walmarts. With him I will learn to face the horrid rain that plagues Scotland. With him, I will raise this baby to be a strong little Christian. With him, I will be able to fill a good deal of the hole in my heart that will appear when I have to say goodbye to my family.
So really and truly I am excited. I have my husband, my faith, and soon I will have a tiny baby to bring me sleepless nights filled with joy and caring.

To those of you who finished reading this whole shpeel I commend you for your bravery and excellence. I hope you will continue to check in on me, and perhaps even drop me an encouraging note here and there.
Have a wonderful day,
Kristen