Grannymar

Last night I got this by email and shared it with a couple of friends.

So what better way to begin a day that with a great big smile.

Thank you Bikehikebabe.

Now I am off to do my exercises….!

Elizabeth Munro gave birth at 66 by elective Caesarean section. She had IVF treatment at a clinic in the Ukraine. Elizabeth Munro is divorced, so it is unknown whether or not the baby will have a father figure. In early July, she will celebrate her 67th birthday. These two milestones will make her Britain’s oldest mother with her age exceeding the previous record-holder, Patricia Rashbrook, by four years.

She could not get IVF treatment in the UK from the NHS who have a cut off date of age 40, or privately since the cut off date is fifty. But for £10,000 she was able to buy IVF treatment in the Ukraine. She has no partner, no brothers or sisters and she will be 80 when her child becomes a teenager. Teen tantrums can be difficult enough to cope with for younger parents.

The oldest known woman to have given birth is Omkari Panwar, from India, who had a twin boy and girl last year. She was said to be 70. Her 77-year-old husband paid for the IVF, which the couple wanted to provide a male heir, by selling buffaloes and mortgaging his land.

Maria del Carmen Bousada de Lara, from Spain, previously held the record after having twin boys at the age of 66 following IVF in America in 2006.

On BBC Radio 4 the other night a programme called the Moral Maze (a listen again facility is available for another five days) discussed this topic. 

The first witness was Carol, a single career woman of 72 who is seeking IVF with a donor egg and sperm. She doesn’t have a husband or network of support. She used the term ‘WANT’, not desire, love or need. A child of five will tell you what they ‘WANT’ from Santa and it is never what they need. She actually asked publicly on air for a donor!!

When asked what she saw as the principal duty of a parent Carol said it was to ‘Put the child first!’ I am sorry, willingly setting out to bring a child into the world from a donor egg and sperm at the age of 72 plus, is not PUTTING the child first. I ‘WANT’ cream cakes, I am not supposed to eat them, and if I do eat them only I suffer.

The success rate for IVF in a woman aged 60 and over is ·8% (point eight percent).

Many of us in Ireland have followed with interest the long haul that Xbox and ET had to become pregnant – they are a young couple. So many times they reached the wall of despair, but had each other to lean on for comfort and the support in facing yet another cycle of scans, blood tests and bearing all to strangers.

A young healthy woman of natural child-bearing years can find the nine months of pregnancy difficult, at times stressful and tiring. So what must it be like for an older body?

What I have written so far deals with the female side of the equation.

The male body is a horse of a different colour. Man is capable of producing sperm way into his seventies. They have the fun…. Point and shoot! No morning sickness, mood swings, swollen ankles, painful boobs that weigh a tonne or feeling like a beached whale for several months! If that is not easy enough, when all the deep breathing, pushing, sweating and squealing is done (by the good lady) they are off down the pub with their mates for beers to celebrate the new arrival.

Declaration time here:

I married a man old enough to be my father. We knowingly, willingly and lovingly conceived and brought Elly into this world. Jack was a very ‘hands on’ father playing a full part in her upbringing. They had a wonderful relationship that lasted until his death a few weeks before her 20^th birthday. Elly can tell you about the teasing she faced about having a dad who was older than many of the grandparents of her class mates. She coped well. She may have teased her dad about the history that she was learning being current affairs when he was young, but whoa betide anyone at school who said anything disrespectful about her dad!

Jack had amazing energy and never looked or acted his age. We had each other on the stressful days, and I was half the age with double the energy I have now. I would not like, by natural means or any other, to start a family at the age I am now. Lifting, bending and keeping up with a crawling baby is bad enough without the thought of facing the terrible teens in ten or twelve years time.

What do you think?

Yesterdays story about overheard conversations brought back a long forgotten memory.

When I got my very own doll I loved to carry her about and talk to her.

After a few months I realised that I would have to put her down or find a new way to carry her around the house, in order to shift the dust, do the washing and cook the meals.  Since it was long before I ever heard of Google I had to trawl the shops and magazines for advice.  Then one day I found exactly what I wanted, posted off my cheque and waited patiently.

One week later the Postman arrived with my parcel.  It felt like Christmas as I ripped off the paper to find my new treasure.  It was just as described and I wanted to use it straight away.

Following the instructions I carefully put my doll into the harness, put the straps over my shoulders and tied them around my waist.  Satisfied that all was well I slipped into my overcoat and off we headed for a walk. My doll was sitting snugly against my chest and could feel my heartbeat,  she could see and touch my face and most important she could hear my voice.

My overcoat at the time was fitted neatly at the shoulders and flared out to a full swing from there. It buttoned to the neck but by leaving the top two buttons open little miss was snug and warm inside it with just her head peeping out.

As I walked briskly down the hill, talking non stop, I noticed a man walking ahead of me.  He looked back and smiled and then continued on his way.  This action was repeated several times within a short distance.  Eventually he stopped and turned towards me.  All the while I was getting closer.

When I was alongside him he spoke for the first time “Ah! You are talking to the baby.  I thought you were talking to me! When I looked back at you I didn’t see the baby.”

I was talking to Elly.  Is it any wonder she never shuts up nowadays.  Hands up, it is all my fault.

This Podcast tells the story of the power of love between a child and his or her favourite toy.

The Velveteen Rabbit

Sleeping Elly and Sammy

Sammy in his bag today

You all know how I love the sound of my letterbox clattering and the other day was no different.

My singular item that day was a card from Anne, a friend I worked with in Dublin before I was married. We have remained in touch by letter, phone calls and the occasional visit. Anne married a couple of years before me and had a daughter Rebecca by the time I walked down the aisle. She later has a son a little younger than Elly.

The card from Anne was to wish me well during this special month of June. She was encouraging me to savour every day and particularly Elly’s Wedding Day. She enclosed a copy of a letter that she had come across on a recent spring-clean and enjoyed re-reading. As I read the letter tears rolled silently down my face! I think I might like to share it:

Waveney Hospital

Ballymena

Tuesday 9^th May

Dear Anne & Tony,

Greetings from the Grannymar Family!

Yes Elly arrived on Saturday at 4.25p.m. She is just gorgeous. At 6lbs 12ozs she was much bigger than I had expected. The Consultant had told me the baby would be small and I had expected a wrinkled little prune! Well there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight.

The Consultant took me into hospital on the Wednesday as my sugar levels were very high. They ran tests and X-rays all day Thursday to make sure the baby was big enough to bring on. The results were through on Friday and they started the ball rolling at 10.30a.m. Saturday. I must say it was all very easy and couldn’t understand why they kept asking to give me an injection for pain!

Poor Jack had the longest day of his life, waiting and wondering. He was up and finished breakfast before 6a.m. and wandered around in circles all day. By 4p.m. when there was still no news he decided to come on over and wait at the hospital, but by the time he arrived, all was over and he was taken straight to see his little daughter.

I will never forget the look on his face when he came across to my bedside. The tears just ran down his cheeks with joy!

I had a try at breast feeding on Sunday but yesterday I had to stop as my skin is so fair and sensitive. I will try again today but am resigned to the fact that it may not work out. I will at least have tried and what more can I do. Yesterday I had a touch of the ‘Blues’, but am back to myself again today. I was just overtired and slept very little on Saturday and Sunday.

Sister has just made rounds and together we decided to quit the breast feeding. I am much too sore and raw and would run into more trouble. It is better to decide now and not wait until I am home and on my own.

Mammy has phoned to say she will come to see us. Jack persuaded her to wait until next week when I am home and she would have more time with us. I am really looking forward to her visit.

Well now Rebecca, we can take out the little bootees and make good use of them. It seems no time since you were as new as Elly. How time goes by!

Anne I must finish and get some more letters written while Elly sleeps and the mood is on me.

Love to All

Grannymar

We all use emails nowadays for speed and ease. I wonder how they will last as records of events in years ahead.

Don’t give up the Pen and paper!

Over the past few days several of my blogging pals have let off steam about things that were annoying them.

Now it is my turn.

This morning I needed to purchase something (light) so I decided to walk up the town. For various health reasons this walk is not always possible or indeed a good idea. In these parts we say ‘Up the town’ when in fact it is a mile downhill to the centre of our so called shopping area from where I live. The mile uphill on the return journey is rather taxing for me nowadays. I managed my outward journey quite well, but walking along the main street I was almost pushed under a bus! It was only a single-decker so maybe if it had hit me the damage may not have been so bad!!!

So how did it happen? There were shoppers about and I was aware of a young lady approaching with a baby in a pushchair. Being polite, and one of the old school, l I moved to the outside of the pavement to give her room. She paid no attention to me and barged on past. From the side of the pushchair (closest to me), 2 enormous packets of disposable nappies were protruding. The packages hit me as she passed with enough force to knock me off balance. I ended up in the road. She must have noticed or felt the bump!

As I struggled up the hill with more aches & pains than I had on the way down I pondered on the subject of ‘Babies’ & their transport. My gripe is the fact that a) she paid no heed to other pedestrians and b) that the pushchair/buggy/ stroller or whatever you want to call it was the size of an SUV! Maybe if I had to push a tank like that about I would become aggressive.

This evening I browsed the web and was horrified to discover that one of these gigantic pushchairs might cost £300-£400. The weight of a pushchair is approximately 13kg, that’s without the baby! The assembled size is about L130 x W58 x H106cm.

I then read several reviews about these means of transport and the consensus was that they were very heavy when folded and quite cumbersome when trying to lift into the boot of a car or onto a bus. You also need a fairly large area to store them as they takes up a fair amount of room! The sunshade was useless as it didn’t shade the baby from the sun at all. Finally whilst it is lovely having pneumatic tyres, it is very frustrating when you got a puncture. One lady reported having had three!

Now don’t get me started on disposable nappies……