Nancy's best friend has arrived! Well the daughter of our best friend's, so by default they will be best friends too. We went round to Ju and Ulrika's to meet Ebba the day after she was born, she was an ounce heavier than Nancy's birth weight, but felt so tiny. I still think of Nancy as a little baby, but next to Ebba, she looks like she's on her way to university. I can't wait for them to get to know each other. I have romantic day dreams of our holidays abroad, the girls sharing a tent on half term camping trips in Cornwall, them playing round each other's house after school, but the reality is they will probably feel a bit resentful of how much we shove them together and become friends in spite of us instead of because, or worse still, just don't like each other at all.
We went for Nancy's first set of injections this week. This has to be the worse thing I've done to her since she's been born. This includes not realising she's pooed all up her back and putting her in a pram for an hour long walk, force feeding her Intracol and making her wear a baby grow which turned out to be far too small and wouldn't enable her to stretch out any limbs for an entire day. Nancy trusts me, and I let a total stranger (the nurse) stab her leg with the needle. She went purple from howling and gave me a look of utter dismay as if to say how could you let this happen. And as I soothed her, the nurse then stabbed her in the other thigh and the look of hurt was absolutely heartbreaking. I have four weeks to build up that trust again before I shatter it with the next set of vaccines.
The e-bay buying has reached a new level. Most of the stuff I win is far to small for me as I seem to have a massive dose of body dismorphia, and not only think I'm as slim as I was pre Nancy, but thinner. A size 12 maybe, but a 10? Who am I kidding. And at the moment I'd be pushing it a bit to squeeze into a size 14. So these itsy things come through the post, I get excited for about a second as I sign for the package, and am instantly disapointed when I open it- there's no point in even trying most of the stuff on, so I put it back on e-bay, where no-one buys it and I end up giving it to a charity shop. And it's got so bad that I'm not only selling stuff I want to get rid of, but also stuff I like to fund my addiction. The idea was to upgrade my wardrobe while I'm too fat for all my old clothes, not bankrupt myself on expensive, inconcievably tiny load of clothes I will not physically be able to fit into, EVER.
Which brings me back to my most treasured buy. The slendertone. As I write this I'm zapping myself with god knows how many eletric pulses. I've got so hardcore and intolerant to pain since having Nancy that I don't even feel it. Either that or it's faulty. I don't see any actual physical differences but it has counteracted the packet of honey wafers I've just eaten (which were also from the health food shop so must be good for me.) I have a dress I'd like to wear for when Ben and I go on our date in a couple of weeks time so I'm hoping it will start to work miracles in the next few days. Which reminds me, we need to start bottle feeding Nancy some expressed milk so mum can babysit her. God, it's a busy and complicated life looking after a little person.