Another year over, a new one just begun

I'm ringing in the new year with ringing in my ears.

I swear, I am about to cut off my head, at the neck actually, and be done with it. Our brilliant first "proper" night out - read: 5 hours off duty, not even the evening rollover feed to worry about - was dinner and a movie. Which was all well and good until 3.30 the following morning and a stabbing pain in my shoulder blade. My initial thought was that Steve was finally seeking vengeance and going me with a kitchen knife for all those times I nagged him about the lawn. But it turns out, it was the beginning of a nightmare weekend drugged up to the eyeballs on Panadeine which, in itself, is bloody fantastic (I feel invincible) but not necessarily my idea of healthy living. Also not great when they wear off after only a couple of hours and you're only allowed to dose up a few times a day.

Note to self: if you're going to have a migraine for the first time in, oh, EVER, don't do it over the Christmas/New Year period because no one gives a flying flexed tendon. Not until after the 3rd.

On a far more cheerful note, the universe, in its infinite way of surprising, has delivered to us a delightful gift. A babysitter. A keen-as-mustard, living in the same suburb, babysitter. And I'm not talking the kid next door (although she did offer and, despite being just 15, looked to be an appealing candidate until she was blown out of the water by the opposition). Oh no. Far more exciting than that.

I received a call out of the blue three weeks ago from Ruby (that's not her name, but I like it), the 2IC midwife at the Mother Baby Unit where the LGBB and I took respite in November. She was calling to see how we'd been getting on. What was, I guess, a fairly routine follow up call then took a turn towards trumpeting angels on high. Backlit. With sparklers. She confessed she felt we'd made a real connection and she felt she wanted to offer her services and babysit for us. Whenever we want. I had to stifle the sound of my humble jaw dropping to the (dusty) floor. I admit that at that point, even though the LGBB had been blessing us and herself with 12 luxurious hours of sleep per night, I was still not really back on the ball - and let's face it, who can really balance on top of that ball without excellent core stability which is completely lost after a baby? I hadn't got a handle on how to juggle her day napping and trying to fit in work and housekeeping in amongst these grabs of sleep and progressively longer up times she was doing.

So when Ruby offered, I cried. She told me I wasn't allowed to cry. So I cried more. HOW this happened is just so beyond me. For you see, not only is she a midwife. Her previous role was as a NICU nurse (at the very NICU where Ella was, coincidentally). She knew the nurses who cared for Ellanor back in 2004 and she herself had been there up until the month Ella was born, but she left on maternity leave. And gave birth to her daughter. Lauren. On the day Ella died. To the very hour. Now if that's not a person I was destined to meet, I don't know who is.

The afternoon of last Friday, when Ruby was due to come and scrapbook on our dining room table (the only payment she wanted was a big table to spread out on... and coffee.... both requirements I could fulfil), I started to get anxious. Really panicky. What if the LGBB wouldn't sleep for her? What if she freaked out so much that our night off had to be cancelled?

But then I smacked myself with each hand and said "Erm..... this is a NICU nurse coming to babysit a healthy 5 month old, you numbnut."

Turns out, Ruby had such a ball at our place that she's all too keen to return. So much so that I asked her if she was going to start ringing and nagging us to go out so she could come here again and scrapbook in peace (she has a decoy album on the go so that her two toddlers can "help mummy", the poor love). I don't know what the joy is about scrapbooking, though friends know I've tried to love it, but far be it from me to stand in the way of a gorgeous, big hearted soul if she wants to do it at our place.

Now I can intersperse her with offers from other friends and family. Aaaaah, the world has suddenly opened right back up again. Gee. What a chore: I have to get around to taking up everyone on their offers to babysit. What a difference to a few months back when I couldn't even entertain the thought of preparing to go out - it felt like such a huge task that it was easier to stay home.

Does anyone get that?