SIX..... HAPPY BIRTHDAY Coop

This year Cooper started kinder, I never posted about his first day at school, but I cried.... I didn't expect to because mostly I was so excited for him to take this next big step, but I did! He went to school with a really good little mate from preschool and the boys quickly formed a little wolf pack with two other boys, and they've been inseparable since.


But back to the birthday wishes...


6 is really a magical age, or at least it has been for you Cooper, everyday is pure joy. You are still such a good kid and fierce friend. Your very first report card indicated how popular you were with the other kids, how you fought for fairness in the playground and encouraged everyone to try their hardest. Academically you have amazed your dad and I, reading well above what's required, and solving problems with ease.


You still have a sensitive side, and love to cuddle when it's just the 6 of us at home.


You have taken to being a big brother again so well. You beam with pride whenever someone asks about your twin brothers, you help feed them and entertain them, and you were amazingly strong when the boys and I were stuck in hospital for a month.


As you get older I find this harder and harder to write. You are still the same boy you've always been, you are still brave and bashful, cheeky and loving - but you are growing up, finding more and more ways to be independent and show us how responsible you are for a 6 year old.


That very first week of school you begged me to allow you to do crossings, then third term you were catching the bus home and by the end of the year I have no doubt that you and Lewis will have arranged to walk home to Lewi's place to play nerf guns after school....


Your dad couldn't have been prouder the very first time you strapped on your footy boots and ran out to play. The first game, that first tackle your dad lit up with pride, the first try his smile took over his entire face - we'll never push you to play something you're not interested in, but for this year your dad has never been happier.


Still I love you, still I am so incredibly proud to call you mine, still; despite no longer being my baby boy you are my favourite big boy.

Happy birthday mate




At 6: you've got 2 loose teeth
Height: 123cm
Weight: ?? we haven't weighed you in ages
Your best friends are: Lewis Kelsey, Liam Carter, Lucas Mayberry, Paxton Cordwell and Riley Tank
Your favourite things are: BMX, playing footy and soccer, playing infinity on the PS4 with daddy and asking for snacks.
Your biggest achievement this year: you were incredibly proud of yourself for being the only kid in kinder to get all your sight words right before the end of term 1. You also sought out the principle on the day your baby brothers were born to make an announcement to the entire school at morning assembly, letting everyone know that Carter and Mason were born.
Your favourite food: pizza

get out of me NOW!

So, pregnant women everywhere will tell you by 30 weeks you are dying to reclaim your own body.... 30 weeks with twins is sheer torture. You are stretched beyond what you thought was capable, the pressure is unbearable down there (and mine weren't head down) the cramped feeling of your lungs crushing your rib cage is something you never get used to, the reflux - omg the reflux!!!


I cried every night begging for 37 weeks to hurry up and get there and every morning until then I asked Cooper to help roll me out of bed and put my shoes on before leaving for work.


At 35 weeks I had gained just over 20 kilo, I felt like a whale, surely the end was near..... I kept working to try to help the days go quicker, I kept keeping up with the big kids sporting commitments hoping that the walking or exhaustion might induce labour..... at 35 +3, on mothers day I lay in bed at 2am for the 4th night in a row sleepless due to irregular Braxton hicks contractions. At 9am I was standing on the side line of a little league game cheering Cooper on when I said to Simon, todays the day, I think they'll come today.


I agreed to go to lunch at the local club for mothers day and in the middle of lunch I had a contraction so strong I decided I should call my midwife and asked if I could come in and be monitored for a while. We rushed lunch and all 4 of us went to TCH - not expecting I'd be staying I left everything at home.




At 35+3 with regular contractions I agreed to steroid shots to help develop the boys lungs just in case, contractions kept coming and I agreed to a drug to slow my labour until a second dose of steroids could be given in 24 hours time.... the boys were both transverse and that meant I'd be having a caesarean if things didn't stop.


Simon took the kids to my brothers place and picked up my things. While he was away contractions persisted and it was obvious I wasn't going to make it another 24 hours, a decision was made to try morphine in the hope I could last until 12 hours to give the second dose of steroids earlier..... in hindsight I wish I had listened to my instincts and rejected the morphine because truth be told I knew nothing would stop my labour. 2 hours later I was shaking, adrenaline was kicking in and I'd dilated 5cms. It was 11pm on the 14th of May and it was then the Drs uttered the words emergency C section and while I was relieved, I was anxious about the effect of the morphine on my two new babies and I was nervous about them being so premature.


Having only ever had natural deliveries before I was totally overwhelmed be the procedure. First and foremost new mummies to be, your husband doesn't get to stay with you through the preparation. He'll be allowed into the room just before your babies are delivered. So here I was alone yet surrounded by at least 14 other people in a tiny room. My mid wife kept assuring me this was all normal, but as I saw the NICU doctors wheel in 2 tiny ressuss beds I began to panic. I wanted Simon next to me, I wanted him to tell me it was going to be ok.


The moment the epidural goes in is kinda amazing. All of a sudden all the pain you feel from the weight of the babies is gone, the pain from contractions is over, all you can feel is the pulling and pressure of surgeons hands and nothing more.


Simon finally entered the room and sat with me assuring me it would all be ok. First at 12:34am on the 15th of May came Mason, and it was deadly quiet for what felt like the longest amount of time. His little cry became my favourite sound in the whole world when it finally came. They dug around up under my ribs and I felt an almighty tug and at 12:36am my beautiful Carter was born.

Suddenly the people who surrounded me no longer surrounded me, they were now surrounding Carter still silent in the ressuss bed. They called Simon over and I have never felt so alone "why isn't he  crying" I kept saying.... "what's wrong" everything went unanswered and I was petrified.

Finally there was the cry I was so desperate to hear, the midwife came over with Simon and they placed Mason in my arms telling me everything was OK but both babies needed to go to intensive care. Carter received the neopuff and I briefly held him before they whisked the boys away with Simon to NICU and I was placed alone in recovery unable to see my boys again until morning.

I started pumping that night and kept asking the nurses to deliver the milk for my boys, it was all I could do for them until morning when for the very first time I could have skin to skin and hold my two new absolutely perfect boys.

Zoe is 4.....

Our Zo-zo, who would believe you are 4 and not 14 in a 4 year olds body. Goodness how you’ve grown up.

This year, with some reservation I enrolled you in pre-school. You on the other hand weren’t reserved at all, telling your dad and I within minutes of arriving that “you can go now, I’m ok”. You are the youngest in your class, but that hasn’t slowed you down. It’s no surprise to us that you are the class leader, confident, enthusiastic, kind and the enforcer of righting others wrongs.

You remain strong willed and free spirited. You don’t want to fit in a box, and that’s wonderful. I find it hard to keep up with you even now, you challenge everything I thought I knew about being a mum. Here’s the thing though, despite how brazenly stubborn you can be, how frustratingly hard it is to actually try to calm you, I don’t want to. You may be bold and insist no one stands in the way of whatever it is that you are trying to achieve but you have an unbelievable sweet side too. With your younger brothers due to arrive in this next month I’ve never been more cared for than by you each afternoon as you offer to help me up or rub my back, you sing sweetly to them and given them kisses each night before bed. You are going to be an amazing big sister, just as you are an amazing little sister.

Your relationship with Cooper is a direct reflection of your personality – you either adore him beyond measure or you despise the very sight of him. Mostly, since you started to share a room you are the former. His love for you, his willingness to protect you at all cost is amazing, and I can see you reciprocate in your own special way often being far more direct to his friends than he would have been in negotiating.

You are such a funny girl, I’ll often see you looking in your mirror, watching you practice how you cry, dance, pout or pose. You are by far the most beautiful in the Rushby house however despite playing the diva most of the time, you have a boisterous side that I have loved seeing grow this year through BMX. You are fierce. And you are strong.

Your dad and you – well there are no words, that man knows he is in trouble with you. He spoils you. He is besotted by you, there’s nothing he won’t do to make you smile, your poppy’s too. There’s something special about you that they can’t control. It’s beautiful to see.

Looking back on past blog posts you’ll see you haven’t changed a bit. I read once that the personality you have formed by 4 or 5 is the personality that you will carry with you for the rest of your life. This makes my heart sing. As always my darling daughter I am so proud of you, I love you beyond measure and while I know the next 10 years will see us argue, fight and break our hearts there’s nothing I won’t do for you. You will always have a friend in me.

Happy birthday baby girl

At 4: You love: singing, dancing, babies, BMX and keeping up with Cooper Your best friend is: Sophia

You can: count to 20, can recognise some letters, can write your name, ride without training wheels and draw/colour very well.

You hate: being told no, losing, having to wear pants in winter and anything with onion

Your favourite food: spaghetti

You have all your teeth, your front one slightly chipped.

Your favourite memory this year is: winning a trophy at BMX

You weigh: around 14-15 kilo

You are 103.5cm tall

20 weeks and TWIN BOYS!

The first 18 weeks I spent in an out of hospital on IV drips and anti nausea medication and that about all there is to tell about the first few months.


I worried a lot about how my 56 kilo, 5ft 4"frame would carry twins, I worried about how this would impact our lives, I worried about how we'd afford to raise 4 children, I worried about the age gap between the bigs and these babies.


I worried every second of every day. I worried in my sleep. I just worried.


At 20 weeks we had the big anatomy scan. Cooper and Zoe were set on it being a boy and a girl, I was certain it was going to be two boys and to date my instincts haven't been wrong.


Right there as soon as the sonographer started the scan were spread legs with two little penis's clear as day in between.


This time it was Zoe's turn to hysterically cry while the rest of us beamed with pride and for the first time since the very first pregnancy test I felt real joy and excitement. I felt a sense of hope and I knew things would be OK. I felt like I finally had regained control.


I was going to be a twin mumma. I was nervous but I was thrilled. I can do this! I'll rock this! I'm a multiple mumma, and just like that all my reservations, doubts and insecurities left. These boys were going to be so loved, they were so wanted, they were going to complete this family and complete me.

My heart stretched and all of a sudden there was room for two more.

Ummmmm I'm pregnant ..... holy shit i'm pregnant

In October of 2016 I felt off. Like really off. Out of this world exhausted. Sick to my stomach with every smell, oh and my boobs - hello perkiness! But I wasn't pregnant, I mean I couldn't be pregnant, 18 months ago we made the decision to PERMANATELY prevent us from being pregnant. We decided that our family was complete, that our perfect pigeon pair were just that, perfect and we didn't need any more children to complete us. In fact we decided it was financially irresponsible for us to have any more children.




Simon had the big snip. It took some encouragement but he did it, and after tests confirmed he was in fact shooting blanks we were relieved and excited to start planning our life after daycare costs, nappies, toilet training and sleep deprivation. Our kids were 5 and 3 and we were entering the golden years of parenthood. You know the ones, the ones where your kids are old enough to be through the tantrums and trying times but young enough that they still want to be with you, do things with you, are proud to be seen with you.




So as you can understand we couldn't be pregnant. I mean for gods sake - we signed a form saying we understood this procedure was a permanent form of contraception.




After showing of my perky boobs to a work colleague in the gym, I was so proud that all my hard work training was paying off, I was the skinniest, fittest and most confident I'd ever been in my own skin - she laughed that perhaps it wasn't my hard work, that perhaps I was pregnant. We both laughed, and laughed and laughed. Impossible I said.




So anyway, I felt like I was dying, like actually dying, I was vomiting everything up, I was asleep by 7pm and could barely roll out of bed 12 hours later. Oh and my period was 10 days late, but you know I'd been working out loads, watching what I ate and my husband was fixed, so I couldn't be pregnant.




I turned up at my sister in laws one Monday afternoon after picking the kids up and asked if she had a pregnancy test lying around, just because I had to rule it out.

Within a few seconds of taking the test that magic second line appeared – you know the one, the line that you are so desperate for when you make the decision to start a family, the line that seems to take an endless amount of time to faintly appear before you take a photo of it and send it off to your best friend for confirmation that she too can see it – yep that line, that pink line, it was instantaneous, it didn’t require photo validation.

I held onto the wall. My head was spinning and I was shaking so uncontrollably I’m sure there was wee splatter being shared down the hallway.

My face must have said it all because my sister in law just looked blank and I burst into tears.

My immediate fear was “how will Simon ever believe me” my second fear “how can we afford another baby”

I called my best friend.

She didn’t help.

We spent a good little while just silent on the phone before I said “I have to call Simon” and promptly hung up on her.

I called Simon.

He too was silent. Who could blame him, I mean what could he say? I imagined the Jerry Springer episode that would play out at home. I imagined having to complete DNA tests. I imagined the worst.

I decided to call into the shops on my way home and get a few more tests and because I’m impatient I took them in the toilets at Westfield shopping mall. Each one was instantly positive. My sister in law shouted me hot chocolate and I called my mum. While I could hear her voice through her beaming smile I cried. While my Dad laughed I cried.

For the next few days I was numb. I can’t really express how I felt. Shocked mostly. Scared. Worried. Nervous. I didn’t understand what was happening or why it had happened to us. It wasn’t until Simon received word back from his surgeon to say that he was one in a million and was in fact firing on all cylinders that I flipped a switch.

I went into check box mode, typical type A Helene, listing all the things I needed to do to prepare for this baby.

Have blood tests taken - CHECK
Name on daycare wait lists - CHECK
Contact Hospital for a spot in the birth centre - CHECK
Make a dating scan appointment - CHECK
Get prenatal vitamins - CHECK
Stop drinking alcohol, eating deli meats, soft cheeses and sushi - CHECK

There were moments I’d be so excited to be this lucky, like 1 in 1,000,000 kind of lucky, and in others I’d be left thinking about how much will change with a new baby and be a complete mess of emotion.

A few days later I received my blood test results. Being somewhat familiar with blood assays and biology I took one look at the hCg levels and my gut turned. They were high, too high and in that moment I felt nothing but panic, FUCK I thought. it's going to be twins.


 I rang my BFF again and asked her what her friends HCG levels were at 7 weeks with twins - over 150,000 she said, you're not having twins.....but I couldn't shake the feeling and I felt this way until my dating scan 2 weeks later. It was twins. I know its twins I'd keep saying.

I spent most nights vomiting, in bed by 7 and I just couldn’t keep up the way I used to. We explained to the kids around 8 weeks we were having a baby, they were convinced they wanted one each.

No kids, we only want 1 baby we'd say.

It was 9am on a Friday morning. From my LMP I’d put myself at around 9 ½ weeks. I took the kids off to meet their newest sibling at my dating ultrasound. I was convinced that this child was meant to be, that nothing would gone wrong because they had fought all the odds to be there already. I told Simon not to worry about attending, that he’d have another opportunity in 3 weeks at the 12 week scan.

The moment the sonographer zoomed over my belly, my panic from previous weeks was confirmed. The Sonographer congratulated me, the kids beamed and I burst into tears. DOUBLE FUCK.

Cooper in all his five years of wisdom proclaimed “but my mum doesn’t want two babies”.

It was twins.

From there I only remember hearing the words Fraternal and perfectly healthy and then the sonographer left me crying and alone.

Once again I called my best friend.

I'm not sure how I got home from that appointment, however I do remember Simon picking me up off the driveway and carrying me inside in a catatonic state of shock.

Dads and their Daughters

Last night as Simon and I talked while we watched TV he said something that I knew would be important to remember for the years ahead.   "I will love Zoe, I will support her, be there for her and love her but I know I'll never really understand her" he said......... wow I thought, that's one of the most honest and raw things I think I've ever heard Simon say about parenthood and it got me thinking.

Men who raise daughters, live surrounded only by women, I applaud thee!

Women are complex, confusing and often difficult to read – I know, because I am a woman and I am raising a woman.

I’ve had to stop myself from telling Cooper “darling don’t worry, she’s a girl and sometimes girls are like that” on many occasions.


Zoe like every other women in this world sometimes decides to change her mind, a lot, for no other reason but because she can.



Simon right now is in what I believe are the best few years for daddy and daughters to bond. In years to come I hope they remain as close as they are, that the gleam in both their eyes when they are together remains there through her toughest years. For him maybe understanding her isn't important, maybe the most important part of raising a daughter is supporting her, being there for her and loving her despite any flaws you might perceive she has.  Just a thought.