Sunday 11 September 2016

What to say and what not to say to a pregnant women

What to say
  • How are you feeling? I understand why friends who have never had kids and have never asked how you are feeling before don’t ask, they just wouldn’t think too. I was the same before kids, you have no idea. But this is a top tip. Maybe even call or text to ask if you haven’t seen them for a while.
  • You look great. Always compliment a pregnant women. I seem to get loads more comments on how I look really nice when I’m pregnant - its great! Some friends who  would never usually pay a compliment seem to shower me in them . Maybe because you look the size of a house and they are trying to make you feel better - who cares, I’ll take what I can get!
  • Are you free this weekend? Don’t stop asking a friend to do stuff when they are pregnant, this is when they need the most invitations to feel that people care and are supportive. Maybe suggest a lunch, the cinema or a something cultural on a weekend afternoon. 


What not to say
  • You look soooo tired.
  • Christ you are massive.
  • Don’t tell them that story of how your friend’s 5 month scan showed up deformities (told to me a week before my 5 month scan), or how your friends baby died at 38 weeks (told to me when I was 28 weeks pregnant) or how their baby died during childbirth (when 3 months pregnant). I know these things pop to mind when discussing babies, pregnancy and birth with a pregnant women but trust me this is not your audience.
  • How much weight have you put on so far?
  • Can you take this box to the stationary room please.
  • It’s your turn to wash up.


Saturday 3 September 2016

Gestational Diabetes, Me? No, surely not.

The first week of being told I had gestational diabetes was spent in care free denial. This must be a mistake - only over weight, unfit people who had a bad diet got diabetes. I thought that I should probably request another test as I had a really bad cold at the time and was using a throat spray when I was supposed to be fasting, maybe it was that which had tipped the reading over into the gestational diabetes range. I was fit, healthy and eat well. Admittedly the treats had increased with the pregnancy, to roughly a chocolate bar or equivalent every other day. I was embarrassed to tell people about this diagnosis as I thought it would make them think I was really unhealthy. I had been sent on the test as my 20 week scan showed that the babies tummy circumference was measuring on the larger side, on the 94th percentile. This didn’t worry me too much as my daughter had been born on the 98th percentile and I hadn’t had gestational diabetes then - big babies were in the family. 

The introduction to diabetes group chat at the hospital revealed that pregnancy hormones mean that the body needs 2-3 times more insulin to be able to process glucose in the blood, and if your body doesn’t produce enough too much glucose can remain which goes into the baby and can make them grow too big. You are more susceptible if you are overweight, are of certain ethnic origins, have previously had a big baby, or gestational diabetes before. As Erin was 9lb 9 ozs I thought maybe it was possible that I had it and that this was why. The first week using the blood test pricker thingy showed my blood was in healthy perimeters, I was testing the limits of this with larger portions of carbohydrates than recommended as there was still a niggling doubt in my mind that this may be a mistake. On Saturday night I treated myself to ice-cream and chocolate to see if that had an impact and got my first reading over the recommended highest value. Oh holly jesus I couldn’t eat any more ice cream! 
I went to the hospital for my appointment with the diabetes doctor a week later and thought maybe my results would show that there was little to worry about. Over a shock filled 40 minute appointment I was told that the glucose readings would increase as my pregnancy progressed no matter what exercise I did or how I managed my diet and that the majority of women end up taking tablets or insulin injections before they reach the end of their pregnancy. That there is a risk of the baby being still born, so they induce all women with gestational diabetes at 38 weeks.That the gestational diabetes would go once I had given birth but by the time I was 60 I would be guaranteed to have it no matter how I lived my life. The babies insulin could drop really low once its born so would need monitoring and may have to go to the special care unit. The baby would then be at higher risk of getting diabetes when it was older. The only good thing that came out of the meeting was that I was told that alcohol had no bearing on diabetes, although that gem wasn’t much used to me while I was still pregnant.
According to the doctor it must be in the family as i had the gene and pregnancy puts so much pressure on your body that it gives you a glimpse of what you will experience later in life, such as diabetes. So it would seem that this was a lot more serious than I had previously thought. It was all quite shocking and upsetting made more frustrating that a lot of things were taken out of my control.
My antenatal book was suddenly full of appointments for regular growth scans, meetings with the diabetes team and the obstetrician. This pregnancy was a whole different ball game from my first, 3 years ago which I sailed through without so much as a cold followed by a natural birth with gas and air.
I had always thought if I had to be induced, I’d rather have a planned c section as i had heard a lot of labours being hideous after being induced and end up in an emergency c section anyway. I started to wish I’d never watched one born every minute when you see them stretching the women to get the baby out during a c-section. So many questions floated through my mind - would I be able to breast feed? be in hospital for ages? be able to look after the baby and Erin whilst I recovered?
My boyfriends attitude of ‘lets get on with it’ and ‘it is what it is’ made me want to punch him in the face. The day after the revolutionary doctors appointment he told me there was no point dwelling on it - the day after - I think at least a week to digest would be more reasonable.
I did seek comfort in chocolate and ice cream during pregnancy which I always found quite lonely - the offers of going out dry up and you are left on the sofa with just ben, jerry and cadbury’s to look forward to at the end of the day or mark the start of the weekend instead of a beer.
Pregnancy was supposed to be a time to freely enjoy more chocolate and ice cream guilt free and now I couldn’t. My dreams of what I would eat once the baby arrived floated through my mind during cravings. I would probably be the one of the first woman to put on more weight after pregnancy than during. This truly sucked. It wasn’t just about sweets, it was a lot amount limiting your carbs, fruit and general portion control.
It was strange adjusting what you had previously thought as as healthy on top of what you already couldn’t eat because you were pregnant such as certain cheeses, smoked salmon etc.
I sometimes felt like I’d involuntarily left normal life, sitting in a coffee shop watching people eat sandwiches and share pieces of cake freely. I would sometimes forget and put sugar in my coffee and not even realise till I’d drank it.
Snacks to replace chocolate with - nuts, yogurt, fruit but only 2/3 pieces a day and not more than a handful portion. I could have eat all these by 2pm along with my lunch and still be hungry, what else was there left to eat. When I had mentioned this to the doctor his exact words were - ‘hunger is good for diabetes’ (but perhaps not for a pregnant women?) The nice thing is I get a scan every 4 weeks which is lovely, the second scan revealed his tummy had slimmed now slightly. I’m over the shock now and just getting on with it, but I have to think about it everyday and try and remember to do 4 blood tests, while dreaming of the pizza and beer I’m going to consume once the baby arrives.
On the whole sympathy is thin on the ground, and you just have to suck it up and get on with it. I know there are worst things that could happen but obviously a risk of a still born baby is not something to take lightly either. People telling me that what the diabetes doctor has told me was over the top and their friend who totally ignored their diagnosis had a perfectly healthy baby and natural labour and their knowledge from what they googled over a year ago when they had the test, which came back negative, is probably more reliable is not remotely helpful. 
Some are great at sympathising - ‘that must be such a worry’ or ‘how shit that you can’t eat as much ice cream or as many cookies as you want.’
Some people’s responses when I tell them stem from having just as little knowledge and as many presumptions that I had before I was diagnosed, such as ’ did you know that you can get this Chinese tea that takes the fat out of your blood’ or ‘but your feet don’t look swollen at all’. Or regaling you with a story of their second aunt removed that had a gluten intolerance, before offering you a slice of cake.
Time to stop talking about it and focus on my pizza, pasta, beer and chocolate ice cream party for one I’ll be having in a couple of months!

Friday 1 July 2016

How to be a twat in London

After 12 years of observing twatish behaviour in London, I've drawn up this quick 11 point guide for any aspiring twat out there in the city...
  1. Pretend not to see anyone elderly, pregnant or less able to stand on public transport, so you don’t have to give up your seat.
  2. Read your newspaper on the tube taking up a proportion of both seats to either side of yours with your elbows - your need for space is greater than theirs.
  3. Do not give an inch to a fellow pedestrian passing on the pavement - they should get out of your way (even if this means shoulder barging them).
  4. Don’t wear a helmet, but do wear headphones while you ride your bike in the middle of the road so cars can’t pass you.
  5. Don’t signal when driving or riding a bike - why the fuck should you.
  6. Don’t hold the door open for anyone behind you, its not like your ever going to see them again.
  7. Listen to your music really loud or even better - out of your phone without headphones and preferably on public transport, but any confined space will do.
  8. Don’t tell the barmaid that the man next to you was actually first and that they should serve them before you.
  9. Do not say thank you if anyone offers you their seat, holds a door open for you or tells the barmaid that you were there first.
  10. If anyone smiles at you give them the death stare back - you’ve had a shit day. Hell, even if they don’t smile, give them the death stare anyway.
  11. Walk across the road really slowly, the cars coming will just have to wait, do they not know who you are?
www.thepoke.co.uk


Sunday 12 June 2016

This time round

Hurrah! We are very happy to have a new (and final) addition to our little family on the way.

How I feel about pregnancy, labour and caring for a baby this time round is very different from the first, mostly to do with then - I knew nothing, and now - I know too much.

Alongside feeling very lucky and excited I am mostly shitting my pants with two thoughts dominating - can I do this again? how am I going to cope with two?

Ignorance is bliss - this saying aptly surmises my first pregnancy and my knowledge of what labour and looking after a baby would entail. Now thinking about baby number two I know a lot more - how much can go wrong, how hard work it is, how you worry, how tired you can be. Sometimes I’m not sure I would be able to do it without something having to give and the likelihood of that something being me. T
hat it would tip me over the edge of an ever increasing anxious disposition, into a downward spiral of depression. 

Maybe I’ve over thought it. Maybe having two wouldn’t be so different than having one. Maybe the first time it turned my life upside down, but the second time round it won't change as much as before as i’m already in the parenting world. The thought of a lonely, long maternity leave ahead worries me a bit. Unfortunately this one will again, start in the thick of winter. Where as I looked forward to my first maternity leave with similar excitement that I had for annual leave this time I know far better and worry for my sanity. I have a plan of attack - I need to occupy my brain more with music, radio, podcasts and reading as often as possibly. Not to be whole consumed by all things baby and try to utilise the creche at the local pool and gym for the odd 45 minutes of down time on Erin's nursery days. I think I got stuck in a rut last time of just lying staring at either Erin or the TV bleary eyed and I was probably in shock for a while too, without realising it. 

Things we did first time round that highlights our nativity:
  • Put 4 hours on the car when first arriving at the hospital in labour. Left three days later.
  • I thought labour couldn’t possibly be as painful as people talked about and wasn’t remotely worried.
  • When a baby was crying on public transport I used to wonder why their carer just simply didn’t make it stop - tut, tut (in my head). 
What I will try and do differently this time round:
  • Try and relax during contractions and actually think about the golden light and wave I’d been listening to on the hypnobirthing cd every day for weeks.
  • Enjoy the amount of flexibility I had during the first 4/5 months, compared to now on Erin's nursery days. Even though I'll, no doubt, be very tired. It felt so hard last time, but looking back it was easier than dealing with a toddler!
  • Try to do some of the things that I like doing, with baby of course, make the most of what London has to offer, rather than pacing the local streets on nap inducing walks staring at cherries on cherry trees like a crazy person on drugs (I had never actually seen cherries growing on trees before but I think just how much it blue me away highlights the fact that I needed to get out and about more on a couple of not wholly baby focused activities).










Tuesday 10 May 2016

Returning to work after maternity leave

After a whopping 14 months off on maternity leave it was time to return to work. My life had changed unrecognisable over the last year - my priorities, my outlook, what I considered important and what I didn’t. I was more focused on settling Erin into nursery than worrying too much about it. Before I left work was OK. I never loved it, but never hated it either. It was a pretty good job with many perks such as flexible working hours and working from home days, although I still thoroughly enjoyed my days off and weekends. I was very excited about the prospect of not going there for 14 months when I was pregnant. 14 months felt like so long and this having a baby malarkey seemed such a massive, all consuming deal I wondered if I’d ever go back. After all it seemed that the world continued to turn, time ticked over and it was time to go back. No I hadn’t won the lotto or any day time TV competitions in order not to.
Dolly Parton in working 9 - 5
I would see people that I hadn’t seen for a while so wanted to look good. What you want is – "welcome back", but more importantly, “you look great!”. It's like seeing anyone you haven’t seen for a while, you don’t want them to think, "fucking hell what has happened to Janet’’. This involved buying some good under eye cream and doing a few exercise classes.

I had been mostly in a totally different social environment for over a year, where you can launch into conversations at baby play groups with total strangers about poohs and sore nipples. Getting used to the old social acceptabilities of a professional working environment again took some concentration - not announcing to my colleagues that I am going for a pooh or that Erin has been constipated for 3 days or adjusting my bra at my desk. The sound track to my life was now wind the bobbin up and sleeping bunnies so these were regularly on repeat in my head during team meetings or important phone calls.

Even though I had got used to the amount of time it now took to leave the house, it still took some adapting to the military style organisation required in the mornings to a tighter time scale getting myself and Erin ready and over to nursery and then myself over to work. 

Another initial difficulty was getting used to doing a full day in the office again. On occasions in the afternoons if I was tired and had lost the concentration needed to be really productive I would think I should probably just go. It was really odd to get used to the fact that I had to stay until the end of the day even if I didn’t feel like it.

Things I never appreciated about work until after maternity leave: 
  • going to the toilet on my own
  • eating when I was hungry
  • using my brain
  • drinking numerous hot drinks at my leisure - some in the form of fancy takeaway ones - what decadence it is to be in the working (civilised) world again! 
  • LUNCH BREAKS! Time to browse shops, have a nice lunch out, go to the gym or perhaps look at the internet - in the middle of the day! 
  • listening to music or the radio while working
  • sitting down for long periods of time
  • having adult conversations not about sleep, weaning, milk, teething, poohing, crawling, walking, talking

Read more....



Monday 7 March 2016

London Life with Baby

Life in (the generally hostile) London changed for me once I had Erin. Actually it started once I began to show during pregnancy. My favourite change was it gave me a free pass to talk to strangers without them thinking that I was a) crazy, b) hitting on them, or c) about to rob them. I was always comfortable striking up conversations at bars (not like that), bus stops, changing rooms, trains, wherever really but once I was pregnant/with baby the overall response was much more positive and less suspicious. I guess this is what old ladies feel like as everyone is nice to them too. Maybe people now consider you a ‘low risk’ member of society. There is so much more love around, people offering you their seats on the tube when pregnant or a helping hand with getting your buggy off the bus with your baby. Its also easy for people to strike up conversations with you too, asking questions like, when are you due? how old is she? oooo she is so cute! Lots of people have children in their life and can relate to you. People just smiling at you when you access a soft play area or they too have a child around the same age - I now have a special two year old shaped pass to a far friendlier world.

I just got home from a weekend in Hampshire where I had to get the tube from Walthamstow to Waterloo then the train to Winchester. On the tube in rush hour we had a few smiles from fellow passengers and had two lovely chats to two different women instigated by having Erin sat on my knee.  Two more waves and smiles from two different tube drivers. More waves and smiles from the signalling staff at Waterloo station who saw us off on the train. A chat with two more people on the train itself instigated by Erin asking who they were and what they were doing.


Another major bonus of having a child is the numerous opportunities to be childish with no one judging you! The only people who truly don’t give a shit of what other people think of them are children and old people. Erin recently dragged me to my feet in a trendy coffee shop as she wanted to dance to the music that was playing, and I thought, why not! Its not everyday I get a chance to do this! Singing nursery rhymes walking along the road, playing peek a boo, chasing each other, stuff that is really fun but just doesn’t wash with your friends is brilliant.

Another change neither good nor bad which is handy sometimes, and absolutely nothing to do with living in London, is how I can now communicate with my boyfriend via Erin, for example when trying to deflect Erin’s attentions away from me in order to steel a few moments of peace - ‘’Daddy will get you a bread stick if your hungry Erin’’. Or to have convey my annoyance with him while avoiding direct confrontation -  ‘’No you can’t have your rabbit teddy Erin as daddy left it at Grandma’s house’’.

On the downside, and not necessarily just London centric, but I don’t have anything to compare it to, was that some health care professionals I would come across during the numerous first year medical checks and appointments would talk to me like I was slightly retarded. Being seen as off work and caring for a new baby full time instead of being seen in a working world as a professional I was then viewed as just a mother and for some this seemed to be considered to go hand in hand with being stupid.

Another downer is trying to get a parking space somewhere near my house on a packed permit free road less than 10 minutes from a tube station - especially important when you have a screaming baby in the car that you can’t tend to until you park - leading to fantasies of private driveways and garages of the suburbs, wouldn't that be amazing!

The End 
(Sorry about this but I have been sitting on this one for ages and couldn’t think of a tidy ending! Couldn’t think of a snappy title either - oh well its the middle that counts)

Monday 15 February 2016

Finding motherhood a struggle at times

I said to a friend the other day that my rest days are going to work and she said she felt the same but had never felt comfortable saying it to anyone. We didn’t get into the reasons why as we were having the usual broken conversation jugging keeping our toddlers in check plus feeding them and ourselves.
It started me thinking that its a real shame how women don’t feel they can be honest about finding it hard and that they have struggled at times. I definitely found it harder than I anticipated and have been pushed to my absolute limits.

I think there are probably two reasons why most people, including myself, don’t want to say, firstly is the worry that complaining about motherhood might be interpreted by some as meaning that you don’t appreciate it, value it or perhaps even regret having your child. Of course you would hate someone to think that as its totally untrue and you love them to bits.

The other for me is the fear of being judged - to be thought of as a bad mother. That the other person you confide in finds it much easier to deal with their child than you and won’t have a clue what your talking about but just think you must be rubbish. Maybe some babies are more difficult than others, maybe some people do struggle more, but no one is doing a better job than anyone else. No ones choices on how they rear their child are better, there is no right or wrong, no one loves their child more or less than others. There should be no measure or comparison or judgement only support and sympathy.

One day when my boyfriend returned from work after Erin had been especially grizzly that day I popped to the shop to get loo roll and to get some fresh air. I was surprised to find as I walked along the road and the sound of crying faded away that the world was still turning. After leaving the shop to return home, I walked past the pub and suddenly found myself at the bar ordering a pint. I sat quietly watching the buses and people go by, a group chatting in the corner, still revelling in how normal the rest of the world still was. I text my boyfriend a picture of pint and said I’d be home in half an hour. Half an hour later I returned refreshed and revived. Just taking a step away sometimes is all that I needed to regroup.

The key factor for me on how well I cope is tiredness, its hard to cope with stressful situations (a baby crying for hours with colic) or be rational at times when your bloody knackered. Sometimes I’ll be pushing the buggy along and just have an overwhelming urge to just lye on the ground and image just lying there, invisible with people just walking past me - what does this mean? You can’t just sit on the sofa and have a little rest when you feel like it with a child, you have to keep going.

Having a baby is so all consuming, there is little to no ‘downtime’ which was one of my pre baby favourite things! Staring out of windows of a pub or coffee shop at the passing world, reading, watching tv, waking up at 11am etc, etc, etc, etc, etc. Child rearing for me took some acclimatising to and I find it hard some days- does this mean I love my child less than someone who breezes through motherhood (is anyone who breezes through out there?) - no of course not.

I think its half self inflicted for me as I think that people will think badly of me and not understand, but maybe if I opened up they wouldn’t judge me but show me sympathy and support not bounce home revelling in the knowledge they are doing so much better than me at this motherhood malarky.

I wish I had piped up about this sooner, when I was on maternity leave. I should have put myself out there more really, but my confidence was at a low and I struggled through, it seems easier to say now. And I think the reason I have had the confidence is to know there is someone out there who feels the same as me. And i hope that writing this might help others know that too.

Sunday 24 January 2016

The 10 stages of tiredness

I really like my sleep, I know most people do. I don’t think I’ve heard anyone say, “I do not like my sleep, I prefer to sleep as little as possible.” I’m pretty sure I need around 9 hours a night to be firing on all cylinders - turbo charge. And at least 8 - 8.5 to be firing on 80% of cylinders. Christ knows how Margaret Thatcher did it is all I can say. Having Erin has introduced me to the several new stages on my tiredness spectrum. Here they are:
  1. Fogginess, kind of like moving in slow motion through thick clouds. Being asleep yet with your eyes open and making breakfast.
  2. Not being able to concentrate on anything for more than 3 seconds such as, walking away from cooking food to put washing out and totally forgetting about food until you can smell burning or asking someone a question and listening to them answer it having forgotten what you’d asked them.
  3. Not being able to retain thoughts for more than 3 seconds, for example, walking into a room purposefully and having no idea why your there.
  4. Irrational irritability with fellow pedestrians that just happen to be in your way, or someone that is hogging the swings at the park.
  5. Edginess - jumping at noises that are a normal part of your daily life, like the kettle boiling, or the washing machine beeping when it finishes its cycle.
  6. Crying at adverts, the news, soap operas.
  7. Finding an alternative (negative) meaning for everything some one says.
  8. Finding everything some one says incredible annoying.
  9. Seeing things moving out the corners of your eyes that aren’t actually moving.
  10. Crying but not knowing why.
6.30am flight to Minorca. Around stage 5.

Monday 18 January 2016

What no one tells you - Part One: Worry

I wasn’t much of a worrier before I had Erin then after a pretty laid back first few months of Erin’s life the worry gradually crept in.

My boyfriend and I had muddled through together during his paternity leave but once he returned to work I had slowly become number one decision maker and carer of this tiny person the majority of the time. Having debates in my head on a daily basis about whether I was making the right decisions and worrying that I had not usually over seemingly small things - socks or no socks? long sleeves or short sleeves? and that was before I had even started getting Erin dressed. Am I doing all the things I should be doing with her for her age? If I don’t sign her up for this music and movement class will I permanent stunt her developmental growth!? Should I leave now, but if she falls asleep in the buggy its too early for her nap and it will screw up the whole day and nights sleep but if I don’t leave now I’ll be late!?

When she was a few months old we arranged for a family member to baby sit for us one Saturday afternoon so we could go for a meal and to the theatre in town. I excitedly expressed all week in preparation. As we walked to the tube it felt slightly wrong and I didn’t really feel excited anymore, just worried. We had a nice dinner at Bodean’s restaurant and then a couple of drinks at a bar in soho, this is when we should have probably gone home but we had theatre tickets booked. I sat watching the show, feeling my boobs throbbing just counting down the minutes until it had finished. I considered asking my boyfriend if we could go but I didn’t want to ruin the afternoon.

The worrying for me has definitely got less consuming as she has got older. And many successful nights out and even an Erin free (and worry free) holiday followed. There have also been phases or worry which have past as Erin has grown such as - is she eating too much? the right things? what if she chokes! during the weaning phase but my two main reoccurring worries that have remained fairly consistent since she was born are:

1. The - is she too hot or is she too cold - circle of worry

A constant worry whatever the weather. As winter set in last year I sat on the sofa in the evening, turned to my boyfriend and asked ‘“should I put a blanket on Erin, do you think she might be cold?” He replied: ‘’Nooo, she’s fine” turning back to the tv and obviously not giving it any more thought. After a minute or two more thought on my part - She has a fleece pyjama top on, but thinner pyjama bottoms and a grow bag, so her feet may be a little chilly - I went up stairs, sneaked into the room and put a blanket over her lower half. Yes thats better. Return to sofa. Think to myself - but what if she gets too hot with the blanket over her? - return to bed room to remove blanket. Return to sofa. Keeping thinking about it - actually it is very chilly tonight I don’t want her to get cold feet. Go back upstairs to return blanket. Return to sofa. Think Umm the heating control thingy that is set to keep the temperature at 18.5 degrees is on the top of the chest of drawers on the opposite side of her room, her cot is also quite low, so it will be colder there - return to room to put heating controller under her cot on the floor. Return to sofa. Think - What if the heating control gives out carcinogenic signals similar to mobile phones - its right under Erin’s head! Return to room to return heating control to top of chest of drawers. Return to sofa.

2. The - getting them to sleep/please don’t wake up/should I wake them up now - roller coaster of napping:

Erin was was a pretty good sleeper when she was born, as far as babies go, gradually building up her sleep per night and not needing as many feeds as the first 4 months past. The ‘week by week’ book I had brought on bringing Erin home from the hospital revealed in manageable weekly chunks that she was on track without me doing anything at all. Then the 4 month sleep regression hit, and by 6 months old when ever she was placed in her cot at bedtime already asleep she would wake up so we were forced into sleep training her. This involved me pacing the garden so as not to listen to the crying while my boyfriend checked on her - coming to tell me when she was asleep and it was safe to re-enter the house. This process worked really well for us and had the added bonus of when Erin got to sleep on her own would sleep for much longer too.

Nap time

I decided this was also the time to get into a nap routine. The napping schedule was a daily roller coaster of firstly getting her to sleep at the right time, and once asleep keeping an eye on the time (come on you can get at least an hour), please postman, bin men don’t come now, why is that man sawing in his back garden now the selfish bastard! Then, christ its been an hour and a half, should I wake her up? One nap a day since she was one was much more manageable and consistent and I have got used to our days revolving around this time which is an enjoyable break for both of us! Please never end…

Even if someone had told me about the worrying you do when you have children, I don’t think I would have really got it until I’d lived it.

Read some of my favourite posts... 

Sunday 3 January 2016

My top newborn tips


  • If you run out of breast pads, a cut up sanitary pad works just as well until you can get to the shop.
  • Do NOT let your baby fall asleep on you after feeding before checking the remote is in arms reach - you could be stuck watching Top Gear or Doctors.
  • Slings seem such a great idea right? No one wants to become one of those annoying mums with a buggy who gets in the way at the shops and on the bus, but carrying a baby weighing over 10/11 lbs further than a couple of hundred metres from your house is quite hard work on the back and shoulders especially as your core may be shot to shit from labour. If you then hit the shops, you could have a baby on the front, nappy change bag on the back, a shopping back in each hand, then the baby cries and you have to get her out, shopping bags onto the floor, then it starts raining and you have to hold an umbrella! OK that’s a worse case scenario. Slings are no doubt handy at times, but if your like me you may not use it as much as you planned too or for as long as you thought. 
  • Buy a raincoat with a substantial hood - its much easier steering a buggy with two rather than one hand if the other is tied up holding an umbrella.
  • Having a globe night light in Erin's room enabled me to learn all the countries of the world during night feeds, utilise this time! This could be the perfect opportunity to learn another language like you always said you would – the cup is half full – yeah!

Erin learning the countries too

  • Enjoy the first 4/5 months of still being able to do all the things you used to do, go for lunch, shopping, cinema, coffee shops, watch films and tv while your baby needs little entertainment. Soon your life will become a blur of singalongs, weaning, play dates and nap schedules.

  • I downloaded a kindle app onto my i pad which was incredibly handy to read on while breast feeding, as you only need one hand – you will be doing this A LOT so at least you can read (check Facebook) at the same time.

Some of my favourite posts...