Five years later…

“Suicide does end the chances of life getting worse. But it does eliminate the chances of it ever getting better”

It’s that time of year again. Maybe sometime, I’ll shut up about it. But all the time I know that I might be helping someone else by talking about my experiences, I’ll share them.

  • In April 2011, I started to notice severe symptoms of depression within myself, after 5 years of battling with self harm.
  • December 2012, I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and given 6 months of Sertraline.
  • May 15th 2013, my mental illness took over and I decided to act on my negative feelings in attempt to end everything, as a result I was hospitalised.
  • A minimum of six disastrous months on several antidepressants that did nothing for me.
  • March 26th 2016, I was diagnosed with PND, GAD and PTSD following a traumatic labour.
  • June 2016, it was suggested that I could have BPD
  • 1 year of mirtazapine and a 4 stone weight gain.
  • January 29th 2018, I was diagnosed with Cyclothymic disorder (a milder, yet more chronic form of Bipolar Disorder) and Borderline Personality Disorder.

To me May 15th 2013 was like a semi colon (;) , representing where my story could have ended, but instead continued.

Five years on is such a bitter sweet feeling. Not only am I proud, when I think about how far I’ve come. But I am pained when I think that it’s taken me 5 years to get close to the help that I need and deserve.

The contrast between wanting to die and not being able to – with wanting to be alive and almost dying numerous times due to things that are out of your control is terrifying. It really reiterates how quickly your life can go full circle in such a short space of time.

I remember, sitting there in hospital wishing that I’d have died. Wishing so much that I could have just let go. I was convinced that I’d never get better. That I’d never feel better. That I’d never get a correct diagnosis. That i’d never get the help that I needed. I was in the bottom of a pit. There wasn’t a way out.

I have received my correct diagnosis and had many other mental health struggles since my most serious suicide attempt. I’d go as far to say that life since has been harder than I ever imagined. My pain hadn’t peaked on that night, I didn’t realise the depths of despair I’d get to – but my resilience and strength has just kept growing. Of course my mental health relapses due to the cyclical nature of my diagnoses. But, even when I feel like the worst person in the world with nowhere to go- I look at my baby and know that I at least got something right. Her smiles brighten my day and her laugh brings tears of joy to my eyes. Most days, just getting out of bed hurts and exhausts me so much I can barely carry on. but I constantly WORK so HARD to just keep going.

Anyone can go through a mental health issues or illnesses, it’s a hell of an ordeal. Recovery can be lifelong. Most days are a challenge, but there’s always days worth fighting for. This is anything but a cry out for attention, I just want anyone going through the same to know they’re not alone. Your experiences make you, who you are. You owe it to yourself to live for another day and give yourself another chance.

“Keep strong little fighter, soon it’ll be brighter.”

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Hyperemesis Gravidarum Awareness Day

HG Awareness Day, also known as Hyperemesis Gravidarum Awareness Day, is being observed today! It has been observed annually on May 15th since 2012 to raise awareness of a dangerous and chronic condition that plagues many pregnant women.

Here is Mummykind’s H to G (well, more A-Z!) of Hyperemesis Gravidarum for HG awareness day! 

H Hospitalisation – In more severe cases of HG, a woman may require hospitalisation. Treatment for this may include tube feeding and intravenous fluids to restore lost nutrients and hydration to both mother and baby.
Y– You. As an individual you know the limit that you can get to before needing help- bare in mind that with another little life thrown into the mix, you may need to seek help more quickly than you would do if you only had yourself to look after. A good rule to stick to, is if you’d need a doctor for a condition if you weren’t pregnant, you definitely need one if you’re are pregnant. Self care is important, look after yourself!
P– Peppermint – Interestingly peppermint tea can be used to combat nausea and often can alleviate sickness symptoms, even if only for a short while. However using mint toothpaste is one of the biggest triggers for nausea in pregnant women!
E– Everybody – HG does not discriminate , an body can fall victim to Hyperemesis and it’s debilitating symptoms.
R– Royalty – Kate Middleton, the Duchess or Cambridge has suffered with HG and Severe morning sickness with all three of her pregnancies. Although I hate to think about how unwell she must have felt and how hard it must be to suffer HG in the public eye- I’m very grateful for the awareness she has raised for this debilitating condition!
E- Emotions – Hyperemesis gravidarum can make sufferers unable to do even the most basic of tasks, simply going to work can be impossible for some women. This makes many sufferers feel depressed and unhappy. These feelings could develop into postnatal depression, so it’s a good idea to seek support with a counsellor or see a doctor for anti-depressants.
M– Morning Sickness – 80% of all women experience morning sickness in the first 3 months of their pregnancies. only 2% of pregnancies are affected by Hyperemesis Gravidarum.
E-  Empathy – If someone in your life is experiencing HG try hard to be empathetic. Offer to help when and if you can. I faced so much stigma when I had HG because people around me just didn’t understand. The last thing a lady suffering from HG wants to hear is “well, I had morning sickness and I was fine.”… HG and morning sickness are worlds apart!!!

S- Sickness – About 45% of pregnant women suffer from nausea with vomiting while an additional 25% suffer with nausea only.
I- Impact – Thankfully there are no known links between HG and adverse effects for the foetus.
S – Safe – There is a significant decreased risk in fetal loss among women with HG versus women who do not vomit during pregnancy.
G- Go Galllll! – Hyperemesis is debilitating, if you’ve had HG and you’re here to tell the tale (or been brave enough to go on and have another baby!)- give yourself a massive pat on the back. You’re so much stronger than you know!
R- Rest – Bed rest is commonly prescribed to women with the HG and can be vital in helping to regain strength.
A- Amy – Mummykind’s own Amy and Harriet have experienced HG first hand.
V- Vomiting – Lightheadedness, nausea, fatigue, exhaustion, dehydration, vomiting and fainting are the most common symptoms and characteristics of HG.
I- IV – In severe cases of HG intravenous fluids have to be administered under inpatient conditions to keep ladies and their unborn babies hydrated.
D- Differences – Those with morning sickness suffer from nausea, but may not always experience vomiting. Usually, the condition lasts during the first trimester, yet some women experience it beyond the initial 12 weeks of pregnancy. Women who do vomit are unlikely to become dehydrated. In contrast, HG results in severe vomiting and, for some women, constant nausea. The condition can last for the entirety of pregnancy and can lead to extreme dehydration. It can also result in the loss of 5 percent or more of a woman’s pre-pregnancy weight and aversions to certain foods.
A- All associated symptoms – A full list of symptoms consists of… dehydration, malnutrition
weight loss, slowed metabolism, increased heart rate,
bloodshot eyes,
stress and depression,
heartburn, reflux, stomach ulcers, constipation, ketosis,
deep vein thrombosis,
hallucinations,
low birth weight in the baby and premature birth.

R- Re occurrence – Around 80% of women who experience HG in their first pregnancy will go o
n to experience it in their next.

U- Untreated – Fortunately, unborn babies won’t be affected unless the nausea and vomiting goes untreated for an extremely long time period. The majority of babies will get the nutrients they need from the reserves stored in their mother’s body at the mother’s expense – this means her teeth and bones can become brittle, and her hair and skin can become dry and dull.
M- Motion Sickness – Traditional Motion / Travel Sickness remedies can often be beneficial to women suffering from HG. Peppermint and ginger teas. Ginger products like sweets, gum or biscuits and even anti travel sickness wrist bands have been used by women to ease HG symptoms.

Mental Health Monday – Self Care Days.

Today was a really difficult day Mental Health wise.

I’ve been a bit weepy and for once – I didn’t hide it from Florence. Instead, I actively involved her in a self care day.

I told her that I had a difficult phone call and that I was a little bit sad, so we were going to be spending the day doing things to make us feel good about ourselves.

We had a lovely bath with a Lush bath bomb, it reminded us of the sea and we played with boats. We had a splash war. We used my special Lush shampoo, conditioner and posh body wash. We brushed each others hair and dried it with the hair dryer. We put on some perfume. We read stories and looked at photos of people and things that make us happy (dogs, cats, trains, Grandma, Grandpa, dogs, ‘Ick’, dogs, cats and trains..) . We wore our pjs all day and changed into a snuggly fresh set after our bath. We made smoothies and had some naughty chocolate coins. We cuddled, we played, we watched the choo choo trains on YouTube and we laughed.

I want to raise a mentally resilient little girl. I will always be open about my Mental Health – even if I’m going to have to come up with the occasional euphemism to make what I’m feeling more age appropriate. There will be no Mental Health stigma in our household and she will always know that it’s okay to take some time to feel like you again.

Thank you for being my everything – Florence. You always get me, back to me.

This post was written as part of our Raising Healthy Minds campaign

Things to remember when you fall out of love with someone you thought you’d love forever.

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Things to remember when you fall out of love with someone you thought you’d love forever. 
  1. Your worth hasn’t decreased due to their inability to see how valuable you are. Whether they’ve dropped a diamond whilst flicking through pebbles or they’ve neglected the best thing that’s ever happened to them- it is their problem and not yours! 
  2. Your ability to love so relentlessly, passionately and fearlessly is a strength. Not a weakness. You have SO MUCH to give. Never let anybody tell you any different. 
  3. Try to let go of the hurt. Holding onto it is only hurting you. Easier said than done, but whilst you’re replaying scenarios- they probably can’t even remember the half of the struggles they’ve caused you! 
  4. You will love again. It seems impossible, but you will. You have no idea of who or what could be around the corner for you. You have no idea of the love and adoration you might find it you just let yourself try. 
  5. Celebrate all of the good things you’ve done together. They’re still achievements. At one time, you made the best team- if you’re coparenting the chances are that you’re still a sturdy unit. You’re allowed to be proud of all the wonderful things you’ve done together.  
  6. Even if you’re angry, even if you’re hurting. Don’t throw away a chance of friendship with the one who once meant the world to you. Try not to regret anything, even a bad ending doesn’t have to spoil great times, triumphs and memories. 
  7. Give yourself all the time you think you need to heal. Let yourself hurt, let yourself cry. You are more entitled to everything you are feeling. Don’t give yourself the “so and so had it worse” treatment- stop belittling your pain, it’s not a healthy way of dealing with things! 
  8. If there are children involved, never let either party or their families speak badly of the other. This breeds distrust between both parties, a quick nasty comment can drop out of an angry mouth in a heart beat- but the chances of it being forgotten by an impressionable child? Not likely! I’m not saying to necessarily hide the hurt you’re feeling from your children or the heart break your feeling, as these are great lessons of resilience and overcoming emotional turmoil- just keep hurtful truths and hyperbolic stories away from minds that can buy too much into them.  
  9. Remember that everything you’ve felt with with person, everything you’ve been through- is an example of better things to come. Keep reminding yourself that better things are just around the corner. that relationship and the subsequent breakup could be exactly what you needed to go out and find the better things.
  10. Let the pain remind you that your heart can heal. The likelihood is you’ve hurt like this before and maybe you will again. You’re alive to feel so many different emotions, to experience so many different experiences- life is like a cardiograph, the ups and downs are just a good sign that we’re still alive- kicking and fighting. 
  11. I’ll reiterate- PLEASE never, ever forget your worth. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever. You are so worthy. Scream it from the rooftops until you believe it!

Thinking about you…

Harriet’s thoughts on motherhood…

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THINKING ABOUT YOU

The following words are a cliché, but I promise they’re all true…

I never really knew who I was, or what I wanted to be until the day I held you.

At first, just your existence made me feel complete as you thrived from within my tummy.

But since you’ve been born, I love you more every day. Nothing beats being your Mummy.

I don’t think that I’d ever be able to fully describe the adoration that I have for you.

But my sweet girl, I hope I’ll be able to prove it, in all of the things I do.

Knowing that I managed to make something, so unbelievably perfect fills me with pride.

I know that being a mummy can be daunting, almost scary at times- but I’m loving my little tour guide.

Showing you off to the world makes me so proud, you’re so beautiful, so intricate, so clever and so chatty.
I don’t know what I did to deserve such an incredible princess, but I’ve never been so happy.
Your toothy grin and your little laugh- everything you do, I completely adore, no matter how strange.

Everything I do, I do for you. Baby girl, that’ll never change.

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Have you checked your lemons, melons or mangos? 

How many of us ladies can honestly say that we check ourselves out frequently? When did you last check? I know that we’re not quite as bad as the boys at checking ourselves… But I am very aware that I personally only ever used get round to doing it when I get reminded by online campaigns

CHECK. YOUR BOOBS png

As it is breast cancer awareness week, I thought i’d share my scare experience with our readers in the hope that it might encourage some of you to get checked out, if you’re having any breast related worries!

A few months ago, I finally made the big step in getting myself checked out after having a boobie scare. Why am I telling you lucky lot about it?! Because changes to our breasts honestly need to be spoken about more!

How many of us ladies can honestly say that we check ourselves out frequently? When did you last check? I know that we’re not quite as bad as the boys at checking ourselves… But I am very aware that I personally only ever used get round to doing it when I get reminded by online campaigns etc.

I saw the image above, on Facebook and decided that it was time to confront one of the changes I had noticed since having Florence nearly a year and a half ago. I knew that changes in your breasts and breast tissue was very common after large hormonal changes, like having a baby, but worried because I had a mark that looked like a cross between what these two lemons depicted…

Lovely I know,  but I have no time to blush when I’m here to inform! 

 

I called up my local doctors practice and asked for an appointment to discuss a concern I had with one of my breasts. I was told that as no female doctors were in and that there wasn’t a chaperone available, that I’d have to wait for the duty doctor to call me the following day and book me in, to see a lady. I said that as I was so concerned, I didn’t mind who I discussed my worries with but that I’d prefer to be checked over by a female when I came to practice.

Sure enough, the duty doctor called me the very next morning. I explained my worries over the phone and put me down for an appointment to see a lady doctor for less than an hour later. So off I went!

She asked me what my concerns where and tried to make me feel comfortable before instructing me to remove my upper layers and lye down on the examination table to be checked over. She checked my nipples, breast, armpits and even commented on how my glands felt perfectly normal.

The changes that I had been so worried about, was slight scar tissue, all caused by to me trying to breast feed and pump for almost two months with no supply. She told me that this was nothing to worry about but well worth getting checked out.

I am so relived that my scare was down to nothing more sinister and felt pleased that I had finally been brave enough to seek some help and advice for my worries.

The doctor explained how I could check myself and said that either in the shower, bath, lying or sitting down in bed whilst relaxed would be the perfect time to check myself and to try and do it as frequently as possible (but to aim for once a week!).

How do you check yourself? 

Strictly speaking, there is no right or wrong way to check your breasts. It is so important to know what your breasts usually look and feel like. Then you’ll be more likely to spot any changes quickly and get help from to your GP.

The NHS state that a good way check yourself is to “Look at your breasts and feel each breast and armpit, all the way up to your collarbone. You may find it easiest to do this in the shower or bath, by running a soapy hand over each breast and up under each armpit.
You can also look at your breasts in the mirror. Look with your arms by your side and also with them raised.”

So- when should we seek help or advice from a GP? If you experience any of the following symptoms make sure you book to see your GP as soon as possible…

  • a change in size or shape
  • a lump or area that feels thicker than the rest of the breast
  • a change in skin texture such as puckering or dimpling (like the skin of an orange)
  • redness or rash on the skin and/or around the nipple
  • your nipple has become inverted (pulled in) or looks different in any way.
  • liquid or any discharge that comes from the nipple without squeezing.
  • pains or pangs in your breast or your armpit
  • a swelling in your armpit or around your collarbone.

Any of these changes could be down to normal bodily hormonal changes like puberty, pregnancy, labour, breast feeding or menopause- but please, if anything is new or is worrying you, GET CHECKED OUT…

Useful links-

NHS information about Breast Cancer.
Breast Cancer Care Org

Thank you for reading!
(Please remember that you can never be too safe!)

Baby Loss Awareness Week ‘17

This is for the families of babies born too small, born too sick or born sleeping. For, the 1 in 4 women- who have carried a baby that she never got to meet, that she never got to watch grow. For all of the broken hearts, tears, pain, loneliness, loss of hope, isolation that losing a baby causes.

I know SO many (painfully far too many), incredible families and amazing women who have had to face this pain. Women who have had one or multiple miscarriages. Women who have had babies born too small to survive. Women whose babies have been born sleeping. Women whose babies were born appearing healthy, but never made it home. Often these women feel like they have to grieve silently, they feel numb, they need far more support. So many of these women manage to keep holding on, when it must feel like they are falling apart.

I had a substantially large bleed at the start of my pregnancy with Florence (around 7 weeks), which was put down to the loss of a second baby. This is something that it took me a year and a half to even discuss with anybody- I constantly convinced myself that surely I don’t deserve to be upset over this? That as I’ve got Florence I should just put up and shut up? It’s so incredibly hard to know how quite how to deal with these feelings, but depriving myself of a right to feel was just about the worst way to go about processing such an ordeal. I now know that I shouldn’t be shutting any of these feelings away, I’m entitled to every single emotion I have felt and every emotion there is left to feel. I’m no longer convincing myself every time I hear bloody “everything happens for a reason” out of the fear of sounding unappreciative or ungrateful. I count my blessings for having Florence in my life every single day, because no medical professional could make sense of quite how she managed to stay. This was one of the reasons it took me so long to announce my pregnancy. I was convinced that I would lose her. I feel that I am often referred to as ‘melodramatic’ when I refer to my daughter as a ‘miracle’- but when I think of everything we’ve been through and that she’s still here, I really feel that I am the luckiest Mummy alive.

If your pain demands to be felt- Feel it. You’re not alone. You’re never alone! Please enable yourself to feel. Please never feel that you’re not allowed to be pained or upset because ‘you already have children’ or any other reasons you may find to invalidate your own feelings at an already very painful and very difficult time. Talking to my counsellor and being open with my amazing Mum- Was the best thing I could have done for myself and I wish I did it a lot sooner.

Lots of love to all of the mummies we know; your family, children, babies and angel babies are in our heart and prayers this week and always.

Everything You Need to Put in Your Birthing Plan

A plan is just that, rough guidelines of what we wish and for what we want to happen. Even if I didn’t get all of my birthing plan, I found that having one was good for my anxiety, especially in regards to being Strep B positive. You might even find this helpful as a template for your own birthing plan! 

I wanted to be sure that I had a concrete copy of my birthing plan, I thought that they’d be no better place to keep it than our ‘Mummykind’ blog . A plan is just that, rough guidelines of what we wish and for what we want to happen. Even if I didn’t get all of my birthing plan, I found that having one was good for my anxiety, especially in regards to being Strep B positive. You might even find this helpful as a template for your own birthing plan! 
Birthing Plan
Important things to note-
  • I am due to have my baby on the 02/02/16.
  • I am a high risk pregnancy, due to SPD, increased blood pressure, hypothyroidism, PCOS, weight fluctuation and spinal injury (1 x herniated and 2 x prolapsed spinal discs)
  • I am STREP B POSITIVE. Please treat me during my labour to prevent this from making my baby unwell.
Environment-
  • I plan to give birth in the William Harvey Hospital on the labour ward.
  • I am expecting to have to stay in overnight.
  • Where it is possible, I would like to be in a private room.
  • I may wish to listen to music during labour.
Companions-
  • I would like my Mother to be present at all times during my labour.
  • I would like my partner to be present at all times during my labour.
  • My family can visit me in the hospital.
Foetal Monitoring-
  • Due to 4 episodes of decreased movement throughout my pregnancy, I would like to be monitored as often as possible. However, due to my back being painful, I would like to be free to move as much as I can.
During Labour-
    • I would like to be able to move and walk around freely.
  • This is because lying flat is painful with my spinal and disc issues.
  • I am open to trying different birthing positions that I might find more comfortable.
  • Please encourage me to move, even if it is painful for me to do so.
  • Please remind me to drink regularly and use the bathroom.
  • If at all possible, I would like to avoid a c-section birth. I do however, understand that a c-section isn’t a choice.
Pain Relief-
  • To be discussed with the consultant.
  • I have been cleared by my spinal specialist for an epidural if it is needed.
  • I would really like to avoid the use of pethridine if at all possible.
Assisted Delivery –
  • I am fully aware that this is sometimes needed. Obviously I would anticipate for minimal trauma to be inflicted upon my baby and I. Please.
After Delivery-
    • If possible, I do not want to be separated from my baby after delivery.
    • I would love to have skin to skin contact and time to bond with my baby as soon as possible after delivery.
  • I would like to aim for a physiological 3rd stage if I am not too exhausted.
Umbilical Cord-
  • I want my partner to cut the babies cord if he wishes.
  • I would like to opt for optimal cord clamping.
  • I don’t want the cord to be cut immediately. I would appreciate it if cutting the cord could wait until it stops pulsating, so that my baby gets all of the remaining cord blood.
Feeding-
    • I would like to breast feed my baby as soon as possible after birth.
  • I would really appreciate help with trying to breast feeding my baby.
Medications for Baby-
  • I would like my baby to have the vitamin k injection.
  • Please give me antibiotics and take all necessary precautions to ensure that my Strep B diagnosis doesn’t have an impact on my baby’s health.

Harriet’s Labour Story – There’s a Time and a Place to Die… This wasn’t it.

This is the first part to the journey and story- Of your entrance into the world. I am struggling to write the second half at the moment, but I am sure that will be easier once I have had my ‘Birth Afterthoughts’ session.

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Hello, Flo.
This is the first part to the journey and story- Of your entrance into the world. I am struggling to write it all down- even after I had my ‘Birth Afterthoughts’ session.
Anyway,
My labour story starts on the Sunday before your due date, the 31st January 2016 at around 5:30 In the evening. I thought that I would make your Daddy a lovely dinner of bacon macaroni cheese from scratch. I had spent all day cleaning, but something was up. I decided to call the Maternity ward at the William Harvey Hospital because I couldn’t feel you move and it had been that way since I had woken up! This wasn’t the first time, but the forth time you’d decided to do this. I think you secretly liked making mummy worry about you! I texted your Grandma, who came straight away to take me to hospital so we could get you checked over.
Unlike every other time that I had to go in for monitoring for your reduced movement, you didn’t start wiggling away the minute you’d heard the machine monitoring pads being put on to my tummy. Despite this, you were doing well, your heart rate was spot on with a beautiful variance and pattern. After about 15 minutes I could feel you moving and that made me feel so much happier!
However, I wasn’t doing quite so well… I had proteins in my wee, a raised pulse and high blood pressure and a headache that had lasted several days- The Midwife decided to do blood tests to make sure all was okay (little did I know this would be the first of many, many needle wounds over the next two weeks!) Two midwives tried to take my blood but failed, so they sent off for a Doctor… I have always had rubbish veins! Grandma and I joked about how, if I begged them enough they might induce me (as after months of SPD and spinal disc issues, I was in lots of pain!)
Shortly after this, I moved from the ‘Maternity Day Care Ward’, to the ‘Folkestone Ward’ because the Maternity day care unit was closing for the day! The Midwife there told me that I should expect to stay- but that it would probably just be for the one night for further monitoring. Grandma left shortly after, to help your Daddy pack my short stay night bag.
Around 30 minutes after she left, I overheard a Doctor talking to a Midwife.. She said about a lady on the ward who “had a few episodes of reduced movement and has now been diagnosed with preeclampsia” and so needed to be moved to the ‘Labour Ward’ induction room. So it would be safer for her and her baby if she was to be induced. ‘She’s a lucky lady!’ I thought to myself, as it was just 2 days away from your due date and I couldn’t wait to meet you! The Midwife and Doctor then came around to see me and told me that I had preeclampsia. OH MY GOSH! It was me that they were sending around to the labour ward to be induced!
“Harriet, my lovely- I think it’s time we start trying to get this little lady to make a move, what do you think about meeting your baby soon?” The Midwife said as she walked me across to the labour ward.
I had Induction room ‘A’. It was far too hot (the fan was broken and with hormonal hot flushes, this was a personal hell for me)… But it was a step closer to holding and meeting my sweet baby girl! I texted your Daddy and Grandma to say I was going to be induced and therefore would need all of your baby stuff and my hospital bag. While I waited, another Midwife came to see me and told me that she could start induction whenever I was ready. I asked if I could have a bath and she told me that it is an excellent idea to enjoy a freshen up before induction commences as it can be an uncomfortable process.
Your Daddy came at about half past ten, baring all of your baby bits, my hospital bags and most importantly (at that moment in time) my toiletries- I couldn’t wait to wash my hair! I had a bath, got dried and told the Midwife at the desk that I’d be in my room waiting as I was ready to be induced!
The Midwife came and she put us on a monitor for half an hour before she started the induction. You were still wiggling about and had the perfect heart rate, so she went on to inserting a pessary. It was awfully uncomfortable when it was being put in and even more painful to keep in for a whole 24 hours. We were monitored every 3 hours and with the room being stifling hot, I got no sleep. NO SLEEP (and Daddy complained about being tired?!?)
 At 6am there was a staff change over, I was introduced to a new Midwife called Louise and a student Midwife called James. Before I met James, I was so unsure about student and male midwives, but he COMPLETELY changed my opinion through being courteous, kind, patient and friendly.
Grandma came back at 10am the next morning after taking Uncle D to school- It was now the 1st Feburary. She brought flapjacks, juice, fruit and even some cheeky Malteasers to keep my energy up! She also made me walk around the hospital several times to get you moving… clockwise, anti-clockwise, outside, out to a&e, to the cafe, to the shop and up and down the stairs. I can’t even remember the total number of people I bumped into, old friends, customers- you name it! All whilst in my Pyjamas, great!
I started to get contraction pains at around 2pm, which got worse until I had to breathe carefully just to get through the pain- I really thought things were going to go quickly from there on and you’d be in my arms soon! Alas- It got to 10pm, I’d had the pessary In for 22 and a half hours and I hadn’t got any further into my labour. My cervix remained flat and hadn’t dilated in the slightest. I felt like a complete wimp, I was in so much pain and it had been for nothing so far. It made me hysterical about the pain that was to come. I was disappointed in myself and my body for not doing what it needed to do.
In time, it turned out that the pain was down to an allergic reaction to the pessary, and my cervix trying to do what it needed to do in the warm up to labour. Because of this, the Midwife decided against a second pessary (Thank goodness!) and told me I’d have a gel inserted after monitoring to see if that got things going instead. At 11:30pm the pessary was removed and the gel was swiftly inserted. I was so relieved that the pessary had gone because it made me so sore. Even when removed it felt as if it was still in there- it made weeing agonising and sitting upright almost impossible! As I kept saying to Grandma ‘My foof felt like a hoof’ and it probably looked like one too (eww!)
The Midwife said the gel could be reapplied every 6 hours and that she’d see me every three to four hours for monitoring- Then see me for another lot of gel at 5:30 am (On the 2nd February). The pains got worse and closer together that night. I just about nodded off at 4:30am… but woke up to what I thought was you giving me a MASSIVE kick at 5:20am. I tried to go back to sleep but I felt strange, so decided I’d go to the toilet. When I stood up I felt a huge rush of liquid escape into my Pajama bottoms. LOVELY! I wasn’t sure what it was, so I went to the toilet and my biggest hopes (and fears!) were confirmed… My waters had gone!
I pressed the assistance buzzer and a (unusually unhelpful) Midwife came and quite literally threw a pad at me and told me “if it’s your waters, it’ll soak the pad” and that she’d be back soon to check what’s going on. I texted your Daddy and Grandma to tell them what was going on. Daddy was going to go to work as he’d just got a new job- I was going to get him to come up when he was needed as I was fine with just Grandma helping me. Who doesn’t want their Best Friend and Mummy there when they’re in pain?
Grandma arrived as they were helping me to pack up my induction room to move me to delivery room 6, she helped me change my clothes and walk over to the other room. I felt sick walking over there and the second I sat on the bed, I threw up.. Grandma skilfully caught (most of it) in three(!!!) bowls.
As I was Strep B positive, I needed IV antibiotics to keep you safe from the infection so they inserted a cannula in to my hand. As my hand was already black and blue from bruising after several failed blood test attempts, my body wouldn’t take the antibiotics. Because of this, a midwife squeezed the bag to see if she could force the antibiotics into my body- but all that did was cause my hand to expell an enormous amount of blood all over the fresh bed sheets.
I (used to) give blood so needles and cannulas aren’t a big deal to me, but that cannula was more agonising than most of my contractions. I cried and I begged them to take it out and move it to my other hand! Which they did after Grandma reasoned with them, as I was in floods of tears!
I was successfully hooked up to your antibiotics (with help from the ward’s top anesthesiologist), your monitor and my contraction monitor. Then handed the gas and air! (I giggled lots, they don’t call it laughing gas for nothing!) The hours passed as I slowly became more and more dilated, going from 2cm to 5cm to at ease. When it got to about 12 o’clock, your Grandma texted Daddy to come up to see me. Contractions were starting to get stronger and my back was agonising (with two prolapsed and one herniated disc considered I think I did well to be so brave!) so the midwife suggested having an epidural.
The same Anesthesiologist that successfully inserted my cannula had the joys of setting up my mobile epidural. Completely drunk on gas and air, I was raised on the bed towards the ceiling. I felt like someone from a scene in Alice in Wonderland. The area was cleaned and through contractions I was trying my hardest to stay still whilst a 4 inch needle was stuck into my spine. “If you don’t stay still, this could paralyze you” I heard a voice say. I was trying so hard to stay still, but I couldn’t! I held onto your Grandma and she held onto me – Trying to keep me still as I sat on the edge of the bed breathing through contractions must have been tough!
Success, it was in!
Then James and Grandma decided it was time to get me up to do a wee! I tried and tried but I just couldn’t go, so when I came back I had to have a catheter. James applied my catheter with ease. Your Daddy came soon after then, he offered me a fruit shoot but then drank it- helpful. Both Grandma and Daddy were trying to reassure me but for some reason, their pats on the back and strokes on the face infuriated me. James jokingly said that he could tell when I was having a contraction because I went from being lovely to being really grumpy (I did shout at Daddy and Grandma to tell them not to touch me!)
Contractions turned from stomach cramps to awful back pain, which honestly really made me feel like I needed to do a poo. So James checked how dilated I was, he guessed at around 8cm but Louise checked again and said I was at 10cm. It was time to listen to the rhythm of my body and push. I was going to have you in my arms so soon! Louise left for her lunch, jokingly telling me that she hopes to see my baby when she gets back.
I wanted to touch your head as you started your journey into the world. I wanted you straight onto my bare chest for lovely skin to skin, having your cord cut at an optimum time, a physiological third stage. I was going to really bond with you, in turn stimulating my milk production so I could breast feed you until you are one and a half. That was my plan. I wanted all of that. I wanted it so much. We were going to do it all and I was so excited to see if you looked like a ‘Florence’, I secretly had my heart set on your name for so long.
Following James’ and Grandma’s instructions, I pushed every time my body told me I needed to. The first 30 minutes of pushing I wasn’t putting anywhere near enough effort into it- I don’t really know what I expected? Like you would come out if I pushed gently? I mean it hadn’t been as hard as I expected it would be so far? Maybe I could get away with it and no one would notice? NO! Grandma noticed AND James noticed AND you still weren’t here.
Louise came back and told me that the lady in the next room had just had her baby after 25 minutes of being on the ward, “it was a breeze!”… She made it clear that I had to push harder and her firm but fair voice took over from James’ instruction. Your Daddy stroked my arm. I spent 15 minutes PROPERLY pushing, with all of my might. Determined to get you here. Thoughts were circling in my head, like; I want her now. I really want my baby girl. I love her so much. Will she be a Florence? Will I miss my bump? This hasn’t been too bad so far!
“Harriet, shes crowned, we can see her head!” exclaimed the Midwives and Grandma.
Then everything started to look funny. Everything looked grey, cloudy and felt like I was watching myself on television. I assume, that I though I was overwhelmed.
“Harriet, do you want to feel her head?” asked Grandma. “No” I replied. “Are you sure?” she said. I didn’t reply. “One more push and she’ll be here” said Louise and James…
As you quite literally FLEW out at such a speed that James, had to literally catch you.
He placed you on my chest. I held you close. I looked at your little face.
It all started to go very wrong, very quickly. I had no idea of the events unfolding as I lost consciousness after a rupturing a main artery, causing what was described as a massive hemorrhage.
Everything blanked.
I looked up and saw blood on the wall, I said to your Grandmim “Take a picture of the blood on the wall, it’ll make (your Uncle) G faint and it will be funny!”
Everything blanked.
“Harriet, you’re not going to be able to have a physiological third stage, we need to get your placenta out quickly”
Everything blanked.
“Can you sign this please, Harriet? We need to take you to theatre…”
“But I don’t think I can’t write my name?”
Everything blanked.
“You’re not doing too well lovely, you’ve lost a lot of blood…”
“But I can smell washing powder?” (Who in the right mind has this as a key focus when they have just given birth to a beautiful baby girl?!)
(This next part is so hard to write, because for the most of it- I wasn’t conscious. The session that I had at Birth Afterthoughts, has helped me fill in some of the gaps and your Grandma has helped with the rest!)
A long blank covered the vast amount of the next eight hours.
There are so many things that are hazy and things that I couldn’t remember but would have loved to treasure forever. Like; Your Daddy, cutting your cord. Hearing your first cry. Seeing your beautiful face for the first time. Holding you in my arms for your first breaths. Your first moments in this world. That tiny bit of initial skin to skin that we actually got together.
I’m pretty sure that you were very happy and contented being safe and warm in the womb and that’s why you were being stubborn on your way out! During the time that it took for your head to crown and for you to Fly out into James’ arms, your tiny, little yet very robust body caused a 2nd degree tear.
This fairly minor tear (somehow) managed to rupture a main artery. So in the time that I delivered you, to when you were in my arms- my blood had started to pool. Flowing out of me, covering the bed and the floor around where our bed stood. Grandma and your Daddy were so wrapped up in the moment, that they had not yet realised what was unfolding around them.
Grandma noticed James and Louise (Both of our Midwives) looking concerned and pointing to something on the floor. I can imagine at around this point, the emergency cord was pulled.
My blood loss was increasing and becoming more uncontrollable as my consciousness plummeted. You were removed from my chest and passed to Grandma.
Dozens of people started to flood into the room. A man introduced himself and quickly began trying to stitch and fix me up. But that obviously didn’t quite do the trick. Grandma then needed to help undress me for theatre, so you were quickly passed to your Daddy.
I was asked to sign a piece of paper, but I couldn’t even remember how to write my name. It was explained that I couldn’t have a physiological third stage and I agreed. After I had my nose stud and clothes removed to go to theatre, I was rushed out of the room. Just as I was rushed out, I caught sight of Irene, a friendly face, that I hadn’t seen in years. This made me feel slightly more relaxed. I have been told that I was hurried along a corridor and taken straight into emergency theatre.
Unlike lots of other things that I am almost thankful that I can’t remember- I can remember most of the agonising rummaging that went on, to repair the tear and stop me bleeding. I wish I could say that I couldn’t feel it, but I could. I begged for more pain relief and was given another epidural and then later, I believe a spinal block was administered too. I understand that the rummaging was vital in putting me back together but experiencing what felt like two big hands squeezing my internal organs was horrific. 
Grandma – “In the meantime, Florence had squeezed out a massive meconium poo into the soft warm towel she was wrapped in! I started to go through Florence’s hospital bag to pick out her nappy stuff and an outfit, she couldn’t stay in a towel the whole time you weren’t there! I found a cat sleepsuit, Tom and I decided that this would be perfect for her first outfit.”
 
There was a man with his laptop in theatre, I don’t remember why, but I remember him being there. A lady with short hair, in scrubs with her hair net, held my hand as I sobbed and looked up at the blood on the ceiling. I looked up at my blood pressure and the systolic reading blared a hazy ’62’ at me, before I slipped out of consciousness again.
Grandma- “Florence kept crying, I knew that she was hungry and that she couldn’t wait until you came back to have milk. The midwife said that she would try and get your consent before giving Florence formula. She asked us what type of formula we wanted to give Florence- I didn’t have a clue, because I knew how much you wanted skin to skin and to breastfeed your baby. In the end I chose SMA as all of my children had SMA with no problems. I thought it was best to stick with what we knew.”
In that time period where I was unconscious and memory is a mix of non existent and hazy. I remember that I couldn’t stop shivering. I shivered so relentlessly, for so long that my jaw, arms and chest ached for over two weeks. The recovery team asked if I could stop shivering so that they could get my pulse and my temperature, but I simply couldn’t- I believe it was around this time that I had to have a arterial line inserted. I was given three units of blood and one unit of plasma. I had consented to my baby being fed formula, with a few words despite being unconscious and not remembering any of it.


Grandma – “The midwife rushed in and said to put the baby down, you need to come with me immediately. It was then that they said your condition was critical. The surgeon said that it wasn’t looking great, he didn’t know what way you were going to go and he gave you 50/50 for pulling through. I came to see you but could only get as far as your feet, there were so many people, cables, wires, drips and machines. You were white. So white. Your veins had started to look like pinpricks and blue dandelions as they had started to shut down through a lack of blood.”
I don’t remember anything else for a very, very long time.
Eventually, my Grandma brought you to me and placed you by my cheek. I don’t remember this, but I truly believe that this contact with my baby girl- even though I was unconscious brought me back from the brink. People would have come and gone, observations were made. Specialists visited. My recovery team sat by my side.
Then, something clicked. Like a flash. I was still shivering and I was beyond exhausted. But all I wanted was my baby, oh and I wanted orange juice. I really wanted orange juice. I had been monitored and nursed, quite literally back from death. I continue to beg for water because I knew that if I could drink by myself, I would be on my way to being better for my baby.
One of the recovery crew looked like my Grandpops. After I had come round, he promised me he’d sneak me a cup of tea if I promised him I’d keep fighting to get better. Him and the nurse with the short hair from theatre, held a cup and straw as I almost literally consumed my weight in water. They held my hand and offered reassuring pats on the arms and stroked my head as I fell in and out of consciousness.
Grandma- “Tom went to get us both food as we were both starving. I sat and cuddled with Florence. I cried. I promised that I’d always be there to love and look after her. I told her that we could go to Disneyland when she’s bigger. We were forced to consider, contemplate and plan in case Florence had to live her life without you. It was horrific. Completely awful.”
 
I lay in recovery with my recovery team for a few more hours as people came to check on my bleeding, progress and consciousness hourly. I was feeling freezing and totally petrified of starting to shiver again, so the man who looked like my Grandpops did a blanket round up for me and I lay there snug under 8-10 blankets.
He grabbed me a cup of tea so that it would be cool enough for me to drink after a specialist had checked me over. He came back with a slice of cake too and said that if I’m well enough, he might even give me his… Sadly after the observations I was well enough for fluids (so hell yes, give me that tea!) but too poorly for my cake, so I made him promise to eat it, enjoy it and tell me how nice it was. Which he didn’t because he felt too mean. Bless him!
I sat in recovery for at least another couple of hours. My recovery team started to try and help me to sit more upright, they did everything and anything they could to make me comfortable. Grandma brought you in to see me, this time I was actually able to hold you but this lovely encounter was cut short by my need to rest.
A senior male midwife was called to check up on my bleeding and labeled it as very heavy, but being a lady with PCOS I was very familiar with very heavy bleeding and this wasn’t very heavy to me at all, so a lady was called in and asked to check it out and also agreed that the blood loss was of a fair amount but certainly not very heavy.
A little more time passed, I had a final check and was wheeled out of recovery and back onto the labour ward. After I said a very emotional goodbye to my recovery team.
I had returned to my room on the labour ward for no more than half an hour, when my midwife- James’ noticed that temperature and pulse started to really rocket. I had a sample of blood taken, that was examined and eventually revealed that I had sepsis. For the second time in 24 hours, I was fighting my life. I was placed on IV antibiotics and as many layers were removed from me as possible to keep me cool.
Grandpa and Uncle D managed to get on the ward after Grandma was told my Direct family could see me after all that had happened. I just lay there as they met you, too exhausted to even function. Grandma then took the first picture of us as a family.

At around 10:30pm your Grandparents cuddled and kissed us goodbye and went on their way home. Grandpa had a day full of meetings about my D’s future education as he is on the autistic spectrum and with Grandma having been with me since 7am, they were both completely exhausted and very deserving of a rest.
Daddy spent some time with us – so we could just be us,  our little family. A nurse came in to help me with skin to skin and to show me how you should latch on to my breast so that I could try to begin with breast feeding.

We decided that we wanted you to be called Florence. Florence as in ‘Florence Nightingale’. We drafted our birth announcement. Sadly Daddy had to go as he had cold symptoms and didn’t want to pass them onto us. You were placed in a crib next to my bed and you fell asleep.
My catheter was removed and I was told that if I went for a bath, I could go onto the Folkestone ward and that we’d be able to go home in no time. I wanted to be at home. I didn’t want to be in hospital. This was going to be my 3rd night. I started to try and stand up, to make my way to the bathroom- but I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough.
You woke up and started screaming. You wouldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t get to get up and help you. I was helpless. I was useless. Healthcare workers popped their head round the door and asked me why you were crying – as if I could have just jumped and sorted it out myself.
A student midwife came in and introduced herself, she was called Florence too! She was very lovely, helped me out of bed, helped me to walk over to Florence and even changed your nappy. A healthcare assistant helped me gather my bits for a bath and off I went. Midwife Florence passed you on to another midwife who cradled you whilst I sorted myself out.
In hindsight, I needed a loved one with me. I needed someone to sit with you whilst I bathed the blood, sweat, tears and everything else off of my half-dead, aching body. I needed someone to hold my hand. It was horrendous. I had the most agonising bath of my life. Whilst I could hear my new born baby screaming from the corridor in the arms of a total stranger. Every one of my stitches stung. I felt like my insides were going to fal out. Tears rolled down my eyes, but I had to do it, I had to be healthy so that we could go home. When I got out of the bath, it looked like a murder scene. I dried myself, put on pjs and walked back over to my room.
As I was crossing the corridor, a midwife came over and said “as you’ve managed to bath yourself, we think it’s time for you to go back onto the Folkestone ward”. They barely even helped me pack up my things before wheeling my possessions and my bed over to the Folkestone ward. I pushed you in your cot, with a tear dropping down my face for every step I took. It was agonsiging. 
I was placed on a high dependency bay opposite the midwives’ mess and reception desk, surrounded by Mums who had all had c-sections (all of which I watched leave over the next two days).
You didn’t stop crying that night, probably because you were starving and my breasts couldn’t fulfil your hunger in the way the bottle did. Every time you cried, you woke up another baby on the bay. Every time another baby cried, you cried. You cried so much that the midwives took you away so I could have a break, which made me feel like a failure of a mother.
For the hour or so that you were had gone, I tried to express milk from my breasts whilst sobbing. Sobbing and sobbing. I had never felt so scared or so alone. It was about 3 in the morning now, on the 03/02/16. I’m just glad that I didn’t know then, that through the whole of my (almost 2 weeks collectively) hospital stay, this feeling wouldn’t let up.
I had done something so amazing and given birth to the most perfect, beautiful, healthy little girl. Yet, I felt like because my body was coping so badly I didn’t deserve you in the slightest.
The hour that you were gone, felt like weeks. I hadn’t had many conscious moments without you inside my tummy and kicking. I had tried so hard to expresss, but nothing was coming. The midwife brought you back in and you latched onto my breast again. She reassured me that you were getting plenty and that I would be able to fulfil your hunger. She gave me three large pans to fill and told me that when I had filled them, we could go home. I decided that I would save my wees to make everyone count, as the stitches made wearing very painful!  
The hours passed and it slowly became the more acceptable half of morning, I had sat there for hours trying to feed you, settling you and staring at your perfect face. 
The breakfast rounds came around and I had my usual banana with porridge and a cup of tea. I needed as much nutrition as I could get so that I could feed you. 
The hearing checks were done. Your little ears were strong and perfect. Your hips were checked. Every little limb was beautifully formed and effectively placed. You had a heel prick – they were sure to check your thyroid as I’d always had problems, but nothing.
Like all Mummies, I was in awe of you – You were and always have been perfect. 
The bounty lady came around to take your photos. She positioned you with ease whilst I watched, terrified that you’d break. She said you were beautiful and that you looked like me. I had never felt so proud. 
I had painkillers but they weren’t enough. I had to have an anaesthetist ultra-sounding my arm every time I had a blood test or a drip put in place. You had your Strep B checks. I was relieved that you were fine.
I cuddled you. I kissed you. I stared at you. I was in wonder at you. I chose your 2nd outfit. I changed your nappy. I held your little hands. I tried to feed you again. You became everything. You were everything. You are my everything. 
The surgeon from the day before, came to see me during his time off. He said that he was amazed at how lovely, friendly and polite I was despite not even being fully conscious and that he was so pleased that I managed pulled through. It had got to close to me fading away and he was so pleased to see me with my baby. 

You fell asleep, so I decided to be brave and go for my first wee. I really hope that you never have to experience that pain. I was glad I held on though, because the longer you hold on- the more diluted your wee becomes, which means it stings less. HURRAH! 
When I came back, Grandma was in our little cubicle. I ate my breakfast and chilled out with her and you. I texted your Daddy and asked him to visit and whilst we waited, I braved going to the shower, but god did that hurt! 
Our student midwife, James – came to see us and to say how pleased he was to see me looking as well as I did. He congratulated me and stayed for a while to chat. It felt so lovely to be so cared for by the team that saved my life. 
Lunched passed, Grandma Stayed- Nonna and Grandpops came to visit you. Then Daddy came and so did GrandNan and Grandad.  
A very noisy and rude lady was put into the bay to the left of us. She had as many visitors as she wanted at all times. She refused to move and wouldn’t do anything to help herself or her baby. She put on a voice when a medical professional was near and made awful comments about my difficulties with breast feeding. 
Daddy went, dinner came. It was my 2nd night with you. You screamed, you screamed and you screamed. My breasts were blue from trying to feed you constantly. My milk hadn’t even began to come in. The nasty comments from the lady in the next cubicle continued to roll in.
 My after birth pains started to come in. They were agonising. My stitches were hurting, I decided that I needed more pain relief so walked over to the midwives’ desk – to be told that I should have been receiving morphine every 4 hours and that they’d get some to me asap if I waited in my cubicle. 
I got very bad tummy pains whilst you were screaming and had to buzz for a midwife to hold you whilst I ran to the toilet. Instead of just agreeing to watch over you for a minute, she decided to try and argue with me about it. I got to the toilet and had the worst antibiotic, painkiller and after pains induced upset tummy imaginable. 
I came back to you in no time and the midwife who I had left to hold you, had settled you and popped you into your cot. You looked so perfect and calm as you slept, but very shortly you woke up and resumed your screaming. I felt so helpless and so worried for my little girl. 
The hours passed until it was about 6 in the morning. My nipples were bleeding and you were starving. I hadn’t slept in 4 nights aside for when I was unconscious. My milk still hadn’t come in. 
I buzzed for a midwife as I wanted help, to be greeted by the same midwife who had tried to argue with me the night before. She told me that I had essentially starved my baby and that only if I felt it was “completely necessary” would she give me any formula. 

I begged her for a bottle for and fed you. Instantly your upset stopped. I was pleased that something so simple was behind your upset but felt so upset that my body couldn’t feed you. I raised my concerns that you were looking a little yellow, but was told that you were fine – so I tried not to worry. 
Grandma came in and sat with us so that I could finally sleep. When she arrived, I was so stressed that I physically couldn’t sleep, until she covered my head with a blanket to shut out the light and I quite literally passed out. I woke up and went for a shower. She was a total life saver that day. She told me that Grandpa and your uncles would be coming that evening to see you and I got really excited. 
I was full of love for you but I felt so alone. Grandma had so much to do but visited as much as she could. None of my friends visited and Daddy didn’t visit often either.
The woman in the next bay had visitors come and go and recounted my difficulties to every single guest, as I sat there behind the curtain sobbing. I felt like a failure. She not only had her own family to visit, but several friends and their children outside of visiting hours. 
Daddy came to visit and came bearing disposable bottles of formula but had to go back home as he was still unwell. 
Grandpa and your uncles turned up to visit, but just as they stepped into our bay – a midwife said that Uncle D couldn’t come in as he wasn’t my child. I tried to explain that the other lady had everybody and anybody that she wanted to visit, but I couldn’t get the words out through fits of tears. Grandpa and Uncle D were sent into the corridor so that Uncle G could see you and then they could swap. 
I had a plan set out in my head and because Uncle D is autistic I knew just how important it was for him to meet you and understand you. I was just so heartbroken that I got picked on for this when nobody else did. I had such a rubbish time and quite frankly missed my baby brother so much that it hurt. I calmly left you in Uncle G arms in our cubicle and went to see Grandpa and Uncle D. I very quickly became very hysterical. I sobbed into Grandpa’s arms whilst he told me that he loved us and that it was okay. 
Our student midwife James walked by and explained that I was feeling the way that I was because of hormones – I had been on a 10 month high on the most wonderful hormones whilst pregnant and afterwards is just a massive emotion-filled hangover. He let me wheel you out of the bay into the corridor so that we could spend time together. Grandpa walked us back to my bed and we chatted. He gave me a big hug and completely reassured me that it would all be okay and that the pain would pass. He gave me a massive bar of galaxy and then had to go as visiting hours were over. 
You were fast asleep and as they left I ate the whole big bar whilst I sobbed about how pants everything had been so far. I continued trying to pump, but still no milk. 
The lovely Irene came into see me and managed to get us on a list to get our own room so that Uncle D could visit, so that all the other babies and Mummies would be able to sleep and so that I could stop being tormented by the other mummy next to me. 
Half way through the next day, we were moved to our own room. My infection levels were still very high. Mummy’s friend Laurie sent her sister in with a massive box of chocolates to cheer me up, as she worked at the hospital. 
We had our own space. I finally could use the toilet or shower without cringing. You were sleeping. I felt calmer. I could have anybody to visit at any time. Which meant that Grandpa could visit more frequently as he finished work late.

As your Daddy started to feel a little better, he could come and see us a little more. He got you more formula as my milk still hadn’t come in and continued to fetch me more supplies. Your GrandNan made me a fruit salad and brought it in- which was delightful, I was starving! 
My veins became so damaged that a 20 minute antibiotic drip went from taking 2 hours to taking 4. I had over 50 different pin pricks, I was covered in nasty bruises. But I had you. 
 
 
 
 

You were referred to a paediatric doctor for jaundice, as the first midwife that I saw blatantly had no idea about it. You only had physiological jaundice but this went away with sunlight and lots of milk; we had your levels halved in only two days. 
The days passed and my milk still didn’t come in. We saw a breastfeeding expert who confirmed that you latch was fine, but still I produced nothing. Nobody explained why. I still felt useless. 
Still- no friends came to visit, Daddy couldn’t come often and you were asleep a lot of the time. I didn’t feel confident enough (very unlike me!) to express my want for people to be around more, not even to your Daddy – so it got very lonely, but just looking at you got me through. I fell in love with everything about you- your windy smile, your yawn, your stetching, even your cute little windypops! 
I’m so thankful for the amazing medical professionals who kept me alive- who made me better, who were quick to diagnose my sepsis and who took strep b seriously. The people who went above and beyond their roles – like Irene, James, Louise, my recovery team and the surgeon. Their compassion helped me through the toughest part of my life. Whenever needed, they were there. I can’t thank my family – our families – enough and the friends who were on the other side of a phone for me. My Mummy, your Grandma was our hero. I cannot put into words how amazing I think she is. I don’t know where we’d be without her. 
Then came home time. I wanted to come home so much. We were promised the Friday, but I was still too sick. It was confirmed that I had contracted sepsis through being strep b positive. God, was I so thankful to be the one who was made sick by strep b and not you. SO THANKFUL.  
You were thankfully discharged and deemed perfectly health to go home on that Friday! Then came the Saturday… and nope. I was still too sick. Then on Sunday, Irene managed to push our discharge and we could finally go home.  
I had my shower and we got all packed up. I was given a mountain of drugs to keep up to speed with.  We waited a few hours, then just like that, we were free to return to the comfort of home and take you to the place where you’d learn to feel your safest.
We could finally be a little family and I was so excited for that to happen. 
 
So that’s it… that’s how you made it into this world- my precious, beautiful and incredible miracle. 
xxx

They Aren’t Little for Long – 21 Ways to Treasure Lovely Moments

Lately I’ve been left feeling totally alarmed at how quickly time passes. So I thought I’d compile a little list of things that I do regularly to ensure I appreciate every moment of Florence growing up.

21 ways to appreciate and commemorate the time you spend with your little one as they grow up…

Lately I’ve been left feeling totally alarmed at how quickly time passes. So I thought I’d compile a little list of things that I do regularly to ensure I appreciate every moment of Florence growing up. As a parent you may already do all of these things! You may do even more! But if you’re a new parent or a mummy to be- here are a few ideas of how to treasure the most special time of your life!

1. We tell her that we love her at least once every day!

2. I tell her that she’s a miracle every day!

3. Every time I call her beautiful, I make sure to compliment her intelligence or her skills. I want her to know that regardless of how beautiful I think she is- that her intelligence, skills and how she treats others is far more important.

4. I try to appreciate ALL of the little things- from the more pleasant things like the extra half an hour in bed for cuddles. To the not so pleasant things like wiping snotty little noses, having an audience when you use the toilet and ‘wrestling match’ style nappy changes… They aren’t little for long and it’s only a matter of time before they won’t need you or want you for these things.

5. Sometimes I deliberately place both of our lunches on the same plate to encourage her to share. It gives the meal the most lovely ‘picnic vibe’… her sharing with me and trying to feed me makes my heart melt!

6. I often let my heart burst with pride as I watch her perfect little face as she snores and dreams.

7. We like to read her that extra story before leaving her to settle.

8. I like to let her sit / lean or rest her head on me for as long as she wishes. Even if it makes my limbs go numb!

9. We watch discretely from afar as she starts to explore, so we don’t miss a thing, but her confidence can be allowed to soar as she experiments with independence.

10. I honestly, Kiss and cuddle her like it is going out of fashion. Allow her do to the same (even if her kisses are the ‘open mouth – I like to bite my Mummy’s nose’ type!)… You CANNOT spoil a baby with love.

11. We take as many pictures as we can, even of seemingly everyday or boring things. (Like when she eats a chocolate biscuit and leaves the residue on her cheeky little face!)

12. Yet, reminding myself to live in the moment and put my phone down for the majority of the time I spend with her.

13. We capture milestones. We encourage milestones. But we don’t rush them- she won’t be little for long. This time is so precious.

14. I started a list of all the words and phrases she uses. I don’t want to forget the order or the words- I want to remember it all.

15. Capture a little bit everything- firsts, the silly faces, the tantrums, the smiles, the drawings, the messes made and other hilarious little hiccups that come with mummy life. I feel that looking back at this when she’s older, will help her realise that life isn’t all smiles and it’s not always picture perfect- but everything will be okay!

16. We take pictures of Florence and her baby friends babies often- seeing how they change and how quickly they change is beyond magical.

17. I occasionally try to take some ‘me time’ (which is sadly usually spent in hospital!) … you couldn’t do a full time job well without the occasional holiday or break- parenting is the same. You need to look after yourself to have the energy to be the best parent you can be. Be kind to yourself! (Plus the cuddles after not seeing your little one even for only a short while are just so lovely!)

18. I write this blog (mummygoeswhereflogoes!), I write notes on my phone and I occasionally write a diary too! I like to record key memories, I like having physical reminders of events and hope that Florence will look back and know how much these moments meant to me.

19. I set up an email address for Florence so that I could send her random emails throughout her childhood- when she’s 18, she’ll gain access to this account and we can go back through and read all of the material that has been sent to her by loved ones over the next 17 years.

20. On her first birthday I created a memory book and and guests at her party contributed to a time capsule. I’m still getting some friends and relatives to sign the book now- so one day we can look back at the kind words from loved ones and what was going on in the year that she was born.

21. I try to purchase the occasional item to commemorate Florence- personalised items with her name on, cute little prints, personalised clothing with her name or year of birth on- etc. I wish they did more of these when I was born! I think they’re precious!

How are you making the most of special moments? How are you treasuring the precious steps of your little one growing up?

Thank you so much for reading! x