So here we are, second time around.

So here we are, what a different experience it has been. Despite going into spontaneous labour at 37 weeks I was still able to have the calm, controlled birth that I had hoped for.

The Thursday before going into labour I had a growth scan and was told baby was measuring large, particularly their belly.

After being diagnosed with gestational diabetes this was an indicator that baby wasn’t managing the diabetes very well, despite my blood sugars being well controlled.

I was always booked for a csection due to the traumatic birth that I had last time. I had seen an obstetric consultant from the beginning (a bloody brilliant one). I was consultant led for a few reasons, physically I had a third degree tear last time and lost quite a bit of blood, and mentally I had obviously had very severe PND and anxiety. So I was always consultant led.

Straightaway I was given the choice. I could have a vaginal delivery again. I would need further tests, to test my muscles to check I could Labour naturally. This included a camera probe to check my bum muscles…this was part of my reasoning for deciding not to have a natural birth. My dignity was just about intact again after everything that happened last time so having a stranger look at my bum with a camera whilst I was awake, I wasn’t too excited about this.

Also my pelvic muscles would need to be checked, more tests and probing, this just fuelled my anxiety and made me feel more apprehensive about a natural birth.

The consultant I saw for the beginning half of my pregnancy spoke about how a natural birth after a traumatic one can be quite healing. It can help you feel some closure from the past, help for you to see that it is possible to have a positive natural birth. But for me it just felt too anxiety provoking. The fear of the unknown. I won’t ever forget the absolute fear I felt during Arthur’s birth. I don’t think it’s something I will ever overcome. But this time around, this birth, it was healing in a way. I was scared but it was a world away from before.

I knew what was happening every step of the way. I knew who everyone was. I felt so much more at ease, I felt like everything was so much more controlled.

When they pulled G out, he didn’t cry, he was silent and I was terrified. No sound. But they showed us him, he was perfect, just quiet. They took him for about 10 minutes to give him some oxygen and bit of a poke. That was the first time I held my breath but he was back with us before we know it. First time with Arthur’s birth I felt like I held my breath the whole time. I felt like I was just waiting for the next thing to go wrong. I was constantly waiting for something bad to happen. I often think about it now. I don’t think it will ever completely leave me.

Despite our positive birth, heading home from the hospital after George’s birth I felt like I was just a timebomb. Just waiting for the wave. But it never came. I waited till around day 3 when my milk came in, no wave. I waited till day 5, that’s when I first felt it with Arthur, it never came. A week down the road but still, no wave. So here we are, 1 month in and still no wave. Yes there are moments. Occasional intrusive thoughts, feelings of sadness but it’s nothing like it was before, nothing even close.

I’m not sure how, but I do know taking sertraline protected me. I also know I have had an amazing support system around me, professional and personal. I know I was more prepared this time. More prepared for everything. I know so much more than I did before. I feel like it’s all less of a shock to the system.

I still often feel anxious, often about George feeding, SIDs, how Arthur is feeling. My secret for anxiety? Taking deep breaths. Something so simple which takes me back to that moment. It helps me stop thinking so much, it helps my mind slow down. So simple but really works for me. Like I said before I still have moments of feeling down, feel like everything is a bit grey, a bit dark. But these are moments, they’re fleeting, they don’t stay, they don’t linger. It’s been a completely different experience this time around. I cant praise the incredible professional support I have received enough. The support I have received from my family and friends, who are just wonderful. And those little white pills that once saved my life. Sometimes I wish I could just stop taking them, I wish I could be free of them but they saved me and they continue to save me. One day I hope to not need them. But it’s ok if I do. It’s always ok.

So here we are, second time around, a world away from the first.

Sorry it’s been so long since my last post, but stay tuned for another one.

Love, Kate. X

So here we are, sleep, it is important.

So here we are. Sleep and mental health. – Man it is important. 9 months in and I’m still napping when I need to. Most of the time (fingers crossed it stays like this) Arthur sleeps pretty well, naps and at night. But not all the time. And I’m prepared for when and if it all goes tits up. Sleep is so important to me, for my mental well being. To feel ok, emotionally, physically.

We do obsess over it as parents but for some it means more to others. For me, it really impacted my mental health. It made everything so much harder. Being alone in the middle of the night with just my thoughts, whilst feeding, it was hard. Not being able to pass Arth over and say; “can you feed him?” Nope, he needed me because Jord doesn’t have the right nipples (men eh?).

I remember a professional saying to me about how it was ok if you didn’t sleep, you just had to get used to it. But what if you can’t? What if you simply can’t manage it? That’s ok. Arthur would feed sometimes for an hour or more at a time. He usually when for around 2 hours between feeds, I was lucky if he went near 3 hours. Some babies sleep for 4 hours between feeds straight away. Some wake up every hour, even at night. If your struggling it is ok to say, I need help.

I know it is national breastfeeding week and please know I am not trying to deter people from breastfeeding. It is wonderful. But remaining well is important, for you and your babe. If sleep does mean a lot to you, if you really struggle without it, ask for help. Suggest one expressed feed at night for you partner to do so you can sleep. Spend some time at your sisters, your Mums, your parents in laws. Ask them if they can help out a little, if they can have the babe whilst you go for nap.

Obsessing over sleep, when you get it, when your babe is going to sleep through the night, it’s not healthy. But it’s ok to admit you need it. It’s ok to admit you miss it. It’s ok to ask for help. We don’t just need to accept it and put up with it, they are things you can do to help. But, I also remember a professional saying to me; “even when your tired if you can’t sleep but you desperately want to, don’t just lay there obsessing about it. Don’t just lay there wishing you were asleep.” They told me, listen to some calming music, read you favourite book, have a relaxing bath. Wishing yourself to sleep will not help. If your content lying down, then do it, relax. But I think if your lying down just wishing you could sleep but can’t, it doesn’t help. It just makes things worse.

Some people drink caffeine by the gallon, some people just magically survive on minimal sleep and still seem to boss life. Me, not so much. I didn’t do much expect feed Arth, eat and sleep for those first couple of weeks. The washing came second, washing up cane second, takeaways, ready meals, batch cooking, became our best friend. Make up? Pffft! The world was lucky if I managed a shower lasting more than 30 seconds. When I become unwell, it was so hard to not have Arthur with me at night. I couldn’t sleep with him there, I couldn’t sleep without him. The anxiety was too much either way. I began to learn how to function with very minimal sleep.

Medication helped. Eventually sleep came back to me. I am not ashamed of needing it to help me sleep. I am not ashamed my boy had to have expressed milk and formula overnight when things got real tough. I needed help. I couldn’t do it on my own. I totally believe it is ok to admit you need sleep. But just try and remember, it does get a bit easier. Don’t let routine, bedtimes, napping, rule your life. That’s my advice anyway, I hope it helps, even if it’s just one person, if it’s just a little bit.

Stay tuned peeps.

Love, Kate. X

So remember the power of your words.

So here we are. It’s sad to see that some people can’t see that their words affect others. Something you might say in passing might remain with someone else for a very long time. I have experienced this first hand. I still remember the stinging words about how breastfeeding is best. I remember crying and letting it consume me and thinking about it all day long.

I remember people telling me when suffering with crippling anxiety; “you don’t know everything, you can’t control it all”. Actually that’s not what it’s about. It’s about being afraid of everything. It’s not about thinking you know everything so doing it your way. Tough love doesn’t really work, the words just hurt.

I remember hearing people say “there’s loads of nutters out there.” Feeling broken that we still live in a society where people thing that’s an okay thing to say. I remember another person talking about how they would hate to be in a “nuthouse”. All I could think about was; that’s me, they are describing me, my life, that’s not an okay thing to say.

I remember hearing someone say; “eurgh you don’t want this disgusting stuff do you?!”, when giving another persons baby formula. I’ve had people ask me “well it’s not hard to look after a baby?!” And “what do you all day?” Babies, are hard work, being a parent is hard work.

Words hurt. I won’t ever forget many of the things I have read about being a mother, a woman, being on social media, having a mental health illness. I won’t forget all the little comments, the things that people say without thinking. They are still some people who live behind current times and think; women belong in the kitchen, women shouldn’t work, mental health illness is “mental health issues”. Having an mental illness means you’re a “nutter” or “you’re crazy”.

Remember the power of words. I have seen and felt the pressure of other people’s views, others comments and opinions. For some, they mean so much. I’ve cried many tears over what other people have said to me. What other people have joked about, the comments and the questions.

Whatever way you decide to parent, live, be, if it’s not hurting anyone else, if it’s safe and it makes you/ your loved ones happy? What’s wrong with it? Sometimes you don’t have to give your opinion if they don’t ask for it. Before you think of a little comment or a joke, remember not everybody feels the same as you. Remember some things hit home.

You do not know what battle somebody is fighting by looking at them. And you do not know somebody from looking at their life on a screen. You do not know who they are from reading about them. You don’t know what kind of person they are. You don’t know what your words might mean to them. You don’t know what your words could do.

Think before you speak. And if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it! Don’t call illnesses names, don’t judge others by their circumstances. Just don’t do it. Words can be so powerful. They can be so hurtful. For someone who is struggling it could be the very last thing they need.

But most people are wonderful. Sometimes the kindest words from someone else can stay with you for a lifetime. You can remember those words years later and still smile. Remember the power of good words. Remember the power of kindness.

Stay tuned for another one guys.

Love, Kate x

So, breastfeeding, what a journey…

So here we are, Arthur is coming up to 6 months old and it seems now we may be coming to the end of our breastfeeding journey.

It certainly has been a journey. I remember when I was pregnant I said to myself, and everyone else; “I’m going to try breastfeeding but if I can’t do it then it doesn’t matter because I least tried”. Me and Jordan went to a breast feeding class when pregnant and it did feel very much “pro breast” I felt the pressure even before Arthur was here.

But when he came into the world I had this overwhelming instinct that I wanted to feed him with my body. I wanted to breastfeed and I felt incredibly proud to do it. But even from the word go we had problems. Arthur has a tongue tie. This affects feeding sometimes but most of the time they don’t like to cut the tongue tie if they don’t have too. You have to work through it. That’s what we did, we stayed in hospital for a few nights because we were trying to get feeding. We went to the breastfeeding workshop, we got the hang of it. Arthur was a feeder right from the word go. He would feed every 1-2 hours, max 3 and sometimes would be on the breast for 1 hour, 1 hour and half. It was exhausting, but I really enjoyed it.

By the time I became ill I was so sleep deprived. I didn’t really feel human anymore. In A&E, I breastfed but I asked Jord to get a bottle and some formula. I needed a break. Arthur took to it straight away. I was heartbroken but I knew I had to admit I needed help. After exclusively breastfeeding for 3 weeks we introduced two bottles in the nighttime. I started to express and usually he would have one expressed bottle and one formula.

Of course at the beginning I couldn’t sleep anyway but gradually I did start to sleep. I was still completely and utterly exhausted but it was a little bit better. Arthur gained weight like a trooper. But in the evenings we started to have issues, he would scream and scream when I put him to my breast. It started around 9 and gradually got earlier and earlier until it was around 6. We realised we had to give him a bottle. He was hungry but he didn’t want to breastfeed.

My goal was to go back to exclusively breastfeeding but as time went on it slipped further and further away from me. I saw professional after professional. All explaining what I needed to do, many with different ideas and advice, I felt bombarded a lot of the time. Of course they were all trying to help but it was very overwhelming. I tried everything that was asked of me and still, it wasn’t getting better. Arthur would feed wonderfully throughout the day but I felt like I couldn’t really enjoy it because I was already thinking; “right soon it will be around 8/7 and he won’t want to breastfeed, I need to express, massage, this, that”. It was always on my mind. It consumed me.

At this point I had also had mastitis very badly. I woke up one morning and was covered in sweat. This happened quite often and I was told it was quite normal when breastfeeding because when your sleeping at night your body is still working hard to produce milk. So I got up and I didn’t feel well at all. I started to shiver uncontrollably, they took my temperature, it was 38.4. My pulse was around 110, my blood pressure had dropped to the 90s and I felt very sick. I decided to have a quick shower in the hope it would help and it was then I noticed underneath my breast it was red, hot and swollen. I needed antibiotics, it was mastitis and it knocked me for six.

The thing with mastitis is it’s a blocked milk duct so to get through it you need to keep feeding. But I couldn’t face it. I felt so ill. I needed to rest. Devastated and feeling like it was all my fault, Arthur had to have my expressed milk and some formula in the day. It was a very low point for me. After resting, pain relief and antibiotics I managed to express and feed later on that day. Bloody hell did it hurt. Since then I have had mastitis twice more. I caught it earlier both these times because I had it so bad the first time. I knew what I was looking for.

As time went on and we had hurdle after hurdle, Arthur having rotavirus, me having rotavirus and both having norovirus, Arthur twice. The days turned into expressing after expressing, taking a bottle out with us, expressing in the middle of the night, my mind was in overdrive. I was constantly thinking about feeding, when would he feed next, would he breastfeed, when was I going to express??? I didn’t think about much else.

I saw a breastfeeding counsellor. She was wonderful. She made it clear her goal wasn’t to promote breastfeeding, it was to figure out if it was right for us. She asked me – “why do you want to breastfeed? What is it about breastfeeding?” I explained for me, it was that I felt me and Arthur had developed such a bond whilst breastfeeding, I was terrified of losing that. She gave me the idea of just putting him to the breast when he was sleepy, when he had almost finished his bottle, when it was the nighttime and he needed comfort. I didn’t have to stop, but it would mainly be for a different purpose. For comfort, for bonding.

It’s very hard to feel okay with bottle feeding when you feel like most professionals around you are telling you, you need to breastfeed even when your finding it so hard. They would say to me “keep going, keep doing it, it’s all about perseverance, it will get easier”. But it didn’t, it got harder. The hardest part of it all? Having people around me when my son was crying because he was hungry, trying to breastfeed when he clearly didn’t want to, telling me to keep going. I felt like a failure. I couldn’t even feed my son. My heart would break every time I would give him a bottle but he was happy. That’s what was important. He was being fed. He was happy. I lost sight of that.

I remember a lady telling me, she became so focused on breastfeeding and she became depressed and then had to be admitted to the mother and baby unit. Because of breastfeeding. It’s heartbreaking that it can do that. We’re told it’s this wonderful, natural, easy, beautiful thing but that’s not the case for everyone. I think we should be told more; it’s okay if you can’t do it, if you find it too much, it’s hard and it’s exhausting. You have not failed as a mother.

Me and Jord had many disagreements about breastfeeding, it was frustrating, particularly at the beginning because Arthur would just feed and feed. Jord couldn’t do much. I felt like I needed encouragement from him to keep going but he felt like I was becoming obsessed with it. He was right. As time has gone on and Arthur now is mainly bottle fed, a little bit expressed milk but mostly formula, with having a sleepy boob feed once every couple of days, I realise now I let it affect me too much. I lost myself in wanting to breastfeed so badly.

It wasn’t for us and that’s okay. Maybe next time I’ll be able to boob feed for longer. Maybe I’ll decide to introduce a bottle sooner. Who knows? The most important thing is that your baby is happy and healthy. Arthur weighs around 20 pounds, he’s 5 months and 1 week. He’s a trooper. He’s rolling, holding his head, starting to have few tasters of solid food. He’s doing brilliant. I feel immensely proud we made it this far with breastfeeding. I thought we were at the end of the road a lot earlier. But will I let it affect me so much next time? Gosh I hope not.

Somebody said to me once – “A well Mum is best”. You cannot look after your baby if you are not well enough yourself. Whatever you decide to do for whatever reason, it’s your choice, it’s your baby, I hope you can feel proud and at peace. One day I hope the fed argument doesn’t exist and we don’t even think about it. A world where we feed our babies, we’re happy and healthy and so are they. End of.

Breastfeeding – we’ve had our ups and downs and I will miss you. But you ain’t everything, your just something.

Stay tuned peeps.

Love, Kate. X