Lets talk taboo: Money guilt

This is probably going to invoke alot of anger in alot of people but its one I've wanted to write about for a long time. Y'see I'm part of a family that live on very limited income. I am a 34 year old female who earns just over a £100 a month with an additional just over £100 from child benefit income. My husband works every day (non stop I might add) and pays for absolutely everything within our lives: mortgage, all of the household bills, all petrol and insurances for cars, and anything that should require funding urgently. My money goes on food and baby necessities like nappies etc. We are left with a single figure once all the bills come out every month and I am unable to claim any further money in benefits.

We cant afford a holiday or a break away. We cant afford to go for days out at amusement parks nor can we randomly decide to go out for lunch over the weekend. Any plans over the weekend HAVE to be free and if we go to any parks or any organised family fun days I have to take a packed lunch and not buy anything out. We don't go clothes shopping we simply look for second hand or free donations, I havent purchased new underwear for myself since the first time I fell pregnant with Liv and I purchased maternity knickers - I still wear these. I cant afford to have a hair cut and will trim and dye my hair myself. I no longer get my nails done, nor do I ever eat out with the kids. When I take the girls out,  the only money we spend is from their family benefit which I get - normally the activity is soft play or something cheap, however now I have to start paying for Paige it is making life harder. The kids will sometimes (rarely) eat out but I will not, I will go without. I don't go out to socialise separate from the girls as every penny of my money is allocated to the girls and the various items they require such as food and toiletries. A date night for me and mark hasn't happened in a while and the last time we spent money on each other was I cant even remember when.

Whilst this is just the life we lead, let me tell you how hard every day is: from the requests from the girls for various things (even down to wanting a fruit shoot I cant afford to buy) to having to say no to friends and activities (whether for me or the girls) as we simply cant  afford to do what other people do. Every day I look at others on social media: Instagram and Facebook and want to cry. Mum's having time out with their kids in a coffee shop, days out at fun looking places, shopping hauls and videos showing off what they spent. My food shopping is calculated down to the nearest penny - I write everything down and take a calculator to work everything out before we get to the till because I'll literally only have a £20 note to spend (I dont own credit cards)

Alot of people will moan at this post because why on earth are we deciding to have another child when clearly we cant afford it - the reality is, we didn't plan to have another baby so soon. A 3rd was always part of lifes plans but just not this soon and it hurts to think that here we are, I cant even afford to buy the new baby clothes (it's a boy this time and all we have is girls stuff) so we are literally having to see what we can find second hand. I quite often cant sleep at night through feeling so guilty that tomorrow I cant give the girls what all their friends are having, or how am I going to work out what Im going to give them to eat thats remotely healthy.

People sometimes look at us and think we must have no money worries - Im a lady who doesn't work for heavens sake, the truth is, I cannot AFFORD TO WORK. I work in the evening (although have just gone on maternity leave) but as much as Id love to go back out to work full time I have no childcare for the girls and simply am not qualified enough to get a job that pays more than the childcare costs and surely whats the point of going out to work if all you're paying for is for someone to look after your kids?!? Everyone assumes I am lucky to be a SAHM but let me tell you my everyday life is filled with immense guilt and worries, the only solace I seek sometimes I spending time with my girls and how much love I feel for them.

Sometimes I feel bitter but most of the time I feel sad, and under immense pressure (and so must my husband). I wish I was like other families and could give my girls better but I am simply keeping my head above water to give them the minimum of which I can. Sometimes Instagram, Facebook and Twitter can deceive you, not everything is at it seems. I felt the need to write this because I feel no-one talks about the drain a family can have, how sometimes the benefit system doesnt support those that arent the obvious ones that need it and this is a really taboo subject. Money is often seen as something you shouldn't talk about but yknow what, this is something that can have a huge impact on every day life which obviously can then in turn affect your mental health.

Mindful parenting

Now, Im not going to lie to you, I am really not any expert in being mindful or even staying remotely calm or patient in life BUT I am most definitely seeing the appeal of living a more mindful life, not just for me, but for the girls too.

We live in a day and age that is oh so disposable, selfish, fast paced and at times lacking of any depth and it scares me to think that my girls have to try to grow up gracefully and carefully in this day and age without seeing them fall subject to the bad side of the way people live. So I have been looking into living a more mindful existence with the girls and practicing parenting with more mindfulness in well, mind. Like I first said, this is not something I feel I know ALOT about - I mean I try, and I work really really hard to be more mindful of my surroundings and the way I conduct myself but I also lack  ANY kind of patience, I am swayed by anything remotely social media wise and spend alot of my life comparing my life to others, which is well, just a little shit.

Liv is a timid character, she doesn't like confrontation, doesn't like shouting and is easily overrun by very large characters and large crowds. She's a real thinker and it takes ALOT for her to open up to anyone. My decision to be more mindful was predominately more with her in mind, but it is something I'm trying to practice more myself so in turn I would like to parent and raise my children more mindful.

So, err, how do you BE more mindful when you parent? Well thats a little easier said than done to explain. I began by reading... reading alot. I've read many articles about how to begin the mindfulness journey, some of the books I've read I will link to below, but here it is, some of the pinpointers I have used to try and parent more mindful.

Be more mindful yourself

What is it they say? Practice what you preach? Well, exactly this. You wouldn't teach your kid how to tap dance if you couldn't do it yourself would you?! I've been trying to make more of a conscious effort to live a more mindful life (easier said than done with two kids and being constantly stressed) Firstly I've been trying guided meditations whenever I get a chance, so normally late at night. Admittedly they do make me fall asleep but the thought is there!

Why do you want to teach your kids?

To be fair when I first got thinking about mindfulness and teaching it to the girls I wondered whether this would give me some kind of miracle technique to somehow abolish tantrums and bad behaviour - I WAS WRONG. Mindfulness is all about being aware of thoughts and feeling both inside and out. Being aware of their surroundings, to recognise when they're minds have wandered. Dont set your expectations too high - remember there is no changing a toddler!

Practice breathing

This is something I've always done with Liv to a certain extent: Liv can sometimes really work herself up - she used to do this so much she'd hold her breath and turn blue (I KNOW!) and so I used to guide her through breathing: slowly and calmly. I'd breath with her and get her to focus on me. The ideas are the same. Maybe try and play a game with your little ones where they watch the rise and fall of their breath - using toys or simply watching their belly. Bedtime is normally a nice time to do this.

Go for a walk

This is the easiest of all mindful activities to do - simply go for a walk with your little ones, leave your phone at home and talk to them about what they notice about their surroundings. Ask them to spend a minute listening to the sounds and after a minute get them to tell you what they can hear - this is incredibly soothing for everyone involved!

Ask them for a personal weather report

Sounds a bit silly but asking how they're feeling is a great way to practice mindfulness, however being a kid the chances of them being able to articulate the way they are feeling properly is slim to none. For Liv we use the weather to compare how she is feeling - sunny, shiny and happy, or overwhelmed and cloudy. Sounds silly but it really helps Liv to be aware of how shes feeling and understand that its ok to feel whatever she does feel.

Happy Memories

I often ask Liv to tell me at the end of a day or week what she really enjoyed doing or seeing. Remembering a time that made her especially happy is so cute and lovely and also ALWAYS makes liv smile again - its so lovely to hear.

If you're looking to read up more about activities and how to teach mindfulness to your kids in more depth there are a couple of books that I've read that I would definitely recommend:

"Sitting Still Like a Frog - Mindfulness exercises for kids"

I found this a nice, simple and clear book about practicing mindfulness with the girls.Has good sections on falling asleep more easily, alleviating worry and managing anger. A nice little read.








Mindful Monsters

This fab website is a monthly subscription pack whereby each month you will get a pack of seven activity cards to enjoy with your kids, all inspired by mindfulness. The cover subjects such as Creativity, Relaxation, Positivity and Concentration. Costing £7.50 each month I really like the idea this.

Overall, I'm really enjoying trying to be more aware in life and if anything, it certainly opens your eyes a little more to the way kids think, and to concentrate more on the here and now.

Why we chose a Gender Reveal Party

Last Saturday we hosted a gender reveal party. Even I cant believe that we done it to be fair: I've long thought the idea was properly wanky. I mean why on earth would people WANT to know or even care all that much about the gender of your baby - why should WE care even. We hosted ababy shower when I was pregnant with our first child, Liv, and it was beautiful, fun and really special. When I became pregnant with our second, Paige, I decided that there was no need to throw a party like this - wasnt because I was happy, I just didnt want everyone to be all *rolls eyes* sick of having to spend money on ANOTHER baby that we decided to have, however being pregnant again, with our third and final baby I felt compelled to do something.

For me, a baby shower wasn't the right way to go. Losing this one's twin at 13 weeks has made me view pregnancy in a whole different manner and way, almost a bit like some of the shine has been taking and th way I used to feel about being pregnant has been tarnished somewhat. It felt unfair and not to throw a party for this one remaining baby: its twin didnt get a chance to be thought of in this equation, nor will it ever be celebrated with gifts because he/she purely doesnt exist anymore and let me tell you, that shit hurts.

I had stumbled upon gender reveal parties A LONG TIME AGO. The Americans are full of them and I am one of THOSE people who have watched alot of the hilarious videos of them going wrong (if you havent watched those ones go do it now - lol) I've mocked them alot, to alot of people, and yet here I was wanting to throw EXACTLY that. So why? for me, it was my only chance to celebrate the fact we know whether this baby is a boy or girl, that we've got this far, but also a chance to celebrate our lost twin too. By making a deal out of our surviving twin2's gender, it was our chance to say goodbye and remember his or her's lost sibling. I began to put the wheels in motion purely by thinking of ideas on how to do the reveal and whether we wanted to find out before the reveal or leave it all as a surprise: we opted for the latter.

When we had our 20 week scan (I was already 23 weeks) I simply asked the sonographer to write the gender down in a card and place in an an envelope and seal it - NOT to show me at all. I then drove it straight to the lady who was organising the balloons. As it goes, I somehow ended up bringing it back home and not taking it to the balloon lady until a week later so having it just sat there was a little torturous! We went with the option to burst a balloon and have it filled with coloured confetti and mini balloons, rather than a cake option - I think with the balloon option you get an instant hit of TA-DA, whereas the cake is a slightly more slower option.

I was amazed at the amount of people that came to the party to be honest as I'm really aware its not everyones cup of tea but I do know that most people hadnt been to one before so were curious, either way it was super lovely that people made the effort to come. and so, what did we want - boy or girl? I've made no secret of the fact that I've always dreamed of having a baby boy, however judging by my previous luck Im fully aware I seem procreate girlies, This time round I knew i was lucky to be having a baby at all and that it was still alive, however I think Mark was secretly hoping it would be a boy otherwise I'd be making him go for a 4th!

So..... what are we having???

Im thrilled

x

Why is it so hard finding friends when you're a mum

I'm two kids in now and I've come to realise I'm rather thin along the ground for having real friendships. Since the age of about 30 I've realised that I am lacking a space in my life for a best friend, a close knit community of friends. And then along came having a baby and all of a sudden I found a new hurdle in the way of making friendships and keeping them. Right now, I'm lucky to have a very very small group of mum friends who I get on with but with having more than one child and another on the way our schedules are changing and with that opens up, for me, the need to make some more friends whether they be mums or not.

I'm 34 now and a fairly social being - I like to have plans, I like to chat, I like to go out with or without kids but mostly I crave interaction. But making friends in this day and age is HARD. All too many times I find people flaky - its a pet hate of mine. If you want to meet up with me - meet up with me, if you dont or have no intention then dont make plans with me, and then there's some mum friends who only like to do things with their kids which is absolutely fine, but I'd love to have friends that can do both - surely having the opportunity to sit in peace whilst eating a croissant and drinking a hot drink whilst conversing with likeminded women isn't a bad thing!?
Some only like to go out and do activities at attractions whereas i like doing everything on a budget so even a cuppa round mine is welcome.
But mostly I find it hard to make friends because there are too many mums out there living a competitive life when it comes to raising kids. I am what I am - what you see is what you get. I swear (alot) and I feed my kids jam sandwiches and let them eat haribo as a treat - thats me. I totally get I'm not everyone's cup of tea, but in this day and age shouldn't we be accepting of others and their ways of life? I dont harm anyone and I adore my kids sometimes a little too much. My parenting isn't perfect but then who's is? is there a right way to parent? I welcome all mums and all kids - I dont think any child is naughty, nor do I think any mum is too earth mother - we are all on our OWN journey through motherhood where there is no written right or wrong (obv apart from harming children but you get me)
Just the other week I toddled off to a toddler group with both girls. I decided now was the time to put myself out there, make friends, make the effort. However upon arrival I was ignored, stared at, told I shouldn't be drinking coffee (because Im pregnant) and then stared at by the many tight knit groups of women/mums thats surrounded the circle play area. I felt out of my depth, scared and in the spot light. I tried to make chat with one lady who then proceeded to keep telling me I have my hands full, how Paige will have the "poor middle child syndrome" etc all advice that someone you haven't met, probably didn't need.
To me motherhood and pregnancy included, isn't a race - there is no child that progresses too early or too late - they simply do it at their own speed when its right for them. There is no perfect or easy pregnancy or birth - all pregnancies and births are incredible in their own ways. Everything about this stage in a woman's life is equal to the next. Why, do we, in conversation feel the need to compare and contrast - of course listen to one anothers stories and experiences and delight, rejoice and entertain them, but for heavens sake dont compare them to your own, they are individual. Is this why I struggle to find friends for life? Am I picking the wrong type of women to try and be friends with?
For me, my friendships come above and beyond most things and I will go 110% for them. If I make plans with you I will damn sure make sure I am there. If I say I'll do something or arrange something, I will sort the shit out of it good n proper. There is never too much effort on my part - I go all in. I'm so stupidly loyal that personally I think I need to be reincarnated as a  war dog or something because I will never ever leave my band of friends, I will do anything and everything for them, sometimes to my own detriment of my own health. but why do I find others not like this? I'm easily forgotten, I get let down alot, people dont socialise with me or want to half the time. People never ask me about me, never show an interest in me and will often talk over me or glaze over in conversations.
Back at an old job I took a Dale Carnegie course which I swear changed my life - it taught me so much on how to conduct myself, how to have friends, how to be a better person. Dale Carnegie was the person that wrote the book "how to win friends and influence people" and let me tell you, this book was everything to me to read. It made me conduct myself so differently. The one thing I remember vividly was to how to create an interest from people and that was to always talk about THEM - everyone loves talking about themselves, it makes them feel cared for and wanted and so here I am, at 34 STILL living my life this way and yet I am lonley.

Third child fears

I am so ecstatic to be thinking we are adding another cute, fat baby to our family (yeah I know they dont stay that way but still) and due to everything thats happened recently I have been walking on rainbows and clouds as to how this is going to work with my life, my existing family and the future, but all of sudden on a particularly bad day when the toddler wouldn't eat her dinner for the 12837572746th time and the baby decided she'd go without a nap I suddenly thought, holy crap, there is going to be another one to add to the mix in 4 odd months time - CRAP!

So how IS a third going to make a difference - I mean, my time seems STRETCHED to the maximum as it is, I'm trying to physically work out where I might find another 5+hours a day to dedicate to a newborn... where's Hermiones time turner when you need it huh?! Currently there are times when I feel like I dont have enough hands, normally when the toddlers bum needs wiping but you can guarantee Im feeding Paige (and you dont stop feeding Paige if u want a quiet life) I only have TWO hands, not three, just two so my maths isn't all that great but even I can tell Im one hand down in this equation.
Routine... routine seems to work well with the two, yknow Liv gets all the attention whilst Paige slots in rather nicely and only lets me know she needs something with the occasional moan - fine, sorted, but WHAT HAPPENS when you add a newborn into this equation too? It was oh so easy to placate Liv when Paige was born with a bowl of sweets or ice lollies (Yep, I'm that mum) and admittedly she adored baby Paige so it kinda fitted in nicely, but oh my gosh, what will I do whilst Im trying to nurse a newborn and Liv needs food, Paige needs food - like logistically HOW DOES IT WORK!!?!?
What will happen to my eyes when I really am not getting ANY sleep. Paige has been a walk in the park compared to the shit storm that was Liv when she was born, and well, Liv she disputes sleep even now so I am well and truly up against it third time round surely?
What will happen when I take them to the park? how on earth do you watch 3 children!? how do you keep an eye on them - surely the law of averages says that one kid is going to fall off something and hurt themselves in this situation?
How do you tag team 3 kids? right now Mark tends to deal more with Liv and I'm a servent to Paige so err, the third one? who has that???
How do you fit them all in a car? Like can you? what are the rules hey?
According to recent research it says that families of three children are considered the most stressed, some considering having a third child as an indulgence (which I firmly disagree with) with some even believing that the third child is in fact a 'third wheel' in the family which horrifies me!
For me, having this third child feels so stupidly, ridiculously RIGHT. Like I've always dreamed of having 3 children, that and the fact that I miss the newborn stage as soon as they reach 6 months. But really, despite the above, I am actually so excited to be welcoming another face to the table, another smile to the photo's, another set of teeny tiny feet to walk in the sand with me, another hand to fit into mine and more arms to slip round my neck for a cuddle. I'd be stupid to think there weren't stressful times ahead but Im feeling oh so ready for this new challenge. However if anyone DOES have answers to the above questions feel free to let me know!

Learning how to deal with a subchorionic hematoma

So far this pregnancy has been scary - not just because I feel like Im still grieving and yearning over the loss of my first twin but I am having to deal with daily bleeding. Everyone will tell you that the thing they are most scared about it pregnancy is bleeding - bleeding means miscarriage right!?

Well... not always. Y'see, after finding out I HAD miscarried twin number one, but twin number two was surviving I thought that was the end of the scary time, I could go on my merry way and relish in the pregnancy that was currently live, but that wasn't meant to be. A mere matter of weeks following my twin miscarriage did I start bleeding again. I was utterly shocked and devastated, scared, sick to the stomach and so very fearful. Surely this remaining pregnancy was going the same way as the other twin? Here I found myself back in A&E, trying to shield my tear stained face from the people in the waiting area, all I kept wondering was whether the baby was still alive.

Ultrasounds and tests later showed that baby was still alive and healthy but I was diagnosed with a subchorionic hematoma - when the consultant told me this I literally looked at him blankly. This was not something I had heard of, nor had I read about in my pregnancy books. Bearing in mind this is my third pregnancy I literally had NO idea what this thing was. Subchorionic hematomas is where an accumulation of blood forms in the folds of the chorion (the outer fetal membrane near the placenta)  or between the uterus and placenta itself. The only symptoms for a hematoma is obviously bleeding, or unless it is picked up on a scan. I would love to tell you that when the consultant told me this was the cause I felt settled, because to be honest with you I didn't. Looking at the facts alot of hematomas can heal in the pregnancy and are only deemed more dangerous in the first trimester and usually go by the second but because mine started IN the second trimester and is well, still here and bleeding, I felt scared.

Statistics wise, around 1% of all pregnancies have a subchorionic bleed and most dissolve on their own. There is a rare risk for the hematoma can cause the placenta to separate from the uterine wall.

So, where do I go from here? Well, Im still bleeding. Every day. I feel like I am living in fear - sometimes Im sure the bleeding and spotting is worse than others, and sometimes its barely there. Im quite often scared to pick up heavy amounts yknow 'just in case' and the other day I had a long bout of sneezing and ended up bleeding alot which now means I'm even too scared to sneeze. I am being kept a close eye on and on my 20 week scan they will measure the bleed and keep track on it closely in the hope it starts to reabsorb but my midwife has warned me that it may be like this for the entire duration of the pregnancy and you know what... that scares me the most.

So how am I feeling? well, pretty shocking tbh. My love and joy of pregnancy is being marred by this ordeal and as pessimistic as it seems everything that has happened has made me so fearful, even when being told by the professionals that it could be fine I almost dont believe them. I have made myself acutely aware of the condition and taken it into my own hands by being more forceful that I normally would to get more care. On the outside I a putting a brave face on it, but everytime I see blood when I go to the toilet, or see it stained my stomach literally drops. Its in my head all the time and I think forever will be until the day I give birth. Im hoping my outcome is as positive as the statistics show and right now I am working on my mindfulness, living a more simple life and trying to ditch negative energy in the hope I can bring some more positive thinking into my life to enable me to deal with my grief and this situation.

The post I never wanted to write

I've started and restarted this blog post over 30 times and I  still feel Im not going to do it justice or properly articulate how I feel, this is the post that I never ever wanted to write.

I found out I was pregnant. Hooray, balloons, streamers, congrats, happy wishes - or so you would think but just 3 days after finding out I was pregnant, I started bleeding. At 9.30pm my world came crashing down. I cant stress enough that of course we weren't trying to have another baby as Paige is only 8 months old, it wasn't planned as such BUT we had always wanted 3 children and so despite it being a little sudden, it was most definitely wanted and already loved. I had yet to tell my husband as I was due to see the midwife. I just wanted to check everything was ok before I put mark through anything unnecessary (meaning the shock of us having ANOTHER baby), but ironically, the night before the appointment, at 9.30pm when I was lying on the sofa I felt something odd, like something had burst from underneath me and I instantly felt wet - as I reached down below in my trousers, there it was, a trickle of blood. My entire insides immediately ran cold and I felt physically sick. I had never experienced bleeding before so I just laid back down on the sofa in the hope that it would stop, or somehow I had made a terrible mistake and was imagining it. But it didn't stop, it started to gush. It felt like I was going for a wee, but of course I wasn't. I got up and the blood became to drip out; through my underwear, through my trousers and onto the rug below. I froze. I didn't know what to do - where do I go? what do I say? Mark was out at the time and with both girls nestled safely asleep upstairs. All I could think of doing was to ring 111 - they explained that I had to wait for a call from the on call dr but of course there could be a little wait. As I sat in my dining room, with blood flowing, my thoughts turned to the baby. The baby I knew I was losing. The baby that had shocked me, the baby that had come as a surprise but that would now be leaving me. I knew at that point I would have to call my husband home, and break the news - I was expecting but possibly losing it.

An hour had passed, and whilst waiting for the GP to call I had to break the news to Mark about him being a father again to also maybe dealing with losing the baby. It was both devastating having to tell him and see him deal with it. I just felt so guilty that it was my body doing this to the three of us (me, Mark ad baby) The GP had advised that I needed to go to A&E straight away. The drive there felt like the longest, through every turn in the road, I could feel the blood flowing out of me, soaking into another pad and I felt powerless, I didn't want to move as i suddenly felt it gush, I keep my legs crossed but upon uncrossing it would flow back out. My MIL who drove me to the hospital was amazing, she was someone who had been in a similar situation and I didn't need to make conversation with her - she just KNEW how I was feeling. Even when the tears flowed she just gently soothed me - there was nothing to be said, nothing to be discussed. When waiting at the hospital I began to think... surely, I had done this. I was the one who had carried on like normal, taken no pregnancy vitamins, I hadn't been kind to me body. My periods had stopped in January y'see and I saw a GP who said that my recent increase in dosage of my antidepressants was the cause of the delay/or stopping of my period (apparently its very known) and of course because I didn't believe I COULD be pregnant this soon after Paige I went along with it. So here I was feeling all the blame - could I have rested more? could I have taken more folic acid? could I have done something to make this happen to me? As the people filter in and out of A&E I wondered if anyone was trying to guess why I was in there? Did I look pregnant?
Hours seemed to drag by, blood tests, cannulas, admitting to the A&E ward and then being transferred to the gynecology ward all the while I could feel the life slipping away inside me. I know I should've tried to be more positive but in my heart of hearts something didnt feel right anymore. I wasn't allowed anything to eat or drink just in case I needed a procedure and in some ways I was secretly glad. I didn't want to go for a wee, I was scared. scared that everytime I sat on the toilet that id see more blood, and Id see my baby fall out of me. There was no longer any rational thought left in my head, and I was sure there would be no tears left. It's an odd one because as you're lying there in the hospital bed, just lying, waiting to hear the outcome there is often a few seconds where you feel fine, almost like a weird out of body experience, like none of this could be happening to you but then like a jolt , you are right back there.... in limbo hell.

I cant explain what it feels like to not know whether your baby is dead or alive. The waits were agonizing and when I was told that the head consultant I needed to see had just been rushed into surgery so you would have to wait it was even more agonizing, heartbreaking almost. I wanted someone, anyone to put me out of my misery. I know it wasn't their fault - hell, they were doing a great job but the minutes very quickly turned to hours, and I was exhausted - through crying and being awake all night. When the consultant was free, he explained that obviously the symptoms weren't looking good for me but they would do a ultrasound to confirm what we all suspected. Upon  entering the ultrasound room there was a room full of people, 5 different student doctors, my consultant and a nurse then obviously myself and my MIL - it was daunting, however all the student doctors asked whether it was ok to be there during this which I of course said yes - I was passed caring. My exact words were "can you just tell me my baby has died and let me go home"  I was sobbing uncontrollably and so was my MIL when the doctor began the ultrasound and his first words were "well your baby is alive" I coudn't believe what i was hearing it was an absolute shock, that feeling in the pit of your stomach where everything just drops. I couldn't believe my ears. He told me to face the screen and showed me the little baby bouncing around inside with its heart beating loudly away - so many questions flooded my mind: how? why? what? he moved the scanner along and said he could tell us why I had been bleeding. It was then that we found out I had miscarried a twin baby.

My heart broke - I was so emotionally split between grief and love all at the same time. I was beyond ecstatic that there was this little baby alive and well growing inside me but at the same time my other baby had died at 12+4 weeks old. Its brother or sister, another addition to our family. Even though I didn't know I was pregnant with twins prior to this it didn't mean I didn't love the being any less. I felt numb, shocked. The Dr looked at me like I should be so happy but in reality I felt nothing. I felt I couldn't smile, I'm not even sure if I felt relieved. I immediately felt like I was missing something in my life, something had been taken away from me too soon and I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to him/her. I had no clue where to go from thereon - what do I do now? and even now, 3 weeks down the line I have no idea how I'm feeling. I cant articulate how I feel - in conversations I feel it necessary to glaze over it - no-one wants to hear about miscarriage, no one wants to hear about a dead baby, noone wants to hear about how I walk around with two of the most beautiful daughters in my life yet still feel like something huge has been ripped from me.



I've had friends who have suffered miscarriages before and tried to be the best a friend I can be, but the reality is, I couldn't for the life of me EVER imagine what they're going through, it is only now that I can, in some small way, feel the way they must've been feeling. So here I am, stepping through the days in some hope this baby can survive all its been through, hoping that I can get through this pain that sneaks up on me every so often. I have two already beautiful girls and please dont think I dont appreciate that - because those girls are the ones holding me together right now, its not about them nor is it really about me - its about loss and I need to accept it, take my time over it, digest it and learn to carry on.

Postnatal Depression and me. Second time round.

I've made no secret of the issues that I came across post the birth of my first child Liv, back in 2015. I was diagnosed when she was 6 weeks old as having postnatal depression: something that took almost 1.5 years of her life to subside until it was just a memory. A memory that never really goes, but a memory all the same.

It was one of the most scariest, frightening and life debilitating things I've ever experienced. To feel so low and sad when ultimately you are in the proverbial 'happiest times of your life' is one of the most bittersweet things I've ever had the misfortune of experiencing. It was sprung on me, I didn't see it coming, it took me by surprise and not in a good way. It knocked me for six, that so much so, I truly believed my life was better PRE CHILDREN. It stole the newborn time from me of my first child - something that I will never ever get back again and even now (liv is 2.5) I find it so heartbreaking that most of the time I cant bring myself to think of it. So of course when I found out I was pregnant with my second child 3 months after Liv turned 2, I wondered what would be in store for me. I knew everyone else was worried, fearful even for what might or might not happen post birth of number two.

My pregnancy with Paige went as well as expected and throughout, my emotions and feelings remained stable. At this point I had been off the antidepressants for some time and there was a small part of me that thought this time, second time round, things were going to be so much different. There was nothing about having a newborn that could possibly take me by surprise right? So after Paige's birth the first few days were everything I could've dreamed of - peaceful, serene and confident. I was almost proud of the mum I seemed to of become. However on day 4 came a subtle, almost unnoticeable change in me. I felt tearful, fearful every time Paige went out of my sight. I would suddenly get feelings of butterflies in my stomach every time I heard her cry which I recognised instantly as the first trigger point when Liv was born and I experienced initial troubles. Over a mere matter of hours the anxiety was building over small things. I noticed that my appetite was slowly diminishing and the feelings of nausea started to manifest themselves. Then the next day when I knew I might be left with both girls for an hour or so alone that I found myself in floods of tears, begging my partner not to leave me with them. Everything felt like this feeling of anticipation - something was going to go wrong, I wouldn't be able to handle both girls, I wouldn't be able to soothe them, I didn't know how to be me, I couldn't string a sentence together, I constantly felt like I had to sit in a quiet room away from everyone else. I would dread pretty much every minute I was living and every second thereafter. Fear would envelope me, constraining me, causing my heart to beat in my ears so loudly. I yearned to disappear to a room, to be able to cry into a pillow, to howl loudly, to feel some kind of release of the way I was feeling. Every time I looked down at this new mound of flesh that I had just birthed I felt more and more detached and yet more and more scared and anxious. My safety net was Liv, I felt like I couldn't bear to be without her or away from her. she became my sunshine, my focus, my stability. I became almost obsessive with her - focusing on her day and night and almost ignoring the fact I had just had a newborn, another baby girl to nurture and help grow.

I was back here again. I had failed. Failed my family, my children, and myself. There is nothing more soul destroying than feeling like you've let yourself down - I had become that woman, that mum again. The nuts one. I knew that everyone was waiting for this to happen - it was the elephant in the room after I had given birth - waiting for me to fall and here I was, it had happened. It took all my power to call my Dr's a week after feeling those first tell-tale signs. What would happen to me, to my kids second time round. How do I fight this? how do I pick myself back up? how do I explain this to people? am I really worthy of having children?
To sit in that room and let my emotions roll is a hard thing to do. Anyone who has said it isn't is lying but I knew in my heart of hearts I had no other option. I HAD to do this for those two amazing little girls that were waiting for me back home. I had to do it... I HAD TOO.

So, 6 months down the line I am still here, still trying, still taking tiny stepping stones to a place of freedom from postnatal depression - the battle has commenced and I am just getting started. Thankfully I have amazing support, amazing medication and two amazing girls that are my lifeline. Im not any less of a mum, nor a person, I've discovered that deep down there is a strength inside, one to pull through and this my friends is what I intend on doing.

Life with two - the truth

I never ever thought about what it would be like to have two kids whilst I was pregnant with P  for two reasons: 1 - I was already busy enough with a certain little lady and 2 - I was afraid that If I actually thought about it too much, I would be put off. As a parent of just one I had got myself settled yknow - we were in a routine, me and Liv had each other down to a tee: I could tell what her actions would be like depending on her moods, she knew how I would react to certain things - we were kinda as one if you get me, and life was relatively easy, but enter another baby, and well, noone can guess what those little mounds of flesh are going to be like.

And so, with little P's arrival and 5 months down the line, here's what I know now about life with two:

- you think you couldnt pee in peace first time round? You're lucky if you even get time to pee AT ALL now. Try to shower? Yeah... good one.
- There will always be one child getting ignored: so for me it is mostly P - sounds horrific but Liv can talk and well, we all know what the sound of 'MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY' sounds like on repeat... you cant ignore that shit.
- You will always have dirty clothes. So when you had one, the odd snot mark was way more easier to hide, but with two? you are covered. HEAD TO TOE. If its not P vomming on me, its Liv wiping her snotty, dirty hands on me.
- Time is now of the absolute essence. In fact my days are running of that similar to the military. Every hour is planned out to make sure chores are getting done, that we sometimes, occasionally get to leave the house, and the kids are fed and watered.
- Don't ever try to be on time for ANYTHING. It takes me an age to get the two ready and OUT THE GOD DAMN DOOR and therefore I am always late. I am sometimes 30 mins early at the start of the morning, but get close to leaving time? Yep, I'm late.
- Your pace will move. alot. slower. If its not the toddler walking at a snails pace, its the fact you have to carry the life barnacle in the car seat that weighs the earth, forcing you to walk at approx one step per minute.
- Going anywhere takes baggage. I'm talking BAGS. There snacks for the toddler, change of clothes for both of them, nappies for the baby, bottles, formula, the odd random toy, some bribery chocolate/sweets.. the list is endless. And after packing all of that, you can bet your ass you'll forget your purse or keys.
- You will literally lead your life BRIBING the older child. I have to carry around a pack of haribo in order to get the kid to do anything that is outside of what she wants. Don't get me wrong she can be really compliant most of the time, however, normally when Im pushed for time, she will refuse point blank to do what I need her to do. "put your shoes on" SWEETIE. "Can you just be quiet whilst I feed P" SWEETIE "if you pick up your toys i'll give you a  sweetie" SWEETIE.
- Just when you think you're going to get sleep, ONE of the kids will become ill and wake. If you manage to get sleep with both babes you have practically won the lottery.
- You will hear yourself constantly saying "not now mummy's busy" to the eldest, that and saying their name for what seems like the 2949586747925 time that hour.
- Illnesses seem to like company so when one catches a bug, give it approx 3 days and the other child will catch it. and then when they are all better, you will contract the lurgy but of course not be able to rest.
- Childcare gets harder. Taking on one child isn't too daunting for friends, but two... well.... two brings a whole new favour to ask....
- Bath and bedtime is err..... MANIC.
- Unless your eldest is potty/toilet trained, be prepared to pretty much spend your day knee deep in nappies.
- Nap times will become the holy grail, and you will also spend from 4pm on official countdown for bedtime.
- Keeping track of what both babes are up to requires SKILLS. Master this one asap.
- The love and cuddles is magnified. You get two of everything and it frigging well is AMAZING. You cant beat a good baby squish cuddle and feeling the arms of you eldest wrapped round you whispering in your ear, they love you.

Paige Kaitlyn Helena Nash - My Birth Story

Happy New Year all of you lot! SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED - hence the reason why I've failed to blog - being pregnant, having a toddler and then giving birth does that to a girl = having NO TIME AT ALL. But here we are, 2nd January in 2018. A brand new year and Ive vowed to finally get back on the proverbial blogging horse and finally give myself some ME time and get back into writing! So without further ado, its time to introduce the newest member of the our girl gang...

On the 24th August 2017 Paige Kaitlyn Helena Nash came into the world at 1:10am. I am now a mother of two, a mother of girls - my very own girl gang. She is, believe it or not 4 months old already and the birth already seems a million years ago (it's amazing how quick you forget that pain) so the time is right for me to tell you all about Paige's birth story.... all 26 minutes of active labour...

On the 22nd August, a Tuesday, it was like any normal day - me being heavily pregnant and the task of having to attempt to entertain my hyperactive 2 year old whilst not rolling around on the floor with her. It had only occured to me at about 2pm that baby bump had been unusually quiet that day, in fact I think the last time I had felt her move or kick was the previous night. I had visited the hospital with reduced movements previously and everything had been fine so I wasnt overly alarmed. I had been told by many people that nearing my due date the babies movements would slow down, so at 38 weeks I kinda figured this was the cause. After calling the Maternity Assessment unit at my local hospital, Wexham, I was told under no circumstances that I had to come in immediately. I mentioned to the midwife on the phone that obviously it was probably because the babies due date was approaching and she said that absolutel that was the incorrect thing to be thinking. I was shocked. I had been told by SO MANY people that it was totally normal to not feel the baby so close to the due date that I just figured this was it.
I arrived at the hospital and was hooked up to the machines - my blood pressure had already been taken and was thankfully normal (I was on blood pressure tablets at this stage) Anyone that has gone into be checked for reduced movements knows that the second you get hooked up to the mahcines to monitor baby, that the little buggers get moving - this had hapened to me on all my previous occasions so I expected exactly the same however little bubs still remained quiet. After an hour of monitoring it was decided that there was no need to keep me hanging on, and after a swift and rather brutal examination *down there* they informed me that they would like to break my waters and get things moving. I was so excited, finally I would get to meet the newest member of my girl gang, although it came with a down side - I had to be admitted to the ward until I was ready to be taken to the labour ward which would mean leaving Liv.
Leaving Liv is never or has never been an option for me - Liv and I have spent pretty much every day together since the day she was born, shes my right arm and I am hers. The very thought of leaving her made me feel just a little bit sick but I was left with no other option so off to the ward I went. We all know how you never EVER get any sleep in hospitals and let me tell you,this stay was no different. During the night I was getting more and more frequent and stronger contractions but after a night and morning they suddenly stopped. Sitting on that ward was like the worst kind of torture - women coming and going, women in the deep throes of labour and some not even making it to their bed before having to go to the Labour ward!
However at 6pm on the Wednesday it was finally time for me to go.......suddenly I didn't feel all that excited anymore and truth be told, I was crapping it, all of a sudden I actually had to give birth,and well, that's not really something I relish... my foof was already wincing!
My waters were broken for me and despite reading several horror stories about it being really painful it was the opposite. I had a trainee midwife do it and she was amazing. Quick and painless it was all done and dusted so quickly. I barely evenly flinched. I was told by my midwife that they would give me just an hour for my contractions to kick in otherwise they'd have to intervene and put me on the hormone drip, something that I wanted to avoid altogether as I had past experience when I had liv. In an effort to get the ball rolling so to speak in time, I went off on a traipse round the hospital. After a good 20 mins I went back to my room to try and relax but no longer had I sat down on the bed did I start getting some strong surges and that my friends is where it ALL kicked off.
It's amazing how little I remember about the actual labour but things progressed so quickly and before I knew it I was pretty much screaming at the midwife that I wanted to PUSH... unfortunately my very lovely midwife kept telling me that it was too soon and there was no way that I would need to push. She was soon eating her words because just 20 minutes of labour I was ready to push this baby OUT!
6 minutes of pushing and little P came to this world - it was incredible experience: liberating, empowering and well, very quick. I so desperately wanted an epidural - I had it all in my birth plans, but little P had other ideas and came far too early that there was no chance of that, so with a little gas and air I managed to give birth exactly as I had dreamed of but was told I never would be able too.

Pre-birth I had already decided that I wasn't going to have any preconceptions of what type of birth I would like. With Liv, nearly every hope and dream of anything remotely natural got taken away from me and I ended up with having a  birth with so many interventions that it lead me into quite a dark place post birth. So obviously this time round I was petrified of the same thing happening again and therefore refused to really even think of labour and what I would and wouldnt like because yknow... it was never going to happen (or so it was drummed into me by various hospital staff) To me, Paige's birth was dreamlike - I've never felt that in control (or in the much pain) and I am absolutely positive this type of birth helped and enabled me to come out of the birth situation somewhat more positive, compared to how depressed and almost scarred I was from Liv's.


So there we have it..... my little P - the missing piece.