JUST DO IT

Joni is going to be 2 years old in a couple of weeks. Absolutely can’t believe how quickly these two years have flown by. Another mystery of parenting: two years can go by in flash and yet you can feel like your child has always been with you. The other day I found myself trying to remember who looked after Joni on the morning of our wedding – after a few seconds I realised that she didn’t exist then! So strange.

In two years we’ve had 2 children, moved house, broken a leg, battled sleep, had a couple of holidays, hospital stays, had childminders, back to work, new friends, old friends, Christmases and birthdays and, most recently, I’ve started a charity. It’s been busy. And really, being busy is what this post is about.

When Wilbur was born I was shocked. I had to work hard to work out how to be a mother of two children and, whilst on days like today it’s still hard, I think I’m getting there. Something changed: I decided to JUST DO IT. Just get up every day and do it. Even if Wilbur has woken me every 45 minutes and Joni is crying and shouting NO MUMMY at everything I do I’m just going to do it. And what’s more? I’m going to just do it with enthusiasm and love. I realised I only get one chance at this. Whilst I can certainly not promise to not Instagram pictures of Joni crying or tell Twitter how bloody tired I am, I will parent with all my energy.

It will be the blink of an eye before they’re at school and this phase is all over. So I’ll enjoy it.

I realised that in order to JUST DO IT, I need to do something separate from the children too. So that’s one of the reasons I started First Days. It’s a cause I have had on my heart for a while and I just decided to do it in January. Have a look at the First Days website to find out more.

Obviously there are hard days. Tired days. Can’t be bothered days. But I’m trying. Trying to be the best for my family and for me and so far it seems to be working. I never thought being so busy would work for me, but it is. So my advice, if you have little ones driving you mental: JUST DO IT. Enjoy it, miss it when it’s over … and wish me luck.

Our best parenting efforts with Joni represented in this picture!

Breastfeeding: Revisited

Inevitably, this post is about breastfeeding. I say inevitably because its impossible for it not to consume your thoughts when you’re doing it for hours every day. I have written before about breastfeeding … It’s somewhere in the archives, I would link to it … But … Erm … I’m too tired.

I had a lovely walk with my Mum today, we were talking and I realised that I hadn’t really given enough credit to how hard the first 6-8 weeks were of Wilbur’s life. Looking after him whilst tending to the needs to a toddler whose world had been tipped upside down was tough. It was beautiful, wonderful and unbelievably hard. One reason it was so hard was because Wilbur fed constantly. I didn’t realise how constantly until I remembered an evening where I unlatched him after a feed, ran to the bathroom and had a speed bath before the next feeding call would inevitably come. I realised this because now I can – almost – guarantee a good hour between feeds, often longer. I’ve been surprised at the number of people who have either been congratulatory that I’ve managed it with two under two (thank you kind people) or those who have been of the ‘why are you bothering?!’ brigade (less helpful and no thanks).

Well, here is why I am bothering: because, for me, it’s the laziest and easiest thing to do. It guarantees that I rest and cuddle Wilbur. It’s free and the milk is always ready and prepared.

I understand the scientific research about health benefits etc but that doesn’t really do it for me. At the moment the hassles associated with formula feeding far outweigh the benefits (sharing feeding and more sleep because of it). Breastfeeding, along with a lot of other things, has been easier for me with my second child because even on the bad nights I know that it will not last forever. I didn’t have the luxury or security of this sense of perspective with Joni.

All the pressure that women have on them to breastfeed is incredibly unhealthy for new mums. Being a parent can be a never ending guilt parade if you let it. I know that I have been extremely fortunate to have a 24 hour breastfeeding supporter and teacher who knows me so well (my Mum, a midwife) and I know that this support is a huge contributing factor to me breastfeeding.

But do you know what? Like with how you birthed your baby, no one is going to appear with a certificate, gold star or a trophy when you breastfeed. There’s no league table. And if you didn’t breastfeed? Same applies. Its not like your child needs to put it on their UCAS form is it? (Do those even still exist?!) So really, the point of this post is just to say this: Calm down. We’re all doing our best, ok?

As soon as breastfeeding becomes anything but the best way for me to effectively parent my children I’m stopping. So there.

Two under two

I’ve put off writing this post because if you have more than one baby you’ll already know this and if you don’t have any then you might not believe me! But I’m going to write anyway.

There are times when I wonder what on earth we were thinking having children 19 months apart, then – as if they can read my mind – my children remind me. As soon as Wilbur merely whimpers Joni runs to him, offers him Pete (Peter Rabbit, her BFF) and says “don’t cry Wilbur” and in return as soon as Wilbur catches sight of Joni he smiles with so much love for his big sister.

To begin with it was hard. Really, really hard. I had a planned caesarean for Wilbur’s birth, which took a long time to recover from. In the first few weeks Wilbur was sleepy, jaundiced, and not putting on weight. Then he was hungry – really, really hungry. Then Joni got a tummy bug and so did Wilbur. Then he got a cough and cold, again from his big sister. Then I got sad.

I was really, really sad. I cried all the time, didn’t want to go out or see anyone. I cancelled plans and stayed inside. I was very worried that I was spiralling into a pit of depression. I was incredibly sleep deprived and not coping at all. I wondered what on earth we’d done to ourselves having two children so close together. In the end Chris had a week off when Wilbur was 8 weeks old and after then things changed. I caught up on some sleep, which really helped and I was feeling human again after the surgery. Chris was a brilliant support throughout a very hard couple of months, and talking to him really helped me through it.

I still get anxious, I get anxious when I have a day with no plans. I adore Joni, but her conversation isn’t exactly stimulating yet. I am still more tired than I could begin to describe. 3 or 4 hours sleep every night followed by a full day of juggling both children on my own is the most physically demanding thing I have ever done. But, I am managing and most of the time I actually like it. One huge benefit of having a second child is a reassuring sense of perspective. I know phases are short and change quickly. I know that, at some point, I will get more sleep.

Wilbur and Joni are an absolute joy. Recently Joni has cracked her first joke and her little personality makes her the best almost 2 year old ever (obviously). Wilbur is so easy to please, as long as he’s fed at least every two hours, he happily laughs and smiles the day away.

I have big plans for the next year, for myself and for our little family, and I think I’ve emerged from the newborn fog – with two children under two – more confident and with a renewed sense of I CAN DO THIS!

Despite our fair share of bad minutes, hours and sometimes days, I strongly believe that if I can do this then anyone can.

Joni, Pete and Wilbur

Wilbur’s Birth – The Recovery

I want to write about the recovery from a caesarean – which is hard and, in most cases, longer than recovery from a vaginal birth because I hadn’t remembered what it was like from last time and because I want you to know that it is not An Easy Option.

After Wilbur was born we were taken to a recovery ward for a couple of hours. The midwife here was absolutely wonderful. She helped us with breastfeeding and was incredibly attentive and kind. The care we had in theatre and recovery was outstanding. I really don’t think it could have been better.

We were then taken to the post natal ward. When Joni was born my experience of post natal care was terrifying. We were at a different hospital this time though, and I was optimistic that anything had to be better than last time.

I have a real passion for improvements in postnatal care in hospitals. I truly believe that something can be done to improve the care that women receive, especially on the first night with their new baby. I am doing the ground work at the moment for a project that I believe will improve the care for these women. More on that another day.

I think it was easier to cope this time around because Wilbs is my second baby, I knew what I was doing, and also because I hadn’t been through a gruelling 30 hour labour before my operation.

Recovering from a caesarean isn’t easy. It’s not easy to care for a new born baby, on your own, when you can’t use your legs and you’re pumped full of strong pain killers because you’ve had abdominal surgery. I had a horrible reaction to some of the anaesthetic – my whole body was so itchy that I wanted to rip my skin off. I was told that I could have some piriton. The midwife went to get it. No one appeared. This was at the evening drug round at midnight. I didn’t get any until 10am the next day, by which time I had scratched my tummy until it had bled and was really annoyed! The midwife on the new shift was very apologetic and wrote so in my notes. In fact, despite pressing the call bell I didn’t see anyone for at least 6 hours in that first night. I was annoyed and wanted to go home. If this had been my first baby I think I would have been scared.

The breastfeeding support was not great. It was clear that staff were Doing Their Best but this only served to make it crystal clear that there were not enough staff. More on that another time. We got home after 48 hours, which was a win in my book.

Wilbur was a little jaundice and so was very sleepy. At the hospital they weigh babies at birth, day 3 and day 10. This caused us a few problems. Wilbur lost weight after birth, and I think continued to lose weight up until around day 7. A weigh in on day 5 would have, in my suspicion, had alarming results. He was incredibly sleepy and not a very energetic feeder. So at day 10 I was told that he had to be putting on weight … in the next 24 hours … or else. I was very worried. I had been exclusively breastfeeding and was definitely doing my best by feeding him on demand.

So, after a teary phone call, I got some help from the breastfeeding clinic at the hospital where my Mum works. This was excellent. I truly believe that breastfeeding is really hard, if not impossible, without the right support. Some tweaks to my technique and a lot of confidence boosting praise later and we were set to get Wilbur putting on weight. He then fed, continuously, for 5 days. He’s now put on weight and is above his birth weight. Major phew.

In retrospect I think (with no medical knowledge and only my own experience) that our feeding issues were directly related to having an elective caesarean. My milk didn’t come in properly until day 5 or 6 (due to delayed release of oxytocin because no labour?!), I couldn’t hold him comfortably due to my wound and he was very snuffly because all that mucus wasn’t shoved out of his lungs en route through the birth canal. We did over come it though and feeding has got easier and better now he’s 3 weeks old.

Recovery from a c-section with a toddler at home has been hard. My wound still hurts, walking isn’t easy and I am dreading having to lift Joni anywhere in the next few weeks.

It doesn’t help that this week I’ve had a cold and Joni has had a tummy bug … But we’re surviving (thanks to loads of family to help).

Making the choice to have a c-section was still the right one for us – but I have to admit that the recovery has been harder than I thought it would be.

Thankfully to countenance all the tears (me and joni) there was lots of tolerance and kindness (Chris and Wilbur – who was kind enough to sleep through all of Joni’s vomiting in the car episodes this week, thanks tummy bug).

Joni and the tummy bug

Wilbur doing what he does best

Wilbur’s Birth Day

Nothing spontaneous happened. Our section was booked for 28th September at 39 weeks. I had been in so much back pain (Wilbur was indeed back to back with his head floating in and out of my pelvis – much like his sister) that I hadn’t slept more than 2 hours a night for a week. I was ready.

We arrived at the hospital at 7:30 am, we were talked to by consultants, midwives and anaesthetists, we got changed into theatre clothes and went to wait in a waiting room for our turn to be called.

We waited for a few hours, which I didn’t mind as I got to watch helicopter heroes and homes under the hammer (excellent). I had a couple of weepy moments. It is completely strange knowing that your baby is going to be born in the next hour or two.

We were walked down to theatre and I was sat down on the operating table. This was the worst bit. I was shaking – I think with nerves and excitement. The anaesthetist administered the spinal block. What is it about anaesthetists? Is it their personality that draws them to anaesthetics or their training that makes their nature so kind and reassuring? Either way, that anaesthetist and his assistant were our best friends for the next hour or so.

Once the anaesthetic was in I was laid down and they got to work! I was feeling quite ill at this point, so my new best buddy gave me some anti-sickness drugs to sort that out and suddenly I was overwhelmed with calm and peace. It took them a while to get Wilbur out, he was stuck in a strange position inside me – lots of tugging and pulling later and we heard a little yelp. I burst into tears. Then he really let go and screamed and screamed and screamed. We were so relieved. I had spent ages telling Chris that he might not be able to breathe properly and might have to go to the NICU. We were overwhelmingly pleased to hear those screams.

He was taken for a quick wipe down and a quick check by the midwife, accompanied by his Daddy, and then brought straight back to me within moments for some skin to skin cuddles. I held him whilst they were closing me up and then gave him to Daddy for a big cuddle. It was a huge relief that he was born. I was just crying and kissing him and telling him how much he looked like his big sister.

When Joni was born I missed out on the feelings of elation that I’ve heard talked about after birth. I felt abused and traumatised and neglected. Wilbur’s birth redressed the balance. I was on cloud nine. I’ve never felt elation like it. I’ve not come down actually (aside from a little cry yesterday morning about how much breastfeeding was hurting).

If I could have I would have run around the recovery room shouting about it. I was the first woman in the world to have a baby! It is AMAZING! Etc.

Obviously I couldn’t do that. Instead the amazing midwife in recovery helped me get Wilbur breastfeeding and laughed at me quite a lot. Embarrassingly, every time I spoke to Chris or he came back into the room my heart rate started racing up and making the machines beep. I also kept talking about how hungry I was and how I could really eat a cheeseburger. I’m glad I didn’t – the toast I ate a while later made me so sick I needed more anti-sickness drugs!

Deciding to have an elective caesarean was the right decision for us. It took the fear of the unknown away. We were confident going into the birth and it was the most peaceful, joyful and wonderful experience. It’s certainly not the easy option (I will write about the recovery) but it definitely was the best thing for us.

Wilbur’s Birth – The History

Wilbur’s birth story starts long before last Friday morning. It starts when Joni was born, in fact. The experience and lasting effects of Joni’s birth could have easily resulted in Wilbur not existing at all. Once we found out we were pregnant with our second child thoughts about birth consumed me. It’s a cliche, but the 8 months leading up to Wilbur’s birth were quite an emotional journey.

For a few months I buried my head in the sand, pretended it wouldn’t happen at all and had nightmares about it. Then, one day I decided that we should get some help to process what happened with Joni. The first step was to get hold of my notes from the old hospital, I was so scared of reading them. I was convinced they would say that I hadn’t tried hard enough and everything that happened was my fault. Of course they didn’t.

We then decided that we could do with a little more help. A friend introduced me to Lisa, who is a local Doula. She also offers sessions of birth reflections counselling, we bravely asked her to come over and help us. We had two sessions of two hours. It was the best decision we made in this pregnancy. We processed Joni’s birth, learned things about each other and how we both felt and then were able to focus on our options for the next birth. Lisa’s help was invaluable. If you have had a traumatic birth experience I would urge you to get this sort of help, either on your own or as a couple. Lisa also encouraged Chris and I to spend more quality time together, which we did, and this really helped us prepare for Wilbur’s birth too.

The second best decision we made in this pregnancy was regular visits to an osteopath. I suffered badly in my pregnancy with Joni with Pelvic Girdle Pain or SPD. My Mum persuaded me (and gave me some money!) to see Kul, who is actually some sort of Osteopath Sent From Heaven. He significantly reduced the pain I was in and up until week 35 it was manageable. From week 35 onwards me and the baby were just too big for it not to be very painful. He also said that if my pelvis was in the position it was in at my first appointment when I gave birth to Joni then it’s no wonder she was stuck in a weird position.

So, we had decisions to make.

I saw my consultant and a consultant midwife to discuss VBAC vs. Elective Caesarean. In the end we all agreed: if this baby is in the same position that Joni was in and if the pain presents itself in my back then I do not have to try for a VBAC as it is likely to end in a section anyway.

Chris and I decided this: we would book an Elective Caesarean and if I went into spontaneous labour before that date that we would see what would happen … But we knew one thing for sure: we were in control of ensuring this baby made the safest entry into the world: an entry that didn’t traumatise his Mummy.

Introducing Wilbur

He arrived. At long last he arrived. My son. Our second child. Joni’s little brother.

Emotionally and physically this pregnancy has been harder than I imagined it would be. From a physical perspective I feel like my immune system took a real bashing, I didn’t really feel well for 8 months. Nothing life threatening or worrying in a serious medical sense, just a general feeling of unwell, which slowly but sure grinds you down. Then there were my pelvic problems, which were managed well up until around 35 weeks through regular visits to the osteopath. However, the sheer size of me from 35 weeks made the pain constant and at times utterly unbearable. People with chronic pain should not be under estimated, they are stronger and more brave than you can imagine.

I have been challenged emotionally more than I could have thought. The pregnancy at the beginning was blighted with thoughts that I didn’t deserve it, and thus something was going to go wrong. I think I am acutely aware of how lucky (lucky? Maybe wrong word. Fortunate? I don’t know) Chris and I are to have not had any problems conceiving. I know I am very grateful for this. But I did feel guilty – did I deserve another child? I know the world doesn’t work like that. But still, i felt bad. Then crept in my biggest fear: could I love another child? Is it possible to love another child with the deep love I have for Joni? Lots of people reassured me it was, but actually – up until Friday morning – I believed that I was broken and I couldn’t really love another baby. I felt so sad that this baby wouldn’t be loved.

Chris and I battled through my emotions, pain and hormones and got to Friday morning. And on Friday the most spectacular thing happened. So wonderful in fact that I’m going to write about it separately in another post. Our baby boy was born. At 11:13am weighing 8lbs 3ozs. He was born and, like the cliches say, every thing melted away. All the pain and all my fears. It turns out all those people who told me that my heart could grow exponentially were right. The birth of our son, the result of 9 months of seriously hard work, has definitely changed me deep inside.

We are a family of four. I have childREN. Joni is a sister.

Of course, I think about the next few months and wonder WHAT ON EARTH?! How does this work?!!! But we’ll find our way. I am confident, for the first time, that us four will find a way – together.

I’m really looking forward to writing down the story of Wilbur’s birth and the journey we took to get there after the traumatic entrance that Joni made. I want to do this justice though so I will save it for another time.

In the mean time – here are some photos of our first 48 hours together, before we leave hospital this morning.

Wilbur and Mam

Wilbur and Gags

Daddy