When your baby gets a little bit older you’re sort of expected to go back “to normal”. People stop offering help, and start expecting you to be back to the way you used to be. As if you had some kind of lengthy convalescence and are now back to full health.

The thing is, though, you’re not.

Your joints still ache from breastfeeding. Your back hurts. You get barely enough sleep to survive. Your body feels like it’s been rearranged somehow; it’s still not entirely yours. And that’s not even thinking about the psychological effects of having a baby; the lasting effects of PND or PNA, constantly worrying about the little person you brought into the world and love so much you’re bewildered and frightened by it. After a year has passed you’re probably trying to juggle work with parenting, and, if you’re a stay at home parent, you might be bored out of your brain. Whichever path you’ve chosen (or been forced into due to circumstances) you more than likely feel guilty. It probably gnaws at you.

Whatever you’re doing right now, at this moment, your little person is there, in the background on a loop in your mind as you worry about whether you packed enough snacks for tomorrow and whether that rash us just post-viral and whether it would be selfish to get your partner to take over for a couple of hours so you can meet up with your friend who’s going through tough times.

I don’t have any answers for you, I’m so sorry. I won’t trot out the cliché “you got this” because if you’re anything like me a) you find it annoying and b) you feel very much as though you don’t got this.

All I will say is that I’m pretty sure most women feel like this after having a baby, and that it takes a lot longer than twelve months to get over pregnancy and birth, especially if you’ve endured trauma in either or both. All I will say is it’s OK. You’re OK, or, if you aren’t, you probably will be soon. Try as much as you can to reclaim something you used to love; even if it’s just relaxing in the bath with a paperback. Cling to your mum friends, because they know. They really do. And this:

Well done.

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One Year

It’s a little bit late, but I wanted to mark Arthur’s first birthday by writing him a letter.

Dear Arthur,

12 months. One whole trip around the sun. A year has come and gone since you burst into our lives, and it’s been tough, and wonderful, and awe-inspiring and hilarious.

Now you’re one there’s a lot happening with you. You started walking at 11.5 months, which was so exciting. I love watching you tearing around, investigating everything and pulling everything apart. You’re saying some words now, too. For a long while your favourite word was “Daddy”, even to the point of chanting it round Sainsbury’s. Your first proper word was “duck” but we haven’t heard it since. You say “Arthur!” tenderly as you recognise yourself in the mirror and give yourself a kiss. You’re also pretty good at “Wow!” and “Oh!” but my favourite word so far has to be “bauble” which has replaced all other words as you’re so pleased with it. No Mama, not yet. Why would you need it? I’m always here, after all. And I’m beginning to be concerned that you think my name is Boob anyway.

So, what else are you up to? Books. You love love love them. You’re never happier than when sat in a big pile of your books, turning pages upside down happily to yourself. You prefer to do this whilst listening to music in your bedroom. I didn’t get to that stage until I was at least 12, so well done there.

You’re funny. So, so funny, and you know it, too. Thankfully you still do your Roland Rat laugh, only now it’s accompanied by the cheekiest of grins, with plenty teeth. You love it when we chase you, especially if you notice the gate to the stairs has been left open and there’s an opportunity for some climbing.

You have so many amazing toys, but right now you’re not that interested. What’s more important to you is practising your walking, up and down, up and down the hall. You’re often carrying something as you go; a toy car, dolly, perhaps even the coaster I got from a wedding in Nice years ago. That’s a particular favourite. You’re sociable and loving and you adore other children, but Daddy and I are still your favourites.

Hopefully, as you enter your second year, I’ll be a bit more with it. It’s a tough gear to get into, parenthood, and I wasn’t always sure I was doing the right thing. I did my best, and that seems to be enough for you. As long as we get our sticky cuddles and kisses every time you toddle over to me, only to race off again, I think we’ll be OK. There’s a lot of fun stuff waiting for us this year. More talking, more playing, more holidays, more tearing about. Crayons, sticker books, play-doh and glitter. Trips to the zoo, trips to the seaside, chips and chocolate and apples and carrots. All of that and more.

I’m so glad you came along. I’m so glad we get to be your parents. I’m so proud of you. Keep being you, Little Droid. You’re the best person we’ve ever met.

Love,

Boob.


Arthur is nearly 11 months old. In some ways it feels as though my tiny baby disappeared in the blink of an eye, but mostly it feels as though he’s been here forever. In the blur and fog of the first year, it’s hard to remember what it was like before he showed up, perfect despite everything, and we lost ourselves to him. Now he’s almost a toddler really; pushing around the baby walker I found at a charity shop for peanuts, turning over all his toys with wheels to examine them intently like a baby mechanic, babbling as though he really wants us to understand him. 
I’m still breastfeeding. In all honesty, I thought I would have stopped by now but we’re dealing with a very specific set of circumstances. When I started to offer Arthur food five months ago (is it really that long?) he started to show signs of something called an IGE Mediated Allergic Reaction. Put simply, certain foods give him an alarming rash. Eggs, dairy, soy, citrus and banana are all off the table. I check ingredients obsessively, making sure he isn’t going to consume anything that will make him poorly. He can’t have any commercially available formulas as they all contain one or more of the things he’s allergic to.
In addition to this issue, Arthur won’t take food from a spoon. By necessity we’re doing ‘Baby-Led Weaning’ which means he hardly eats anything at all, and he also won’t take a bottle or drink water from a sippy cup yet. 
Breastfeeding is wonderful, a perfect cuddle, stillness in a busy day and a chance to check on Arthur at night. It helped us to get that elusive bond from day one, and I’ll always be so grateful that we were able to do it first time. But after such a long time of being my baby’s only real energy source, I find I’m tired. I’m starting to look forward to a time I can say yes to evening invitations, or to going out on the weekends for longer than three hours. I want to know that next year I’ll be able to organise some childcare without worrying that he’s not going to eat anything for hours. My hair and skin are suffering under the strain of my body providing nutrition for someone else for so long. My shoulders and back are always sore, as are my joints because of the relaxin that’s still being released into my system. Teeth make it very uncomfortable. I’m tired from having to get up at least once every night to feed, meaning I haven’t had an unbroken night’s sleep in nearly a year. My husband can’t really parent in the way I’d like him to (or the way he’d like to) because Arthur is still so dependent on me. It’s me he needs when he wakes up in the night, only me who can do bedtimes and first thing in the morning wake-ups. So, as a way of learning from my experiences, here’s what I’d recommend to other breastfeeding mothers in the early months based on my experience. Hope it’s helpful to someone!
Introduce a bottle and offer it consistently
At  5 months Arthur was able to take a bottle, and we’d offer it sporadically on the very rare occasions Will was parenting solo. To my regret we didn’t keep doing it, and by 7 months when we tried again he angrily rejected it. We’ve tried tonnes of different teats, all to no avail. He just won’t have it. I can’t help thinking that he might have found drinking from a cup a little easier if he’d realised he could actually suck from a bottle!
Introduce foods one by one and monitor for reactions
I had never even considered that Arthur might have food allergies. I blithely assumed he’d be just like me and be able to eat anything. If I had my time to do over again I wouldn’t crash straight in and offer everything at once the way I did this time, and I would (despite all current advice) start with the blandest foods, one at a time, which is what I eventually had to do on the helpful advice of a friend who’s been there before. It was hard to tell at first what he’d reacted to, and I didn’t even realise the rash was a problem until I raised it with my wonderful online Mum group. The only way to tell what was going on was to give those foods again, and I really think part of Arthur’s reluctance to eat is that he remembers those early reactions. I’d also (sorry, sorry BLWers) offer a spoon consistently every day. Even if I had done this there’s no guarantee, but I suspect Arthur might be a little further on with his eating and I might be able to leave him with someone else once in a while!
I know just how many women try to breastfeed and find it impossible, and I’m really glad and grateful for our success. Having said that, when the time comes to finally move on I think I’ll be glad that Arthur can be a little more independent. As we say in our group “This too shall pass”. Until then, my boob monster and I will keep plodding on.
Good luck with your feeding, however you’re doing it!

River Of Slime

Peter Venkman: Hey, how many of you people out here are a national monument? Raise your hand, please? Oh, hello, Miss!

I find myself thinking about Ghostbusters II a lot these days.


Bear with me.


I’m an 80s baby, and the Ghostbusters films were truly awesome. My brothers and I loved them. What’s chiming for me at the moment is the storyline of II.

In case you’ve never seen it, the basic idea is that there’s a river of supernatural slime flowing underneath New York City and feeding off all the negative emotions of the population. Everyone’s bad temper, anger, misanthropy and hatred is creating a monster.


I’ve been thinking about it a lot because it feels very much like what we’re living through at the moment. There’s an awful lot of negativity online, in the news and in the streets. In London everything feels uneasy in a way it hasn’t in all 18 years I’ve lived there. It might just be me that’s changed because of having a baby, but I don’t think it’s just that. There’s been a shift.


In the film there turns out to be a pretty brilliant solution. The boys take the “mood slime” (turns out it reacts to positive emotions, too), use their guns to fire it all over the Statue of Liberty, put on some banging tunes and have her walk through the streets of Manhattan with everyone singing and waving. They bring some positive energy back. It strikes me that we could do with something like that, albeit a little less bonkers. Back in the day, when I was teaching, I got to create my very own positive mood slime all the time. I helped my colleagues bring kids and staff together with singing, positivity and love every time we put on a show or a concert. It was our very own Ghostbusters II finale, twice a term. On a larger scale the 2012 Olympics did the most amazing job of bringing everyone together. People from all over the country volunteered and welcomed athletes and visitors,and for three weeks we were the place to be. It was amazing.


Right now there’s a lot of head-shaking. A lot of people ask the question “What kind of world are we bringing our children into?” and I understand the concern. I sometimes find myself sinking into anxiety at the dark place the world seems to be right now. So I’ve started turning off the TV, ignoring the trolls and filling my timelines with positive people. I’m living life on much smaller scale for the time being, and it’s helping. 


Moments with Arthur are constantly amazing. Today he has clapped for the first time, kissed his cousin on the head and held her hand, reached out his arms for his grandparents, uncle and aunt and made “brum brum” noises playing with his toy steering wheel. Not bad.


Wishing you a whole river of positive mood slime.

Rocking Motherhood?

About three weeks ago I was tagged by the lovely Ellie of @howtogrowaperson (find her lovely blog here). The idea was for mum bloggers to write about ten things they’re doing to rock motherhood.

I must confess, I’m a little stumped. Most days I’m 100% faking it.  However, over on our amazing Facebook group we have a lovely tradition we call WWRT? (What Went Right Today?) so I’ve decided to take that as my inspiration.

  1. Arthur seems to be thriving. He’s getting bigger, smiling, giggling and interacting all the time. What could be better than that?
  2. I’m still managing to get up, showered and dressed every day, and put on my all-important make-up. There are a lot of things I’ m not doing, including working on my idea for a novel or on this blog, but let’s gloss over that. I’m looking after a baby, and Rome wasn’t built in a day.
  3. I’m using my bullet journal again, which is making me feel way more organised.
  4. I’m participating in WWRT every single day and saving my posts to a google doc with a picture for every day. I realised it was ridiculous that I was worrying that I wasn’t keeping a record of Arthur’s first year, because I was already doing it and I could easily save it and look back over it using the magic of google docs. Now we can both look back over it in years to come. Google ain’t going anywhere.
  5. I’m finally managing to use the sling for proper trips rather than just round the house. That’s a massive step forward for me as it’s taken me a really long time to feel even slightly like my old self after pregnancy and my c-section.
  6. On a similar note, I’m now doing yoga every day. It’s making a huge difference to my physical and mental health.
  7. After a brief (one night) flirtation with the idea of combi-feeding (because I thought formula was the magic ticket for an unbroken night’s sleep), I’ve accepted that Artoo just wakes up in the night. He’s back to boob only. This too shall pass.
  8. We’re reading more books together. Arthur loves to hold his board books, turn the pages and gnaw on them. We don’t always finish a story, but that’s not the point at the moment!
  9. I’m taking loads of photos of Artoo and his Dad napping together. They do it a lot in the early mornings when I’m yoga-ing or showering, and it’s gorgeous. I have pictures of them sleeping together from our first day home from hospital, and it’s my little tradition now. I’m looking forward to making a collage for the wall or a picture book.
  10. Most days we make it out of the house. Winning.