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Thursday, December 19, 2013

Christmas sensory light play for babies and toddlers

Christmas is such a magical time for children - the Christmas tree, decorations, lights, presents and Santa are all super exciting for kids. A child's first ever Christmas is such a special occasion, despite the fact they probably have no idea what's going on. 

Having a baby who's only 5 months old at Christmas time {like I did} means they can't quite comprehend Christmas enough yet, but that doesn't stop them wanting to knock over the tree, pull off all the decorations and put everything in their mouths - because putting stuff in your mouth is the coolest thing ever when you're 5 months old. 

Not so cool when it involves tinsel, wrapping paper, gift tags and god forbid electric Christmas lights. So, while Christmas time and decorations are exciting for kids, it's not really that safe for young children and can be a bit stressful for parents, myself included.

baby looking at christmas lights

I have to admit I'm one of those mums who's overly paranoid about safety when it comes to babies. It could be some type of first time mum syndrome, or maybe it's just a natural instinct when it comes to parenting. Having said that though I don't want her to miss out on the fun of Christmas just because she's a baby. 

I've been searching for fun Christmas light ideas for babies for ages, but nothing was quite right so I literally went and scoured the cupboards to find items I had at home that I could use to create my own baby proof Christmas light play. Turns out I had everything I needed to create a great sensory play activity already, and you probably do too.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Dealing with postnatal depression



Image source: PANDA

This post is very hard for me to write. I have thought about writing it over and over for the past few weeks. Each time I talk myself out of it. I come up with numerous reasons not to write it - I don't want to open myself up to judgement, I don't know if I want people to know that this happened, I still carry too much guilt, I don't want my daughter to think she wasn't loved... the list goes on. Even now sitting in front of the computer screen I am not sure that I will be able to find the right words to express my feelings correctly. I have finally convinced myself that I should write this out and that I should not be ashamed. I don't want to send the message that this is something to be ashamed of.

Becoming a mother did not go the way that I always thought it would. I spent so many years of my life dreaming about this that I had played it over and over in my head so much so it was like I had already lived it. In my dreams it all went well and I was super-mum and had the perfect baby. Obviously that was an unrealistic expectation, but in reality I would have been happy just to have a smooth adjustment into motherhood and a special bond with my baby. I thought there was no way I wouldn't get this so I never feared that I would not be a good mum. It had been my life long mission to be a mum. I felt as though it was my purpose for living and I have always been good with babies so I never had any reason to doubt myself. Until my baby was born.

There were a lot of reasons that lead me to a very sad place. I was warned at my first hospital visit that my family history with mental illness could make me more susceptible to post natal depression. According to the questionnaire they make you do I was only medium risk, but they also said my birth experience would have a huge impact as well. Unfortunately for me my birth experience was incredibly traumatic for me. I think this is when the depression first started to creep in. Nothing had gone to plan in the past - I wasn't able to get pregnant myself, I had heaps of complications during pregnancy and then to top it all off I couldn't even give birth the way I had wanted to. I felt like I had failed. I felt like I was hopeless at being pregnant and giving birth so therefore I would be hopeless as a mum. In reality I had no control over my pregnancy complications or my birth experience so I shouldn't have blamed myself but in my cloud of depression all I could think was that it was all my fault.

I am still ashamed to admit that I did not feel an instant overwhelming bond with my baby. Of course I did love her and she was extremely wanted, but I didn't feel that bond that everyone tells you mothers will have straight away. I imagined that I would give birth and the baby would be placed on my chest, I would hold her for the first time and there would be this overwhelming outpouring of love. Tears would flow as she had her first cry and I wouldn't be able to notice anything in the room except her. My experience was very different.

She was delivered by emergency c-section and it was a very quick, unexpected and drug fuelled experience. When she came out I wasn't expecting it yet. The operation had just begun and I was still in shock that I was having a c-section and wasn't prepared to meet her so quickly. She came out a grey colour and not crying (most likely because of the copious amounts of Pethidine and Morphine they had given me). She wasn't passed to me, but whisked away. I could see her from across the room, but I was so dazed and confused from the Pethidine that I couldn't really focus on her. After a few minutes T brought her over to me, but I couldn't hold her because I was shaking so uncontrollably from the pethidine. A little while later her and T were taken to recovery and I was left lying there on the operating table alone (well except for the 11 or so drs and nurses in the room). Instead of ravishing my new baby with hugs and kisses in the first few moments of motherhood, I was instead lying on a table listening to nurses talk about how they thought they had stuffed up the knot in one of my stitches. It wasn't exactly the joyous experience I had imagined. Nevertheless I went home happy. I had my baby that I had always wanted.

The first two weeks were easy. She ate, pee'd & poo'd then slept. Apart from waking multiple times for night feeds and thus being sleep deprived, life was going along smoothly. Once T went back to work it all changed. I was bombarded with differing and conflicting advice from all directions which made me second guess everything I was doing. I lost confidence in my ability to do things. I was questioning my instincts. I had a very unsettled baby which made everything worse. Drs kept telling me it was normal for babies to cry all the time and get rashes and they acted like I was just a paranoid first time mum. On top of this people were telling me it was my fault. If I was upset she would be upset, but I was upset because she was upset, so it was a vicious cycle of emotions. It all came to a head when I had my second midwife visit.

I had been eagerly awaiting the visit in the hope that it would restore my confidence. She would reassure me that I was doing a good job and I would feel more relaxed. Instead she walked in complaining that she shouldn't have to deal with home visits as midwives should only need to deal with babies for the first three days after they are born. She set up the scales and weighed her then proceeded to tell me that I was obviously starving my child because she wasn't gaining enough weight. When I mentioned her colic she told me colic isn't real and that babies only cry because they are hungry so every time she cries I needed to feed her. I told her that she would only sleep on me so I could never 'sleep when the baby slept'. She told me I should sleep with her on me. When I questioned the safety of this given it goes against all the SIDS rules they teach you her response horrified me. She looked me up and down and said it wouldn't be unsafe because I wasn't fat enough to smother anything. Instead of boosting my already shattered confidence, her visit did the complete opposite. I was now not only being offered unsolicited advice that I was doing things wrong, but I was being directly told by a professional that I was essentially a bad mum. That visit broke me.

I felt abandoned by the professionals who were meant to be there for me. I felt ridiculed by my friends (who I'm sure thought they were being helpful at the time). I felt unsupported by my family. I felt like I was all alone, charged with the task of looking after this poor helpless baby who I was literally terrified of at times. I would lay in bed fearful of when she woke up because I knew it meant hours of screaming, vomiting, crying and stress. I knew it could take me up to 7 hours to get her to go back to sleep. I knew I wouldn't eat because I would spend the entire time trying to comfort her that I would forget about my own needs. I also knew that I wouldn't sleep at night for fear of it all happening again the next day. I was stuck in a vortex of darkness. I couldn't see a way out. I started to think she would be better off without me. I started thinking she deserved a better mum, one who knew what she was doing. I felt disconnected from her. I felt great shame because I just didn't know how to establish a close bond with her. I felt so guilty about this because I had spent years wanting her. I wanted her with me all the time because I was so desperate to calm her and make her better, but at the same time I thought I was the source of her pain. It was a catch 22. I couldn't do anything right. I was spinning out of control.

The only good thing that midwife did was give me the number for the government health nurses. The following day in complete despair I called them to arrange a home visit. I was sure I was failing and that my child was not thriving because of me, but I wasn't about to give up on her or our relationship. I was determined to speak up and ask for help. I was not going to let my depression affect her. I was determined to get better for her. I wanted to be the best mum for her. It was my last ditch effort to get help. I felt like I had spent the last two weeks shouting from the rooftops that I needed help yet had been ignored or shutdown by everyone. Thankgod for the health nurse (who immediately recognised my signs of post natal depression).

She was my saviour. When she came I felt instantly at ease. I broke down and told her everything I was feeling. I was petrified that they would take my baby away from me, but I was also desperate for help. She sent me to hospital to get help, with bubba. Thankfully while I was there the paediatricians finally listened to me and diagnosed bubba with a cows milk protein allergy. I was not imagining her symptoms and they were not hungry cries. She was in pain because her body could not digest her food properly. My instincts were right, the drs had been wrong. This restored my confidence in my own abilities. I finally felt like somebody had heard me. The hospital linked me up with a psychologist who I still see and the health nurse continued to visit me at home when needed. Finally I had the support system I had craved. My family also became incredibly supportive. After the first few weeks when everything started to get back on track I started to enjoy being a mum, the way I had always imagined I would. I created an incredibly close bond with my baby. Although it wasn't instant it is now extremely strong.

I urge those who suspect they may be depressed or think they aren't coping to please seek help. Speak up. There is huge societal pressure to keep quiet about post natal depression. People don't seek help for fear of being judged. This just makes the problem that much worse. Post natal depression is nothing to be ashamed of and it does not mean that you don't want or love your child. It is a lot more common than people realise and it does not discriminate. There are numerous professionals out there trained to deal with it and they will not judge or ridicule you for it. Instead they will help you, guide you and support you for as long as you need.

I have spoken out about my experience in order to help deter the stigma surrounding post natal depression (and mental illness in general). This week is post natal depression awareness week. You can do your bit by fundraising, sharing your story or simply spreading the awareness that PND exists and it is nothing to be ashamed of. If you are experiencing any signs of PND or would like to know more please visit Beyond Blue or PANDA.

Image source: Beyond Blue 

It has been extremely hard to lay myself bare and admit my experience to the world, but if it helps just one person to seek help or feel as if they are not alone then it is worth it. At first I did not want to write this incase my daughter reads it in the future and thinks that she was not loved. She was indeed very loved and it was my overwhelming love and desire for her to have the best life possible that lead me to seek help. If she does read this I hope she realises it takes courage and strength to admit that things are not ok. It is not a sign of weakness to admit you need help, it will probably be the single most important gift you can give your child.

You can read other stories via the links below.

UPDATE: Read why I'm glad I got postnatal depression.

Toni x
Tuesday, October 1, 2013

The greatest gift a man can give his daughter is to love her mother.



When I was younger I don't remember my parents saying I love you to each other that often if at all. They were always busy with work and we were back and forth from babysitters so much that I hardly ever saw them together. I never really witnessed them fight, but I didn't really see them be affectionate towards each other either. In part I think this set me up to choose my ex-husband and the dysfunctional relationship we had.

My relationship with T is a lot better and very affectionate. We say I love you all the time and we hug a lot. I have always had a strong desire to create a family where my children would grow up knowing that their parents love each other. I think its important for children to see a man treat their mother right. This is most probably because I grew up without that and I know the mistakes that I have made because of it.




I want bub (and any other children we have) to grow up having very involved parents. Affectionate parents, loving parents and an engaged father. A girls first love is her father and its important for him to create a good solid image of how a man should act because this is who she is going to judge all other men against in the future. I want her to learn that a man should treat a woman like a queen. He should help her, support her, love her and celebrate her. I want her to grow up and seek out those qualities in the men she wants to have relationships with later on. I don't want her to make the same mistakes I first made.

Thankfully I had a second chance and got my life in order before I created my family. She has a wonderful father who loves her mother very much. I hope that together we can give her a solid foundation in life.

The greatest gift a man can give his daughter is to love her mother.

Toni x

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Nothing goes as planned - the birth


Us @ 35 weeks pregnant

I know it has taken me a while to actually sit down and write about this. Partly because I haven't had much free time with a newborn and also because it was a very emotional experience for me. Part of the process of learning to deal with this experience and move on and accept it is for me to write about it.

If you have been following my story during my pregnancy you would know that all I wanted was to have a natural birth with as little intervention as possible. I figured that women have been giving birth for years, long before pain relief was available, so if they could do it then I could suck it up and do it too. I have a pretty high pain threshold and after all the complications I had throughout my pregnancy including the psd I was already used to pain. Of course I was open to intervention if it became medically necessary, but I was hoping it wouldn't. I was hoping I could at least attempt a natural birth before the drs would intervene. All the midwives had assured me along the way that I would be able to do this. So, here's what happened.....

I was lying in bed awake early in the morning on the 25th of July. Pregnancy insomnia had been plaguing me for the past few weeks so being wide awake for no reason didn't really phase me. After a while I figured I should get up and go to the toilet, mainly just to pass time not because I really needed to go. While I was on the toilet I heard a pop sound, but nothing happened. I thought it was weird but then also thought I may have been imagining it in my delirious sleep deprived state. So, I went back to bed to try and sleep. A few minutes later I felt really warm liquid literally coming out of me. At first again I thought maybe I'm just imagining this. But it continued to come out, like I totally thought I had flooded the bed. I woke T up and thought finally this might actually be happening!

We called the hospital and they said to come in and get checked out to confirm my waters were broken and make sure there were no problems. This was about 5:30am. I hadn't started having any contractions so I wasn't really in a rush. I called my mum and we decided to go pick her up on the way to the hospital. We left home about 6am and a few minutes later my contractions started. You know how everyone tells you that your contractions will start out really mild and far apart and not last for long and then gradually get worse over a period of a few hours? Yea well that's not the case if your water has already broken. Once your water breaks contractions are full on and intense. Lucky me I never got the easy contractions I just went BAM straight into the hard ones. Mine started at 4 minutes apart. You're meant to go to the hospital when your contractions get under five minutes apart so lucky we were already on our way. By the time we got to my mums house about 15 minutes later my contractions were varying between two and a half and three minutes apart. It didn't really bother me too much as I was breathing through it ok to deal with the pain and I was mainly excited that I was going to meet my baby. However I must admit labouring while stuck in a car seat for forty five minutes is not the most comfortable thing.

We arrived at the hospital just about 7am. By this stage my contractions were down to a minute and a half apart and so strong I had to stop and lean against my mum while having them. It took me about ten minutes to get up to labour and delivery because I had to stop so much along the way. I got up there and the midwife was pretty laid back really. Oh we're just setting up for the day just go into that room we'll be with you shortly. Um, ok lady you do realise I'm actually IN labour and my contractions are already a minute apart and it has progressed this much in only forty five minutes since my contractions started??? Oh and not to mention we're at a hospital and they generally operate 24/7 especially a labour suite, so how can you be just setting up or the day??? Was I meant to schedule my labour at a convenient time for you? Anyway yea those were the thoughts going through my head at the time. I was in pain and a bit frustrated. Lucky for her I never verbalised those thoughts (well not to her face).

She took her sweet ass time and finally came to examine me at 8am to see if my waters had in fact broken. By this time I had soaked through 3 lots of maternity pads and the pad things they put on the bed to soak up your waters so I figured checking to see if my water had broken was pretty much a pointless exercise. But, she told me she had to do it the correct way. As she tried to check a big flood of water came out at her before she even got close. At that point she too decided the test was pointless and I had infact broken my waters. Hurrah finally some sanity. She then checked to see if I was dilated. She informed me I wasn't dilated at all and that normally they would send me home at this point. Before I went bat shit crazy about that she said - but you're in too much pain to leave. Mind you she never offered me any pain relief after saying that. Go figure. She told us we would be there for a few hours and told T to go get me some food as I would need to eat to have enough energy to get through the labour.

So, we sat around in the cramped examination room and I ate a bit of yoghurt and had a drink in between my contractions which were still one to two minutes apart. They had me on the bed hooked up to the foetal monitor. I wanted to spend the majority of labour walking around and staying as mobile as possible because I knew it helped to speed up the process, but I wasn't given a choice. Just before 9am one of the obstetricians on duty had checked my pregnancy record and noticed that at my 30 week ultrasound the baby had been breech and asked when I had my follow up ultrasound and where was the report. Um, I was never allowed to get a follow up ultrasound because five midwives and my gp had all told me that she had flipped head down and stayed that way from 32-39 weeks. The ob got the midwife to bring in a portable ultrasound machine and check because I'd never had a proper follow up ultrasound.

As she was doing the ultrasound I knew something was wrong. When she checked where the head was supposed to be there was no head there. When she checked up the top under my ribs there was a head on the screen. She never actually mentioned any of this, but I'd had enough ultrasounds to know exactly what the images on the screen were. The midwife faked ignorance and said she wasn't good at using the machine so she would go get the ob to come do it. I knew this was her way of trying not to stress me out. I knew the ob had to come in because the baby was still breech. I knew it could ruin my plan of a natural birth. I knew at that moment everything was coming crashing down around me, but I still held out hope. She also told me to stop eating straight away (as if that wasn't a big enough clue my plans were falling apart).

And so it happened. The ob came in did the ultrasound and then very calmly explained that the baby was in the breech position and I would need to have an emergency c-section. There was no other option. I was not allowed to even attempt a natural birth. The hospital policy was that when they know a baby is breech you have to have a c-section. I pleaded with her to turn the baby manually so I could try and give birth naturally, but because my water had already broken it was impossible to turn the baby. She said they would be getting me into theatre asap and the anaesthetist would be in to explain the procedure. My world crumbled around me. I was in total shock and denial, but at the same time knew it was going to happen whether I liked it or not. Once she had left the room I burst into tears. I completely bawled my eyes out for a good few minutes.

After my little emotional outburst the anaesthetist came in and explained to me what was going to be happening. To be honest I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying because I figured the more my brain understood about the procedure the more I would stress about it. I preferred to just let it happen around me and pretend I wasn't actually there. The only thing I was worried about was the spinal and ending up paralysed from it. This is pretty much the major reason why I didn't want a c-section in the first place. Im absolutely petrified of needles and the thought of one going into my spine just elevated that fear to an entirely different level. He assured me it would be fine and that complications very rarely happen. He was actually really lovely. He could see how petrified I was and was really really nice to me. I think he was the single reason why I didn't have a complete breakdown during the operation. I had just met him, but for some reason I decided I trusted him so I was a little more ok with what was about to happen.

They were going to take me into theatre pretty much straight away, however a more life threatening case came up so my c-section was pushed back. They came in to give me some morphine (they said it was for the pain, but I knew it was to slow down my labour). The problem was I didn't have a cannula in yet so they had to inject the morphine straight into my arm. Holy fuck (excuse my french) that was bloody painful and it lasted for ages. I found out after that its because the morphine creates a massive bubble in your arm under your skin and then slowly seeps into your bloodstream. Thankfully mum and T didn't inform me of this when it was happening or I would have flipped out. I just kept repeating over and over that morphine was shit and everyone who had ever said it was amazing had been lying. To me it did nothing but create more pain. My contractions were just as intense. T later said it would have worked because the contractions never increased in intensity from there (but by then they were pretty much unbearable already). Of course a little while after that the ob came back to insert the cannula. I don't know why they didn't do that first and then put the morphine in through that so I avoided all the pain! I don't know why I was surprised though, if there is a backwards way of doing something it usually happens to me.

Anyway a bit after that they came to collect me for theatre. It was finally happening whether I was ready or not. I was not. Mind you I don't think I would ever have been mentally prepared for a c-section. The fact that it happened so quickly after I found out I needed one was probably a very good thing because I didn't have a long time to think about it.

Everything after that is kind of a blur. Probably because I had so many drugs running through my system (total opposite to what I originally wanted). I know I had the morphine, quite a bit of pethidine, maxalon, I think two other anti nausea drugs (because I had eaten) and an antacid. I remember being petrified of getting the spinal because I was still having contractions. I didn't see how they could safely insert a needle into such a tiny area when my body was making me uncontrollably move every minute. Quite a few people were holding me still and they gave me the gas to distract me from what was happening. Oh my god the gas was wonderful. It didn't take any of the pain away, but it distracted me enough I didn't really notice the contraction. And it got me high for a few seconds after breathing it. I remember the drs saying well shes smiling it must be working. I didn't actually feel the spinal go in at all (thankgod). I didn't even realise they had done it until my legs started going really warm and tingly. I remember the anaesthetist saying to me let me know when you can feel something really really cold. I couldn't feel anything at all so I was lying there thinking this is a trick question, hes not even touching me. I figured he was just messing with my mind to distract me from something. Then I started to feel something touching me, then as it moved up higher it started to get cold, then freezing. I remember thinking wow he is actually touching me with an ice cube. Then I kind of freaked out that I hadn't been able to feel it. Its a very surreal experience knowing your body is still there but you cant feel it properly. Thankfully my arms never went numb.

After that everything happened really quickly. She was out within ten minutes. I didn't even know they had started the operation. I felt someone moving my stomach but I thought they were just checking to make sure it was numb. All of a sudden they were holding her up and saying here's your baby. I remember thinking what the hell where did she come from? She came out blue so they had to give her a bit of oxygen, but then she started crying straight after. I was so out of it I didn't even really notice that happening. I was still trying to work out what was going on. Next thing I know T was beside me with our baby. She looked exactly like him. I just remember staring at her trying to work out if she was really my baby. It had all happened so quickly and I was so out of it I couldn't comprehend how she made it out of me and was now beside me.


Our little beanie baby @ 3 days old


Even though it didn't happen the way I wanted it to, we were now a family. She had finally arrived. In that single moment everything had changed. We were now parents. My dream had finally come true.
Friday, July 12, 2013

Pregnancy after infertility

Infertility is not a bad word, its ok to talk about, it doesn't define someone and it's nothing to be ashamed of.
Infertility is a hard process to go through. It makes you feel like a failure, an outcast, like you don't belong. You don't have a child so you don't fit in with those who already have children and yet its not that you don't want a child, so you also don't fit in with those who choose to be childless. Once you get to a certain point in life its like everyone is divided into categories, either you're those with children or those without. There seems to be no place for those who want children, but for whatever reason can't have them.

I'm very lucky that I have battled with infertility at this point in time. At a time where there are medical procedures available to overcome it, or at least give hope that it could be overcome. I'm also thankful for the internet. My saviour from the stress and sadness of infertility was the fact that I made so many connections with others online who were going through the same thing. Infertility is still very hush hush in society, despite it being more and more prevalent. I couldn't talk to those in my family about it as they didn't understand, I couldn't talk to friends as they didn't understand and its not really a socially acceptable thing to discuss. Plus, most people don't want to air their 'dirty laundry' in a public forum. I found I could talk to strangers online more than people in my real life as they understood what I was going through. They knew the types of treatments, they understood the emotional roller coaster. They could offer constructive advice and support when things didn't work out. I had finally found a community, a place where I belonged. A place where I could tell the truth and not hide. 

Now that I'm pregnant it doesn't mean that my infertility is cured or that I am no longer infertile. I still have the same problems that I had before I got pregnant and they'll stay with me forever. There is no guarantee that we can have more children. I'd like to think that because the medication worked this time it will work again, but that's not always the case and I'm very aware of this. I still relate to the infertile community and sympathise with their struggles. Infertility will always be a part of my life.

I have found however that once I got pregnant I was somewhat cast out of this community. Essentially I felt shunned, like I was no longer one of them because I happened to be very lucky and get pregnant. It was like I was a traitor to those who were still trying to conceive. I had something they didn't have and because of that they no longer wanted to talk to me. I was no longer a part of the group. I have even been attacked (along with other pregnant people in these groups) by members saying that those of us who are pregnant are not grateful enough and have no idea how much of a gift we have been given compared to the other girls who are still trying. I'm sorry, but just because I happened to get pregnant doesn't mean the last four years of stress, disappointment, sadness and depression didn't happen. According to these girls though it has been wiped out and now that I have got what I wanted I can no longer relate to them. In fact some of them act like I'm the enemy. I cant believe how quick they are to turn on you. I understand that they feel left out because they're still waiting for a miracle, but its like they want me to feel guilty for succeeding.

In a way infertility not only affected my life for the past few years, but it's tarnished my pregnancy as well. In the beginning I was so scared of something going wrong. I spent the first few months on edge and not enjoying the fact that I was pregnant. Instead I spent each day wondering if that would be the day it would be taken away from me. I didn't announce my pregnancy until later because I was aware of other friends who were still trying to conceive and I didn't want to upset them with my news. I didn't post belly photos as often as I wanted so I wouldn't offend others. I've spent the majority of the time curbing my behaviour that I've forgotten to sit back and enjoy my pregnancy. I felt guilty for getting pregnant and now I feel guilty for not enjoying it enough. I once again feel like I don't belong.

I have finally realised you can't please everybody. Its ok for me to sit back and think about me for a while. It's time for me to be selfish. Its time for me to enjoy my pregnancy and my baby. I'm sorry if I offend some people by doing this, but this is my time. I don't want to look back and only have regrets, especially if this ends up being the only time I get to experience it. I'm still here to support my fellow ttc friends, but I'm not going to let it dictate the way I act. Hopefully people don't think less of me for being this way.

Toni x

Friday, June 7, 2013

Pregnancy Survival Guide: 10 Ways to make pregnancy easier

Now obviously there are a million books you can buy that will supposedly tell you every little thing about pregnancy. I know, I have a few of them. I also know that as much as you intend on reading them, you will more than likely never get around to it or at least never finish them once you start. I have books beside my bed and the last part I remember reading was week 19 and I'm now 33 weeks. It seems kind of pointless to go back now and read about all the weeks in between when I've already experienced them. And to be honest, I'm kind of scared to read ahead about what's coming. I've managed to avoid having a labour freak out so far and don't want to give myself a huge number of reasons to have one now. I've kind of taken a go with the flow attitude for this pregnancy (which is not what I thought I would do).

I tried the pregnancy books, numerous magazines (I have heaps and after a while they all seem to say the same things), online forums, google, midwife advice, advice from strangers and advice from friends. Given all of this input I decided to ignore at least 50% of it and Ive kind of winged the rest of it. I know I'm no expert at being pregnant (so maybe take this with a grain of salt), but I have come up with my own top 10 pregnancy survival tips based on my experience.

10 tips to survive pregnancy.

10 EASY WAYS TO PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY SURVIVE PREGNANCY 


1. DON'T GOOGLE PREGNANCY COMPLICATIONS


Seriously do not do it! At the start of my pregnancy all I wanted to do was google everything related to pregnancy and trust me it's a very big mistake. The majority of information you'll find on google is bad, e.g. complications, reasons for miscarriage, problems the baby can have etc. All it did was make me think about everything that could go wrong. I got a huge complex that everything that could go wrong would happen to me. I didn't enjoy the first few weeks of my pregnancy because I was so stressed out. If you have any concerns talk to your doctor first and foremost, not Dr Google.

2. GRAZE LIKE A COW TO BEAT MORNING SICKNESS AND REFLUX


Ok so this sounds a bit degrading and at the time I received this advice from my doctor I was a bit offended that he was referring to me as a cow, but it's definitely good advice. He meant eat smaller meals more often. It was the only thing that got me through my morning sickness {which was actually all day sickness}. I survived that by hiding a box of biscuits in my work cabinet and sneaking two or three every half hour when there were no customers around. I got busted a few times, but I didn't care. Now that I'm at the end of the pregnancy this advice is becoming relevant again. Reflux has become a major issue for me. Everything gives me heartburn and reflux and the only way to minimise it is to eat smaller meals {and if that fails continuously chew on antacids like lollies}.

3. TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS


No matter how much information you're told by others, the person who has the best connection with your baby is you. Always trust your own instincts, even if you have never been pregnant before. You'll instinctively know when something is wrong. If you're worried about something seek help. You'll also know when things are right. It's amazing how much your instincts kick in and your body knows what to do and think, even though you've never been through it all before. When my baby sat on my sciatic nerve I knew all I had to do was lay down and get her to move, even though the first aid people at work were all freaking out and telling me they needed to call an ambulance. Your maternal instincts naturally take over.

4. FIND A SUPPORT NETWORK


Like I've said above, there are many avenues {and well meaning strangers} that will lead you to the wrong advice. As much as you should avoid these, you'll also need a support network. I originally tried to find this in online forums on baby websites, but like google this just lead me to becoming paranoid about everything that could go wrong. I've found my best source of support has been a facebook group of women who are all now pregnant after infertility. I knew some of them from my infertility journey over the last few years and for me it's been amazing being able to share advice, opinions, fears and milestones with people who understand the journey I've been through. There's no judgement which is awesome (because sometimes you feel like everyone is judging every decision you make when pregnant). Your support network may come in the form of family members, colleagues or close friends. It doesn't matter as long as you have somewhere you can go to when you need reassurance.

5. BUY A PREGNANCY PILLOW


I got mine pretty early on and I'm glad I did. They can be expensive, but well worth it as you'll be using them for some time. Trust me sleep gets quite uncomfortable, especially when you're forced to sleep on your side. Having something to cuddle into and rest on really helps. I guarantee you'll end up snuggling with your pillow way more than you do with your partner. If you don't get a proper pregnancy pillow at least get a pillow for between your legs as it will help with leg cramps and fluid retention.

6. Sleep when you can


I worked fulltime up until my body broke down at 30 weeks so I didn't really get to sleep whenever I wanted to. However, on days off I had the overwhelming need to have nanna naps. OMG Nanna naps are the best thing ever. I advise you to have them whenever and wherever you can. Now that Im on maternity leave even though Im doing less my need for naps has increased, probably because I'm a lot bigger and carrying around this weight is a lot more exhausting. Also sleep at night will soon become a thing of the past as pregnancy insomnia kicks in. I have it bad. Sleeping through the day when you get a chance will at least allow your body to get some rest.

7. Do your exercises


Yes nobody likes to talk about pelvic floor exercises, but seriously do them. I used to think oh yea it will be easy to remember, but I have still forgotten 80% of the time. Now that I have PSD it is even more crucial for me to do them as my pelvis is already out of alignment and my muscles are already stretching too much. Maybe if I did them more often earlier I wouldn't be in this situation, or at least it wouldn't be as severe.

8. Make lists


Lists have saved my life. After I had a breakdown at a baby shop the only thing that made me realise I could cope was to write out a list of what I needed. Trying to keep everything swirling around in my brain is just too confusing and leads to emotional outbursts when I cant remember everything at the same time. In the first week of my maternity leave I wrote a list of all the organising I want to get done before the baby comes (its 4 pages long) and even though I havent been able to do it all yet, it has broken it down into smaller tasks and seems a lot more achievable now. Yes I am still a planner, can you tell?

9. Take belly photos


I thought I would go crazy with this and do a photo each week just to make sure my belly was growing. I havent been quite that crazy, I take a new one about every three weeks. I feel a bit guilty for not over documenting my pregnancy so far, given that it took me so long to get here. But, I am glad that I will have photos to look back on later. If you get a chance I would seriously recommend a professional maternity photoshoot.

10. Connect with your belly


Take the time to connect with your belly. Right now it is a special bond that only you get to experience with your baby. Talk to your baby (I sometimes do this at random moments when shes kicking or rolling and I get weird looks, but people are used to it now). Touch and rub your belly. I find the best time to do this is when I am rubbing cream into my belly morning and night. Take some quiet time to sit and really concentrate on your baby's movements. I usually put my hand in between my belly and my pillow at night and feel her movements and kicks - sometimes I feel her hand or foot stretch out and push into me. Its amazing like being able to hold her before shes here.


Hopefully some of this advice has been helpful and hasn't been filtered to your ignore it box.

Do you have any other advice you would add?

Toni x
Thursday, May 16, 2013

What is the meaning of family?



When I was younger I thought family meant a mum, dad and two kids. Which was exactly what my family was at the time, at least until everything changed after dad died. I guess when I was young my definition of family was quite traditional and probably shaped by my environment. All the advertising back then was aimed at the nuclear family, divorce was rarely spoken about {I don't think I even knew what it was until my parents separated} and I didn't know there was such a thing as single mums. That was again until my mum became one {well technically a widow}. My concept of family was entirely about what I was born into, the blood relationships that I had inherited. It wasn't until I got older that I realised family could be based on relationships with people I wasn't related to.

My family before my brother was born

Through my teenage years when I experienced a bit of disconnection from my actual family I began to build my own family through my network of friends. When I was 16 I started my first real job {you know one where I actually got pay slips} and my "family" expanded further. A lot of the women I worked with were my mum's age and they became my surrogate work mums. I couldn't really understand at the time why I didn't have a close relationship with my own mother and yet I could get along with so many women her own age. I often wondered if she had the same relationship with younger people at her work. I probably also got along with the other women more because they didn't have an authoritarian role in my life, just quietly. Nevertheless they did provide me with advice and give me a place to turn when I felt I couldn't talk to anyone at home. They were my family and I still consider them a valuable part of my extended family now.

As I have grown older the socially acceptable definition of family is a lot more broader. Divorce is not hush hush like it was 20 or so years ago. In fact it's probably more prevalent than the nuclear family unfortunately. Single mums and single dads are a fact of life now too. Although the meaning of family is now a lot broader than it used to be, I still find myself craving the nuclear family. Perhaps it's because I didn't get to experience it for that long? A case of the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence maybe.

T and I were drawn to each other partially because of our similar dysfunctional families growing up. We know what its like to be on the outside of the norm. We both also have a strong desire to create a stable family life because of this. I want to have a close relationship with my daughter and I really want her to have a relationship with her father. Perhaps our childhood experiences were not entirely bad, in the sense that it has made us into the people we are today. It has fortified our strong desire to create a good family life for our children. Now that we are at the precipice of becoming parents this is always in the forefront of my mind. While I'm forever grateful for those who helped me over the years, I really hope our children will think of us as their family and wont have to find surrogates.

How do you define family? 

Are there people other than your relatives who you consider part of your family?

Toni x
Friday, March 29, 2013

Am I losing myself or finding myself?

I've always wanted to be a mum. Its been the strongest urge I've ever felt throughout my entire life. Never fading and never going away. Some people have definite plans for the way they want their life to turn out, including elaborate and well thought out career paths - the only one true plan I had for my life was that I needed to be a mum. It's literally what I have always thought is my purpose in life - the reason why I'm here. This is how I fit in. This is my place in the world.

I've been working towards this my entire life. Throughout all the awkward years when I thought I never fit in, when I didn't understand what the point of my life was and when I was encountering rejection from people around me, I always thought that one day it would all be ok. One day I would have a family of my own and I would belong. I would come into my own and I would know my place. I would be able to create my dream.

Obviously those of you who have been following my blog know that it wasnt quite that easy and my journey to motherhood has been filled with hardships, sadness and lots of waiting. But, finally I'm here, on the cusp of this incredible journey into the next stage of my life. I'm over half way and am learning to let go of my apprehensions and make room in my life for the excitement (infertility has a way of making you always prepare for the worst and always fear getting excited incase of disappointment).

Finding Myself Young - I'm teaching myself to breathe... am I losing myself or finding myself?

So, now that I'm at this point I seem to have been asking myself in the last week or so - does motherhood mean I've found myself or am I losing myself? What I mean is - am I going to completely lose my identity as Toni now, or, am I just taking on a new identity as mum? Can the two co-exist? Am I going to be able to act like a 20 something (ok very close to 30 something) woman or do I have to always be this responsible grown up person? Are my friends going to be the only ones who remember the person I was pre-baby?

I'm not for one second doubting that I will love being a mum, I'm just looking at it from a different perspective. It's like when you're a child you see your parents as these old, boring, out of touch strict people who you could never possibly relate to, like ever. Because you know parents are a totally different species and they have no idea how to have fun (or even act like real people). As you get older though you start seeing things from a different perspective. I think its once you've been through all your teenage angst and get to the point where you're settling down and realise that your parents would have gone through all of that at some stage too. Then, when your friends start having kids and they're your age you realise holy cow my parents were once my age AND they were my age when they became parents. They really were cool (ok maybe thats going a bit far), I mean normal at some point.

Is my baby ever going to realise that I was cool? Am I going to be this horrible unrelatable person to her for the next twenty years until finally one day she realises that yes, I was cool. I was and still am Toni, I just took a vacation into this weird world of motherhood for a few years. Is our real identity something we need to keep hidden from our children or is it just easy for them to overlook it and not notice? Will I completely cease to be me or will she just not notice all the subtle idiosyncrasies that belong to Toni instead of mum?

And finally, I wonder if our parents worried about the same things when they were embarking on parenthood?

Toni x