When you're feeling overwhelmed and stressed
and the world is on your shoulders,
and you can't shake the feeling off, you hide away,
Talk to me.
When you say you're busy,
too busy to see friends and family,
you have no plans you made them up,
Talk to me.
When you feel you're not good enough,
you compare yourself to others,
you become obsessed with social media and comparisons,
Talk to me.
When you feel tired, so tired,
when all you want to do is lie on the sofa,
you have no energy, you are drained,
Talk to me.
When you feel sad, confused,
nothing makes you happy,
you don't even know why you're sad,
Talk to me.
When you analyse yourself in the mirror,
you hate what you see,
you have no self confidence or self-esteem,
Talk to me.
When you find yourself in a daze,
you can't complete tasks,
you make endless lists but achieve nothing,
Talk to me.
When you lie awake at night,
desperate to go to sleep,
but your mind is in overdrive and you're hyper,
Talk to me.
When you feel you can't do your daily tasks,
everything is a struggle,
you can't cook, clean, read, do the school run,
Talk to me.
When you have a headache,
you feel sick, so sick,
your legs ache, your back aches,
Talk to me.
When you feel like the walls are closing in,
you feel trapped, you feel anxious,
you want to leave but you can't,
Talk to me.
When you decide you are worthless,
when you think that everyone would be better off without you,
when ending your life seems like a form of escape,
Talk to me.
I have been you, somedays I still am you,
most days I am a superhero,
once in a while I'm a superzero,
Talk to me.
Talking is a form of medicine,
it's a relief, it's offloading,
talk to anyone, people will listen.
Talk to me.
Everything will be ok.
3 comments
There's one symptom of Postnatal Depression (PND), that no one likes to talk about. One symptom so scary that you often wonder whether you have completely lost who you are. You become too ashamed to even mention it to anyone for fear of judgement and misunderstanding. You basically worry about being accused of being a terrible mother (or father). Perhaps you don't even realise it is a symptom of PND because no one has mentioned it to you. It's way too taboo. Let's talk about rage, the unspoken, scary symptom of PND.
There I am in the kitchen, it's 8.05am. Hubby is running around, already late for work but busy, trying to help me get the kids ready for the school run. He knows full well that some days , these normal, daily tasks are too overwhelming for me so he stays to make things easier but he needs to leave.
I haven't had breakfast, the kids are messing about with theirs, I realise I have work to do, emails to get out, washing to be done, food shopping to be done, the list is apparently endless. I can't possibly get any of this achieved by 8.45am before we need to leave. My phone starts ringing, my toddler throws a tantrum, I look at the time. I'm already talking faster, breathing quicker, blood pressure rising.
I usher my eldest to go and get dressed but she potters around, I attempt to make myself breakfast, I ignore the phone ringing and the dog mulling around my feet (why is he always in the way?), I start to panic. Then the baby throws all of her food on the floor. It comes quicker than you can imagine. The tension is fast and furious. My face gets redder and hotter. My body feels heavy and my legs feel weak. Stress and panic swirl around me like a tornado. I'm spinning and losing control. Then bam, enter the hurricane and storm.
I snap!! I snap badly. The rage is like nothing you can imagine and it's uncontrollable. I'm left screaming at anybody that can hear me. It's like as if the words are being dragged from my mouth and I can't stop them. I can't take them back. I shout, I scream, I want to throw things, smash things, no one ever listens to me!!!!
Then comes the guilt. I'm crying. Crying so much my head hurts. I feel sick, I can't see. I want to be left alone. I hate everyone and worst of all I hate myself. What have I become? I'm a shit mum. Everyone would be better off without me. I can't do this. I'm rubbish at it. Why am I so angry?
And that's what a rage episode looks like. They are unexpected and unwanted. They turn me into something no one can recognise and that is what is most frightening. My husband is frightened of me, my children are frightened of me and I am afraid of myself. I feel so ugly and so ashamed by the rage.
The smallest of things can set me off but looking back it's usually a build up of lots of minor triggers that lead to a huge explosion. It's also not always a massive outburst. I can just be nasty or angry, making snide comments or not wanting to do anything for anyone. Sometimes i'm a monster and sometimes i'm an alien.
The guilt I feel because of this symptom is ginormous. It weighs down on me and traps me. It makes my heart hurt. I love my family very much and wouldn't ever want to upset them and hurt their feelings yet it keeps happening again and again.
Its taken me a while to accept this as a symptom of PND. I honestly thought I was going mad. I thought I was alone and that no one would ever understand this side of me.
After recently, tragically losing a family member to a mental health illness, I have vowed to talk more about mental health on my blog. I will share with you the good, the bad and the damn right ugly. Nobody should feel alone. Nobody should feel that they can't speak or ask for help.
So come on let's talk about it. Have you ever suffered with anger or rage as part of your PND or mental health illness?
I haven't had breakfast, the kids are messing about with theirs, I realise I have work to do, emails to get out, washing to be done, food shopping to be done, the list is apparently endless. I can't possibly get any of this achieved by 8.45am before we need to leave. My phone starts ringing, my toddler throws a tantrum, I look at the time. I'm already talking faster, breathing quicker, blood pressure rising.
I usher my eldest to go and get dressed but she potters around, I attempt to make myself breakfast, I ignore the phone ringing and the dog mulling around my feet (why is he always in the way?), I start to panic. Then the baby throws all of her food on the floor. It comes quicker than you can imagine. The tension is fast and furious. My face gets redder and hotter. My body feels heavy and my legs feel weak. Stress and panic swirl around me like a tornado. I'm spinning and losing control. Then bam, enter the hurricane and storm.
I snap!! I snap badly. The rage is like nothing you can imagine and it's uncontrollable. I'm left screaming at anybody that can hear me. It's like as if the words are being dragged from my mouth and I can't stop them. I can't take them back. I shout, I scream, I want to throw things, smash things, no one ever listens to me!!!!
Then comes the guilt. I'm crying. Crying so much my head hurts. I feel sick, I can't see. I want to be left alone. I hate everyone and worst of all I hate myself. What have I become? I'm a shit mum. Everyone would be better off without me. I can't do this. I'm rubbish at it. Why am I so angry?
And that's what a rage episode looks like. They are unexpected and unwanted. They turn me into something no one can recognise and that is what is most frightening. My husband is frightened of me, my children are frightened of me and I am afraid of myself. I feel so ugly and so ashamed by the rage.
The smallest of things can set me off but looking back it's usually a build up of lots of minor triggers that lead to a huge explosion. It's also not always a massive outburst. I can just be nasty or angry, making snide comments or not wanting to do anything for anyone. Sometimes i'm a monster and sometimes i'm an alien.
The guilt I feel because of this symptom is ginormous. It weighs down on me and traps me. It makes my heart hurt. I love my family very much and wouldn't ever want to upset them and hurt their feelings yet it keeps happening again and again.
Its taken me a while to accept this as a symptom of PND. I honestly thought I was going mad. I thought I was alone and that no one would ever understand this side of me.
After recently, tragically losing a family member to a mental health illness, I have vowed to talk more about mental health on my blog. I will share with you the good, the bad and the damn right ugly. Nobody should feel alone. Nobody should feel that they can't speak or ask for help.
So come on let's talk about it. Have you ever suffered with anger or rage as part of your PND or mental health illness?
Every time I think of my Postnatal Depression (PND) journey, there is one thing that makes me very upset and that is how long I suffered before I was diagnosed. I don't blame this on anyone and I certainly don't blame my health visitor. In fact she was the one that picked up on my strange behaviour and finally got me to admit everything. I believe it was overlooked on my part due to my total lack of understanding of the mental illness.
Before I had a better understanding of PND I thought that depression presented itself in one way only, which was all doom and gloom. I thought you had to be crying constantly and basically locking yourself away. Don't get me wrong I do have those emotions and actions but actually my PND presents itself in many different forms.
I think this is such an important thing to comprehend when you are dealing with PND yourself or trying to help someone who is a sufferer. I couldn't recognise my PND as I was dealing with many different symptoms, many of which you may not necessarily associate with a mental health problem.
This is how my PND presents itself, this is PND for me:
- A low mood - This sometimes lasts an hour, sometimes a few hours, sometimes a day, sometimes a week and sometimes it's extremely prolonged and can last for weeks.
- Irritable - Every little problem bothers me and I snap very quickly.
- Feeling ill - When I am suffering I always have a headache or I feel sick.
- Feeling overwhelmed - The usual day to day tasks that I normally do become too much for me to handle.
- Lack of concentration - This is always a contradictory symptom as I usually go into overdrive when I have bad days and I create lists of tasks to myself of things I need to achieve which then leads me to have no concentration at all. I am quite zoned out when I am suffering. I am an aware of anything going on around me.
- Rage - This is one of the surprising symptoms. I become so angry. Everything and anything gets me angry. I have no tolerance for anything. When I was very bad I actually used to smash things to let out my rage.
- Scary thoughts - This one always frightens me. I constantly run through 'what if' scenarios and send myself into a bit of an emotional frenzy.
- Insomnia - When I am suffering, I don't sleep. If i'm not crying then I am running through lists in my mind etc and I just can't shut it off.
- Feeling Guilty - Mum guilt is everywhere in my life but when I am having a lapse with my PND, I feel guilty about everything. I always say I am a rubbish mum and I always feel like I've let my girls down.
- Comfort eating - My goodness can I put on some weight when I am going through this. I literally eat anything and everything in site to attempt to make myself feel better.
- Crying - Sometime I cry hysterically for hours on end. I lock myself away and scream.
- Laughter - This is a symptom I never would have recognised. Sometimes I am unusually happy, I am overly smily and I am constantly laughing. This is a charade. This is to cover up how I am really feeling. I become very silly and very excitable. It's very up and down behaviour.
- Workaholic - I get the sense of urgency to please anyone and everyone. I don't like the idea of failure and I like to look busy. I will take on way too many tasks and immerse myself in work, not wanting to let anybody down and especially not myself.
- Having cabin fever - I refuse invitations from friends and family. I shut myself away and make excuses not do to things.
- Lack of confidence - When I am suffering I lack confidence in every part of my life. That being my body, my mind, my personality, my clothing, my ability to parent etc.
- Exhaustion - I get so tired. My mind is heavy and my body is heavy.
- Noise Sensitivity - Suddenly noises all become very loud. Everything hurts my ears and it's all too much.
I'm still yet to overcome my mental illness, maybe I never will but I am now able to recognise my behaviours and symptoms and so is my husband. It's very hard to understand the behaviours of someone with PND when they can present in so many different ways. I guess it's important to recognise erratic behaviour and over compensating when they experience different emotions.
Some people will never understand how I can behave in these ways especially those that are closest to me and that is because they just aren't used to seeing me that way. Just know that if you have a friend or relative that suffers with PND that they are doing just that. They are suffering. This is not something they asked for. It may change them but if you look closely they are still there deep down. They just need that bit of extra support and patience.
"You don't look like someone with PND (postnatal depression)". I can't tell you how many times I've heard this said to me. I've heard it said to me so many times that quite often it has left me questioning myself and my diagnosis. This got me thinking. What does someone with PND look like? The answer is easy really, it could be anyone.
It could be the young mum, the older mum, the mum with the sunglasses, the mum crying, the mum who laughs all the time, the mum who is perfect, the mum with the bouncy blow dry, the mum not returning any of your calls, it could even be a dad. It could be the person that looks like they have everything. It could even be a celebrity. I wrote a poem called To the Mum with PND, You are not alone which also highlights who may be suffering. You can read it here, PND POEM.
The point i'm trying to make is that people think depression has a look. They expect people to look and act in a certain way. They expect is to be fairly obvious if someone is suffering with mental illness, when in reality, it's actually quite the opposite.
I've also had the following said to me on more that one occasion:
"But you always look so happy"
"You always go out and go places"
"You can't be depressed you've just be on holiday"
"You don't look depressed you're always smiling"
If you saw me on a daily basis you wouldn't know I suffer with PND. I've become excellent at hiding it. You see, people who suffer with PND wear a mask. They mask the reality of their feelings because of the shame they think it brings them. I don't want people to think I can't cope or that I struggle. I don't want people talking about me as if i'm some sort of terrible mother. I wouldn't want people to see me at my worst. My mask hides the feelings of guilt.
Don't get me wrong there are days when I am genuinely happy. I have so many good days and they outweigh the bad days now. Some days I am a Mother warrior when I get everything done. I manage to take the kids out, I tend to the house and I genuinely enjoy myself.
However, it's important to remember that not everybody that is depressed is crying. In fact most of them don't cry that often and they certainly don't cry 24/7. They actually may be smiling or laughing.
People with PND are able to perfect a facade. The facade enables sufferers to feel strong and powerful and makes them feel like they are fighting their illness. I may smile 24/7 around other people but you can't judge my mental health on that as you'll never know what pain my mind is putting me through behind my smile.
So to the people that have used the phrase "you don't look like someone with PND", what do you think of these people?
Every one of these pictures is someone that has suffered with PND. You wouldn't know it by looking at them would you?
Just remember it's not often those that you think would suffer that actually do.
It could be the young mum, the older mum, the mum with the sunglasses, the mum crying, the mum who laughs all the time, the mum who is perfect, the mum with the bouncy blow dry, the mum not returning any of your calls, it could even be a dad. It could be the person that looks like they have everything. It could even be a celebrity. I wrote a poem called To the Mum with PND, You are not alone which also highlights who may be suffering. You can read it here, PND POEM.
The point i'm trying to make is that people think depression has a look. They expect people to look and act in a certain way. They expect is to be fairly obvious if someone is suffering with mental illness, when in reality, it's actually quite the opposite.
I've also had the following said to me on more that one occasion:
"But you always look so happy"
"You always go out and go places"
"You can't be depressed you've just be on holiday"
"You don't look depressed you're always smiling"
If you saw me on a daily basis you wouldn't know I suffer with PND. I've become excellent at hiding it. You see, people who suffer with PND wear a mask. They mask the reality of their feelings because of the shame they think it brings them. I don't want people to think I can't cope or that I struggle. I don't want people talking about me as if i'm some sort of terrible mother. I wouldn't want people to see me at my worst. My mask hides the feelings of guilt.
Don't get me wrong there are days when I am genuinely happy. I have so many good days and they outweigh the bad days now. Some days I am a Mother warrior when I get everything done. I manage to take the kids out, I tend to the house and I genuinely enjoy myself.
However, it's important to remember that not everybody that is depressed is crying. In fact most of them don't cry that often and they certainly don't cry 24/7. They actually may be smiling or laughing.
People with PND are able to perfect a facade. The facade enables sufferers to feel strong and powerful and makes them feel like they are fighting their illness. I may smile 24/7 around other people but you can't judge my mental health on that as you'll never know what pain my mind is putting me through behind my smile.
So to the people that have used the phrase "you don't look like someone with PND", what do you think of these people?
Every one of these pictures is someone that has suffered with PND. You wouldn't know it by looking at them would you?
Just remember it's not often those that you think would suffer that actually do.
It's taken me a while to decide to write this post as I wasn't sure whether people would understand. There are so many body positive people around and I hate to admit it but I still can't get on board with loving my post baby body. In fact I hate it. I am the least body positive person you will find and when I see people loving their post baby shape and embracing their bodies, i'm jealous. I want to feel like that. So why can't I?
This is a question i've been asking myself for a long time. I see images on instagram of amazing mums embracing their shape, going to the gym, the healthy eating images, mums eating boxes of chocolates etc and they are all confident and happy with the way they look. However, when I take a picture I can honestly tell you I scrutinise it for about an hour. Millions of silly questions and thoughts pop in to my self doubted mind. Do I look fat in it? Oh my god look at my chin! My legs look massive. I look huge in that coat. I am never, ever wearing that again. Why can't I just look at the picture and be happy? Why do I sit there and tear myself apart like some deranged, hormonal, high school chick. I thought the days of worrying over how other people view me were left at the school gates 15 years ago.
It doesn't just stop at photos. We have a long mirror in our bedroom. Every time I walk past it, I stand there and analyse myself, from the front, side and back. Why do I keep doing that? Nothing will have changed in the couple of hours since I last checked. I'll get dressed in the morning (which by the way takes ages as i'll have spent the best part of half an hour finding something that covers my mum tum and jumping up and down to squeeze into my jeans) and then I stand there and criticise myself from top to bottom. My husband constantly tells me off about this and has threatened to remove the mirror as he's sick of seeing me body shame myself on a daily basis.
Here's how I view other mummies and their take on their post baby bodies. You either get the chai eating, smoothie drinking, in the gym 24/7 mummies or the I am embracing my curves and scars and my body is beautiful mummies. Why can I not be in either of these categories? So as a nearly 32 year old mum of 2, one naturally and one through caesarean I am the mummy who hates my stretch marks and scars, hates my curves and hates my extra weight gain. There i've said it and I feel better for saying it.
I've written this post to hopefully show other mums who feel like me that it is actually ok to say it. It is ok to say you know what, I feel and look like shit. I bet there are other mums out there who put on a front but deep down they feel like shit. I'm saying it's ok to say it as I've honestly come to the point where now I've said it out loud i'm going to start making a change to help me learn to love myself.
But back to the original part. Why haven't I been able to accept my post baby body? When I sit down and really think about why i'm so unhappy it's pretty clear that I had very unrealistic expectations of what I'd be like after having kids.
I'm not gonna lie, I expected to look like an instant milf after giving birth. I imagined the photos of me holding my newborn with a bouncy blow dry and glowing skin with make up on. I imagine waltzing out of the hospital, holding on to the car seat and owning the corridor like it was a catwalk. In reality the glow on my face was sweat, I had a nighty on from Primark with was a size 16 and something that my great nan would have worn back in the day and my outfit for leaving hospital resembled the tracksuit trend from the 90's. Don't even get me started on the walk. The only thing I was owning was a John Wayne impression. Not to worry, i'll be in the gym in no time and sipping coffees with my friends in my skinny jeans wearing my sunnies. Wrong!!
I wasn't expecting to still be in maternity jeans for months down the line or hideous over sized nursing clothes. This is not what I imagined. I was expecting to have the sass and confidence that matched Kim Kardashian. When we went to a wedding I was expecting look as elegant and graceful as Kate Middleton, truth be told I looked more like Mrs Blobby.
And that is where the problem lies. The expectation and the pressure that is put on us by the media and every day life to bounce back into shape and look as good as you did 9 months previously. Our cultures obsession with weight is draining. It makes me so angry that I've spent the best part of four years obsessing over something that is insignificant. I should be focusing on motherhood and setting an example to my girls. Do I want them to scrutinise themselves over their weight the way I do? Hell No!!! It would break my heart if I saw either of them analysing themselves in the mirror. It's time to change.
Nobody tells you how hard motherhood is going to be. How tiring it's going to be. How somedays you won't even be able to leave the house, let alone get dressed and look and feel a million dollars.
It's difficult for women. Nobody tells you hard motherhood is going to be, just like no one ever tells you that tampons can kill you thanks to Toxic Shock Syndrome or that you'll find hairs everywhere one day.
This is a question i've been asking myself for a long time. I see images on instagram of amazing mums embracing their shape, going to the gym, the healthy eating images, mums eating boxes of chocolates etc and they are all confident and happy with the way they look. However, when I take a picture I can honestly tell you I scrutinise it for about an hour. Millions of silly questions and thoughts pop in to my self doubted mind. Do I look fat in it? Oh my god look at my chin! My legs look massive. I look huge in that coat. I am never, ever wearing that again. Why can't I just look at the picture and be happy? Why do I sit there and tear myself apart like some deranged, hormonal, high school chick. I thought the days of worrying over how other people view me were left at the school gates 15 years ago.
It doesn't just stop at photos. We have a long mirror in our bedroom. Every time I walk past it, I stand there and analyse myself, from the front, side and back. Why do I keep doing that? Nothing will have changed in the couple of hours since I last checked. I'll get dressed in the morning (which by the way takes ages as i'll have spent the best part of half an hour finding something that covers my mum tum and jumping up and down to squeeze into my jeans) and then I stand there and criticise myself from top to bottom. My husband constantly tells me off about this and has threatened to remove the mirror as he's sick of seeing me body shame myself on a daily basis.
Here's how I view other mummies and their take on their post baby bodies. You either get the chai eating, smoothie drinking, in the gym 24/7 mummies or the I am embracing my curves and scars and my body is beautiful mummies. Why can I not be in either of these categories? So as a nearly 32 year old mum of 2, one naturally and one through caesarean I am the mummy who hates my stretch marks and scars, hates my curves and hates my extra weight gain. There i've said it and I feel better for saying it.
I've written this post to hopefully show other mums who feel like me that it is actually ok to say it. It is ok to say you know what, I feel and look like shit. I bet there are other mums out there who put on a front but deep down they feel like shit. I'm saying it's ok to say it as I've honestly come to the point where now I've said it out loud i'm going to start making a change to help me learn to love myself.
But back to the original part. Why haven't I been able to accept my post baby body? When I sit down and really think about why i'm so unhappy it's pretty clear that I had very unrealistic expectations of what I'd be like after having kids.
I'm not gonna lie, I expected to look like an instant milf after giving birth. I imagined the photos of me holding my newborn with a bouncy blow dry and glowing skin with make up on. I imagine waltzing out of the hospital, holding on to the car seat and owning the corridor like it was a catwalk. In reality the glow on my face was sweat, I had a nighty on from Primark with was a size 16 and something that my great nan would have worn back in the day and my outfit for leaving hospital resembled the tracksuit trend from the 90's. Don't even get me started on the walk. The only thing I was owning was a John Wayne impression. Not to worry, i'll be in the gym in no time and sipping coffees with my friends in my skinny jeans wearing my sunnies. Wrong!!
I wasn't expecting to still be in maternity jeans for months down the line or hideous over sized nursing clothes. This is not what I imagined. I was expecting to have the sass and confidence that matched Kim Kardashian. When we went to a wedding I was expecting look as elegant and graceful as Kate Middleton, truth be told I looked more like Mrs Blobby.
And that is where the problem lies. The expectation and the pressure that is put on us by the media and every day life to bounce back into shape and look as good as you did 9 months previously. Our cultures obsession with weight is draining. It makes me so angry that I've spent the best part of four years obsessing over something that is insignificant. I should be focusing on motherhood and setting an example to my girls. Do I want them to scrutinise themselves over their weight the way I do? Hell No!!! It would break my heart if I saw either of them analysing themselves in the mirror. It's time to change.
Nobody tells you how hard motherhood is going to be. How tiring it's going to be. How somedays you won't even be able to leave the house, let alone get dressed and look and feel a million dollars.
It's difficult for women. Nobody tells you hard motherhood is going to be, just like no one ever tells you that tampons can kill you thanks to Toxic Shock Syndrome or that you'll find hairs everywhere one day.
Don't get me wrong I love exercise and healthy eating but I should be doing that because I want to do it not because i'm hoping it'll make me some sort of size 6 queen.
It's going to take a while but eventually I will be a body positive mum. I will embrace my curves and I will find myself sexy again. I've just got to remember that very point. It will take time!!
I've got to stop being so hard on myself and realise that my truly amazing body not only grew, developed and looked after 2 babies, it then managed to safely bring them into the world. It has also never failed me during my years of motherhood. Ok there have been some blips and a couple of minor operations but it managed to feed the girls, get me up in the middle of the night, carry them when my arms were exhausted and keep me going when I was sleep deprived. Having a mummy body is a miracle really when you think about it! Mum bodies are awesome!
So there you have it. Four years down the line my journey to accepting my post baby body has just begun.
It's going to take a while but eventually I will be a body positive mum. I will embrace my curves and I will find myself sexy again. I've just got to remember that very point. It will take time!!
I've got to stop being so hard on myself and realise that my truly amazing body not only grew, developed and looked after 2 babies, it then managed to safely bring them into the world. It has also never failed me during my years of motherhood. Ok there have been some blips and a couple of minor operations but it managed to feed the girls, get me up in the middle of the night, carry them when my arms were exhausted and keep me going when I was sleep deprived. Having a mummy body is a miracle really when you think about it! Mum bodies are awesome!
So there you have it. Four years down the line my journey to accepting my post baby body has just begun.
As you may know, we have been in Australia for the first few months of Ophelia's life. This has meant many trips to the beach. As a breastfeeding mum this can be a bit of a task in more ways than one, from things such as dealing with exposure to tackling the extreme heat.
Here are my tips for breastfeeding on the beach:
1) Make a den
When it comes to breastfeeding I do it anywhere and everywhere in public but I always cover up. I found I felt very exposed on the beach so I set up a little hideaway retreat in the form of a pop up tent. This was my safe place when the beach was too busy. It was big enough for me to sit in, shaded and relatively cool. In my retreat I was able to feed with a top off or just a bikini top on without covering up.
If you have the space and spare hands take some small pillows with you to make the tent more comfy. However, with 2 small children we had enough to pack so I used bags to lean against and folded up towels for comfort.
When it comes to breastfeeding I do it anywhere and everywhere in public but I always cover up. I found I felt very exposed on the beach so I set up a little hideaway retreat in the form of a pop up tent. This was my safe place when the beach was too busy. It was big enough for me to sit in, shaded and relatively cool. In my retreat I was able to feed with a top off or just a bikini top on without covering up.
If you have the space and spare hands take some small pillows with you to make the tent more comfy. However, with 2 small children we had enough to pack so I used bags to lean against and folded up towels for comfort.
2) Wear a Kaftan or Sarong
These items can prove invaluable for feeding whilst sat on the beach. I would whip my kaftan off and use it to cover up whenever I was feeding outside of the tent. It was a fantastic alternative to a blanket as it was thin and wouldn't make Ophelia to hot.
These items can prove invaluable for feeding whilst sat on the beach. I would whip my kaftan off and use it to cover up whenever I was feeding outside of the tent. It was a fantastic alternative to a blanket as it was thin and wouldn't make Ophelia to hot.
3) Have an endless supply of water available
Water is so important whilst breastfeeding but even more so when you're feeding in temperatures that us as Brits are not normally used to. It's so easy to become dehydrated and over heated. I consistently drank water the whole time we were there.
Water is so important whilst breastfeeding but even more so when you're feeding in temperatures that us as Brits are not normally used to. It's so easy to become dehydrated and over heated. I consistently drank water the whole time we were there.
4) Take a fan or water spray
A device that has proven to be one of my favourite things is our water spray bottle which has a fan attached to it. Holding a baby against your chest makes it easy to get too hot whilst feeding at the best of times, let alone whilst battling with the heat at the beach. Both baby and yourself can get too hot and sticky.
I would spray it occasionally whilst feeding to cool us down as it would create a cold, mist effect. Eva also helped in that department which was great as she found it like a game. Nothing entertained her more than to think she was squirting mummy and her sister with water.
A device that has proven to be one of my favourite things is our water spray bottle which has a fan attached to it. Holding a baby against your chest makes it easy to get too hot whilst feeding at the best of times, let alone whilst battling with the heat at the beach. Both baby and yourself can get too hot and sticky.
I would spray it occasionally whilst feeding to cool us down as it would create a cold, mist effect. Eva also helped in that department which was great as she found it like a game. Nothing entertained her more than to think she was squirting mummy and her sister with water.
5) Brush the sand away
This may seem very obvious but I thought i'd mention it regardless. Give yourself a dusting off before you feed. Sand gets everywhere. One of its favourite hiding places is cleavage. It sticks to that area like glue. Before feeding brush yourself off so that your baby won't get any its mouth or eyes.
This may seem very obvious but I thought i'd mention it regardless. Give yourself a dusting off before you feed. Sand gets everywhere. One of its favourite hiding places is cleavage. It sticks to that area like glue. Before feeding brush yourself off so that your baby won't get any its mouth or eyes.
6) Get an umbrella
If you're lying or sitting on a beach towel or bed then make sure you're under an umbrella. This will protect you both from the sun and also help keep you covered up.
If you're lying or sitting on a beach towel or bed then make sure you're under an umbrella. This will protect you both from the sun and also help keep you covered up.
7) Check local customs
It obviously hasn't been a problem feeding in Australia on the beach but do double check local customs. In places like Dubai they like you to cover up your body etc so do keep that in mind.
It obviously hasn't been a problem feeding in Australia on the beach but do double check local customs. In places like Dubai they like you to cover up your body etc so do keep that in mind.
I hope this will help you on your travels. Have you got any other tips or tricks to add to this?
As you probably know last November I gave birth to our 2nd beautiful baby girl, Ophelia. From the outside most people would have viewed this as the happiest time of our lives. I was able to take beautiful photographs and share them with you. I'm sure people thought it looked great but things weren't all it seemed. I have always been very good at covering my feelings up and putting on a brave face.
This post is probably one I should never write and perhaps readers won't understand it without being in the situation themselves. You see expecting and having a baby is supposed to be a happy time and bring so much love, joy and happiness to everyone. It's exciting. Family are thrilled. Babies symbolise love and light. But sadly this wasn't the case for us.
This post is probably one I should never write and perhaps readers won't understand it without being in the situation themselves. You see expecting and having a baby is supposed to be a happy time and bring so much love, joy and happiness to everyone. It's exciting. Family are thrilled. Babies symbolise love and light. But sadly this wasn't the case for us.
I'll take you back to where it started, February 2015. I had been at a blogging event all day and couldn't stop weeing. I got home did a pregnancy test and it was postive. Hubby and I were ecstatic. This time around we decided we would tell our immediate family straight away. I was only 4 weeks but we decided that with it being our 2nd baby, I may need help and support from them if I was tired. I skyped my mum and sisters (they live in Australia), we told my dad and my in laws. They were all very happy. We were on cloud 9.
Then a few weeks later my mother in law became very ill. It was a rapid deteroritaton that came out of nowhere. For someone that fit and healthy to be that ill was quite a shock. I won't go into too many details out of respect for my husband's side of the family but the short of it was that she was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour. From the off we were told that there was going to be no happy outcome with the illness.
Everything was a waiting game. We didn't know how long she would survive. She kept fighting it and fighting it. She needed around the clock care and support but she was at her own home.
She eventually was admitted to a hospice in October. My due date was the 12th November. My husband had time off work to go there everyday. To cut a long story short. I had Ophelia on the 21st and she passed away 4 days later. If you read my blog post called My PostNatal Stay In Hospital, you will know I was stuck in there for over a week with an infection. Therefore, I was in hospital when she passed away.
I've had to write this post as a form of release as I honestly feel I need to talk to someone about all this. Perhaps counsilling will be the way forward.
I don't want to come across as selfish and please understand that this is not my personality. I don't need to be the centre of attention or anything like that but during my pregnancy and for the month after I had Ophelia, I have never felt so alone and scared in all my life. I was upset and depressed and I couldn't tell anyone as when I did it was all thrown back in my face. I tried to reach out to family members and my husband on many occasions but it was always brushed off.
You see last year was a big year for me too. Not only was I expecting our 2nd child but it was also my 30th birthday which I felt was an important one. That was all forgotten about too.
I struggled with the pregnancy. I work in an operating theatre so I was on my feet all day. I would then come home and look after Eva, who was 2 so always on the go and requiring attention. I was extremely tired. Nobody seemed to care especially my husband. His mind and attention was always with his mum.
Whenever I spoke to anyone about how I was feeling, telling them I was alone, struggling, tired and upset, I was always told to suck it up and get on with it. Even my own family did it to me. I was always told how could I moan and say I'm upset when my mother in law was ill etc.
I had 2 bleeds towards the end of the pregnancy which they put down to stress and not having any rest. On the 2 occasions I was admitted to hospital, I went alone. No husband by my side. Not a soul.
When I was having contractions my husband just left the house and spent most of the time at the hospice. He eventually came back and we went to the hospital. He didn't hold my hand. He didn't offer me any support. He was completely disinterested.
As you can imagine. When she passed away the loneliness escalated. I had to attend the funeral with a 1 week old baby. I'd had a cesarean. I'd just had a baby. I'd been in hospital for a week. No one was bothered. The sympathy cards were coming but no new baby cards.
In the end I decided I needed to be with my family and we booked a last minute trip to Australia on boxing day. Whilst here I made the decision with my husband to stay here for 3 months and he return home where he could grieve alone.
I hope I haven't come across as a horrible person. I'm really not. Having a baby should be a wonderful time but it was honestly the worst time ever for me. I cried pretty much every day during my pregnancy and in the weeks after.
I understand that it was a difficult time for my husband and his family. It was for everyone. But I was going through a lot too and I was alone. There were times when I didn't want the baby. I hated myself for even saying it but this is how everyone made me feel.
This time in Australia has allowed me to become a happier person again and has made me appreciate how lucky I am to have 2 beautiful, healthy girls.
I needed this time away from the upset back in the UK. I've now only got 2 weeks left here in Australia. I'm extremely anxious about my return home which is why I felt the need to writ this post and get a lot off my chest. I'm so worried that my life will be the way it was when I left. I'm worried I will be alone. I'm worried that no one will care or be interested.
Have you ever had anything like this happen to you?
It seems almost everyday there is some sort of ear bashing post about breastfeeding in public showing its face across social media. It's no wonder mummies shy away from feeding in public. Another reason lots of mums feel they can't breastfeed in public is being over exposed. I've never really worried about this but one thing I was eager to do after having Ophelia was to start wearing 'normal' clothes other than breastfeeding clothes.
I looked at my tops and shirts and was desperate to put them on. In the first month I couldn't put them on due to my big belly but I really wanted to feel back to normal and myself again. I was asked if I wanted to review the Breastvest. The breastvest is a vest that you can wear underneath any top and it sits just below your bra line. It was invented my breastfeeding mums and designed to give mummies the confidence they need to feed in public. It completely covers your belly.
The vest is available in sizes XS through to L. I managed to fit into a size S which I was pretty impressed with. You can buy it in the essential colours of black and white or there are limited edition colours available which are red, grey and blue.
What I liked about it:
I looked at my tops and shirts and was desperate to put them on. In the first month I couldn't put them on due to my big belly but I really wanted to feel back to normal and myself again. I was asked if I wanted to review the Breastvest. The breastvest is a vest that you can wear underneath any top and it sits just below your bra line. It was invented my breastfeeding mums and designed to give mummies the confidence they need to feed in public. It completely covers your belly.
The vest is available in sizes XS through to L. I managed to fit into a size S which I was pretty impressed with. You can buy it in the essential colours of black and white or there are limited edition colours available which are red, grey and blue.
What I liked about it:
- I was able to wear my normal clothes
- It covered my belly which let's face it, you really don't want to show that off after giving birth.
- It washes well
- The material is stretchy
- You couldn't see the outline of the vest underneath my normal clothes
- It was comfortable
What I didn't like about it:
- Whilst my belly remained covered I did feel that my breast was still exposed and that is something I am very self conscious of when in public
Overall, I do really like the vest. It's allowed me to get back to normality quickly and it has saved me money through not having to buy and stock pile a load of breastfeeding tops. I would like to see them design a vest that has a discreet feeding option around the breast. One that has a triangle shape so that only your nipple is exposed as opposed to your whole breast.
Have you heard of this vest before? If you breastfed, did exposure bother you?
Before Ophelia was born I knew I was going to breastfeed. I had breastfed Eva for 9 months and loved every minute of it. With Eva, I breastfed and also expressed so that her dad could give her a bottle once a day.
The pump has 2 different individual settings for vacuum and cycle. I think it's fab that you can adjust these individually as you may want to increase the speed but decrease the suction for example. This is ideal for when you are stimulating the breast and then you need to change the setting once the milk comes in. I have been using the pump with the soft massage insert which is very comfortable.
If you've breastfed, you're more than likely to have considered expressing milk. Expressing can be beneficial in more ways than one. You can use expressed milk so that you can have the freedom to go places and allow other people to care for your baby. It can be used if you have latching on problems. Expressing also helps to maintain and increase your milk supply. It is a great way for dads to start to develop a bond with their baby. You can also start building up a supply in your freezer so that when you start weaning your little one, you can use your milk with things such as cereals and porridge.
I was lucky enough to be asked if I would like to review the Calypso Double Plus Electric Breastpump made by Ardo. The pump has won lots of awards so I was looking forward to receiving it. When I was feeding Eva, I expressed a lot using a single pump so I was very keen to see the difference using a double pump.
What's in the box?
The box contains the breast pump unit, 3 different sized flanges to use, a bottle holder, a brush for cleaning, instruction manual and a mains adapter.
I found it very easy to setup and to be honest I didn't even have to read the manual. It seemed self explanatory to look at. The unit can be used by plugging into the mains or with batteries. I think this is a great feature as you can take the pump out with you if you are away from your baby for an extended period of time and your boobies end up engorged. I recently took it out with me to my works christmas party.
The pump has been made with 'vacuum seal' technology which provides a barrier against contamination.
I must admit that at first I was a bit worried about double pumping. For some reason I had in my head that it may be painful. I couldn't have been more wrong. It's very easy to do, pain free and the main benefit is that it is done a lot quicker. For someone who has a toddler and a newborn baby, this feature is invaluable to me. Time is precious in my house as i'm sure you can appreciate.
I've been using the pump now for over 6 weeks. I am really happy with it and would recommend it to anyone. I love the fact that it's a double pump or it can be used as a single pump. This makes the product much better value for money than others that are available. It gives you the flexibility that you need. I've used it many times in both capacities. When I first had Ophelia, I was using it as a double pump to relieve engorgement and to help with my milk supply. Once breastfeeding was established, I was using it as a single pump to express milk off for her dad to give her a bottle. When I don't have a lot of time, I double pump as I get twice as much milk in a short period of time.
I like the fact that it can be battery operated. As I mentioned earlier I took it on a night out with me. It's also very quiet. This was very helpful on my night out as I wanted to be as discreet as I could be. It's marketed as the quietest pump available and I have to say that it's definitely quieter than the previous breastpump I owned.
I'm really happy with the product. In fact it was one of the first things I packed in my suitcase to bring with me on my holiday to Australia. Head over to their website to view all the products they have on offer and to find out more information about the calypso pump, Ardo.
Have you used a breastpump before? Have you heard of this brand?
I've written about my labour and birth with Ophelia so my next installment is all about my post natal stay at the hospital.
On Saturday 21st November, I spent the rest of the day after giving birth to Ophelia just staring at her and feeling on top of the world (aside from the cesarean pain). I was feeling like most mothers should. I was happy, proud, just beaming with joy. My husband went and collected our older daughter Eva and brought her in to meet her new sister. We wanted her to be the first person to meet her. She loved her but didn't want a cuddle. I lay looking at my family with so much emotion at what I had achieved and I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have such a perfect family. Eva was unhappy when she realised I had to stay in hospital but I assured her I would be seeing her the next day when she would be coming to collect us to bring us home.
That night I was on a high care ward because I had a cesarean. There were 3 of us new mums and babies in there. When I had my observations checked I kept having a temperature. I didn't seem to bothered by it as I was so focused on my new daughter. I didn't get much sleep as I was getting used to looking after a newborn baby again and also as I was on a shared ward it was rather loud so I didn't get much rest even when Ophelia was sleeping. Not to worry, I thought. I'm only here for 1 night and I'll be back in my own comfy bed tommorow...
The next morning I woke up and received some rubbish news. After having our bloods taken both Ophelia and I were showing signs of an infection. They thought it was something that had been passed on before labour. I didn't mind too much as I thought we could be given antibiotics and be on our way back to our home. However, seeing as we both had to have IV antibiotics we then had to stay in hospital for 5 days. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The thought of staying in hospital for another 5 days was devestaing. All I wanted to do was go home. We were also moved from the ward we were on to another one which had 8 beds and they were always busy.
In the extra 5 days I was in hospital, I honestly thought I was starting to lose my mind. I was depressed. I cried all the time. I sat behind my curtain staring at the same things for what felt like an eternity. I managed to care for Ophelia in the way I should but I was desperately unhappy. If I had a visitor, I put on a brave face. I smiled, I laughed. Inside, I was screaming for help. One night, I was so upset and sleep deprived I considered walking out of the ward and never coming back. I got as far as the corridor doors. This wasn't because I didn't want Ophelia, I just didn't know what I was doing or thinking. The lack of sleep and unhappiness had completely messed with my head. This was not how family life was supposed to start.
I know you're probably reading this thinking 'well what's the big deal really? Lots of people go through this.' What I haven't mentioned is that I wasn't getting the support I needed and craved from my husband. My mother in law was terminally ill with a brain tumour and at the time she was in a hospice with days to live. He felt very torn as to where he should be. He spent most of his time at the hospice leaving me alone in the hospital. I had Ophelia on the Saturday and she passed away on the following Wednesday. She never got to meet Ophelia. What was worse is that I was stuck in the hospital at the time and I wasn't allowed to leave. It really was a terrible situation.
I know you're probably reading this thinking I sound completely selfish and i'm some sort of dragon but there's a lot more to it than me just needing my husband. My mother in law had been diagnosed and battled this illness since I had found out I was pregnant. I guess I felt the pregnancy was forgotten about by family members and I wasn't getting any support or help. My husband had associated the pregnancy and Ophelia with his mum's illness and was pushing us away.
I don't want to get into the nitty gritty of it all as this post is about my post natal stay. I felt the need to discuss what happened with my mother in law and my husband so that you could understand how horrible I felt during that stay. I was alone, frightened and scared for how things would pan out. What should have been one of the most precious times of my life turned out to be a complete nightmare. This is why I am determined to make up for lost time.
I left my labour story at the part where I'd just found out I had to have a cesarean. I'm not sure if you know but my day job is an operating department practitioner. This means that I work in an operating theatre. My job role is to 'scrub' in an operation whereby I assist the surgeon. One thing I've always found working in healthcare is that when it comes to us being patient's, we make the worst possible ones. I think this is because we know too much and can't shut off.
When I was transferred onto the operating table, it all felt very surreal. As the team introduced themselves to me, I felt like I was at the wrong side of the table and that I should be the one preparing all the instruments and doing my checks. I found it incredibly difficult to try and blank out what was happening. My consultant was also someone who I work with regularly. Even though I trust him with my life, it was extremely strange seeing him operating without me assisting him. I was incredibly lucky that he was actually the consultant on call the day I was in labour. A twist of fate in my favour perhaps.
Once the cesarean begin, I felt extremely uncomfortable. It wasn't that I felt any pain but it was an epidural anaesthetic so you can feel pushing and pulling etc. Again that didn't bother me but the feeling of discomfort came more from knowing exactly what they were doing so in a sense I felt the knife cut and every other action. I knew what they were doing step by step and I hated it.
Ophelia was delivered safely and I couldn't wait to have a cuddle. She weighed 7lb 11.5 and she had more hair than I expected. I felt a huge weight come off my shoulders and I cried tears of joy and relief. Hubby had lots of cuddles as I was shaking quite vigorously from the anaesthetic.
I was so engrossed in my new baby that I hadn't noticed how much time had passed. I suddenly tuned back in to the operation and was able to hear from the whispers that something was wrong. I hadn't felt them start stitching me up. My heart sank.
My consultant decided to be honest with me (as he knew he couldn't hide anything from me as I've got too much knowledge). They thought that I had a hole in my bladder and that my placenta was completely stuck down, they were struggling to get it out. It had pulled my bladder very high up. They performed a dye test to check for holes and thankfully it was fine (my urine was blue all day then lol). The placenta took a long time to come out and I must admit I found that slightly painful as they were really giving it a good pull. I could see the consultant and registrar putting all their effort in. It looked like a tug of war!
My scar is very small. Smaller than I ever imagined it would be. I was stitched up so I don't have to have any clips removed.
It's been 4 weeks since the delivery and I am now able to look at all the positives. For a while I felt quite upset about the birth because I really didn't like being a patient and I hated the whole experience. However, when I reflect on it now, I become very emotional. I am so overwhelmed and I feel very lucky and privileged to have had someone I know deliver my baby into the world. The fact that a consultant who I work with all the time delivered Ophelia, makes it all the more special.
I think the fact that I didn't write a birth plan has helped me to come to terms with my labour and birth. All I knew is that I wanted my baby in the safest way and at the time, a cesarean was needed.
The next part of my labour and birth story will be all about the aftermath. We had to stay in hospital for 6 days in total. Keep your eyes peeled for that installment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)