This week, we have the second birth story from the lovely Sumra, from Sweet Dreamer. I’m so happy to have been able to include both her birth stories in this series.
If you’ve already read my first born’s birth story, you’ll know that I had sort of an eventful, unexpectedly early delivery. The second time around, my husband and I were prepared with a plan of action, weeks before my due date, because we were anticipating a similar scenario. Well, Rabab Fatima did not come so quickly into this world.
Welcome to a new guest series! Exercise and a certain level of fitness helps to make pregnancy easier. As a lifelong dancer (hobby, not profession), I was always reasonably fit; but I danced for joy, not fitness, and fitness didn’t really preoccupy me much. During my pregnancy, walking helped to keep me mobile, and stretches helped me maintain the majority of my pre-pregnancy flexibility. But, once the SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction) set in, even walking became a struggle.
I love baby clothes. Who doesn’t? They are adorable, miniature things – just like our little babies. But there are some things about baby clothes that are just illogical to me. Here’s a list of seven of them!
If it’s hot enough not to wear shorts, it’s hot enough not to have sleeves. Right?
This week, we have a story from Jo, over at Pickle & Poppet. She experienced a lovely water birth with her second child, and couldn’t have been happier with how it went. Over to you, Jo!
I remember when I fell pregnant the first time, I didn’t really think too much about the labour. Who would? I was so excited about being pregnant, I didn’t want to think about the end until I absolutely had to. This was not the case when I fell pregnant with my second – I started planning straight away. I had to.
Firstly, she was due on the bank holiday weekend. We live about a twenty-five minute drive from the hospital, but with bank holiday, traffic it can be A LOT longer, as it is the main route to the coast. Secondly, my first had been three days of contractions and back to back, and the only thing to help was water. Unfortunately, being overweight with him, I was not allowed to be in the pool.
At the first midwife appointment for our daughter, we were told that all was fine and I was allowed to have midwife-led care. The midwife explained to me that this meant that I was able to birth in the midwife unit rather than the delivery suit, and suggested that we go for a tour to have a look around.
It was amazing! There were birthing pools and low lights with fairy lights around. It couldn’t have been more different from the delivery suite if it tried.
My plans have always been “deliver the baby safely”, but you have a picture in your head of what you would like. I had decided that I would love to be able to use the pool for pain relief. I wasn’t sure how I felt about delivering in the water and said I would go with the flow.
Yesterday – Tuesday, 2 January 2018 – was my first day back at work. After thirteen months away. It was both difficult and easy; sad and happy; challenging and liberating. To say I had mixed emotions is an understatement.
As the day drew nearer, I began to get very nervous about an array of things. Mostly, the thought of leaving my little man for entire days at a time (even though he’s being minded by his grandparents, rather than going to daycare); but, also, returning to a much-changed work environment, as well as wondering how I’d manage to fit everything I have to do into even less time. The list goes on, and you can read the rest in my post 10 reasons why I’m nervous about returning to work.
That morning, I woke a few minutes before my 5:45am alarm. I’d gone to bed as early as humanly possible (11pm, after getting as much ready as I could, to avoid rushing around in the morning), and we’d both fallen asleep again after J’s 1am comfort (boob) feed (for teething). I snoozed the alarm a couple of times, then breastfed him properly. He soon fell asleep again; I put him back in his cot, and started to get ready. I’d washed my hair the night before, so I showered and styled it with my “drying and straightening brush”, and put on a new dress.
This week, we meet Kelly, from and Jacob makes three. Kelly’s birth experience wasn’t anything like what she’d planned, but she maintains it was a positive experience nonetheless. I’m so glad she decided to share her story here.
I’m going to start this story with a disclaimer: There may be times when this birth story sounds anything but positive. I promise you, though, it was a good experience overall.
I was desperate to have a natural, non-medicated, as natural-as-possible birth. There were several reasons for that. Firstly, and most importantly, I am terrified of doctors, needles, surgery, hospitals … the list goes on. I was petrified of getting a serious birth injury if I needed an instrumental birth. I’d heard some horror stories and I didn’t know how I’d cope with recovering from surgery for a C-section or a severe cut/tear if an instrument was used. I’d read that epidurals made needing an assisted birth more likely, and my fear of that was greater than my fear of pain in labour. I don’t know how true that is, but it stuck in my head.
Welcome to the second entry in the Scrapbook Sunday series (which collects fun activities for kids/families from parents who’ve tried them with their kids, for others to explore). Today, Karen shares how to make your own cardboard box town!
Have you heard of Biggleton? The new ‘preschool live action series featuring a cast of five to seven year olds pretending to be grown-ups in an imaginary town’ first aired on CBeebies on 27 November 2017.
It turned out to be really well timed for us in The Mini Malpi household, as my eldest was off sick from school. A lot of screen time was had that day as he lay on the sofa feeling sorry for himself, the numerous trailers for Biggleton adding some much-needed excitement to his day.
As my first post-maternity-leave day at work looms before me, I find myself feeling nervous about going back. I’ll have been away for thirteen months when I walk into the office next Tuesday – one month of leave over the Christmas closure, plus twelve months of maternity leave. Despite having a new work wardrobe, my first car to make the commute easier, grandmothers to look after my little man, and other things working in my favour, it’s a hard prospect to face. I’m sure there are more that I’ve not yet thought of, but here are ten reasons I’m nervous about returning to work (in no particular order).
This week, we have Erin’s story. Erin blogs over at Merin and Co. – she and her husband, Michael, make up the Merin couple! The “Co.” includes their son, Heath, and their dog, Nala. This birth story is a bit of a saga, but I promise you, it’s an entertaining read! Thank you, Erin, for sharing your story here.
I read over on Ohh Hey Mama, Terri’s blog, that the internet is filled with far too many horror stories of birth and I totally agree. It’s either a horror story or an ethereal, out-of-body experience, where the lady simply breathes the baby out using the power of positive thought.
Neither of the above were true for me. I did not have a nightmare birth. I did not have the perfect birth. My son arrived healthy, noisily, and in a flash after 40 plus hours. To me, this can only be seen as positive.
I was so excited leading up to Christmas this year. My son was born in February, so this was his first Christmas. In my family, we celebrate on Christmas Eve with a turkey dinner that my mum cooks, followed by various activities (depending on who is in attendance that year), until it’s finally present time at midnight.
Present time was always earlier when young kids were there – there’d been three child eras that I’d been a part of, mine and my brothers’s, my younger cousins’, and my cousin’s children’s. Due to a falling out, the latter era didn’t last very long; as such, it’s been quite a while since we had any kids in the house on Christmas. My little man is the first grandchild on both sides, and the first baby in my family in ten years or so. It was bound to be special, and he got spoiled with lots of toys and clothes.
As this would be the first time we didn’t spend Christmas together, J’s daddy and I gave him his own little Christmas on the 23rd. He absolutely loved his baby tricycle, and has ridden it many times every day since.