baby

Yesterday

I was sitting in a stuffy little white room, on a blue plasticky bed, my feet not touching the floor. I felt like a small child, like I should be swinging my legs and singing rather than sitting as still as I was, just waiting. It felt like an eternity before the doctor came back, clipboard in hand and white coat tails flying behind her. She flipped a few pages and asked me how I was feeling. My hand flew instinctively to my swollen belly, that tell tale reminder of the fact that I wasn’t a child with no cares in the world. I was an adult with scary decisions to make and the weight of worries resting on my shoulders forevermore.

I didn’t know how I was feeling. These appointments were blending into one now, the same four walls for hours at a time, the same rhythmic beeps and clicks and the same pounding fears stretching out between now and whenever they would finally decide enough is enough. (more…)

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Writing For a Cause

The first time I sat down to write a blog post I never once imagined it was anything more than a diary entry. For me. Not for you, or for your sister or your friend or anyone else. I didn’t even publish the first few posts because it was the act of writing them that mattered more than anything else. But like every other writer, I needed an audience and I soon discovered I needed a purpose too. Writing for a cause just kind of happened.

I started by writing about my son. My beautiful boy, who was ripped from my body in a blur of panic and white hot fear. Born into silence. Born into chaos. Born alone, while I slept. I needed to write. I needed to spew forth all the emotions and the confusion that was rattling around inside me and I needed to try and make sense of it somehow. Writing has always been my release, ever since I was a child, and it’s only i am not broken_ghostwritermummy.co.uknatural for me to need the prop during times of crisis.  (more…)

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‘Why I Love My Sister’… Celebrating #NationalSisterDay with Zapf BABY born

Yesterday was National Sisters Day so the girls and I have been celebrating! Being one of five girls, I always knew I wanted a big family, and it hasn’t really been a surprise that three of my four are girls too. Girls are the theme of the family in general and sometimes I feel a little sorry for Luka being the only boy- but he loves it really. The lovely people at Zapf Creations asked if they could send us a BABY born interactive sister doll to mark the occasion, so of course we said yes! I was also challenged to ask the girls to think about what being a sister means to them, what they love about it and what they maybe would change if they could…! So here it is. Our thoughts on the BABY born interactive sister doll, and the girls’ thoughts on ‘why I love my sister.’… celebrating #NationalSisterDay in style!

Why I Love My Sister... Celebrating #NationalSisterDay with Zapf BABY born- ghostwritermummy.co.uk

The doll

The girls were so excited when the doll arrived! Bella is a huge fan of dollies and at the moment she absolutely loves styling hair so she was over the moon! I carefully explained that this one was to share with her sister, and so far it’s worked out ok. They do tend to share well in general, and I think they like the idea of the doll being another sister to play with. They’ve named her Anna. (more…)

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Breastfeeding Helped Me After a Traumatic Birth

Breastfeeding Helped Me After a Traumatic Birth_ghostwritermummy.co.ukMy second baby was born amidst beeps and wires. A stranger’s hands plucked him from my body and thrust him into the world. A stranger’s hands held him close, and willed him to take a breath. A stranger’s hands were his first experience of human contact, in a cold and sterile operating theatre. His little blue body was taken away to have tubes inserted and his chest massaged. And he did it. He breathed. He turned pink. He screamed!

And all the while, I slept.

And when I awoke, there was this baby. He was wrapped in a blue blanket and though I knew that I was supposed to have a baby, I couldn’t help but wonder who he was. Why were they placing this baby on my chest and telling me to feed him? Why did my arms feel like lead? And why, oh why, did I want to run away and scream into the sky? (more…)

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