Eight months ago I was referred for and started CBT. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy. I didn’t know what to expect and I actually planned to blog my way through it, thinking that maybe my journey might help someone else in the same situation. I wasn’t ready though for the intensity of this one. I wasn’t prepared at all, and I can only apologise for the blanks over here. It’s been hard. Really hard. So what has CBT taught me?
I am resilient. I’ve had to be. I cannot crumble. I cannot allow my mind to tear apart or my body to crumple to the ground. I do not belong there. I am strong. I can have my bad days, my want to stay under the cover days. I can have my anxious days, my sweating palms on the steering wheel days. I can have my fat days, stupid days, useless days. I can have them, as long as I pick myself up again afterwards. And I always do. (more…)
One thing that always amazes me as a parent is the array of quirks and talents that my children have. I never in a million years imagined a daughter playing defence in the local girl’s football team, or another showing such a flair for ballet and dance. Likewise, I have no idea where my son gets his artistic flair- it certainly isn’t from me! That boy will gladly spend hours with pens, pencils and crayons, drawing, colouring and creating- and his work is absolutely stunning! We were recently sent a few bits and pieces from the Bic kids range and I asked Luka to get busy testing them out for me.
As you can see, he wasted no time creating a few masterpieces! (more…)
Dear Motherhood… I love you. I really do. I love hearing my name being called when the house is silent and a little person has woken, thinking of me- ME!- before anything or anyone else. I love that I can hold their little bodies against mine and literally feel their heart begin to slow, to drop into rhythm with my own. I love that their heads fit perfectly into that little nook between my shoulder and my chin, so that they can nestle there for cuddles no matter how old or how big they are getting. I love that. I love you. But I need to tell you that sometimes I hate you too.
Sometimes you make me lonely. Back when my tummy was huge and my circle of friends was tiny, you took advantage of me. You swamped me with hormones, made me believe I was invincible. Made me think that I didn’t need anybody. Fooled me into thinking that all I needed in the world was my baby, and that was it. And for a long time, I took you at your word. I was that ‘super mum’ I’d dreamt of being, and you made it so easy for me first time around. It seemed so natural to put a baby to my breast and to hold her forever in a haze of warmth and love and utter contentment. It seemed so natural to think only of my baby and never of myself. It seemed so natural to want to do it again. You were so good for me. (more…)
Recently Mumsnet launched their Aftercare Not Afterthought campaign, focusing on the need for improvements in postnatal care for women in England. Regular readers will know that campaigning for improvements to maternity services has long been my passion, and hopefully you also know that it has never been about attacking health care workers. Please understand that. It is about making changes, making improvements and inspiring better conditions for all. For women and families. For midwives. For babies. The Mumsnet campaign is important because it looks at an area many of us tend to gloss over when it comes to the business of having a baby. Pregnancy and birth are, of course, central to maternity services, but lets not forget that what happens in the first few days after birth is critical when it comes to maternal mental health and wellbeing, This is my story. This is why we need #betterpostnatalcare.
He was born at 6.45 on a frosty December evening, just six minutes after the surgeon put his knife to my skin. He was taken away, forced to breathe and urged to scream. He was cleaned, he was dressed, he was wrapped in a blanket. When I woke up, he was in his father’s arms and a complete stranger to me. This was surely NOT the baby I had carried for 41 weeks and 2 days. This was NOT the baby I had felt kick and roll and turn through all those weeks. This was NOT what I had imagined at all. And yet it was my reality. (more…)