This blog is five years old

This blog is five years old today. I wish I had a milestone card for that.

This blog is five years

Five years ago I sat in my kitchen and realised that something had to change. I’d spent much of the day in tears, re-living The School Boy’s birth. It was ten months on, he was a lovely warm, happy, sleeping baby with eyes so blue and a wide smile… and yet I still could not talk about what happened without some kind of cold dread pulling me down. A couple of months previously I’d been to my GP to ask for help and had been sent away again to ‘think about antidepressants’. I already knew I wasn’t depressed (PTSD is often misdiagnosed after birth) but I knew I needed something. An outlet. A way to work through what I was feeling. A way to re-gather my strength, lest I fall apart completely.

So i started this blog. I forget what was the final push. But here we are.

I wrote my son’s birth story and was amazed that people got in touch to say that it had moved them, they understood, I wasn’t alone. (more…)


An IUGR baby: the night before she arrived

This time last year I was sitting in an airless waiting room, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. A second set of steroid jabs were on the cards. An hour on the CTG, a pre-op appointment. Then home. Home, to spend a last night with my family of five. To take my toddler up to bed for the last time as the baby of the family. To read a bedtime story ahead of a huge change in their little lives.

It wasn’t to be.

MBrilliance in Blogging 2015: raising awareness of IUGR,, birth trauma and maternity matters~

There had been too many instances of reduced movements. Today’s CTG was not the same as all the others. Not quite so reassuring. They were not happy to send me home.

And all of a sudden, everything flashed before me. All those weeks of waiting, and seeing, such a waste. They should have taken her out at 34 weeks, like the original plan. They should have listened harder when I told them over, and over and over I don’t feel her moving!

They should have ended this pregnancy before it ended itself. (more…)


MAD blog awards: thank you in advance

Tomorrow Elsie and I will be travelling down to London for the MAD blog awards. And I want to say thank you in advance. No, I’m not being that presumptuous! I want to say thank you for different reasons.

To you, my readers. To my wonderful sponsor. To my baby girl. Campaigning for votes seems like such a long time ago!

We made it to the finals of the MAD blog awards~ all who read this little blog, and to all who comment or email me to tell me that what I’ve written means something to them: thank you. I hope you don’t mind me saying though, that I don’t write this blog for you. I write it for me. And in that respect, I need this blog.

My pregnancy with Elsie was really hard. If you read our journey, you know that already. But writing about each step in our rocky road taught me a few things. I have some wonderful friends. Both online and in real life. And you guys were there for me when I needed you. I cannot name you (you know who you are) as I am too afraid to miss someone by mistake. Just know that your support last year meant a lot, and I will always do my best to re-pay that to you. (more…)


Made to Measure: a perfect fit after all

One year ago, we stepped out onto a path unknown. Unchartered territory for us as parents to be. We’d done this all before. We knew the score. A growth scan was no big deal. We intended to humour the doctors for this one appointment, then opt to cancel the rest. We were so sure they would tell us that baby was small, but everything was fine. We were so sure this pregnancy, my last, would see it’s natural end around 42 weeks or so. We were so sure.

We were so wrong.

As expected, baby was small. We smiled knowingly and told the monographer that all our babies were small. And all were fine. A lot of fuss over nothing, but at least we were being checked. And in the waiting room, we chatted about names and and we talked about where we’d go for lunch. Normal things. My name was called and we trotted off, again so sure that all was fine.

Made to measure: a perfect fit, after all

It was a different doctor this time, and her demeanour was strange. She slapped my files down on the small table and asked me to sit on the bed. A student wanted to feel my tummy and listen to the heart beat, was that ok?

That was ok.

The student had shaking hands but she measured and it was recorded. The doctor though, was not happy with her measurement. She took her own, and summoned the student into the side room that connected ours with another consulting room. Thin walls. We heard her tell the student that the baby was ‘too small’ and she must make sure she measured from x to y for an accurate result.

We rolled our eyes. That damn measuring tape!

And so our patience was wearing thin. We wanted out of here. What we got instead, was a calendar full of appointments.

Baby is too small.

Yes, we know. We expected that.

We’ll try to get you to 34 weeks.

Hang on, what?

Made to measure: a perfect fit, after all then we’ll take baby out by c-section.

No, no. I want a VBAC.

You’ve had three sections?


You’re not having a VBAC! (laughing. Yes. Laughing)

I don’t want another section.

34 weeks is too early to induce you. And after three sections we can’t induce you safely. Baby is too small for a vaginal delivery.

34 weeks? (more…)


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