‘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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Maybe He Was Happy After All

One of the things that has always haunted me since my son’s birth and the first, very difficult, years of his life is the guilt. Guilt over what I should have done differently. Guilt over the way I found it so hard to be his mum. Guilt over the things he missed out on, because I was such a mess. My memories of the first year of his life are dark, almost shrouded in shadows of fear and despair. I don’t remember smiling. I don’t remember him smiling. I don’t remember baby giggles or first smiles or excited clapping. I don’t remember anything but sadness. I remember he cried a lot. I cried a lot too. I remember he rarely slept. I slept even less. I remember he rejected me constantly in favour of daddy. But I rejected him too.

Maybe he was happy after all_ghostwritermummy.co.ukAnd then recently we came across some long forgotten home movies, shot in the weeks before and after he was born. My first instinct was to shut them down, turn the TV off and hide away from the horrible reality of what I was like back then. I didn’t want to see that woman, pretending to be a mother. I knew I’d see the truth in her eyes, and I was terrified of seeing that blank nothingness that filled my days back then. I couldn’t- shouldn’t- watch, and yet I was impelled to do just that. (more…)

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What Has CBT Taught Me?

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…)

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