For someone who thought she’d researched everything there was to know about becoming a new mum, I didn’t prepare for losing the ability to leave the house when I pleased. No milk, oh sure I’ll pop to the shop two minutes from the house. Making plans now I’m definitley an ‘ish’ person. Lunchish. Twoish. It could be before, on time or half hour late – that’s the thrill of it. But what does save me a lot of time is having a good, decent sized changing bag ready for the days adventures. Being able to actually leave when you and baby are ready rather than dashing back and forth for toys and nappies and oh dear me where’s the wipes. They’re all packed neatly away in my Lusso Babies bag. Including my own things, because nothing worse than fighting with your handbag and a pram while on the bus and running over Doris’ feet while your elbow is in Ben’s face. With extra zip compartments for your own cash, mobile phone, bank cards it’s so easy to keep all in one place. The bag includes inside pockets for bibs, insualted for your bottles hats, gloves or whatever you please which you can then unzip without rummaging inside, making those changes and feeds easier!
You have a changing mat INCLUDED too.
My changing bag essentials are:
- Plenty of Size 3 nappies
- Baby wipes
- Nappy bags
- Anti Bacterial gel
- Change of clothing x 2
- An extra jumper or cardigan
- Hat and gloves unless worn
- Books and toys (usually his rattle)
- Bibs and Muslins
- Bottles in insulate bags
- Tin of formula for longer trips
- Teething necklace/ring/toy
Plus, Lusso bags are waterproof (I unfortunately experienced this first hand yesterday!) with cushioned straps. They have an attachment for the stroller too if this is preferred. The black and gold is a perfect colour combination; stylish and comfortable. For £32.99 you can order your own through Amazon. I love mine, it means I get to leave on time. Ish.
So, I ran in to the hospital, throwing up for all to see, a few of the orderlies started arguing with caretaker about who should take me down to the ward while an ED doctor kindly wheeled around a wheelchair for me. Upon arrival at the maternity suite (where, I must add I had planned a pool birth with a playlist) I begged the nearest midwife for an epidural – “we’ll check you over first” and off I went to be muppeted and was told I was 9cm (omfg) and it was too late for pool or any pain relief. It’s hard to re-live the pain now, but I know how much pain it caused me, does that make sense? I wanted to know everything that could go wrong so I could prevent it but I had not thought about this. I was almost fully dialated, does this mean he’ll be here very soon? ahahahaha – no. I swear the midwives were bored of me and my labor. I was pushing and pushing in silence for 15 hours before they decided we just weren’t getting any where. No pain relief and no baby. I remember saying I wanted to go home and try again tomorrow. I shouted at the midwife because it was nothing like One Born. I was trying I really was. I had a few trainees in the room too and was being pointed out by lead midwife using my foof like an OHP (OVERHEAD PROJECTOR) ‘she’s got a lovely purple line’ I still don’t know what purple line they mean.
Off I went again to another room where there were at least 10 staff all crowding round me or off in corner of a room pointing at me. I was checked once more and Quinn was stuck, I had to go off for assisted delivery. I remember crying (in between squealing like a pig while I was manhandled) and had one surgeon asking me to sign a waiver, three others dressing me and my boyfriend and Mum holding a hand each. This was last thing I wanted but the promise of seeing my boy in the next hour was worth it…
It can be both sad and amazing watching your baby grow and develop. I don’t feel sad that he isn’t small anymore (was he ever?) I’m just sad that he’ll no longer do certain things for the first time. His first smile after I changed him, his first laugh as I spoke to him in a cockney accent for no reason at all or most recently holding and shaking a rattle.
Quinn is chewing pretty much e v e r y t h i n g at the moment and he is dribbling like no tomorrow so been advised teething is on it’s merry way. It’s hard to find suitable teething products that work for your child. Before he started showing signs I wanted to try various products to find what worked, necklaces, ring, Sophie ect. I recently teamed with the lovely Vic at @littlegnashers and her design your own teething necklace. Her products are BPA Silcone-free and made with organic wood. She offers variety of colours and shapes (and bangles!) so that your necklace can compliment your own style. Quinn’s other habit is grabbing my hair and this necklace prevents that. He now reaches up for a suckle which is so much better than grabbing my baby hairs.
I’ll be ordering one of her donut necklaces next for my collection! Be sure to check out her page, designs and create your own necklace perfect for both the style of mama and the needs of your little one.
I’ve created this blog a little late to discuss my pregnancy but to summarise it was uncomfortable and gross. I somehow didn’t think that growing a baby would weigh so much on my (former) petite frame. At 5ft 1 and 8 stone my body stretched and pained and a little human made himself cosy in my womb. Mad isn’t it? I gained a whopping 4 stone! Most of that was the two chocolate bars a night, whole pack of biscuits and two lunches but hey, I was pregnant and it’d come off right? Poor naive past Rebecca.
Anyway, labor day came on 12th September at just gone midnight. I had a sense it was coming bit after a few false alarms I decided I wasn’t going to say anything out loud so not to jinx it. My plug had gone, we’d been for a long walk and my boyfriend was just massaging me when my waters broke. Wow, so. much. water. It was like a mains pipe had burst. We rang the hospital, rang our lift and off we went and off we went home just as quickly. It was my first so real labor will take days to start. Nope, Quinn was on his way. I remember having horrible pains across my back, getting regular and regular but hospital told me it’d be fine and to have a bath (which I did and vommed in, grim right?) Eventually after spewing for 5 hours we headed back in. Of course it’d be 7am and rush hour traffic and I’d be passing out in the back of the taxi because of the pain and of course I was 9cm and couldn’t have pain relief . I remember running into A&E throwing up everywhere while a bunch of strangers stared over at this mess of a woman in her boyfriends joggers, wet hair and vomit stained dressing gown. Just your standard Wednesday morning in Birmingham I guess…
I haven’t blogged as often as I thought I would. At this stage I’m just writing to myself, for myself, addressing myself like I’m reading this for the first time. I think I’ve been away from blogging/writing in general for far too long. Plus I feel a bit of pressure, a bit of worry ‘of course she’s a blogger’, for some reason I’ve started to care so much about what others think of me.
Long story short, my beautiful baby boy was born 12th September after a traumatic, dramatic birth which threw my whole plan out the window and weighed a hefty 8lb 4oz. I was cut. I tore. I had salad tongs all up in me and I’m still recovering 11 weeks on.
Back to emotions.
Now having fought anxiety as a general for the past few years, I’ve been and still am worried about developing PPD or PPP, mostly because the health visitor told me I’d be a likely target with my anxiety. Cheers. I’ve had the baby blues, I’ve had anxiety over safety of my boy, whether people like me, wondering why I was losing so many followers – were old friends slagging me off? Was I an office joke? Why do I care? Is it because I try so hard, or not hard enough? It’s harder now I have a child because free time is a thing of the past, and I’m fine with that. I find I have to hide my emotions from anyone because I worry they’ll label me with PND and I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel ashamed to admit that some days I cry and that feel lonely sometimes (most days) but I have a new best friend who I’m raising to speak up and speak out about any worries he has. I haven’t made much of an effort with Mum groups (honestly there doesn’t seem to be any nearby), I used MUSH app and found it a little cringe. I want to make new friends but am I too old now?
But anyway, I’m currently on waiting list for CBT for my Pure O and Health Anxiety through our wonderful NHS and as always I’ll be as honest and open about my journey. If one person reads this and can relate, that’s enough for me. I remember finding so much relief in finding someone else like me so to anyone reading, my inbox is always open.