#mumbloggers

Firstly, a massive thank you to everyone that has read my first post! Your messages and comments have been overwhelming and you will never know how much it means to me to know that you all care enough to read our story - you guys are friggin amazing!! And I am so pleased to see that what I am doing seems to be helping or comforting others in some sort of way.

SO - last time I took you through Adas birth and getting her home. I touched very very briefly on the stressful time we had before Ada came off oxygen so I want to give you a run down on that. As traumatic as Adas entrance into the world was, life didn’t seem to get much easier for us and I think it almost completely fried my brain, but hey, we’re all crazy in one way or another right?!

Going back to KL hospital was an exstremely hard thing for me. The memories of what had happened there were still very fresh and very raw. Ultimately though, if it hadn’t of been for the team of people that initially worked on her, she wouldn’t be here today. So I sucked it up, put on my big girl pants and was ready to give it another chance. 

There was definitely a big difference to Norwich, mainly I would say communication issues that I’m hoping lessons have been learnt from now. From going through this I have realised that parents really need to be included and told what is happening every step of the way, something which I think can easily be overlooked. When your Childs life is in the hands of someone else you NEED to know what is happening. 

I don’t want to dwell too much on the things that were done wrong once we returned but it was a struggle and no parent should have to feel like they are battling with the providers of your Childs care - my advice would be to stand your ground, be strong, ask as many questions as you want and make sure you are happy with the answers and information given. 

I also think its important to remember that not all people take the same pride and care in their job as others do, so we always tried to make a point of thanking the people that went the extra mile for us. 

On the day that we were finally able to take Ada home we were not allowed to do so until she had undergone an MRI scan on her brain, we were told this was just routine. There wasn’t much explanation as to why. Instantly you think to yourself ‘omg, whats wrong?’ ‘Is there something wrong with her brain’ ‘is this routine or are they hiding something from me’ After doing research and asking questions, it is a routine thing to happen after a baby has been starved of oxygen at birth. Thankfully with Ada there was no signs of damage to her brain in the initial overview and this was then backed up by a specialist team at Nottingham (you still can’t stop your brain from thinking ‘what if?’ Whilst waiting to get those results back). After this she then had to have blood tests and a scan on her liver due to certain enzymes not being at an appropriate level. Without sounding thick, I didn’t even know what that meant and my head was just not processing anything properly. The information given to us on what would happen if it didn’t sort itself out was also very patchy. 

Now taking a new born home on oxygen is bloody tough, you find yourself confined to your bedroom or to the lounge, the rooms where we had the oxygen canisters. And you feel very restricted and trapped. So much so that I pretty much only went to my mum and dads or to Tesco if I was feeling super brave. Trying to get a baby out of the car is hard enough when you’ve never done it before, let alone having a back pack with oxygen in it too. Personally we felt that we couldn’t travel up north to see Nathans family as it would be too hard, so unfortunately people had to miss out. Trying to run a house when confined to those two rooms is very hard, that whole sleep whilst the baby sleeps is not even a real thing! When Ada was sleeping I wanted to do my washing, clean up, eat something or even just sit outside and have a coffee. Looking back, I wish I had relaxed a bit more and just thought fuck it! Those jobs were not going to please anyone but myself. Being easier on myself after having a c section would probably of been a better option and I shouldn’t of pushed myself to do so much when it was sometimes really hard to do so. Thankfully Nathan was a good team mate and I have lovely family and friends who all tried to keep me sane and help as much as possible in the process.

In order to assess how Ada was coping and trying to wean her off oxygen it meant having weekly 24hr assessments on an oxygen monitor at home. If you haven’t ever had any experience with one of these its a clever, annoying as shit, little machine that shows her oxygen saturation levels via a sensor on her foot. If they drop below 90 it makes the loudest most annoying bleep you’ve ever heard…great when you’ve just got her to sleep and shes moved and knocked her sensor off 🙄. They are used a lot on premature babies, however, Ada was a full term, strong bruiser of a baby who really enjoyed throwing her feet around and getting into massive strops! (I have absolutely no idea where she gets her attitude from?!) It soon became apparent that trying to get accurate readings from the machine with the amount of movement she was making was going to be hard. The machine would go back, data would be downloaded and the readings were not accurate enough due to movement. It felt like a constant ACCESS DENIED. Back to stage 1, which is really hard on your mental state and emotions when you are desperate to get your baby better. This would mean we would have to repeat the 24hr process and her oxygen level couldn’t be reduced, even though as her parents we knew she was ok and capable. I was left with no choice but to provide a written documentation of EVERY movement that made her sensor drop throughout the 24hr period, sometimes meaning I wouldn’t sleep just to be able to prove that she was doing well. We’re talking like mental person sending in four A4 pages of movements! This went on for weeks, the longer it went on, the stronger Ada was getting and the harder it was to get the readings. At the time she was also struggling with silent reflux which seemed to play up especially for us on the days she had her monitor on - thank god we have now found infant gaviscon!! 

As well as trying to cope with the oxygen there was a lot of different appointments at home, the hospital and doctors. Blood test for her liver enzymes again, health visitor, collecting oxygen monitor, hip scan, monitor again, physio, dropping monitor off, monitor again, dropping it off, another blood test, monitor again, health visitor, monitor again, immunisations, monitor again, physio, monitor again, consultant appointment, blood test, another hip scan, more immunisations, monitor again and physio - you get my drift and I’ve probably missed some out! Whilst all of these appointments were happening I was then having to chase for answers and information on the outcomes of all of these as the communication was very poor. But if you ask enough questions and make enough phone calls, eventually someone will answer you and you will find out what you need to know. Personally I don’t think it should have to be like that and it makes the situation a million times more stressful. But I do understand that staffing levels don’t always allow you to be the main concern and if your out of sight you can often be out of mind. 

Gradually throughout all of this and my crazy note writing Ada was weaned down off her oxygen one step at a time, then it was stopped in the daytime so she only had to go on it at night. 

Finally on the 27th of September we got the call that I had been longing to get! Adas consultant was happy for us to turn her oxygen off, completely! No messing around at night, no more changing plasters and making her face sore (making you feel like the worst person in the world), no more fighting to put her cannula up her nose and no more sleepless stressful nights with a monitor bleeping in your ear! I cried and then rang Nathan and cried a bit more, then I probably rang anyone else in my phone book that would answer, and you guessed it, cried some more. For once throughout this they were tears of happiness and relief. She had finally done it, our miracle baby had stuck her fingers up to the world and smashed it! In the words of the king that is George Michael ‘You got to have faith’ 😉 

Now, our only reason to go to the hospital is for extra immunisations against bronchiolitis, unpleasant, but better than her being hospitalised again or poorly. And for routine check ups with her consultant which will happen until Ada is 2. 

Deep breath for this part. 

The effect that this has had on me has been unreal, and although Ada is fighting fit it still isn’t easy. I was always quite ignorant to issues involving mental health and was one of those ‘just get on with it’ people. I’ve now realised that sometimes this just isn’t possible. When something in your life has been so traumatic and so stressful it can be really hard to deal with and process, my main concern was Ada and to worry about me later. It is also very easy for people to say ‘she’s fine now so don’t worry’ but you do (please don’t take offence if you have said this to me!).

Hiding your feelings and pretending everything is ok is not healthy for anyone, but to seek help was not something I was prepared to do until recently. I am by no means crazy, or a manic depressant but I do have my bad days. Days when things get to me and the stress takes over, flash backs, not being able to sleep because my brain won’t switch off, worrying that something will go wrong, being well and truly put off from having any more children, having to have full control of all situations, and for weeks, I fully blamed myself for what happened to Ada and believed that I should of known something was wrong and prevented the whole situation. I have felt in the past like I am not good enough, like I’m doing a shit job and like I can’t cope. I have struggled to speak about how I feel as I was worried I would be judged or people would think I was a shit mum or that I couldn’t look after Ada properly. I have also pushed help away as I feel compelled to be some sort of ‘super mum’ and that no one else should be doing my job. 

I still cannot talk about what happened without crying, and there isn’t a day go by when I don’t relive it at some point. I constantly look to see if Ada is developing as she should and is there any signs that something isn’t right, when I should just enjoy every moment. Living with me is probably a nightmare, Soz Nath, Mum and Dad - cheers for putting up with me 😘 Somedays I will snap at the smallest thing and overreact, whereas another day that same thing wouldn’t bother me in the slightest. 

I am a very private person when it comes to my feelings and I have always thought to show people the venerable side of me would make me seem weak, when in fact it does the opposite. From doing this and the responses I’ve had I now realise just how important it is to talk out and show everyone the old saying of ‘It’s ok not to be ok’. To write this down and tell you all what has happened is unbelievably difficult, yet very therapeutic and I strongly believe that if more people were to speak out about how they feel and the effect it has, then it wouldn’t be such a taboo subject. Because it most definitely shouldn’t be and anyone who says they haven’t had a full scale meltdown at some point is most probably lying to you. 

Ok, so might as well of just posted a naked picture of myself with the caption ‘HERE I AM’ after all that, but thats probably about as honest as you will find me. 

I knew I wanted children, hell, I thought I wanted a football team of them! Nathan on the other hand, didn’t think he would ever have a girlfriend, didn’t think he would ever fall in love, didn’t think he would ever move away from home (let alone to Norfolk), and definitely hadn’t even thought about kids. 

Me and Nathan met in Australia, one of my favourite places with the best memories! I was at a stage in my life where I didn’t want a boyfriend, I was happy with myself and content to be just me. Then BOOM, like a sack of shit, Nathan comes along (not that he’s a sack of shit but you know what I mean).

My first opinion of Nathan on a night out was ‘what a wanker!’ ‘Look at him, so arrogant’ Then I found myself outside with no one to speak to but him, instantly I thought ‘wow, you bitch, he’s actually nice!’ ‘That arrogant look is just his face!’ (Soz Nath) We got on like a house on fire, laughed and chatted most of the night  and then it came to the point that left me speechless…a hard task if you know me. He said mid conversation ‘I’ve got to stop talking to you else I’m gonna fall in love with you’ And that was it, he was gone! LIKE WTF!!!! Thinking about it now, how many girls you used that line on Nath? haha 

Now I was a bit unlucky in love previously and my dad said to me once ‘When you find the right one, you’ll know’. I thought that was bullshit and that Robbie P was living in some sort of fairy tale world. 

I woke up and couldn’t stop thinking that I had to to speak to him and see him again, problem was, I only knew his name was Nathan and that he lived in a house down the road. Should I just rock up there? Absolutely fucking not. So what did I do…trusty old Tinder! There was probably only about 40 people live in the area so it couldn’t be that hard to find him. I set the location to the lowest possible and got to work (yes I am a nutter!!) But I found him, swiped right and it was a match, slid into his DMs and the rest was history. With in about 2 weeks he had moved in and we started our relationship on that little banana farm in the middle of nowhere. We became best friends, I was due to come home to England but decided I had to give this a go, I went back to Oz and started my 2nd year visa, best decision I’ve ever made. We travelled some more together, made some amazing memories and decided it was time to come home to England and work towards our future.

 I remember asking him once if he wanted kids…he told me he’d never thought about it, maybe one day but maybe not. I think we were probably about 6 months into our relationship at this point, why he didn’t run a mile at my physco questions then I will never know! 🔪Maybe he knew I was the one….maybe he’s just too laid back to care! At that point I told him I could see us together for the rest of our lives, and if it was out of the question then that was going to be a big problem for me. I think he called me a nutter and maybe a few other words, but we’re still together so he must of seen something for us - even if he’s not very good with words!

Once we moved home I always did the big hint drops of babies and engagement and he would just say ‘Maybe one day’ then he told me the more times I spoke about marriage the longer it would take him to ask me…it did the trick and I stopped asking, well, stopped asking as much anyway.

So I found myself, 25 years old and in a seriously happy relationship with my best friend. It seemed like everyone around me was getting pregnant or getting engaged. I was jealous! As selfish as that sounds I really wanted that to be me, I’m sure I’m not alone in this and I reckon a lot of people must feel like this at some point in their life. Id been on the pill since 16/17 and had all the thoughts of ‘how long will it take for this to come out of my system?’ and ‘Can I even get pregnant’. 

Id got to that stage of GIMME A BABY!! 

So in true me style, I had a melt down, cried a little bit and told Nath how I felt. Then in true Nathan style he simply said ‘Well, your not gonna get pregnant if you don’t stop taking your pill are you!’ 

That was it, we were officially trying for a fricken baby and I felt like I was going to combust with excitement! Now before trying for a baby me and Nath simply thought, if your not using any contraception and your having sex, your just gonna get pregnant, right? Little did we know about that fertile window. After month one of trying and not getting pregnant (very impatient I know), I got myself a handy little app and turned into some sort of crazy sex planner. If that app was green, we were doing it, and if it wasn’t, well maybe we should just incase. Poor Nath didn’t know what had hit him! I was recording periods, when we had sex, my moods, the lot! I think I must of done about 10 pregnancy tests in this time, I’m so impatient I just had to keep checking. Turns out it happened pretty quickly! We started trying at the end of August and by October I was preggers! I just had a ‘feeling’ now I’m not sure if everyone feels this when they are pregnant but I knew I was, I was convinced. We bought a test and I was itching to get home and do it. 

*Weeing commenced* It was one of those digital clear blue ones, I just sat there watching this little egg timer on the screen and it was too much, it was taking forever, I couldn’t cope sitting there so walked away and left it to develop. As I came back and bent down to pick it up, it pinged up on the screen ‘PREGNANT’ I could not fucking believe it! Naturally, I burst into tear, ran down stairs with my hand over my mouth and threw the test at Nathan. I think the actual words to come out of his mouth were ‘your fucking joking me’. He then started nervous laughing and reminded me how I told him it would probably take us a while to get pregnant because id been on the pill for so long, Opps. 2-3 weeks pregnant, I wanted to wait until our 12 week scan to tell anybody so now we had to try and keep it a secret! Hardest thing ever!! I remember us going to my mum and dads for tea one night before my scan and I asked Nathan if we could tell them, I thought they would suss it out If not as I’d been feeling a bit sick and faint. So I’m sat at the tea table and said ‘You know how your both really really good parents…’ Dad then chirps up ‘OH WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW!’ (Thanks dad, really killed my flow) I then started crying and think I just about managed to get the words out ‘How do you feel about being grandparents again?’ I think we all had a little cry and then the excitement began! To tell Nathans mum and dad we wanted to wait until we were face to face so we couldn’t tell them until nearly Christmas time, after my scan. We got a card that was a Christmas card for grandparents and then put a scan picture inside. Nathans mum had completely bypassed the front of the card, then saw the scan picture and was gobsmacked! More tears - theres been a lot.

Finally we could tell the world - Best Christmas Ever!!

Robbie P was right, I’d got my fairytale after all and all my dreams had come true. 

Pregnancy was pretty kind to me with a small amount of sickness. For probably the first time ever I was happy with my body and the amazing thing it was doing. It always blows my mind what a womans body is capable of doing and how it can grow a tiny human. The summer however, was not so kind! Hottest summer ever and I’m waddling around like a bloody whale. Being heavily pregnant I imagine is not very comfortable at the best of times, but its a nightmare in the summer when nothing fits. Thats actually something I have noticed that winter maternity clothes are great, summer, crap! Just an FYI for people, and I’m sure I’m speaking on behalf of any woman thats been pregnant or is currently. Do not say to them, I repeat, do not say ‘WOAH, your huge!’ ‘Your massive’ ‘Look at the size of you’ thats the point where every woman just smiles sweetly and mutters under their breath to themselves. Definitely not what you want to hear when your walking round feeling like a flump squashed into clothes. 

When I’d got just 6 weeks left until due date I think Nath decided he’d try and put me into early labour to put me out of my sweaty misery. I got a call at work from my mum to say that Nathan had been in an accident and was at the hospital. I can’t explain the turmoil that goes through your mind. I just remember crying and asking if he was ok, mum didn’t say too much other than that he was going for a scan and that he was ok. I was told to drive to the hospital sensibly and not to panic…..of corse you do nothing but panic! I think I actually had a go at him when I got to the hospital, so kind and caring! Typical me. Him and mum had been arguing since late morning about who was going to ring me and tell me as neither of them wanted to do it, not like I was gonna have a breakdown or anything 😬

He’d rolled his fully loaded cement truck down a bank, completely squashed it and managed to pull himself out. To look at the photographs and from what the ambulance service had said, he was lucky to be alive, you can’t actually tell how a body could of been in the cab of the lorry, let alone got out of it. Nath had broke his back, now that sounds quite extreme but from looking at the photos I was happy that was his only problem. One good thing about it, he had to wear a back brace which people were more interested in staring at than my big bump - cheers Nath, always looking out for me.

Firstly, what I have titled this is bullshit :) 

Secondly, no matter what way you give birth to your child whether it be naturally, assisted, c-section etc you are amazing for doing so. Not only have you grown that tiny human with your own body, you then bring he/she into the world in whatever way possible or necessary at that time - so fucking well done you! 

My mum told me from the start that every pregnancy and birth has its own story - and that is so very true. No two are the same and each and everyone should be celebrated for the greatness that it is. 

My personal experience was via an emergency c-section and I want to share that with you. 

From day one I had it all planned out, I wanted a water birth and I wanted it all to be as natural as possible. Id seen on one born, various videos and pictures on the internet of that special moment when a mother holds their child for the first time, I wanted that and the closeness that came with it. Unfortunately, having to be induced and the aftermath that followed that obviously wasn’t the way my story was meant to go. 

When you get told you need to have a section your all systems go, your ready for it, you just want your baby out and safe. You and anything else in the world suddenly have no importance anymore and all you want is to hear those little baby cries.

I remember signing a consent form that I never read, I don’t remember getting undressed and putting a gown on so god knows who did that and I remember going into theatre where they were talking me through things and getting me prepped for surgery. 

I don’t know what they said to me, I really wasn’t listening. All I can remember asking again and again is where Nath was and why wasn’t he in there. (Of corse, like the movies he was getting all scrubbed up - dishy).

It was that moment sat on the edge of the table that the panic set in, you suddenly feel very alone in a room full of people. I became scared of what was happening and the thought that I was about to undergo the first major surgery I’d ever had. Jesus Christ, I’ve only ever broke my little finger before and thats when I was about 8, so this was big time. I was told to curve myself over a cushion whilst they injected my spine, then immediately laid down on the table, and asked to lift my legs - couldn’t do it, job done. Thankfully Nath had come in by then and I felt more relaxed like I could cope with what was going on. 

When it was all underway I can remember saying to Nathan that it felt like the doctor was making a pizza with my stomach 😂 He thought I was high! It’s the oddest thing, to be able to feel that someone is doing something, but to have no sensation whatsoever. Within about 15 minutes of entering the room, Ada was born. I then had to be sewn up which took about three times as long as the birth! Also, absolutely mortified that it isn’t like one born every minute where you have a gown covering your modesty. Nothing modest about realising afterwards that the doctors have just been staring at your vagina for the past half hour or so and it definitely wasn’t covered up. (I mean they probably wasn’t looking at it at all, but you know what I mean). 

I was took into a side room afterward for recovery where they fitted a catheter, what amazing things those are! Don’t even know you need a wee and that things filling itself up! Definitely don’t get confused with catheter and cannula when talking afterwards…done that far too many times and got some strange looks! It was then that the mum guilt started to set in, not only was I worried about Ada, I felt like I had failed her. Everything had been planned so perfectly in my mind of how I wanted it to go, and I felt like I had failed to deliver that to myself and my child. I felt like I wasn’t capable of giving birth, so someone else had to intervene and do it for me. (I realise now that I was stupid to think that and I did what I needed to as a mother, but I’m sure a lot of people who have had a section will understand where I am coming from). I’ve since seen a meme that said ‘I had an epidural, then I had a c-section, then I bottle fed, and now I’m sitting here at the playground wondering what all the guilt was about because my kid is just as weird as yours’ Oh so true!!

Then the time comes when you’ve managed to get some movement and feeling back into your legs and you have to stand up. Now I was told ’Stand with your legs, don’t push with your arms and don’t pull on your tummy muscles’ Easier fucking said than done Susan! (I don’t think her name was Susan, but it fits) You’ve just had your stomach muscles and womb sliced through, but just use your legs that also have no strength because there definitely a bit numb still but your desperate to get up and see your baby. 

Now when that aesthetic starts to wear off, I am not going to sugar coat it, its fucking painful. Your fully aware of whats going on down there even when you just breath, god forbid you need to sneeze or cough! I think I definitely got up and about too soon, I was dizzy and lightheaded and felt like the blood had drained out of me when I got back into bed after seeing Ada. And I happily accepted any drug they wanted to give me, I couldn’t tell you what they were but they helped, so thanks for that part Susan. 

The first night was a bit of a blur with how I was feeling because of everything else that was going on but I know simple things, like moving in bed and trying to sit up was hard work. I was given medication throughout the night by a midwife, who informed me I had been given some sort of super ibuprofen up my bum whilst on the operating table 😂 - which apparently I consented too but I had no idea, good work doc, didn’t even realise. 

The following day I decided I needed to have a shower and sort my life out, all whilst Nathan was doing a great job of whizzing me around the hospital backwards in a wheelchair because we hadn’t quite got the hang of it going forward. Thankfully there was a seat in the shower, I’d never of had the strength to be able to stand for that length of time. It’s at times like that when you realise how much you take for granted being able to do everyday things. I remember sitting there and crying out of frustration, feeling like a massive, naked, deflated beach ball. Good job Nathan loves me because no one should have to see that haha. He washed my hair, washed me and then helped me up and got me dry.  Graphic bit coming up…sorry. SO for anyone who ends up having a c section, make sure you take your pad and fresh knickers into the bathroom with you. I am saying this after learning a lesson, I did not, and was most shocked and mortified when it looked like Satan had released himself all over the bathroom floor. Nathan was pretty shocked too, he ran and got a midwife - apparently its all normal! So relax 😅

Something else that comes with c-sections…knee high compression socks. Now if your by yourself, you better ask for help. There is no way whatsoever that you will get them bad boys on single handedly after that op, Nath had to pretty much choke slam me into mine. Also, really not the best fashion accessory when its 30 something degrees outside…I think mine lasted about two days!

And then comes the dreaded day, the first poo 😳 Id been taking iron pills, three a day. To try and counteract the affect that they have on you I’d been given lactulose. Nothing was happening, I think probably 5 days past and then the urge came! I remember sitting on that toilet and wanting to push but there isn’t a single thing in your body thats gonna let you do that, so you just sit and wait, like your waiting for fucking Christmas. That was no bloody Christmas let me tell you, black poop! Straight on google to check I wasn’t dying…turns out, just the iron tablets 😂 

Totally never realised you have to have injections after a c section either, absolutely fine when the midwives are doing it for you, then you get discharged…AND YOU HAVE TO DO IT YOURSELF! Theres something really hard about trying to give yourself an injection in your stomach, id have to psych myself up about ten times before id actually get it done. 

Before I was discharged I had a lady come and do some exercises with me, and show me the correct way to cough e.g. holding your stomach. All fine as you know when your going to cough, but a sneeze! Oh lord, they just pop up out of nowhere, no preparation, nothing. I sneezed unexpectedly one night and was convinced I had split my stomach open, obvs Dr. Nathan checked the situation out for me - just being a drama queen as usual!

You are also told ‘Don’t do too much, and don’t lift anything heavier than a kettle for 6 weeks’ Pretty sure Ada came out weighing more than a kettle so that was that one buggered! I definitely used to do too much around the house, washing etc, but you know about it afterwards. I think for a good few weeks I just ached continuously, Getting off the sofa, sitting up in bed, walking upstairs could all be pretty hard work somedays. 

Bleeding, who knew you could survive after losing so much blood. And just when you think it’s stopped, BOOM, guess who’s back, back again! Another thing I googled to see if I was dying, I wasn’t, and good old google informed me that everyone is different but it can last for a few months on and off, GREAT! What a glam life us mums have. 

Personally I am gutted that I won’t experience a natural birth, the chances of me having another baby is currently slim to none and even then I would book in for a c-section because I am too scared of what could happen after Ada. 

I think the point of this is to be mindful of what you say to someone, e.g. the easy way out, too posh to push etc. Not everyone has a choice, the ideal birth they have created in their mind has been taken away from them, some people won’t ever get the chance to experience a natural birth, a contraction, that first hold. Some people might opt to have a c-section, and that is totally fine! We all have to do what is best for us and has our Childs best interest at heart. 

So whatever choice you make or have to make, do it for you and your baby - fuck what everyone else says, this is your story, not theirs.