New Mama Tag

I got this idea from watching the new mum/mom tag videos on YouTube, which was created by the beautiful and inspirational Emily Norris, so without any further ado, let’s answer some questions.

1) Favourite Mum Hack?

This might not be too amazing but, I’d say teaching your child to perform basic clean up tasks as a game, has been my fave hack. Reuben loves wiping his high chair down and helping with the laundry for this reason.

2) Most Embarrassing Mum Moment?

I thought I could bottle feed in the nursing room in a shopping centre. I was wrong.

3) Favourite part of the day?

Going to get Reuben out of his cot after any nap/sleep. It’s lovely. Bathtime is a close second, that’s always a giggle.

4) Worst part of the day?

Cleaning up after mealtimes irritates me every single time.

5) Worst thing someone said to you when pregnant?

“you got pregnant so you didn’t have to work” and “just another useless mum on the dole” and also “you’re absolutely massive”. Yay.

6) A baby name you disagreed on?

Reuben. But, I got my way.

7) Do you co-sleep?

It’s only occasional now, when trying to get extra sleep in the morning, or when Reu is poorly.

However, when Reu was a newborn, I didn’t want to cosleep, but often, it was very necessary. There was many ways to make sure it’s safely done. I panicked about SIDS constantly but I found many tricks for making cosleeping as safe as possible.

8) Baby products you never used?

I didn’t really have everything I needed when I had Reuben, but I never used his newborn clothing. My 8lb 6oz baby was too long.

9) Name 3 hospital bag must haves?

Comfortable clothes, painkillers, pads.

10) Are you a go with the flow or routine mum?

I’m a bit of both. I have routines but I’m flexible about when they begin and when naps occur. I would love to be more a routine mum but I’m too lazy. Or laid back, rather. I am really lucky that my child has always been a good sleeper.

11) What labour and pain relief did you have?

I was induced, I had gas and air and an epidural. It was traumatic. I wouldn’t opt for another induction at all if I could help it. Future me: if it’s not 100% necessary, don’t do it.

12) Have you ever been mum shamed?

Yes. By a midwife in the hospital on the post natal ward for giving in and giving Reu formula. By a few people I know for quitting breastfeeding three weeks in. And recently, an old women decided to say I was a shit mother who didn’t care about my baby because I was using my phone on the bus, instead ot interacting with Reuben.

13) What have been the biggest challenges?

Healing from trauma /going through therapy, whilst being a single mother. Especially when I am studying. It’s so hard.

14) What is the best advice you’ve had or that you’ve given?

“You’ve got to take care of yourself too” and “don’t compare yourself to other mothers”. Also, if you can ask for help, or are offered it, take it. You need to take some of that pressure off yourself, Mama!

15) Who’s your mum crush?

Britneyandbaby and Louise Pentland are my ultimate role models on Youtube, but in real life, I have many mummy friends I look up to.

That was quite fun. I will tag fellow parent vloggers in my insta post!

Thank you for reading,

With love, Rebecca x

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Life For Us Lately

Hello again,

I thought today I would take a moment to sit and write about how life is at the moment.

Starting with Reuben, of course, my little buddy. He just turned 16 months old, and is a cheeky toddler, who’s currently a bit poorly. Poor mite has a cold. They’re not that bad, are they? But they’re not fun either. Who knew you could become an expert nose wiper in 1 hour? Not me. But I know now. And so do you.

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Parenting is rough at the moment. My mental health is a bag of… a bag of… not good things. The brain fog has been awful, which is a massive sign that the CPTSD has flared up once again, because I am too exhausted to think straight. Today, I’ve got a good few hours on my own so I have an opportunity to breathe without expectations.

I don’t know if that makes sense. But lately, I’ve not had very much time on my own and I have both yearned for it and feared it. I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts but feeling like I am suffocating all the time isn’t fun either. Flashbacks, low self esteem, sensory overload, brain fog, anxiety attacks, nightmares, self doubt… they’re just a few of the things getting to me lately. It’s been hard.

The hardest thing is that I should be happy. Matthew is amazing. I’ve never felt so well loved, never felt so sure about a person before. He’s loving, supportive, funny, handsome, and definitely, a very good man. I am happy. “Honeymoon period” or not, this one’s a keeper. And I feel like my mental health is trashing up my life like some sort of hormone tornado. It’s ripping through my ability to feel good, stomping all over my parenting, throwing my relationship through the air.

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I’m lucky though. Matthew isn’t the only one who’s been incredibly supportive through this hard time. My sister, Hannah, has also been making sure I am okay. She’s been helping mentally, and physically… babysitting, cleaning, being someone to talk to. We never used to get on, but now we’re best friends. And I trust her with my child. I trust both Matthew and Hannah with Reuben and that’s a wonderful feeling, to know that I don’t have to be alone.

I mean, I still feel isolated. They’re being as supportive as they can, but I am too afraid to speak about half of the things that are going on my mind. I try sometimes, but sometimes I can’t find the words. I have done before, in therapy, but I knew that my therapist is a person who is trained in knowing what to say, how to react, how to help. There’s no guarantee with that in real life, no matter how much the person cares about you. I hate when I’ve opened up about something big in the past, and I’ve had a “is that all?” response (usually in their facial expression), and it’s hurt. I wonder; did the words not do the trauma justice? Am I just pathetic? I guess ultimately, I’m worried that I’ll be seen differently if I open up about things.

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I’m not weak because I am struggling. I am strong because I am fighting. This is another storm that I can and will sail through, no matter how rough the tides are, and I am not afraid of it. I am not alone. There is hope.

Hope, such as, that house move I am hoping for this year. If you don’t know, I am bidding for council houses so I am on a waiting list to be moved. Every week I bid on available properties that I am eligible for, and every week I do get closer and closer, looking at where I’m ranking at the end of the each week. I reckon I have maybe 6-9 months of waiting. It would be less but I am trying to move to a much better part of this city, where the housing and schools are better, so I am prepared to wait a bit longer. Even if living here is literally a source of stress and anxiety, I know holding on for the best is worth it. I want to give Reuben, and myself actually, a better life.

So I guess I really better pull my socks up with my degree. Studying has been bothersome lately. Mentally I’m not doing so good (have I… have I mentioned this?) and the last thing I feel like doing with any available time is opening my textbooks. I have been doing it here and there, but I’m definitely struggling to find the self-discipline to get the work done. Hopefully it doesn’t cost me too dearly in the next assessment. I did really want to get a First this year but it seems like it’s out of reach due to my first two assessments. I’m awaiting my third one to be marked but I really hope I’ve done better because I tried so hard to improve. As you can imagine, a blogger’s style of right doesn’t fly with the tutors, so it’s always a challenge to be concise and formal in my essays. I am trying though, isn’t that what’s important?

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I know that my mental health isn’t great but that’s all under the surface stuff, I still feel really appreciative. I still find myself having moments, hours, or the odd day where I feel truly happy. I’m still pushing through. I’m still making sure I go to the gym once a week, laugh whenever I can, and cry whenever I need to. Right now, despite knowing I’ve a huge list of housework to complete, I am okay. I am happy I have found love, support and gratitude this year.  And I’m sure when my skin clears up, and this sad phase ends, I will truly find myself blossoming. Life is changing, everyone, and I am really delighted to say that.

Thank you for reading,

With love,
Rebecca x

Things Will Change.

Reuben is my little best friend.

He drives me nuts on the regular, but he’s pretty awesome. I’m lucky that he’s well behaved (most of the time) and I know that this could change (he’s only 15 months old) but I appreciate the way he is now.

I try not to look too far forward into the future, and lately, I’ve been trying not to think about the baby he once was. The past has gone, the future isn’t here yet, but the present? That’s very much at my fingertips.

And tonight, Reuben cuddled up to me to watch one of his favourite baby sensory videos after his bath. With his bottle cooling and his sleepsuit soft and snug, I am reminded of his younger days. I’d put baby sensory videos on a lot when he was a baby. They were both easier and harder. It’s relative, I think. For instance, he was much easier to take care of (e.g. no running about after him, and was very content no matter what) but he also had more needs (e.g. Needed more supervision eating, and not to mention endless bottles… And endless bottle washing). Anyway, the video in particular, sent me hurtling into a nostalgia that is almost too bittersweet.

I often forget though, that these days are special too. He’s not as small as he used to be, but he’s smaller than he’s gonna be. I have a toddler. A toddler that will turn into a child. A child that turns into a teenager… Shiver my timbers, that freaks me out. I honestly don’t look ahead like this because it scares the bejesus out of me.

I guess what this post is, is another little reminder to myself to remain grateful for my little boy. Because sure, motherhood feels like I’m being constantly run over by a herd of geese, but you know… There’s moments between getting run over where I’m astounded at how beautiful it is. And I suppose I’m feeling that way now, hence the soppy post.

Lately, I’ve been really focused on creating a better life for my little boy. I’ve been exploring my options to see if returning to work is a viable option. I want to give him more, I want us to have more, I want more as well – I’d be lying if I didn’t say that.

So many changes are coming, I feel them, mainly because I’m making them happen. So keep your eyes peeled because I have a funny feeling *wink wink* things are going to get interesting around here & as usual, I want to blog the journey :).

With love, Rebecca ♡

The Parent I Was Before Becoming A Parent

It’s funny, isn’t it? Before you become a parent, you are full of idealistic preferences on what sort of parent you think you’ll be and what you think parenting will be like.

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pre-baby beccy.

And then motherhood, or fatherhood, comes in it’s full glory and runs you the fuck over. “Choo choo, bitch. You thought wrong”, it says, as it flattens your expectations and your blob of an exhausted body to the ground. And in your cemented-to-the-floor status, you have to admit that they were right about how hard being a parent is and that it was easier to parent before you actually became one.

For me, the dark truth hit as soon as I became pregnant. My symptoms started about a week after conception. And I had Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Otherwise known as: haha your body hates being pregnant and you are going to spend a small eternity weeping into buckets and toilets, starving half to death, convulsing up your body weight in fuck-knows-what (since you haven’t eaten in days) in a possessed fashion.

Honestly, HG is a violent reaction to pregnancy, it hurts a ridiculous amount and I preferred my God awful induced labour to the first 18 weeks of my pregnancy (after that it was manageable with medication). It was vile. And I was thankful to be pregnant, but the 21 year old me who was hugging the bedroom wall at a 35° angle, trying not to be sick (again, please god, no), was so miserable and so isolated and so afraid.

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around 15 weeks pregnant 🙂

And yet, during my breadline pregnancy, I still managed to keep a romanticised view of motherhood. I’d like to add I knew it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows but I was imagining motherhood as if it was going to be this holistic, healing walk through a Disney movie. I had no idea of the horrors of attempting to breastfeed a baby with reflux or looking after a newborn for days at a time on my own. I had no idea that I’d hate babywearing, and that it wouldn’t work for me, or that the stairs of my flat would often prevent me from going out because it was such a mammoth task. I had no idea I’d have to choose bottle washing over eating, that I’d worry about SIDS constantly for the first six months-ish. I cried so much and I didn’t have PND, I had a severe case of exhaustion. It was hard in the ways I didn’t realise it was going to be.

I also had no idea that the love for my unborn baby would not even begin to cover how much my heart would burst looking at Reuben. I had no idea of the indescribable love that would flood through every single cell in my body. I still can’t describe it. My child is now at an age where he’s starting to misbehave and it’s still there; the disbelief that this beautiful baby is mine and I’d give anything to protect him. The thankfulness I feel when I look at him, whether he’s being an angel or a little shit, often is overwhelming. I feel joys every day that my pre-baby self could not possibly understand.

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exhausted mama? yes. run down? yes. happy? yes.

But my pre-baby self, undoubtedly so, could not imagine being a parent at all. It’s not like babysitting at all. It’s not like looking after anyone else’s kids – and if you want to know why – it’s because they’re not yours. When the child is yours (I include adopted children here), it’s different, because the love you feel for them shapes an intricate bond. You hurt with them, you feel joy with them, when they’re testing you, it hurts. It all hurts. It hurts so much.

Nobody tells you how much it hurts watching your baby grow up and out of your arms, no matter how proud of them you are, it hurts. It breaks your heart, especially because all the hormones of the fourth trimester render you incapable of remembering the blur of new motherhood. All the days mash together in the roast dinner that is motherhood.

And it is a roast dinner, yeah? It is. You are the yorkshire pudding in a plate of chaos and you best believe you can hold your gravy if you want to survive. Otherwise, you’ll be a soggy messy, wondering why that mum on instagram has conquered parenting, cleaning and baby group in the time it’s taken you to get your baby sorted and finally have your breakfast.

My advice to you if you ever feel like that is to whisper good for you but fuck off and enjoy another cup of coffee in your pjs. Stop comparing yourself. Contrary to popular belief, there’s no set routine for your days and if you let go of it, you’ll be happier, I promise.

Routines for your baby are good but routines for you? They’re overrated in my opinion. Go with the flow, learn how to breathe when you’re overwhelmed, and care less about the state of the house. It’ll get done, okay? It’ll get done, but for now, snuggle your little one while they still want snuggles & ignore the pressure to Mrs Hinch your rug and Marie Kondo your knicker drawer – it doesn’t fucking matter. Tidy house, tidy mind, is a thing but you’re going to a miserable mama if you’ve lost your sanity trying to achieve instamum perfection.

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photos taken around this time last year, the photo of reu in the blue hat is exactly 1 year ago today!

It might be hard to let go of the parent you wanted to be. I found it hard. But I had to realise that I was given a set of skills to work with in my specific situation and all I could do was hold on, and get through it the best I could.

I promise you, you’re doing a fab job, okay? Bad parents don’t worry about being bad parents. Good parents do. Chill out a bit.

Thank you for reading,

With love, Rebecca ♡

Festive feelings.

What a lonely Christmas this is going to be.

I keep trying to put on a brave face and remain positive, I am determined to make the best out of it and really enjoy my day with Reuben… but it’s still just going to be me and Reu.

And today, a wave of grief hit. I found some of my Nana’s socks that I must have borrowed and never gave back. They were in the back of my drawer, fluffy, and still smelt like her laundry detergent and her home – over four years after her passing. I put them on and I wept.

I haven’t cried about my Nana for a long time. I remember when she first passed I cried all day every day. And then it was every other day. And then it was once or twice a week. To say I was heartbroken was an understatement. It absolutely crushed me. But there was a shift a few months after she passed, and following the birth of my brother. I decided I wanted to make her proud. And I also decided that I was in no fit state to have a child of my own, I was extremely broody and dreamt of motherhood (have done since I was 15 in fact) but I realised that the depressed insomniac on antidepressants needed to make every area of her life more stable before she had a baby. But that’s, that’s quite a tangent I went on, isn’t it? Oh dear.

Anyway, it’s been a while since I cried. But these socks, they really brought it home.

And Christmas? Christmas is creating such an ache in my heart because it screams family and festivity. It screams of indulgence and religion too (but I’m not religious). But here I am, knowing full well it’s going to feel like just another day for the most part.

Well, actually… I’m going to try my best to enjoy it. I could really enjoy Christmas Day but there’s a possibility I will be crying wreck when the day comes. That’s what happens when you run out of family.

Not that they’re all dead mind. Some I cut off, some I don’t like and some just don’t want me around.

I envy people will close families.

Because as much as I adore my online community of friends that I genuinely do care about. There are days when you really notice how alone you are.

I know, I know, I’m not truly alone, I have Reuben. I know this. It’s just that we can’t exactly strike up a conversation and he’s very independent. If I try to play with him with his toys he looks up at me, eyebrow raised, until I move away. He is the sweetest little boy though, I do my best to laugh with him all day long.

Today in fact, I turned the TV off after breakfast, because I’m doing a little experiment. I’m trying to see how much more I do, and how much more Reuben plays, if the TV isn’t distracting us. I’ll probably turn it on around dinner time though.

That’s the thing though, it’s such a distraction from all my thoughts and feelings. When Reuben took his nap (and he’s 95 minutes into this nap), I got studying and got through all the online activities – well not all some I labelled ‘irrelevant and annoying’ and blatantly dismissed them – so I’m now up to date. Hey, I got 14/15 questions right on the survey I just did about the week’s studies and I’m impressed with myself.

But back on point, it’s Christmas and that makes my heart heavy. But I’m going to do my best to have a lovely Christmas with my Reubs.

We will play Christmas music and movies, have the fairy lights on all day long, eat lots of food and I’ll try to stay off my phone as much as possible (I like taking pictures but then I get distracted by notifications and then I end up scrolling – it’s a trap!). I’m going to love seeing Reuben open his presents and completely ignore the contents! Haha. No but seriously I think he’s going to love them… and probably the balloons I intend to buy, since the ones from his birthday are pretty much stress balls at this point.

On a very soppy note…
Reuben is my link between heaven and earth. I had a psychic reading done in December 2016 where my Nana told me she was sending me my baby back. I was told he’d make it. And so, when I look at my sweet boy. And people tell me he’s an old soul, that he’s been here before, I just know in my heart that he is. His eye colour is settling but sometimes they go the colour of my Nana’s eyes and that always makes me a bit emotional. And even if people think that I’m silly for believing this, I will still believe it. That little boy, saved my life, and keeps saving my life, and although I know he’s his own person… he’s still my link between heaven and earth. And I intend to give him a wonderful childhood.

I think he must have heard that; he has just woke up! Time to give him cuddles!

Thank you for reading!

With love, Rebecca ♡

This Time Last Year

I remember the way I felt this time last year. The way the air felt, the white noise of something mechanical humming at night (I still can’t figure out what it is), the way the lights across the city seemed crisper… It all reminds me, like the most wonderfully enchanting memory. There is no doubt in my mind that I’m remembering with rose-tinted glasses. But I know for a fact, also, that I remember that the person I was before Reuben was born felt a kind of excitement, naivety and apprehension that I’m scared I will never feel again.

The selfie I took before heading to the hospital to be induced.

I remember feeling dreadfully uncomfortable, completely DONE with being pregnant and massive. And moreover, I was done being told how massive I was. As if I couldn’t tell!? I was sick of the sickness, the acid reflux, the endless peeing, the pain I was feeling around my ribs, the ridiculous amounts of discharge and the sweating. You know, I was still trying my best to cherish my pregnancy but I think I spent more time trying to film baby kicks than I did actually appreciating the moments (something I will remember if I’m lucky enough to have a second). I would rest my hands on my bump, take endless photos, but by 37 weeks I was done. So when I was offered an induction days before my due date, I leapt at the chance.

I’d seen a lot of inductions on One Born Every Minute and I’d read the leaflet but nothing could have prepared me for the days that followed. I felt like I’d been in hospital for a week before I was actually induced – in a different hospital – on my due date.

But my mind seems to have fixated on the little details of the hospital I was supposed to give birth in, when I was waiting to be taken to delivery suite to have my waters broken. In all honesty, it was quite lovely but I was so impatient and being in a hospital bay all day waiting around was driving me a bit nuts. I wasn’t very well prepared, I hadn’t brought much to entertain myself – which is probably why I remember the space around me in vivid detail. From the way the light hit the blue flooring during the day, to the way the overhead lamp created a calming ambience at night. I remember bouncing on that big purple gym ball for hours hoping labour would come on spontaneously but I now realise, it was doing very little for me, and it was probably making me all the more impatient.

I was offered a transfer to the other hospital where I had a bed on delivery suite waiting for me on my due date, a few hours after my mucus plug went, and I jumped at the chance. I now wonder if my experience might have been different if I’d have stayed at the hospital that I wanted to give birth in. But nevermind, what good are what ifs? No good at all.

So there I was, in the delivery suite of this other hospital, taking a quick video of the room for my Instagram. I was telling people I’d no longer be replying. Although I did later on, at some point, I can’t remember when. And I had no idea what was coming as far as the syntocin drip was concerned.

I love that before they broke my waters and put me on that drip, I was blissfully unaware saying “whatever happens I’ll deal with it, as long as baby is okay”. I mean, that wasn’t a bad mindset to have but… Yeah… the girl on the ball in her nightie who just had her waters broken, and the girl on the bed who just got given the epidural were a couple of hours apart, and I can assure you the girl on the bed felt like she’s been through a kind of hell that she knew had changed her forever. The rest of it was a breeze though, if that’s any consolation – it was to me!

I gave birth to Reuben just over 12 hours after they’d broken my waters, and it was incredible. I felt the love instantly – it was euphoric! I felt the rush of love which I’d heard people say is indescribable and I was so relieved. I was so, so happy. When I had been waiting to push, I remember thinking “this is it, my dream is about to come true, I’m gonna meet my baby!” and that was an unforgettable moment too.

So is it any wonder that I feel this way now that Reuben’s 1st birthday is a day away? It’s so bittersweet. I feel happy and sad at the same time. I feel my heart aching so badly when I think back to it. I know this is common in mothers but I never really hear or read anyone talking about it.

Maybe it’s because I feel cheated out of enjoying those newborn days, maybe it’s because I had a vision of how I wanted things to be during pregnancy and it wasn’t like that. It’s not like my expectations were high but when you’re poor and feeling unsupported through both pregnancy and your newly made mother days, it’s very hard to feel like I got anything right at all back then… I don’t know. I guess I am overly critical but when I think back, I have regrets and I find myself saying “here’s what I’d do differently”.

Anyway, it’s hard to believe Reuben’s been on this earth for a year now. He’s turned into my little best friend & he makes me smile all the time. Even though we have been poorly recently, there’s still been smiles. And I’m far from perfect but I know I’m a good Mama.

I’m feeling very nostalgic and wistful about this time last year but don’t worry, I’m also concentrating on making this year’s memories count! Reuben’s presents are ready for Thursday, the flat is looking nicer than it ever has done (apart from the kitchen right now) & I’ve even put the Christmas tree up!

I love motherhood, it puts a kind of joy and resilience in my soul that nothing else can. I mean, there’s obviously sadness and mum guilt in there too BUT! Let’s focus on the good!

Thank you for reading,

With love, Rebecca ♡

Survival Tips When You’re Sick

We have been quite unwell this week. First, Reuben was sick through the night and then when he started to recover the next day, we went out, but then by the time we came home, it was my turn! It’s not been fun. I’d like to add Reuben has had a mild case of the sniffles and is teething too which hasn’t helped matters, but it’s nothing that can’t be eased with mummy cuddles (and Anbesol).

Anyway, we both recovered within 24 hours so I am assuming it was a tummy bug – which is a the technical term, for having an upset stomach. There’s been a lot of sick you guys, it’s not been nice.

It isn’t surprising that getting through the day (and the night!!) when you’re unwell and your child is too, isn’t a bucket of laughs. But I thought I’d write a list of tips on making it as bearable as possible – and it might just be a good reference to me in the future, but it might help you too!

  • Everything can wait! Stop worrying about the dishes in the sink and Mount Laundry Basket. It can wait. Same goes for the laundry waiting to be put away or the vacuuming. The moment you feel better, you can tackle it. For now, bare minimum (such as rinsing cups and plates and leaving them in a stack, or putting the sicky clothes and bedding in the washing machine) is a good start. I know we can’t all stay home and do barely anything because we have other kids and commitments, but if you can, I recommend using the little energy you have on looking after you and your child.
  • If you can get any help at all, accept it! My sister was visiting when we got sick which was quite the coincidence but this meant there was someone their to lighten the load. Whilst Reu and I took a nap, she did the dishes and tidied up without being asked and then we woke up to a little snack plate and drinks. This was appreciated since I hadn’t eaten in what felt like forever after a night of throwing up. So yes, you may have to ask for someone to help you but you even if it’s just someone picking up some groceries or running you a bath and watching the kids, it’s worth it.
  • Drink plenty, stay warm, and take your medicine… You don’t get any medals for not taking your damn medicine/painkillers, so do it! Rest is important but you’re not going to rest at all if you’re aching everywhere. I timed taking some paracetamol in time for Reuben’s naps and we snuggled up in bed together. I really did ignore the fact I needed to do housework and studies because I wanted to rest and sleep as much as I possibly could. I think the more you rest, the quicker you get better. So take the painkillers to help make yourself more comfortable (my body ached so bad this time around I felt like Mr Potato! I don’t know, if anyone will understand how that made sense to me).

Also…

  • What you eat when you’re poorly is important. Reuben lost his appetite for a while and so did I but when we ate simple food, we started getting better quicker. Things like fruit and chicken soup, in small amounts frequently, really helped. I always think eating whatever form of protein is best for you really helps you to recover.
  • Humidifiers, saline drops, baby paracetamol… These all help you and your baby lots but please, if there’s one thing that’s made this whole thing easier, it’s that I was able to snuggle up with Reuben pretty much all the time. I let go of a lot of rules… I let him watch TV in the early hours in his travel cot so I could throw all the sicky blankets, bedding and clothes into the washing machine (we were very low on wipes so I ended up using a blanket or two to catch and clean up sick) and he actually fell asleep in there.

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s best to just snuggle up and ride it out together. Everything else can wait. And if you have to go out, bundle up warm and don’t stay out too long. The fresh air will help but at this time of year, try not to be out too long if you are poorly. Eat nutrious food (when you can), keep yourself hydrated and stay warm. Those are my survival tips beyond the medicine.

Thank you for reading!

With love, Rebecca ♡