Time

Time is a bitch really, isn't it?

I complain about not having enough time but at the same time, I'm quite content to sit on my arse sometimes and do nothing.  But those sometimes, it's because I feel a little like I'm wading through treacle.  I think half the problem there is lugging this body around and the other half is that I'm just so bogged down with 'stuff'.

I said to Andy last night that I wish I could just hit pause.  There's so much I want to do, or more importantly, THINK about.  I just want thinking space.  I have lots I need to give some proper thought and attention to but I just never feel like I have a clear enough headspace to do it.  

My brain has enough crap in it, small, assorted crap, but then something bigger comes along and just pushes everything else out of my brain.  And whilst, that’s normal, it’s also really really hard to deal with, because some of that small, assorted crap is also important crap, “Various things for Guides, Woody’s lost his lunchbox, do we move house, do we move to Bromley, do I get a different job, Scarlett has no clean uniform, what are we doing for Christmas, what am I doing with Woody tomorrow as Andy’s in Blackpool, I need more catfood….”  It’s literally endless!!

*Cue Carrie Bradshaw voice*

How do we get thinking space in this busy world we live in?  Am I just overthinking it all?

Curse and Damnit

I whine and whinge about not being the writer I want to be, or not having written the book I now see on the shelves (or books, there's lots in the Bestseller list at the minute that I think, I could've written that.

So, I do solemnly swear, that from now on, I will, I must, make a concerted effort to actually write stuff.

I can't promise the stuff I write will always be that easy to read, or even be that interesting, but I'm sure I read something once which said the key to being a successful writer or blogger is to write daily, prolifically.

I'm not yet sure whether I'll write about life, or fiction, sometimes my life feels like a work of fiction, definitely a Black Comedy.

A little bit about where we are at the minute;

1. Broke (in every sense)
2. Renting, for the third time.  The house is lovely but, we can't really afford it (see Item 1).  We tried to buy a house last year, but it all went awry and now we will probably never buy a house (see Item 1).
3. Depressed, again.  Not taking an medication for it at the minute so should probably see to that, but, can't really stretch to the prescription fees (see Item 1)
4. Carless, as it were, I have a courtesy car but the thing is a thirsty pig diesel automatic and I fucking hate it.  I can't say much about what happened, the twerp is trying to claim it was my fault (I call bullshit of the highest order) but thankfully the insurance company have agreed to repair my car.
5. Content, which must seem unlikely given the above.  Apart from having to come to work everyday which is just dull as shit to be quite honest, there are times when I'm at home with Andy and the kids and I do feel genuinely content.  So it's not all bad.

Anyway, I'm at work, so I'd best get on.  Hopefully some of you will still read my stuff but if not, well here it is anyway.

Why I Blog

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

I've also decided to re-post and not backdate the post date so that it shows up today as it still mostly rings true.  The reasons I've given up and changed sites and then tried again is because at the heart of it all, I really enjoy writing.  Writing is one of those things that has really helped when the going has gotten tough in the past, it's always been like free therapy!

Anyway, I clearly need a bit more therapy at the minute hence being back here....

Original post date: 21 March 2014

I re-branded and relaunched my blog back in January under a new name, new strapline, new hosting service, but it's still the same old me behind the writing.

Since then I've thrown myself heavily into making connections and trying to read as many parenting blogs as I can and one thing has totally overwhelmed me and that's the competition!

It's really daunting. As someone who for some reason has always fancied a shot at gaining online notoriety and recognition for my writing, blogging, tweeting, Instagramming and just generally being a nice person (in the virtual world!) it's come as a bit of a blow when I realise what an uphill struggle it is.  I'm sure that sounds really lame and like I can't be arsed.  The simple fact is, I don't think I'm cut out for the blogging world!  At least, not the blogging world of today.

When I started blogging I was about 17 or 18.  I definitely remember blogging sporadically whilst I was at uni, and I also used to blog a lot in the secret world of IAM (part of BMEzine - probably NSFW btw...!) which going back through the posts over there, I did a lot during 2006, 2007 and 2008 (when Scarlett was a baby!).  I should copy some of the posts over maybe for Archive Day at some point, some of them are quite interesting reading; my random little rambles about life at uni and then having Scarlett.

Ultimately though, my blogging style hasn't changed.  I've always used it as an online diary, I've always found it very cathartic (my recent blog posts especially are testament to that!).  They've always been personal posts, they're always from the heart.  But I'm beginning to wonder whether that's what people actually want to read about....

I get disheartened when people don't comment on my posts, or I feel like no ones reading, or I don't get a tweet from someone saying "nice post".  I worry I don't blog enough, that my posts are too long, that there's not enough pictures, that I don't run competitions, that I don't do reviews or sponsored posts.

Should it matter?!  When I get to the heart of it and I really dig down into WHY I blog, it is just about my life.  I'm sure people find my blog boring, they probably think I swear too much or my posts are too long and really don't have much to say for themselves.  But when I do blog, I enjoy it, and I guess that's why I get so disheartened and feel like giving up.

When I blog, it means something, I have something to say, something to get out - I don't blog for the sake of it! There are plenty who do, and well done to them.  What I wouldn't give to do reviews and sponsored posts and make money from my blog.  I don't have time for that though.  As much as I love writing, I have a bloody difficult 13 week old to look after, as well as a 6 year old, as well as a husband who I feel guilty about if I don't sit on the sofa with of an evening!!

I guess what I'm trying to get out is that I need to stop worrying so much about how much of a following I have, or whether anyone reads my blog, I should just enjoy it for what it is, stop worrying about the competition, and get back to loving it again.  Time will tell whether I increase my following, start doing reviews and sponsored posts, or whether I just stick to it being my inane ramblings.

Stroke of Midnight

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 02 January 2016

As 2015 finally fucked off and we welcome 2016 in style (sat on the sofa, watching the fireworks on the telly) Andy turned to me and said 2016 was about two things:

• Buying a House
• Losing Weight

And he's pretty much spot on.  2016 is definitely about those things, that's the macro view any way.

Post Script: I've deliberately re-posted this one here as I want to follow up on it....

On Reflection: 2015

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 01 January 2016

It's been a while (again).  Life just gets in the way.

When I think back over this past year, I sometimes consider it a triumph I've actually made it to December in one piece.

There's things I've never really spoken about.  Sad things, between Andy and I, that all started unravelling around this time last year.  If I'm not careful, I can feel the patterns which were ultimately our undoing starting to creep back in.  They mostly relate to my own bad attitude and behaviour.

I used to think it was because I was ill.  I certainly had enough people telling me I was like it because I was ill but actually, I think I'm just made this way.  And it's how I temper and smooth my own volatile personality that has a bearing on whether my friends and family stick near me.  I think most know that I can be like this, but underneath it all, I'm not that bad really.  I think this time last year however, my behaviour was driving a wedge between us.

Looking back at the first three months of the year is interesting.

January brought my return to work, and with it a whole new routine (more on that another time).

February saw me spend some time away from the family home.  We felt it was for the best.  We told Scarlett I was working on a project for work that required me to stay on campus.  In reality it was a small flat in Molesey.  It was a nice flat but it felt spectacularly odd.  I've never lived alone.  I hope never to again.

March was time for an Intensive Anger Management course.  I will work on my anger for the rest of my life.  May surprise some that I count myself as an angry person (and probably no surprise at all to others!)  I moved back home to my husband and children at the end of March.

And from thereon, life has been a bit hectic to say the least.

In May we moved, again - and the fact that a lot of our Christmas cards came via my parents' address means I obviously didn't even tell people we'd moved!  We still have a pile of boxes on top of the tumble dryer that have never been unpacked.  Makes you wonder whether we should take them to the tip - we've obviously not missed their contents in the last 7 months!

May also brought my 30th birthday.  In typical anxiety driven fashion, I dithered over what to do.  Did I want to go out and get wasted (yes).  Did I want to celebrate with my kids (yes).  Was I worried about what everyone else wanted to do (always).  In the end I booked a table in the local pub.  And then cancelled it.  And in the end my nearest and dearest came here for my mum's chili and a few drinks.  It wasn't the 30th I had dreamt of (the party to end all parties in Great Gatsby fashion with Beatles For Sale providing the entertainment - there's always my 40th....)(Fuck, 40, cannot imagine being 40 in less than 10 years now, really?!)(No offence to my friends in their 40's....!)

June and July, more of the same, work, work, boring work.  I think it was around this time I decided something really had to give and I couldn't keep working in the same place for much longer for a variety of reasons.  That said, my two office colleagues helped pass the days easier!

August brought me an opportunity I couldn't let pass me by.  So despite having had my confidence knocked at an internal interview (with the School of Nursing, yes, that's right, I will name and shame - worst interview of my life, 5 days after gallbladder surgery, couldn't that have given me a few bonus points?!) I decided to apply.  Thanks to some great pointers on CV's and covering letters I whacked my application in with 15 minutes to spare and waited.  Then came an email, "Please come for an interview on 26th August."  Yippeee!!  Except we were due to have our flying visit to Amsterdam, returning late that evening!  Thankfully they saw me on the 27th and it went really well.  So well in fact they called me about 2 hours after my interview to offer me the job!  Finally, on to brighter, better things!

In August we also explored territories new and booked an all-inclusive package holiday to Sharm El-Sheikh in Egypt.  We literally had no idea what to expect and despite coming down with the dreaded Pharoah's Revenge literally hours after stepping off the plane, we managed to recover and once we booked Woody into the nursery for the week (sorry Woods!) I think we had a good time.  I think Andy and the kids were bored of the food but I quite enjoyed my daily beef and rice for breakfast, lunch and dinner!!  That said it was quite stressful with Woody and we've vowed not to fly with him for a couple of years and to holiday closer to home....

September was a nothing month, filled with handing in my notice and then enduring 5 weeks of a notice period rather than 4 as they were too stinge to give me a couple of extra days off (apparently I already owed them two days and I'd blown my chances because I'd been on reduced time due to stress earlier in the summer which the management obviously weren't happy about, RUDE!)

I did start volunteering with the Guides again in September, and whilst that has brought some challenges (e.g. getting across that I can't be there every week and I'm not sure I can take on the Unit Leadership...) I have enjoyed it.  They're a lovely group of girls and I'm looking forward to new adventures with them this year.

October I finally started my new job and I couldn't be happier.  I cannot tell you the difference it makes to have a job you really enjoy.  Of course there are a couple of niggles; I don't get a lot done some days as I end up picking up random pieces of work from various other members of the team but I'm enjoying most aspects of the job.  I have a new manager starting next week so I'm looking forward to meeting her (unfortunately, my lovely current manager is leaving for Jersey).

And since then it's all been a bit of a whirlwind of working different hours, running around with the children in the morning and being shattered when I get home, but I think it'll be worth it in the end.

And onwards to 2016! Happy New Year!

Newsflash! I'm Still here!

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 02 July 2015

I am still here, surviving, riding that giant rollercoaster.

Lately I've had a few conversations with people about Woody's birth. The first time it just happened, a new friend asked, and I gabbled it out, surprised at how big the lump in my throat was, but how desperately I wanted her to know what had happened, her concern touched me and I felt I had to get it out, the dark little secret which hasn't been told to anyone new in a while.

The second time was on Twitter, and I headlined it purely with, "I nearly died".

Now, I kind of feel like I need to stop putting it in those terms, I guess I do it because, "What?! You nearly died?! Tell me more!"  Why do I go straight for the jugular (ha, funny story, they couldn't even get a line into my jugular, because I was.... nearly dead).  See, even in my own garbled trains of thought, the fact that I thought I wasn't going to make it still seems to come to the forefront.

Is this normal after such a traumatic event? Is it any less interesting to tell people the actual truth rather than the shocking headline?

I think I do it because it's quite a long story, I feel like I want an index card with bullet points thus:

• I wanted a VBAC
• I developed Obstetric Cholestasis; it's a problem with your liver; it can be quite serious, the only cure is to give birth
• They didn't have an Elective Section slots booked; I chose to be induced despite my better judgement and the research I had done
• ARM (Artificial Rupture of Membranes) didn't work; they gave me Syntocinon
• They gave me too much Syntocinon
• Woody was in distress; his heart rate was Bradycardic
• He was born via episiotomy and forceps; yes, I had an Epidural; no, my bits aren't the same but I'm too scared to see anyone about it
• I lost 3.8l of blood; that's about 80% of my total blood volume (or so I am told)
• I went into hypovolemic shock; my veins started collapsing; they were even trying my feet and groin to try and get a line in somewhere; even my jugular collapsed
• I thought I was going to die; so did Andy - he actually thought we were both going to die
• Woody didn't breathe on his own for 4 minutes; within 10 minutes he was doing okay but he was still taken to neonatal care for observation
• Eventually I went to theatre; I was then sent to HDU for 36 hours so I didn't see Woody until that time
• I'm generally in a pretty messed up place about it; I don't know where to get help from; I cry when I think about it

I think that about sums it up, and it's not any less traumatic or shocking, but it's just easier to go straight for the bottom line.  Although, yes, thank you, the bottom line should be, WE SURVIVED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT SHIT!

I know it sounds all very dramatic, and well, it was actually. And I know I sound melodramatic for either going on about it, or dwelling on it, or continuing to battle with my emotions over it, but that's to be expected, surely?  Am I not allowed that?

I'm not saying I like dwelling on it, and actually, even just looking up Uterine Rupture or Hypovolemic Shock scares the shit out of me, but it's something that will forever be here, indelibly marked in my soul, I have the scars to show.

I've had some incredibly hard times lately, I've mostly wanted to hide in bed a lot of the time, but that's no good when you have two children!  Andy keeps asking me, "What's the matter?", but I invariably don't really know, and I feel like everyone gets mad at me when I say, "Just thinking about Woody's birth again" or even, "I don't really know." In fact, the latter seems to wind Andy up more than the former.  It's hard for people to help you when they don't know what's wrong.  That's frustrating beauty of depression, right?!

Even last night, I started thinking about the operation I'm going to need to have my gallbladder removed, and I started panicking; the thought of going into theatre, of going under, of the pain of recovery.  It should be a walk in the park compared to what I went through, but, there it goes, sneaking back up on me, reminding me how awful it was.

And that's sad.  I've spoken before about how ultimately sad I am about Woody's birth. He's growing into an utterly amazing, adorable, characterful little boy, and in some ways I'm glad, because he has not been an easy baby, but then I think, but you're not that little newborn any more, I missed that, because I was so ill and suffering SO tremendously from PTSD and flashbacks and all sorts of nonsense,which I still am, but to a much lesser extent.

Anyway, I'm rambling now.  Heh, that's my blog for you...!

I have lots of other things to update on and I will do, in more happy posts.  Needless to say, I'm back bitches!

Time Flies....

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 21 April 2015

Not that I've been having much fun!

Let's just say, the beginning of the year did not get off to the best start.  For numerous reasons.  Mainly to do with some marriage issues.  And that's all I'll say.

I am pleased to report though that we're putting things back together, slowly but surely.  We're working on our (my) issues and trying to fix it.

Things have been a bit hectic since my last post.  Christmas, coming back to work and 'those' issues have all taken their toll, and suddenly I find myself in April.

I want to do a bit of a post for Depression Awareness Week but I'll do that separately.  I wanted to let you all (my few readers) know that I was still here, still surviving.

I went on a very enlightening course in March to target my anger issues.  I came back feeling empowered and ready to put a different spin on things.  I'm mostly working my programme but as part of that, I need to get back into journalling and blogging as a way of making me present and aware.  Which is hard when you sit at a desk all day and wish the hours away and try everything in your power not to be present!

We're moving house again in a few weeks time.  The new place is smaller, but closer to Worcester Park.  There's not a lot of bulky storage (boy, am I going to miss the garage!) and has built in wardrobes so it's going to be interesting to see where we're going to put everything.  Already I'm having kittens about the kids toys, (Scarlett's room is certainly smaller), and also all the stuff from our study.  I'm thinking of just putting majority of my books into storage or something until we eventually buy a place and I can have some fitted bookcases made!  I feel however, that it's a more realistic move for us.  Ultimately we will end up in something this size (or possibly smaller) thanks to the fucked up market in our part of the UK, so I think it's a good time to have a clear out of all the stuff that's been hanging around for the last year.

Scarlett continues to do well at school.  Her reading and writing know no bounds (though, her writing still needs work, I'm still cursing the school for insisting on teaching them cursive, I kind of think it's holding her back!).  Her listening still needs work and her iPad use is quite frankly ridiculous, but she keeps us down with the kids through her YouTube viewing....!

Woody is finally walking, and has suddenly become a proper mini person in the last couple of weeks.  I like him a lot more than I did this time last year (honesty is the best policy, right?!)  He knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to throw a tantrum if he doesn't get it.  But it is getting a bit easier with his pointing at what he wants.  His current vocabulary includes, "Hiya", "Iggle Piggle", "Sgar sgar" (Scarlett) and "Des Des" (his childminder).  He's very good at nodding and shaking his head and seems to mostly get this right, though it does have hilarious uses, "Woody, are you a monkey?" *Nods head vigourously*.

We've joined a gym in an effort to shift the horrific amount of weight we've gained in recent months (years!).  It's going well so far though Andy has yet to make it up there.  We need to do some Saturday morning's together when the kids can go to the crèche/kids activities and Andy and I can get 2 hours in.  I've been trying to go as much as I can, I have aqua tonight and I'm very excited about it!

Work is....  Yeah, well, work is work.  I'm not massively enjoying it, I miss being at home (I mean, who wouldn't!).  I wish I could go part time but that's not going to happen any time soon (if ever!)  It's a bit depressing to think I might have another 40 years of working ahead of me.  I cannot be stuck doing admin forever, I seem to have lost any skills.  I feel sometimes like I could've done anything, but I threw it all away about 13 years ago and that was that.  I'd love to work for myself, but doing what I don't know.  It's very hard to feel that expanse of time ahead of you, with no real goal of how you want to fill it.

Any ideas?!

Hoping to Move On

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 16 December 2014

It's here. The eve I've been dreading.

I wanted to write this tonight because I don't want Woody's birthday to be darkened with my PTSD.  But I had to get it out there.  I hope people can understand.

All day I've been thinking about sitting on the antenatal ward, waiting.  Waiting for a bed to become free.  It never happened.  Eventually we asked to be discharged on the promise of being induced the next day.  The weather was horrible that day and I'm glad today has been a bright sunny day, so unlike this time last year.

I've also been thinking of someone who did have her baby a year ago today.  If she's reading, I'm sorry.  I had intentions of posting a card through her door for her son but chickened out, she's probably the last person she wants to hear from. But I think of her often, of the horrid things I said, of the way she made me feel, of my own issues which I projected onto her and the childish way I acted.  And I'm sorry for all that.

I'm scared about how I might feel tomorrow.  I so want to enjoy the day, it is, after all, Woody's first birthday.  Something momentous, and joyous.  But I'm worried I'm going to have these niggling thoughts in the back of my mind.

Really, it's the 18th I should be worried about.  Maybe that's the day I should have my funk, enjoy Woody's day tomorrow, and be prepared for the sinking feeling come the 18th.

Woody was born at 11:47 (a time etched into my mind as it was the time I frequently woke in a cold sweat for weeks after his birth).  So really, the shit didn't hit the fan until the early hours on the 18th.  I should fear that date more.

And what is it I'm scared of?  I think the flashbacks.  They've been getting more frequent the last few days.  The things that happened, the way I felt, the things I told myself.  Like an out of/in body experience.  As in, I can clearly, vividly remember lying there, under the blanket, being attacked with needles.  And then of lying in HDU, the darkness of that ward, the painful surges of morphine through my veins.  It is vivid.  Really, fucking, vivid.  It's real.  It's become a really sad part of my life.

There are lots, LOTS of people who think I need to let go but I don't know how.  I am seeking help for that though.  I meet with a therapist on Friday to see if she's the right one to help me overcome not just this, but all the other things that have troubled me for the last 15 years of my life.  If she's not the right one, I will carry on searching as I have to fix myself.

On a brighter note, I'm working on some lovely things to share the rest of this week, time will tell whether I find the time to bring them to fruition.

I'm Still Here.... Just

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 28 April 2014

Hello, to my very few readers (and probably dwindling by the second with all my bad mood tweets and flare ups lately!)

I just wanted to say I am still here, but my PTSD and depression are taking me over at the minute and therefore I'm basically a piece of shit to everyone I encounter. Sorry about that, I don't mean it, I seem to have a horrible gremlin living inside me at the minute and I don't know how to get rid of it (if only it were a tapeworm....!)

I'm planning on following a couple of May writing/Instagramming prompts to hopefully make things a little more interesting around here.

In order to save my sanity I'm trying to keep away from Twitter at the minute but I will be spamming the shit out of it with my May posts.

I know I'm at the bottom again and that I'll come back up but it takes a little while and I have to concentrate hard (which is hard for someone who has a slight case of ADHD at times!)

Anyway, hopefully you'll join me for the hopefully Merry Month Of May.

Dear Scarlett, Happy 6th Birthday!

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 25 March 2014

Dear Scarlett,

Happy 6th Birthday!! My word, how time has flown. I cannot believe that six years ago I was getting ready to meet you, and at 12:34pm on 25th March 2008, you came feet first out of my tummy and into our lives. We have the photos. They're kinda gross!

You changed our lives in ways you cannot imagine. And both Daddy and I are incredibly proud of you. We tell each other most days how lucky we are to have such a bright, clever, helpful, funny little girl. Everyone loves being your friend. You're such a dude.

As I said last time, I know it hasn't been easy for you since Woody came along, he takes up a lot of our time now and he cries a LOT which can be very tedious. But he loves you so much, we can tell, you always get the biggest smiles and giggles from him. We're very proud of the way you've taken to being a big sister, we really cannot wait to see you grow up together.

You are going to get spoilt rotten today you little monkey, I can't wait to see you open your presents!! We've gone a little crazy this year as you've put up with quite a lot this year so far. Hope we're not setting a precedent!

I'm looking forward to coming to your school this morning to see the garden that you and Daddy made at the weekend and seeing the gardens of your classmates. I hope it hasn't all wilted overnight!

We'll do something special at the weekend, just the three of us, just like old times. Maybe we can go to the cinema and see the new Muppet film? It'll be totally your choice what we get up to.

Hope you have a lovely day at school,

Love,
Mum xx

Dear Woody, Sorry For the Delay

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 12 March 2014

I know a lot of you have been waiting for a Dear Woody post.

If truth be told I haven't really known where to start.  The problem is, if we were to start at the very beginning (which is a very good place to start), it all just feels too raw and scary still.

I know it can be really hard for some to understand what I went through.  It's not even about the fact that my uterus ruptured.  It's not even the fact that I thought I would die (well, it might be a little bit about that).  I feel absolute, all consuming sorrow when I think about Woody's actual 'birth'.  I often can't bring myself to say he was born, or even that I gave birth.  He was delivered. I refer to his birth as 'The Event'.  He was wrenched from me.

Again, I know that can be hard to understand, the idea of not having given birth.  "What does it matter?" you might ask.  Those who knew me whilst I was pregnant will know that I was VERY positive that I was going to have an amazing birth experience.  I was a total bloody hippy about it. Every time I visualised his birth, I imagined that glorious moment of all consuming love as he was placed on my chest, for skin to skin, and amazing, immediate bonding and the rushes of hormones we can only dream of.

But that didn't happen. And instead I am haunted, daily, by the image of his purple, lifeless body being plonked onto my tummy, the cord being cut and him being whisked over to the resuscitaire.  Where they began calling out numbers and times and saying things that scared the shit out of me, and Andy.

And then it goes hazy, because then I went into shock and my body started shutting down and I had to literally fight for my life.  And I couldn't concentrate on Woody.  There was nothing I could do for him at that point.  I just had to trust that the Doctors and midwives looking after him would make him better again.  Whilst I prayed they could do the same for me.  And then, I didn't see him until he was 36 hours old.  Bye bye hormones and glorious moment of birth and bonding.

I know, I really, REALLY know, people are just trying to gee me along and cheer me up and get me back on my feet when they tell me that I should be happy we survived, and to try to move on. I've suffered from depression before.  This isn't depression.  It feels deeper than that.  The hole I'm in feels darker, and deeper and more lonely some days.  Only some days, but on those days, there's not a lot anyone can say, just let me know that you're thinking of me.

I've discovered that birth trauma can be quite a lonely place.  People wanted to hear my story to begin with.  People were concerned, and shocked, and glad that I was alive and so was Woody.  That we were both doing okay.  I felt I was on a pedestal.  I've been called a hero.  I survived that.  I fought it.

But there comes a point where I've told everyone I know.  And I daren't talk any more.  Everyone has heard it.  I worry people are starting to grow bored of hearing me talk about it.  Even the counsellor at the hospital seemed uninterested this week (although a screaming Woody may have had something to do with it, it was a bit of a waste of time this week).

I don't know what I'm getting at with this post.  It's my usual rambly nonsense, and I hope I haven't offended any of you.  I just needed to let everyone know that I have days where I feel all consumed by what happened.  It's okay, I know that's hard to take.  It's hard to see someone you know and care about in pain, although mental pain is really hard to empathise with I know.  It's okay.  You don't need to say anything.  I know things like this make people feel uncomfortable, I get that.  I just need everyone to know I'm still hurting.  I will never get over it. Not fully. It may heal, but I will always carry with me the sense of loss I feel over the situation.

All that's left to say is to my darling boy, I am so glad we survived it baby, me and you kiddo. You're my hero.

Dear Scarlett - 5 years,11 months

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 25 February 2014

Dear Scarlett,

My darling girl. I cannot believe how grown up you are. Sometimes a little TOO grown up. Monday evening for example, you came in and immediately kicked off as I asked you to put your Rainbows uniform on. You're getting a little too good at the hand on hip, gesticulating with your chin! You do make us laugh, you are such a character, it's just a joy to be around you.

At the minute you're well aware that it's 28 days to your birthday and you keep asking me when your party is. Let me explain, mummy is not the go-to for maths. This question keeps requiring me to subtract 3 from the number I've already had to calculate. This hurts mummy's brain. Ask me about English or spelling, ask daddy about maths and science.

I watched you on Sunday and it made my heart swell. You know what you were doing? Putting on your socks. And it reminded me how amazing you are and that you can do so many things for yourself, and I think having Woody, who cannot do ANYTHING for himself yet, has reminded how awesome you are for being able to do so much. You are your own individual being.

This first dawned on me when you were about 19 months old. You had been walking a very short time but you soon became master of it. You came toddling in to the bedroom (at that time, we still shared the house with nanny, and we had a sofa and the big telly in the bedroom!) and you toddled passed the end of the sofa, this little blonde head, bobbing along independently. So independently. You've always been keen to assert your independence. And it was at that point that it really struck me, you were a proper little mini person.

Now, don't get me wrong, you'd been pretty damn awesome up to that point, but suddenly, it struck me that you were your own person. And that struck me again on Sunday.

You've had to be quite self sufficient the last few weeks, what with your little brother coming along, in slightly crazy circumstances. We will discuss these circumstances when you're a lot older! I admire you for mostly just taking it all in your stride. You've been ever so good at being patient, and I do not blame you for getting annoyed a few times, you have every right to.

My sweetpea, you've been our baby for more than 5 years, had our undivided attention. But this screaming Mr Grumpy Woody has come into the world and turned it all sideways. Not upside down. Just sideways. And you're taking it so well. He loves looking at you, you really are the most interesting thing in his world and daddy and I are SO excited to see you grow up together. Our precious sweetpeas. Two peas in a pod.

You're back at school today after half term break. You came home in tears from Rainbows as you're having trouble with another little boy at school. And it makes me so cross, we've been having trouble with this little boy for ages and you just do not deserve it.  You're such a kind, honest, funny little girl and you don't deserve some little sod hitting and kicking you.  I hope you can rise above it (although, you're too much like me and you're more likely to lash out, try and restrain yourself petal!)

You're doing ever so well at school, your spelling and writing is just brilliant (just like mummy!) but you need to get a bit better at reading.  That's our fault too - it's always such a rush after school, but it's no excuse!

Keep being your creative self. I know I complain about all the junk modelling everywhere when you've emptied the entire recycling bin to build a model of something, but it shows how incredibly imaginative and creative you are. For example, your Lenor hat from last week. You nut! So funny! And your drawings are always amazing, I love it when you draw us something. You're better than daddy and I at that!

I was never very good at finishing letters and it seems I'm still no better at it.  All I want to say is we love you and keep being you, because you're just fabulous.

All my Love,

Mummy x

Scarlett's Big Haircut

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 22 February 2014

Yesterday, Scarlett did something pretty momentous.  She had her hair cut off.  All of it (well, yknow, nearly all of it).

This is momentous for two reasons; Firstly, Scarlett has had her hair cut probably a total of 4 times in her nearly 6 years of life and secondly, she agreed to donate her hair to the Little Princess Trust so that her hair can be made into a wig for little girls who have lost theirs during cancer treatment. 

Andy had always been quite protective of Scarlett's hair, it took her a good 18 months to actually get any hair following a rather severe case of cradle cap and as it's gotten longer, it's also gotten darker, so the very tips of her hair really are the last of her baby blonde.  But, we'd all had enough of trying to brush out the tangles and I was fed up of the kids at school pulling her plaits out and it coming home looking like a bird's nest.  And it wasn't really much fun for Scarlett any more.

She woke up yesterday SO excited to be getting it cut and kept displaying where on her shoulders she wanted her new hair to come to.  In the end, it's gone a lot shorter than we'd anticipated but it really suits her and she is over the moon!

My mum bought her a Palace Pet from Build a Bear workshop, something that she can Treasure (literally, that's the name of the cat) forever and remember the day she had her hair cut off to donate to another little girl.

I am so immensely proud of her, she took it all in her stride, I think it's only as an adult perhaps that it hits you what it's going to mean to another little girl to have new hair.

I want to say a big thank you to Claire and her team at Blush & Co in Locksbottom for cutting Scarlett's hair and giving her a wonderful new style, she was spoilt rotten yesterday!

Well done Scarlett, my beautiful, grown up girl.

Debrief

This post was originally published on my self-hosted WordPress site.  For a whole host of reasons, that didn't work out so, ta-dah!  Back here.

Original post date: 20 February 2014

Well, I've sat here for 5 minutes trying to come up with a snappier title and failed miserably so there you have it, debrief. It is, after all, about my debrief.

On Tuesday afternoon (18th February 2014) we went to meet with the consultant who had seen me during labour and ultimately returned to put me back together again.  Lovely midwife was also there and I was so grateful that she had called to move my appointment to the end of a clinic as we ended up being there nearly 2 hours.

I didn't quite know what to expect.  We started talking simply about how I was feeling but we quickly moved on to the crux of the issue; was I given too much Syntocinon?

The simple answer was pretty much yes.  I was surprised how easily the consultant admitted it.  I had gone in there expecting them to want to cover themselves but as a friend pointed out to me, it's not worth their while and the NHS have learnt that honesty is the best policy in order to get people to trust you again.  I couldn't agree more.

They admitted that the Syntocinon should've been managed better.  I asked whether it was increased at the rate usual for a standard induction and the drug chart would support their admission that yes, it probably was.

I felt such relief, and relaxed so much.  They had confirmed what I had suspected.

I asked whether the Syntocinon had contributed to the rupture and they agreed it had.  Again, huge relief.  Whilst she couldn't say confidently that my uterus wouldn't have ruptured without it (because that is something we could never prove, nor would I want anyone to prove or hold anyone accountable for), she felt that it was certainly a major contributing factor.

I raised concerns that the midwife who looked after me that day wasn't very experienced and they agreed that a different midwife should've probably been assigned to me.  I feel sorry for the midwife in question, I think it just all went over her head a little bit.  To be fair to her, she followed procedures, she increased the Syntocinon the required amount, at the required times, but it should never have really been increased with me.  I was labouring quite well on the smaller amounts.  The consultant showed an emotion that suggested she knew this, and remembered having to ask for the Syntocinon to be turned down on two occasions.  By then the damage had begun however.

We also raised concerns that she wasn't very encouraging.  I mentioned that the only times she really spoke to me were to complain that she couldn't get a good enough trace on the baby or to ask why I hadn't had an epidural yet.  I said I found it really disheartening and that I didn't feel at all encouraged or supported in my decision to continue to breathe through my contractions, as I had planned and practised.  We mentioned she had pretty much said, "I told you you would need an epidural" when my resolve did eventually break.  We also raised that her continued faffing with the monitor had probably put the anaesthetist off and contributed to the epidural not being sited properly.  They were disappointed to hear all this.  They sort of shook their heads but didn't comment too much on it, just apologised that we felt this way.  I felt bad ratting out a midwife, but sometimes, you just have to be honest about the care you've received.

The consultant admitted that since my experience, she has made a point of writing, "Experienced Midwife needed during labour" on women's notes.  She said those in charge should read the notes and see the complexity of cases but in my case, they clearly didn't, so she makes a point of doing it now. I appreciate so much that new midwives need to learn things as they come up, and I'm sure VBAC's, especially induced ones, don't come up that often.  I would've much rather them say, I'm not confident in handling this, can I perhaps have some help from time to time.  Sort of like a CPD exercise almost.  At the same time, the ward was so busy there wasn't much room for anyone to assist or oversee fully.

I talked about how I felt about the whole thing; guilt, sorrow, anger. I said I felt embarrassed that despite all my research I still allowed myself to be submitted to a Syntocinon induction.  Above all else, that's the overriding thing I feel.  I knew it shouldn't have been done yet I submitted so willingly.  I think I was so determined to have my VBAC that I was maybe blind to the increased risk.  More fool me.

I talked about how I felt robbed of my chance to have a perfect birth.  That I often felt I didn't deserve hat had happened because I was so confident and positive about birth.  At this point I could see lovely midwife had teared up slightly.  We'd had many conversations about what I did and didn't want during labour whilst I was still pregnant and she was always so supportive.  She called me yesterday to follow up briefly and told me I should be proud that whilst it did go wrong in the end, I stood up for my rights and choices in birth.

I was pleased with how much they had clearly learnt from what went wrong with my case.  The whole team involved have had a debrief, especially as the consultant was concerned about them suffering from any after effects from witnessing what happened.  She is the personal mentor to the Dr who delivered Woody with the forceps and they have had a few conversations about the birth to understand what happened and what could be improved.

I asked whether I could ever class it as a successful VBAC since Woody was born vaginally.  She sort of smiled, then deadpanned; "No, nothing about this birth was a success!"  Other than the fact they saved me.  I'm here, and so is Woody.  It could've been a hell of a lot worse.

We really wanted to congratulate the whole team on how well they dealt with the emergency. Some day I really hope to see some of them again and thank them personally.  If any of them ever stumble across this little corner of the internet, thank you.  You saved my life and that of my baby and you should all be incredibly proud of the job you do.  I hope one day to join your ranks and continue the amazing work you do.

I mentioned that I was keen to carry on talking about my experience and should they ever want anyone to talk about rupture to students or midwives or whoever, I was really happy to be involved.  She said I should come and talk at one of their team meetings and so she's taken my number to try and get something arranged.  Which is exciting.  I'll get to rub shoulders with a whole room full of actual midwives (I'm a midwife fan girl, I'll admit it!!)

Andy and I came out and both agreed how relieved we felt.  I don't think we'd call it closure, I don't know if either of us will ever have closure on what happened.  It was the most traumatic thing we've ever been through, it has brought us closer together, Andy and I, I think we both have a new found respect for each other in a way, the things we both experienced that week.  But we felt very relieved and immensely grateful and thankful to everyone involved in helping put me back together again

Tuneful Tuesday: Follow Me, Follow You

I'm afraid this week's post has me teary eyed as much as last week's one did.

This week I have chosen a song which has meant quite a lot to me for some time.

It's no secret that I really quite like Genesis.  I want to do a full Tuneful Tuesday post dedicated to my special, sometimes secret, love for Genesis.  But they're very personal to me, and along with the Beatles and Pink Floyd, really are the soundtrack to my childhood.

The song I have chosen today however has me quite emotional every time I hear it.  For two main reasons.

Firstly, it reminds me of my dad.  I'm sure I recall dad singing along to it as a kid (I'm sure mum and dad will contradict me on that).  It was a song I really toyed with having as I walked 'down the aisle' (or rather, across the courtyard) on my wedding day.  This was my plan, until I realised dad and I would be in tears by the time we got to the barn and so I dispensed with the idea.  Something I sort of regret.  The first verse in particular has me in tears.

Secondly, it was on the radio whilst I was in hospital.  I was on the postnatal ward, and over night they had Magic or some similar radio station playing in the office.  I was having my obs done at some point when I heard the strains of this drifting across the ward.  I laughed, and had to explain to the midwife why.  She didn't seem to understand, but hearing it faintly just comforted me so much.

Looking Back/Looking Forward - 2nd February 2014

I'm linking up rather late this week with Hannah's TWTWC (We've had a very busy few days...)

Looking Back

We had quite a busy week last week.  We have finally got our house on the market (I say finally, it's actually only taken 2 weeks from the decision being made to us signing with an agent) so the week has been mostly filled with tidying and de-cluttering.

I managed to do the school run twice last week in the run up to this week which is basically the start of the daily morning school run.  Scarlett will continue to go to after school club for the time being - she enjoys it and has lots of friends there and it's better than coming home and listening to Woody cry!

My hospital notes arrived on Wednesday and made interesting reading.  Nothing we didn't already know though, but it has been really good to put a timescale back on what happened - my sense of time had completely disappeared.

Wednesday also saw Woody's hip scan at the hospital.  I felt slightly strange as it was my first trip back to the hospital since Woody was born, thankfully a different building and it wasn't as bad as I had imagined.  Woody was very well behaved for his scan and I'm pleased to report he's had the all clear.

My lovely friend Emma took me and Woody to Ikea on Thursday where I bought things I shouldn't have done (isn't it like the law to go to Ikea and come out with unnecessary purchases?!)  Andy had taken the car seat adaptors with him in his car so this was Woody's first trip out in the big boy seat on the pushchair, he seemed comfy enough but I wish we had a cosy toes for it.

The biggest news of all is that I'm driving again! Watch out Worcester Park, Stirling Moss is back behind the wheel!  Woooohooooooo!!

On Saturday my friends Jo and G came down for the afternoon.  Unfortunately I'd been suffering since Friday with a terrible ache in my tummy and by Saturday afternoon I was in agony - I had to leave my poor friends in charge of a screaming Woody for a bit until Andy came back from a children's party to take him off their hands!!  But they came bearing awesome gifts - Jo has proved herself to be rather good in the craft department and made us a Scrabble letters frame with our names and G gifted Woody with his very first Threadless tshirt.  My friends rock.

Sunday was a day of partial rest (we've started using these vented bottles from Tommee Tippee and they seem to be working wonders for Woody, he's back to a regular 3-4 hour routine which meant on Saturday night we had nearly 8 hours sleep (minus an hour for Andy as he did the 3am feed!).  We had a lazy morning in bed followed my a manic afternoon of tidying and boxing stuff up ready for photos to be taken of the house on Monday.  Weekends are always best when rounded off with a trip to Pizza Express. Perfick.

Even more photos this week....

Clockwise from Main:

• Sleep deprivation gets the better of us and we resort to finding this possibly the most hilarious thing ever.

• Scarlett was off school on Monday with a 'tummy ache' (I think we'd had a terrible night with Woody).  Nevermind, cuddles and Up were a good prescription.

• We made it to Sainsbury's on the bus!

• My hospital notes.

Clockwise from Main:

• This costume was reduced in Saino's and I literally couldn't exist - I want one in my size!

• Woody in his big boy pushchair seat at Ikea.

• After nearly 7 weeks of not driving, I'm finally back behind the wheel - my first trip was a 90 minute amble round the countrysidey areas near us in an attempt to get Woody to sleep and give Andy a solid chunk of sleep (90 minutes, wowee, don't have too much!!)

Our awesome Scrabble picture with our names made by my super friend Jo - Can't wait to move to give it a permanent home, for now, it's next to the tv.

Woody's first Threadless tee from Mr G.  It's a little big for him at the minute, but it should fit him towards the Summer I hope.

Clockwise from Main:

• Chillaxing in bed on Sunday morning - we definitely need a bigger bed, Andy and I are clinging to the edge!

• Woody choosing his first Pizza Express dinner!

• My boys

Looking Forward

I'm hoping for a slightly calmer week this week.  I've had a horrible cough and cold and my tummy has been so sore from coughing - I'm bending myself double to protect my scar and it's starting to hurt!  So I'm going to just take it easy, shame I have to be up and out every morning for the school run but hey ho, it's exercise and I desperately need that at the minute.

I'm not really sure if I have a goal this week.  I like to set myself a goal, really I just want to get through the week without spending any more money!!  It's only the 4th and already I'm basically out of money (I'm so crap at budgeting!)

Hope you all have a good week!

Tuneful Tuesday: You Got the Love

I've been wanting to write this post for a few weeks now.

I don't want to say too much about it.  I loved the version which was released in the 1990s with Candi Staton.  However it's the Florence+The Machine version I'm sharing with you today.

The day I was discharged from hospital, December 22nd 2013, it was on the radio as we drove home.

The lyrics seemed to reflect precisely how I felt about Andy and his support in the preceding week.  Tears came and poured, silently.  Scarlett asked what was wrong with Mummy.  Andy told her I was just relieved; relieved to finally be out of hospital and on my way home.  It's true, I was so relieved and so very thankful for Andy, Scarlett and Woody.

I haven't listened to this since then.  It felt too raw, it still does feel too raw.  Listening to the lyrics again I want to offer them up to Andy; it's true, all the words are true, they really reflect how thankful I am for him and his love and helping me get through an experience I will never fully recover from, in many ways.

Looking Back/Looking Forward - 26th January 2014

As part of my new weekly feature where I look back at the week and look forward to the week ahead I'm linking up with Hannah over at Make, Do and Push! for her The Week That Was Captured #TWTWC feature again.

Looking Back

Another up and down week in terms of recovery, I have to learn that just because I feel better does not mean I should start bending down to put washing in the machine and least of all lift Woody's pram into my parents giant car (lesson learnt there...!)

I managed to do one school run last week which was an achievement, felt very good when I got back from that.

I also managed something quite momentous on Thursday which was to get out on the bus with Woody into Worcester Park.  I had a bit of a paddy first thing in the morning when I realised Andy had my bank card.  My original plan had been to get the bus to Sainsbury's.  With hindsight, heading to WP was probably the better idea as  it meant I wasn't heading back laden down with shopping (I would've gone to Sainsbury's and ended up buying too much stuff - being payday the cupboards were bare, the temptation would've been too great to basically do a big shop!!)  I was especially proud as I would never have gotten the bus into WP or Sainsbury's when I wasn't pregnant.  Even when I didn't have the car, I would've just stayed in rather than break a sweat!  So it's especially pleasing that I did it 5 weeks after the 'event' and with Woody in tow!

Lots of photos this week...

Clockwise from Main:

• Woody having a little sit on the sofa - we had comments that he either looked like my dad or Phil Mitchell....

• Little rabbit slippers that I finally put him in - it's funny, we buy all these little things (he also has a tan pair of mocassins!) and yet, they're not necessarily that practical (a post for another time!)

• I've developed a bit of an obsession with matching my bibs (Funky Giraffe, can highly recommend) with my muslins (M&S, again, really quite good)

• Andy 'helping' with the washing - in reality I had literally dumped all the tumbling onto him so that I could sort it all out!

Clockwise from Main:

• Our little Scarlett, doing what she does best - junk modelling.  Bane of my life as the kitchen is covered in bits of sellotape and scraps of card, but she's happy doing it. She's such an arty child, I think she gets that from me.  We need to spend more time with her, I feel awful for saying it but Woody has taken over more than we expected.  I'd love to be able to spend an entire day with her, just doing what we used to, cinema, Pizza Express lunch.  Just some dedicated Scarlett time.

• Woody is getting a bit too big for his Moses basket already I think.  I've bought a couple of sleeping bags for him as I think we're going to make the cot transition in the next week or so.  Might also help with him a routine?!

• The sling.  Note it says, One size fits most, on the box.  Size 24 obviously isn't most as it doesn't fit me and is going back...

Clockwise from Main:

• Woody on the bus!! With my lovely Lin&Leo changing bag.  Still so proud we managed this!

• Woody in the sling. He was quite comfy but we got terribly warm together and after just 10 minutes he was all sweaty and I wonder if that's because it was a bit snug on me.  It's a shame but I'm looking into getting a stretchy wrap instead.

• Walking bag from the bus stop (via the corner shop for a celebratory can of Irn Bru....

So, that was our epic week, how was yours?

Looking Forward

This week I really need to try and take it slightly easier!  I really did do too much a couple of times this week and really left myself feeling terrible.  I saw the Dr on Friday and she was quite cross at me for lifting the changing bag, let alone anything else!  Andy has also been very cross with me at various points for lifitng and bending, so I really need to learn to just take it easy!  I think school and back is probably the most I should attempt this week.  I also need to eat much better as I've had indigestion so bad on a couple of occasions this week I've been writhing in agony!

I'm looking forward to seeing friends this week, we've got various visitors due this week so that's fun.

We'll also be advancing our future plans and hopefully getting the ball rolling there.

Woody has his hip scan on Wednesday afternoon so happy thoughts for that would be great.  Scarlett did not enjoy hers so I'm not looking forward to it with Woodster.

Have a good week everyone!