Happy New Year

2016 for us has been an incredible year, with various highs and lows but it has been a step in to a direction, I never imagined going or even doing. When I entered 2016, unsure if I’d be able to achieve any of the things I set up in my mind to do.

There are many things I didn’t achieve, like publish another book, I start or continue work on them, then I lose confidence.

Confidence plays a huge part in my life, and to be frank – it pisses me off. It holds me back so much, anxieties also cloud so much of the things I want to do. I try really hard to push it down, but then it rears its ugly head again, then I am sunk. It gets dark, so dark at times I fear I’ll never see the light. Times where I have wanted to give up the things I love, because my crazy brain focuses too much on the negatives and failing. It gets too heavy. I hide it well. I’m lucky to have a husband and the children to lift me up, when I fall. They don’t see me fall or need to either. They are my light.

I’d completed a Breast Feeding Peer Support Training course at the beginning of the year, it was an incredibly inspiring course. I found new aspects of grief towards the loss of our daughter, things I had never really thought of. Stuff that if I tried to explain, it wouldn’t be right, or understood in the way only my heart and mind can comprehend. It was also a little turning point in my grief journey. I spoke about her, a piece of her story that is painful, I didn’t cry. The only point I cried was when I was hit by a trigger, a missed memory, tiny for some but a huge one for us.

I loved every minute. However confidence, anxieties I guess hit, put everything on hold, the friends I had made during the course, I took a step back from. Nothing on them, but the ridiculous fear I have of trusting anyone new. I need a comfort zone, but then my feet freeze, my whole body freezes, rather that put my trust in new people I back the hell a way. Which in turn causes me to feel lonely. I hate that, I hate feeling that way. The walls are built for a reason, but sometimes they build too high and even I can’t lower them.

This is definitely something I need to work on. I need to make my personal space bigger, and have more people behind the barrier, lower the barrier and trust more. Forget the people who handed me the bricks.

This is certainly something I say every year to work on, to leave the people who cause me tears in the past..no matter who they are. I really am not that bad a person.

I’m not.

2016, the launch of the baby loss group I had pieced together finally came together, it has been slow..the support has been minimal, where again there has been times where I could have easily said fuck it all. But I am stubborn, sheer determination, it’ll work. I have done online support, I know I can do it. Which in turn will bring a whole new course in 2017, to help more people, to ensure the right care is given, to let no-one feel lost and alone. It brought my Butterfly Award nomination, for writing, I was/am unbelievably touched to have been a part of. To see friends share the links and vote multiples of times. To spend an evening with truly inspirational families and an evening away alone with my husband; the first time in years. Dressed up in “posh gear”, it was perfect. I of course didn’t win, I never expected to – I did do really well in the voting stage, that alone makes me feel incredibly proud, to have, to know people care particularly Melody’s memory.

With the nomination I had the opportunity to speak on the radio, which was great. Two lots of public speaking to raise awareness of the group, sadly the groups were either full of uninterested pen pushers, or people who pretended to want to know…or at least that is exactly what it felt like. I see it as they were only practice audiences, the people of interest will want to make a difference, and not bow their heads. They will be the ones to shine through.

I achieved something I never thought I would due to confidence, spoke in a room full of strangers, not only to the Town Council and a local business group. But I also took part in a study day for Midwives, to share Melody’s journey, from bump to rainbow. It was an absolute honour to have been part of it, I’m hoping for more, and to arrange my own type of awareness day. The group brought an invitation to meet The Archbishop of Canterbury. That was certainly an incredible experience, he was so easy to speak to, and not only this he listened, and I think he would have listened longer had we more time. That was one of my favourite hi-lights of the year.

 

 

We’ve had wonderful family outings and adventure days out. I feel so incredibly lucky to have the people who do stick around and have patience in my life.

As the years have gone by people come and go, if they matter they’ll never leave your side.

My relationship with baby C has gotten so much better, I don’t get as frustrated with her as I did when she was first born, (when I say frustrated I mean I would cry in the bathroom feeling completely helpless, but at the same time guilty for feeling like a useless mum, that I’d caused her discomfort) she was suffering terribly with allergy reactions, she is so much like Melody, I was scared to love her to the full extent of my role. I’ve always loved her, of course I have. But it hard to cope, post HG how sick I was with her and how much it effected me.

It is so hard to explain, there were days I was unsure on whether or not she even liked me, while I struggled to like myself in the situation. But I am pleased we’re doing great. As I said before I hide things very well.

 

I am looking forward to the next year, the next chapter. I have no idea what it’ll bring. I’ve not set any goals or any real resolutions, because it will make every thing real and easy to avoid. If I want to achieve anything, I can’t keep on avoiding the things that scare me.

 

A big thank you to every single dedicated fool who took the time, and stuck this shit out with me.

 

 

 

Happy New Year. 

The Wet Wipe Diaries.

Don’t forget to follow me.

 

Christmas 2017 shopping has begun…

 

 

 

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New Year’s Resolutions

Same old shit, different year.

To loose weight.

To be kind to others.

To write more.

Be more organised.

Become a Domestic Goddess.

Well, let’s face it, the turn of the year isn’t going to change me, although I wish it would.

By the end of January I usually fail miserably at one or all of the endless lists of resolutions.

Of course I would love to lose weight, but then when I feel like shit I eat, crisps mainly..chocolate is out due to having a CMPA daughter, who I am still breastfeeding. And have you tried the dairy free stuff? Definitely not Cadbury’s I can tell you.

I even say to myself, I won’t make any resolutions this year, but surely that is a resolution itself, I fail at that too.

The writing more is the one I really would like to succeed in, I have so many ideas in my head, note pads full of ideas, I really need to put together and make something of them.

Whose idea was it to make resolutions, and to think they work?

Maybe I am the only one who fails at them.

What is your New Year’s Resolutions? Do you stick to them?

If so, How do you keep to yours?

Off to dust off the Jillian Michaels DVD…

At least the cleaning part can be ticked off the list.

 

 

 

Be kind, don’t wait. 

As the news has filtered through over the past 24 hours about the death of George Michael.  The media coverage,  the announcements of just what an amazing human being he was, kind and giving.  Of course his talent, he may not have been to everyone’s liking but he was still well loved.  

Anyway my point.  Over this guy’s lifetime, famous or not, people… The papers, general public didn’t see far past the life style he had or of his sexuality and as years have moved forward all stigmas remained, yet now after he has passed away the good things about his life, the wonderful things are now being announced, the media, the public who berated him are focusing on this man’s kind soul.  

This isn’t how it should be,  in celebrities, in everyday people like me.  People are too quick to judge, to give an opinion on the bad things in people’s lives.  But if a person does something good it’s often easily forgotten, it shouldn’t be.  Life is far too short, which 2016 has proven, nobody is immune from death or grief.  

Mistakes can be life changing and hard to forget or miniscule and probably should be forgotten.  

I think,  we all need to look for the good in people whilst they’re still alive,  be kind to everyone we meet.  Be remembered in life and not just in death.  Apologies or compliments are no use to anyone once we’re gone.  

“You Can’t Have That”

In the Summer of 2015 when Calliope was about 6 weeks old, I took the decision to stop my dairy intake. She had pretty much screamed from the moment she arrived, and continued until roughly 5 months old. She had developed baby acne as little as 12 hours post birth, was sick after every feed (breastfed), belly ache, awful bouts of nappy rash and poos and of course the non-stop screaming.

 

Taking her to our GP, I was simply told that babies cry…

I chatted to some breastfeeding experts via online (online really can be a magical place), when I then took the Dairy Free route, within days her skin cleared up, she was still very much crying, but there was time of relax, she was beginning to differ, which was when I chose to get a second opinion, explained what had been happening, it was then agreed she wasn’t just “a crying baby”, we were referred to a dietitian. We also found things with wheat and gluten aggravated her, made her sick and the belly ache too.So  I eliminated that from my diet too. But this was temporary and just over a year old she seemed to be able to tolerate the new diet.

At 18 months old after failing the Milk Ladder at step two, we’re currently awaiting our next appointment with our dietitian.

That was the tiny background about our dairy free journey.

The thing that strikes me is the lack of tolerance (pardon the pun) people can have in regards to allergies and small children. (Although I presume it would be the same for adults). It certainly hasn’t been a life style choice, no swapping or changing like having no meat one month, and then 50 bacon sandwiches the next.

“Is she over that yet?” Repeatedly, that accompanied with the eye roll when you tell people that Soya, which was once an ok thing to have, is now a no, no.

“It is Christmas, one chocolate won’t hurt.”

Having to disappoint your 18 month old, as she sits and watches her siblings eat the Dairy Milk Selection box destined for her. “I’m sorry you can’t have that”.

You see, the cheese, the chocolate, the sip of milk will hurt her. The reactions can be unpredictable but at best the reactions comes out as a form of acne, or a stinky mucous nappy, that burns her. But then there is the awful tummy ache, the crying in pain that comes with it, the wheezy chest, the shortness of breath. It is miserable for her and is worrying for us as her parents to sit back and watch. As most of the time, we’re told to ride it out, there isn’t a lot else we can do, well at least we haven’t been told if there is anything else.

There have been questions as to whether my HG medication may have unsettled her tummy, which for me adds to the guilt of causing this for her, so if I need to be strict and come across rude, it is only because I need to protect her.

It has certainly been an eye opener, in particular how hard it has been, in coping. I remember shutting myself in the down stairs toilet crying, because she was crying in pain again, I felt useless, I felt to blame. For this is one reason I am very grateful to have had a baby carrier. It helped us both.

It isn’t just a case of not being able to have this or that, but what goes on behind the scenes the struggles parents have, the tears people don’t see behind closed doors.

We’re lucky to only have a couple of things which don’t agree with her.

Please remember if an allergen is a no, for every single day of the year, then it’ll be the same at Christmas. Think.

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(Taken back in the Summer).

 

We didn’t choose this, I hope one day she’ll grow out of it.

 

The Wet Wipe Diaries

 

 

 

Tired

2am. Sat watching Grey’s Anatomy again.

 Right now feels like every single thought I’ve ever had,particularly in recent years has entered my head. Nothing is leaving my head. 

I’m tired,yet my brain won’t let me sleep,when I get too tired anxieties reach up and tap me on the shoulder, embeds itself and makes a home. 

I hate this crap.I let things bother me far too much. The lack of backbone I have at times is weakening. 

I’ve lived through the death of my daughter, although it’ll never be over,yet I let stupid little things enter my head. Things,people who do not deserve my energy wasted on them.

I’m not perfect,my past isn’t perfect either, but I really am trying to better myself, I feel so good about what 2016 brought me. (I’ll review it shortly). Yet I continue to let school yard shit beat me. 

I’m better than that, I’m better to let the being left out in the cold bring me down. I am better than to let anyone make me feel less than perfect, not good enough to be around. 

I already beat myself with that regularly enough. 

I need to fight through this heavy feeling,because right now I feel like I’m drowning, I need air. Fresh new air. I need to not feel heavy.

I’m broken, but I’m not beaten..

The Wet Wipe Diaries.

Breastfeeding Gymnastics

I have been incredibly lucky with my breastfeeding journey.

It  began slowly at the start of my Motherhood journey, with my eldest being in Special Care for a week, our journey lasted only nine days, but it was still nine days. I had a two year with top up relationship, five week pumping journey, when our dear little girl was with us; once she died I was determined to make breastfeeding work with any baby who would come after her.

Her little sister fed until she was around 3 years old, I tandem-ed with our youngest, who is still going at 18 months, with no signs of stopping.

I’m not here to go all inspirational, tell you how breast is best and all that, because it isn’t that simple

I shall tell you a little something the books miss…

Boobie gymnastics.

Boogie Boobies.

Protective (double) Boobies.

All You Can Eat Boobies

What are these about??

My other children, especially the now 3 year old would cuddle in and be cosy for their feeds. I had, up until now with our youngest and last baby I assumed all of the above were normal. Sleepy cuddles, even more so as she’s our final baby.

Aside from her rocky start with dairy and wheat allergies (Wheat has been outgrown thankfully), she was that cuddly baby,(albeit very loud). Then she discovered limbs. Her legs and arms are hers and that they move. Flailing around as if she’s in the middle of a dance floor..except she isn’t.

She is busting a move, making the most peculiar bodily shapes, all whilst still attached to the breast. My breasts…nipple area have never been moved the way they have with the tiniest. Feet in my face, feet on my face, feet everywhere. Did you know Nipples are actually quite flexible?! Neither did I!

Heaven forbid if the 3 year old comes near them, she occasionally still likes skin contact, poor girl gets “attacked” by the littlest person. Whilst feeding from one. bubba needs to be holding onto the other, feet wrapped around it too..

For a moment, I can no longer see my beautiful little girl, but an Octopus. Hands pulling at my glasses,(why the glasses, every day?) to make me blind, an easy target. Fingers in my mouth, feet somehow entwined in my hair, my arms wrapped around her to ensure she doesn’t fall. I’m captured. She then slithers over to the other boob, in the hope there’s more, only for 30 seconds later she needs to return to the first boob. (This is often repeated).Exposed in the cold air, pinned under this tiny creature. She begins to settle, limbs begin to loosen their hold. I’m able to reach my glasses, returning them to my face I can now see the beautiful girl, sound asleep, tired and milk drunk. Dreaming of more..

Every day I question just how much longer I can do this for?

The fidgeting.

The round the clock hourly to two hourly feeds.

The bonding the feeding has helped me with.

The windy smile.

The bright eyes staring up at me from behind my breast.

My answer..

For a long as she wants it.

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The Wet Wipe Diaries

New To You

I was originally with WordPress, almost three years ago I found a moment in my life where I needed to move on, which I have found the perfect place for the blog I use to speak of my bereavement, but I’ve never really been overly happy with my “every day” blog. With so much competition out there, I kind of started to scrape the barrel for things to write down.

That can’t do, because writing is one of my favourite things; it has been right from being a child, as I hit adulthood, it was deemed ‘boring’ or something to use to make fun of me. If I felt troubled one of the first things I would have done would have been to pick up a pen an doodle, of course this is how my blogging journey began in the first place was my awful pregnancy with Melody..a self published book, and a Butterfly Award Nomination later, I can’t be that shit.

I won’t be full pelt blogging until after Christmas, it is family time, I’d like to plan and schedule some posts too.

Once the New Year arrives, new year, new start and that rubbish.

So there we have it.

Fresh new post

 

The Wet Wipe Diaries

xx