Prosecco and a newborn: And I deserved every sip
This week, so-called “slummy mummies” have come in for a bit of a lambasting.
Authors of books such as Hurrah for Gin and the Unmumsy Mum (who I adore) have been decried by a national newspaper for sharing their exploits of feeding their toddlers frozen fish fingers, swigging gin from baby cups and potty mouthed ranting about their kids online.
Which, as a mama and coming hot on the heels of mental health awareness week, rather makes my blood boil.
Being a mum is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I ADORE being a mother. Sonny Jim is truly all my oh-so-long awaited dreams come true. But I’m not superwoman – try as I may. Continue reading
‘That smile gets me through’ – Llydia Bannocks with partner Graham and Blossom Primrose
Picture by: www.fionakennedy.co.uk
Imagine having a condition that masquerades as several other illnesses.
For those living with Lupus – an incurable immune illness, mainly suffered by females – it’s a reality and part of the reason that diagnosis can take so long.
Hairdresser Llydia Bannocks, 37, of Ironwell Close, Rochford was diagnosed with Lupus in 2007, after two years of debilitating symptoms and misdiagnosis.
Llydia recalls: “I suffered everything from severe fatigue and hair loss to extreme pain in joints mimicking flu, an enlarged lymphatic system, intense rashing in the sun, corn beef looking pattern to the skin on my legs…
“I was extremely fit and active prior to my Lupus manifesting. I would go to the gym at least five times a week, work reasonably long hours without breaks and feel absolutely fine. Continue reading
So lucky: My wonderful baby boy
Tomorrow will be my first Mother’s Day as a mama. I am beyond thrilled to be able to type that.
But as wonderfully special as the day will be for me, there are so many, many women for whom the day is the hardest of the year.
Before Sonny Jim, even though I’m lucky enough to still have my wonderful ma, I disliked this day. I waited nine years for my baby. Spent more than five of those years under various hospitals, undergoing tests and procedures, being stabbed with hundreds of needles, pumped full of different hormones and then constantly disappointed. Mothering Sunday became a day when scrolling through my Facebook feed felt a bit like death by a thousand papercuts. All those gorgeous babies snuggled up to their mamas. All those cute kids with their homemade creations. It hurt. More than I can explain. Continue reading
The pictures behind a single snap: Getting nice photos of babies is actually not that easy!
Posting pictures of your baby online – along with posting pictures of your pregnancy scans – can be a bit of a divisive subject.
Some are vehemently anti it – look at their Facebook/Twitter/Instagram page and you’ll find little trace of their little folk. Others share *literally* everything. On a daily basis you’ll know what the little mite has had for breakfast, lunch, dinner, every single activity they’ve been involved in, and quite possibly their bowel movements too.
I make no apology for being a bit of a #babybore (though with the exception of my husband and my NCT mummy chums I have never felt the need to keep people updated on how many poops Sonny Jim has had – yet.)
My perfect post-pregnancy outfit
When one of your husband’s best friends is getting married just seven weeks after you’ve given birth, figuring out what to wear is something of a challenge.
It’s not like it’s worth buying something while you’re still pregnant because, let’s face it, you’ve got no idea what your post-baby figure is going to look like. And yes, you’ve got loads of nice frocks in your closet, but who wants the spectre of your pre-pregnancy size eight clothes looming that large that soon after a little person has vacated your being. Why put yourself in that I-can’t-get-it-over-my-bum-let-alone-zip-it-up hell any sooner than you need to? Which leaves you shopping for something new. With a newborn. And your baby belly still very much in evidence. Which is *not* the kind of thing shopping trip dreams are made of. Continue reading
So at 37 weeks pregnant Baby Pearson is considered full-term (even though I’ve got a few weeks left till my due date – Easter Monday if you’re wondering!)
And I’ve somehow reached this point with hardly any photos at all of me and bump.
Me and Bump: On the cliffs in Leigh-on-Sea
Me and Bump: Having a rest on a cliff-top bench
Me and Bump: A windy day in Chalkwell
Me and Bump: I’m carrying all at the front
When I was first pregnant I planned to take a picture every month and chart how my bump was growing…but I’m a real worrier and I didn’t want to tempt fate in the early days when the chances of a miscarriage are high. And then once we’d got past those worrisome early weeks it seemed strange to start that at four months. Especially as I barely had a bump at all until about six months (yes, I did actually moan about it at the time – I know better now.) Continue reading