Teething Struggle

5am wake up call. Teething 7 month old. Coil checkup. Day 4 of eating healthy… This is not the best combination.

I’m feeling like an absolute hero right now. Call me super mum. He’s finally asleep. I’m so glad that Pete was home or I might have spent the day silently sobbing and eating the whole pack of spirals in the cupboard and all the cheese in the fridge.

It’s better then when he was a few months old and teething, when he would just scream for hours at a time and I’d be stuck relentlessly dancing around my house pretending I was in strictly and feeling I was in hell. I was always scared I was going to OD him on Calpol, teething powders and Anbesol liquid. Now I don’t give it a second thought and dose him right up. Although, now when he’s in pain he won’t let me hold and rock him. I can’t hold him at all without him flinging himself backwards, to which I always panic I’m going to drop him because he’s an absolute tank.

Who knew a 7 month old could throw a paddy!? Like, I thought this happened at the “terrible 2” age, but nope, Edwin has gotten in there early. If I move the remote out the way, if I move my phone out of his reach, if I have he audacity to smile at him when he’s playing alone or sing to him. So now I watch whatever Edwin has put on the TV, and my phone is constantly covered in baby dribble. 

Luckily, I didn’t have to take him into the nurses room with me to get my coil checked today. Unlike when I had it fitted when he was in the pram next to the bed I was laid on, my legs spread open, and Edwin decided to cry, so im singing “you are my sunshine” while a nurse is all up in my vag. Oh and during which, when her fingers were fully roaming around she told me I had a “long vagina”. Lovely.

The day didn’t get easier when I got home and started to crash. Healthy eating is not good for you when you have a baby who needs you to be constantly weird and fun and literally a CBeebies presenter. In my desperation I got into bed with him and sang “twinkle twinkle little star”, while screaming in my head “please sleep you beautiful horrible little twat”, obviously this failed miserably so we went back downstairs and played with my phone. Which is why I have allowed myself, for the sake of being the best parent I can be for my child tomorrow, to eat all the carbs. All of them. Did you know beer is a carb? It’s the wheat. So we need it in order to entertain our beautiful and demanding children. 

Only another few years of teething though and then I’ll not have to deal with a whiny, devil child again, right?

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Pregnancy and Labour Struggle

Happy Mothers Day!

Never thought I’d be celebrating this as a mother myself. Being a mum is the most challenging and rewarding thing I have done all at once which is such a mind fuck.

Only recently I have actually felt like a real mum. All the way through my pregnancy I didn’t feel like one, I know it’s weird to say but I kinda felt embarrassed… I can’t explain why I just felt alien. When people commented on my growing bump it made me feel sick. I hated my body I wasn’t ready for the changes it went through.

I didn’t feel the connection to my bump. When he first kicked me I felt gross. I didn’t want to feel it again. I got used to it and videoed the movements but I didn’t find it magical.

I was excited to meet him. But I think I was more excited about not being pregnant anymore and getting my life back (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA).

Edwin was breech which was undetected until I went to the maternity ward after having contractions all night. I wanted a water birth but after examiniation I was told I wasn’t in active labour (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?), and an ultrasound I was told I would be having an emergency cesarean. I was actually relieved.

I felt a bit nervous but I was actually so glad I wasn’t going to be in pain much longer, little did I know the recovery is a right bitch. 

After a lot of tugging they annouced his birth and laid him on the table near my head. All I remember was the smell, he smelled so beautiful, which is weird since he probably just had my fanny juice all over him.

I felt love. But I didn’t feel that overwhelming feeling everyone went on about. What was wrong with me? Literally just a self centered bitch. Even on the ward afterwards, when Pete was cooing over him and my family came to see him I just felt.. empty. I loved my baby but I just felt… detached? 

That first night on the ward I was not prepared for. So fucking lonely. So fucking clueless. One midwife was my saviour. She helped me walk to the toilet and changed my massive pad. Then got me back to bed and changed Edwin. He hadn’t had his nappy changed since he was born. I felt like a complete failure. 

I just felt like a fraud. For the first two months I just felt like I was living a lie thinking I could raise this baby which came out of me somehow.

I can’t remember how or when it changed. Writing this makes me feel guilty that I ever felt that way. 

Now I look at my Edwin and my heart aches. He’s literally my best friend. He has changed my life for the better and I struggle to remember how I was ever happy without him in it. When I was pregnant all I thought about was how my life was over and how fucking wrong was I!?

So don’t worry if you didn’t have an instagram perfect pregnancy. Or you didn’t relate to the overwhelmingly happy and loved up quotes. I didn’t either. Doesn’t make us bad mums or heartless. It makes us human. And it doesn’t matter how we got through it all, one thing is for sure, we bloody love our children more than anything in this shitty world. 

Post Pregnancy Pants Struggle

I don’t really have anything to rant about this week. Pete has been off so it’s been an absolute dream after doing this parenting thing on my own Monday – Friday for the past 4 months!!

This in turn has made Edwin like the happiest baby ever – erm I’ll try not to take it personally that he’s difficult when it’s only me and him. 

Today I thought I’d get some new underwear. I thought it was time to ditch the 2x 5 pack of HUGE black pants which go up to my boobs which my mum got me after my cesarean. Also the nursing bras which didn’t serve their purpose because I couldn’t deal with the pain of breastfeeding which I’ll forever regret, but that’s a different story for another post.

ANYWAY. Got all this beaut underwear, some matching and everything all size “L” to be on the safe side, only to get home and try them on and find the big granny pants were fooling me into thinking I was ready for nice kickers cause my overhang is fucking repulsive. 

So now I’m sat watching a documentary on Fred and Rose west, drinking beer and eating giant packets of crisps because I literally couldn’t give a shit. I read somewhere is takes women’s bodies up to 3 years to recover from pregnancy and labour anyway so I have that long to get rid of it! No rush :). 

Welcome To My Struggle

I’m starting a little late with a “mummy blog”. I’ve been busy trying to come to terms with the fact I am actually a mum. Like seriously!? I’m a mum. ME.
I’m only just starting to feel like a real life mum because Edwin is more responsive and he reaches out for me and touches my face and my heart explodes.

Those first months are really trying aren’t they? I just felt like a complete failure, like I was kidding myself to ever think I could actually do this. The cesarean threw me, wasn’t expecting to be cut open and then sent home with a tiny human I’d made and not be able to pick him up or be there for him.

I think I cried everyday. Stalking other mums on my Facebook to check I was normal. But no one else posted about bad stuff, which is totally understandable. But I want to post about the nights you scream into your pillow, and the time you called your baby a dickhead for keeping you up all night , then giving you a smile before sleeping at 7am then crying to yourself because you’re the worst mother in the universe.

I’m Aimee and I’m a first time mum. Welcome to my struggle.