Back in Gibraltar now and the days have been super busy, which is why this blog post is a week late. Sorry! Alas, time in the sun and catching up with family and friends has taken priority over sitting at my laptop and writing… at least temporarily. Plus I’ve been studying.

I had a few things I wanted to write about, and thinking about them alongside plotting my plans and priorities for this summer; I realised that I have lots of ideas and an image of myself in my head that I have swayed from. And so, I have decided that I am revamping my blog! It’s a little like getting a new style haircut or deciding that even though you like the style, it’s a little unruly and so reshaping is required.

***

Over 2 years ago my mum introduced me to Elephant Journal on Facebook and through their newsletters, often emailing me interesting articles on yoga and diet. In August 2016, encouraged by mum, I decided that though I wasn’t writing anything other than my personal diary, I would sign up to EJs social media and journalism apprenticeship. I started early September, before going back to university and I loved it! It was very time-consuming and the balancing act that I had to play between my apprenticeship, and everything else I was doing did prove difficult, but it taught me a lot. During that first term, I started a Yoga Society at my university and taught Hatha twice a week, I joined the Southampton University Royal Navy Unit (SURNU), was treasurer of the photography society and on top it all, I fell pregnant and planned my wedding. It was a very busy term!

Through my apprenticeship we were encouraged to write, to journal, to submit articles if we wanted and generally to explore the world of creativity and ethical journalism. We had to submit a final thesis in order to qualify our skills, and I did so, writing an open letter to my baby. I completed the apprenticeship at the end of December 2016, and for a few months focused on my pregnancy, uni, yoga, and SURNU; my husband moved away with work so we couldn’t really focus on our marriage at the time.

In March 2017, I don’t really remember what inspired me to do so, but I opened a Blogger account and began writing whenever I felt inclined to do so, almost always about my pregnancy. Earlier this year, I switched all those old posts over to this blog, and started using WordPress instead, still writing when I could, about my baby and about my life.

The intention in the beginning was that my blog was a safe place to share, a place where I could be anonymous and express myself. It was almost meant to be an online diary, but I’ve found a physical copy works much better for me. The blog didn’t stay like that for long; I realised that actually it was a good way to reach out and tell my story.

I am under no illusions here, I don’t think I’m special and I definitely didn’t think anyone would care what I wrote, but I figured that if anyone was interested, they could keep up – mostly I thought this would be family.

***

Hand in hand with my blog, comes my Instagram account. At first, I used my Instagram account on a regular basis, posting about my yoga sessions and some bits of my pregnancy… but before I gave birth, I decided that I wanted to change my Instagram account and so created a new one, giving a short background to my relationship and pregnancy, and then spamming baby photos when Theo Prana arrived! Unfortunately, I couldn’t transfer all my old account posts and so they have been discarded. Instagram became a little bit like a blog for me, it was more accessible and a lot easier to use because writing a few paragraphs or a sentence made posting regularly easy. That said, I wrote in detail about my birth story and postpartum experience on my blog, I wanted to write everything down before I forgot it all and while a little bit of a challenge, writing was easier initially because Theo Prana would sleep or be settled (I miss those days!) and my parents would take him while we were in Gibraltar.

Once back at uni, things became more difficult and I de-prioritised writing. I stopped writing the letters to Theo as I had when I was pregnant, I stopped writing my diary… I focused on getting from one day to the next. Instagram became my chosen outlet, and it allowed me to share, express and learn from my phone, which meant I never had to allocate a block of time, but rather could use it as and when time was available. My intentions for the blog, as I said before, were initially to remain anonymous, but that quickly dissolved. If I wrote, whenever I did, I would share my writings on social media, and I’d look forward to nuggets of feedback.

My biggest rule for writing was not anonymity, but rather, regardless of whether it was on social media, on my blog, or in my personal life: there’s no room for bullshit. I don’t fake happy and I don’t hide difficulty. I try to always be real and honest, even if it isn’t pretty.

However.

I want to be real, I tell the truth, but I do not like the idea of using social media to complain. I do not like the idea that rather than looking for lessons, the perception of my blog and writing is that it is used to vent.

I don’t apologise for this, because if I’ve done it, I’ve obviously needed to, but the intention of my writings was not as a space to vent… at least not often. I look back to the last few months of writing, both published and unpublished and I have used this space as a safe space to come to and just let go. Rather than a diary, I have typed furiously, I have typed sadly, I have typed excitedly and I have typed lovingly… and I have had a lot of support as well as criticism for it.

Over a year after beginning to write, after a year of incredible joys and intense hardship, I can trace back my growth and understand why I have had the experiences I have, and I am grateful that I wrote about them. My intentions were never to write about flowery experiences, about happiness without hardship or make light of reality. It’s not who I am and while I understand there is a line between public and private, I know I do not cross it. I started to write to share my pregnancy and motherhood, I have never hidden the surprise Theo Prana was, but neither have I wished for a different life. I have wondered what my life would be, had things been different, but wholeheartedly, I know that where we are, where I am, is exactly right.

Going forward, I want to take my blog back those original intentions, though they have pervaded all my writings in some way. I want to take the idea of sharing motherhood, (and things that aren’t related to motherhood too), and use it to tell our story, and hopefully learn from others, hear from others and if we’re lucky, inspire others.

I never thought I would have many people read my blog, and I don’t have a worldwide reach, but I do have a little one, and the feedback I have got from absolute strangers is such a beautiful thing. Reaching out to people when they have moved you is amazing and I encourage everyone to do it; I try to whenever I can, and when you get a message of support/encouragement, it makes a difference. I write for me, but if I can help someone else, if I can show them that being in the trenches isn’t permanent, then I’m going to do it.

Anyway,

I’ll sign off now, from my rant/explanation.

I’ve restyled the blog a little so let me know if you like it or if the old style was better!

Love you all

xoxo

R

It’s been a long week! My Friday night blogging session has become something to look forward to, though I had nothing planned to write today. I feel that this is going to become a source of catharsis, almost in the same way that Rachel Braathen’s “From the Heart” podcasts are for her; very likely inspired by them too to be honest. I am still months and months behind in listening, but somehow, they seem to fit exactly where I need them in my life right now.

I am sat with Theo Prana on my lap. He was beside me but woke up and has ended up here, and as I type I am wondering if he’ll wake up. This week, as much as I love my son, I have been desperately craving a break; from nights, and from clinging, a break to just practice yoga, read my book and breath. I don’t need days or weeks, but after sleepless nights, even a morning meditation is incredibly difficult, let alone any asana practice.

When I can, I take pause and breath; I practice my 3-part breath, and I practice inhaling prana up into my head and exhaling it around my body (something we learned on the neuroscience and yoga course I did in April). Just this little attention makes a significant difference, but the impact on my day is a lot stronger when I get to have some time on the mat too.

As we’ve settled in here, I have met more people and tried to make some friends – a real struggle for me as an introvert. Almost everyone I have interacted with is a military spouse, and so there is an element of relation there, but I do still feel out of my depth. That said, as the weeks have passed, I have become more comfortable and I’ve mentioned the fact that I am a yoga teacher which has had some positive responses. I want to teach, but I also know that to teach authentically, my personal practice is super important. Not just Asana (posture) but my practice in my everyday life. We learn the Yamas and Niyama’s in Satsang, though not always by those names, and in Teacher Training we study them… but until you try to implement them into real life, it’s hard to understand them. It’s even harder when you have a tiny human attached to you and dependant.

Being a mum and practising yoga though… it’s entirely different. This article by Emily Azad transformed my thinking. I have a long way to go, but the ideas in her writing and the honesty of motherhood and yoga off the mat make such a lot of sense to me; I just need to practice them, every day. I hope that at some point, I can, as she does, go through each one and consider its personal relevance to me; and maybe then I’ll manage to write about it too.

This week has been particularly trying for me on this front because I am running with a baby who has woken almost every hour for the last 4 or 5 (I honestly can’t remember anymore) nights. I have not felt like being selfless, and I have complained at the lack of sleep, and the fact he won’t do a bed routine. I have complained at my mental boredom, and I have felt selfish, wanting time to myself. This of course also brings on the mum guilt, but I’m not going to write about that tonight. Today, I ended up snapping, and because I did so while baby was awake and around, and in my arms, I have judged myself harshly for it. I got angry with my husband, shouted… he didn’t say anything, so I turned around and left him to set up his game, and I put some music on, danced around and let Theo Prana play at my ankles. It took 3 and a half songs for me to compose myself and apologise to my baby… I have yet to do this with my husband but he’s busy, so I’ve left him alone.

I managed to get Theo Prana to sleep around 90 minutes after this, hyping myself up and making light of everything, to combat any negativity that I would otherwise omit. He’s a little bit of a jumping jelly bean so he had a great time and was tired enough not to fight sleep too much… anything before 9pm is a win for me! As I changed him, and fed him and sang to him, I did my pranayama practice. I watched my breath, and I consciously directed it upwards and then around my body. I kept going, every possible pause, every opportunity to bring my focus back I did. It helped… It made sure that rather than focusing on my anger and my outburst, I was focusing on my breathing and my baby. And it allowed me to put him to sleep without a struggle.

Once he fell asleep though, I ran through things repeatedly, and have been my own worst enemy. I sat for a good while just getting angry with myself, and as I wrote my diary, getting angry with H again too. But, noting these emotions, I paused and this time, forced myself to stop. Breathe. Look at the perfect tiny human we created. BREATHE. Accept that we are flawed. BREATHE. Try to forgive.

It’s hard. It’s harder to be kind to myself than it is to others. I expect more, and I am a harsher critic, but I’m also a work in progress.

I am exhausted, yet I look down at my baby and know I am privileged. I am a Mum. Motherhood is not an easy job, but it is a rewarding one. It doesn’t come with a rulebook, but if I close my eyes, and listen to my core, it tells me that I’m pretty good at it. Motherhood is a privilege. My baby is healthy, he’s generally happy, he’s growing and he’s learning. We have a good little family unit here, and though the ride may not always be smooth, it’s alright if we take things easy. If we breathe things work out.

I’ll sign off here, get some food and go to bed.

Thank you for reading.

R xox

P.S. if you have any suggestions or requests for me to write about, let me know. Thanks!

Anyone who knows me knows that there are certain things that define me as the person I am. I make the assumption here that this is true for most people; we are made up of our likes and dislikes as much as we are made up of the labels we bear. For me personally, a major defining feature is my son, now almost 11 months old and the biggest part of my life to date. He is closely followed by my husband, who I am falling in love with again as we make our house a home together (cringe I know!, but I am not in the habit of editing my emotions when I write).

There are of course other aspects of who I am; a yoga lover, a yoga teacher, a bibliophile, an academic, a writer, lover of animals, a vegetarian, a daughter, a sister, a friend, an acquaintance… I am many things, but for almost a year, they have been overshadowed by my role as ‘mum’, creating a little bit of an identity crisis. This crisis has not suddenly dawned on me, I have just struggled to find the words to express it fully until now.

In October last year, when my son was 3 months old, I wrote this:

“A lot of people told me when I was pregnant that when you become a mother nothing else matters – you are a mum first and everything else comes after.

Similarly, I have had people say to me that when you get married, you must put your partner first always – marriage is about sacrifice, even if it is at the cost of your own comfort and happiness.

So does that mean that now I am a mother first, wife second and person last?

Who am I?
Where has my identity gone?

Is marriage and motherhood synonymous with a loss of identity?”

I remember writing it, in my bed, after having put my baby down into his cot again following the nightly episode of screams because he didn’t want to be apart from me. I was feeling so deflated, and being away from H, I was feeling a little alone. Nights have always been harder for me, even before baby, so it doesn’t surprise me that I felt this way… but I came across my writing and decided that I needed to carry on.

Ironically, this crisis had renewed itself a little with my new surroundings as I try to fit into the role of mother and wife, while considering that I am both these things alongside H being Theo Prana’s father and my husband, and both of us trying to figure out this parenting and adulting malarkey.

H asked me, as we once again discussed my decision to keep my maiden name, whether I have “found myself” as Rohana Aisha Dewfall… and quite frankly I’d answer no. I have no-idea who I am anymore, because all of me seems so focused on mothering Theo that I forget what life was like before. This is challenging now as I try to create the identity of “wife” as well as mother; something I haven’t yet had to do while at uni. However, both H and I are in the same boat there so at least I’m not figuring it out alone!

The idea of losing myself to identities of “wife” and “mum” terrifies me, but I am determined not to give it to it. When I wrote in October, though it was only a short while ago, I was at an entirely different point in life, where I felt vulnerable and I was getting through each day and calling that a win… but now, I am celebrating each day and I am not feeling vulnerable (though I have my moments), I am feeling fierce. The love I have for my son is fierce, the love I have for my husband is too; they are different but as strong as each other… the love I have for myself is not as fierce, it is something I am still nurturing, but it is there, bigger and stronger than before; making sure I know that the identity crisis I am feeling right now is a huge part of life. A lesson in acceptance.

My tag line for this blog is “lessons from my life force” which for those of you who don’t understand it, means lessons from my son (Prana). The reality is however, that the lessons, while sometimes from my little one, are often things I innately know, but have not been willing to admit, or ready to face. Having my son with me, to guide as well as to be guided by allows me to explore these emotions and dig deep for these lessons… something I wouldn’t be able to do without my identity in motherhood. As I write tonight, I realise that this lesson is one of surrender, acceptance and adjustment.

Adapt. Adjust. Accommodate. 

I have fought the loss of my identity pre-marriage and motherhood, but I am writing this and realising that it is not a loss, it is just an adjustment. I am not the person I was 2 years ago, like I am not the person I was yesterday, because each experience adds to my identity. True, if I want other aspects of my identity to be prevalent then I need to work to make sure they are, but alongside that work is the effort to adapt, and even embrace an identity that holds motherhood and marriage as core aspects of it, without allowing them to overshadow other parts of me. If I can manage this, rather than be in an identity crisis, I’ll be in an identity re-creation… which is a much nicer way to look at it I think!

And on that note, I’ll be off.

Thanks for reading!

xox R

Authors Note: I want to thank absolutely everyone who has messaged me about the previous 2 parts of this series of posts; your support means an incredible amount to me and quite fittingly it makes you a part of my extended village. As always, feedback is welcome, and if you have any questions, message me! I may take a day or 2, but I promise I will always reply.

Just a quick side note though – H is back! I cannot find the words to express my excitement at his return; I tried on Instagram as best as I could, but honestly it all feels like a dream.

If you’ve followed from the start, you’ve read now about the challenges this year regarding my relationship and my personal living space. Truthfully, hard as these past months have been, a lot has been good too. I rarely use names here, but I am going to give a shout-out to some of my dearest friends as I write, because honestly, without my village, I would not be where I am today.

I want to say however, that while my extended village has been a huge pillar for me, the biggest supporters I have had have been my husband and parents. H supported my choice to come back to uni even though it meant being away from Theo Prana, and my parents have performed nothing short of miracles this year in their efforts to help me finish my degree. My in-laws, extended family, my friends and even my Instagram followers have all formed my village and kept me going, but a lot of that has been possible because I’ve had a good core support system. You all know who you are, and you are all incredible.

**

When I found out about my pregnancy, before even telling my mum, I told Danielle. She was (and is) my best friend, and I knew I could trust her not to judge me. Then I told my mum and rest of the family, and then I shut everything out while making the decision to keep Theo Prana. Once I knew I would, despite having been adamant that a baby was not on the cards for me for a long while, I spoke to my mate Josh. Slowly, I started including other people in the circle of knowledge, making it public when I published my thesis article on Elephant Journal; seems like that was a million years ago now! A few hours after making the decision, H asked me what kind of wedding we were going to plan, he knew how important it was to me to be married before babies, and to this day, it means so much that was his response.

Rumours of my pregnancy were spread quickly, especially as it was quite scandalous – I was never the girl who people expected to get married and have a baby young. Once I made my pregnancy public knowledge, I got messages of congratulations and other messages that told me I was never going to manage, and that I was foolish to think of having a baby so young, let alone bring my baby to uni, but I talked to my growing belly and told my tiny human that he was loved; I tried not to dwell on the hard bits.

Over Christmas break, at home in Gibraltar, we planned a beautiful blessing for H and I. My wonderful teacher Nalanie Ji blessed us, as did all my centre family, with mum, dad, Paul and a few friends and relatives speaking. The hormones I had surging through my body probably enhanced it, but the emotions I had that day were incredible… scared as I was, I knew that I was safe and loved, and

I knew that as long as we stuck together and stayed strong, H and I could survive distance and hardships. My yoga family are a huge extension of who I am as a person, and I am honoured that I know every single one of them.

The blessing was small and intimate, it meant a lot to me, and was a precursor to our official wedding. Many of my family and friends were unable to come to the wedding, whilst H’s family couldn’t come for the blessing, so essentially it worked

out that we celebrated with everyone, albeit separately.

H’s family planned the wedding, and my parents made sure that my family guests could come, organising the hotel for everyone. Honestly, though I remember most of the day, and it was beautiful, it was also exhausting! I am grateful for all the hard work H’s family put in, especially Victoria who was essentially our wedding planner; in such a short time, and over Christmas break, they worked a mini miracle. On the day though, aside from all the family congrats etc, and my father-daughter dance, the thing I remember most is washing the dishes at the end of the night and crying a little, and Imogen walking in to give me pep talk. It’s quite incredible how the slightest human contact makes us feel so much stronger – I don’t know if you remember that Imogen, but thank you!

On the way back to Portsmouth the next day, H and I were in a car accident, and once again Dani came to my mental rescue, keeping me rational when all H and I could think about was the possibility of miscarriage.

**

Fast forward a few months and everyone, including all my friends at the Southampton Royal Navy Unit (SURNU) were all excited over my growing bump. My friend circle was small but part of a larger group, and my friend/family group back in Gibraltar were all lovely. I would video the movements of my belly for H to see because just after the wedding, he had to move bases. He was away basically my whole pregnancy, and so my friends stepped up, Josh offered to come to Drs Appointments with me, and when I ran out of class because of my morning sickness (which lasted most of the second trimester too), friends would often update my notes. These small gestures are easily forgotten in the grand scheme of things, but they meant an incredible amount to me, and I am emotional writing about them.

As I grew bigger, I hid my bump, feeling conscious about it and the social stigma that comes with young parents, but my friends would all get excited. I nicknamed my bump ‘blip’, though Josh nicknamed it Erich, and my friends Luke, Ben and George all went with Kaiser after we found out Theo was a boy. H and I thought we would have a daughter, but looking back, I can’t imagine it now, Theo Prana chose us to be his parents, and even though I’ve only been his mum for a short time, I know part of my purpose is exactly this; I was always meant to have a son, and it was always meant to be him.

In my second term mum visited for my 20 week scan (an interesting experience!) and H visited a week later. I booked us a private scan so he could see baby on the ultrasound and we saw there that he did not inherit my nose, something I know that H is grateful for! I made a trip to my cousins in Cardiff for Mother’s Day, and felt so very blessed and welcomed; despite the shock of everything, my Aunty K spoiled me beautifully and I started to get excited about my bump.

I was back in Gibraltar for the Easter break, and then uni one last time. Over Easter I really got excited; I was more than halfway into my pregnancy, had seen H a couple of times and I was planning to see him at least once more before the birth of our baby. I managed it in Hopton when he travelled down and I travelled up, for a couple of days with his whole family. By then I was definitely looking properly pregnant, though less so than his sister Amelia who was due that month (May). I honestly admire the dedication it takes to have 2 under 2, I know I couldn’t do it.

Before my Hopton trip however, my friends threw me a baby shower! It was the cutest and most lovely morning, and I was totally spoiled, as was Theo Prana. Hatty, Imogen and Gemma, my girls were there, Rhi couldn’t make it and Dani was in Manchester, but my yoga friends were there too. And of course my best guy friends, including Charles, George and Ben were there, Josh came to pick me up for the ‘surprise’ and we all had breakfast/brunch in a little cafe by my house. It was simple and sweet, and one of my best memories of uni.

A few days later I jetted off again and I had one of the most amazing experiences in Swindon. Mum was teaching their for a few days, and so I went up to see her and join in for a long weekend of yoga and good energy; if I had to pinpoint a highlight in my pregnancy, this was it! The days were long, but the energy and people were incredible. At the time, I was also taking my Hatha 1 training, and this reinforced a lot of what I had learned (thank you mum for basically being my solo guide), but it also moved me in ways I hadn’t imagined. I didn’t do all the Hatha, but I watched and saw the effect the postures have on people, joined in the Kirtan which I absolutely adore, had a Navajo ritual blessing for baby and met some incredible people.

On this trip I was gifted the best birth book every, I read it cover to cover at least 3 times, and this amazing booked about Dutch kids and Dutch parenting – they do it right! I learned so much and loved a lot; leaving the trip with a new sense of self. Anyone who’s been to a great yoga class, or been on a retreat will probably understand what I mean, but it’s difficult to quantify through words the impact the trip had on me. I gained another extended family, some of whom have also really formed part of my village this year.

After all these things (sorry for the mixed chronology), I did my last exams and my dad came to the UK and flew home with me. By this point I had 2 months left of my pregnancy and I wanted to make the most of it. I read a lot, did yoga and tried to just keep very calm. I had beach time, where I put my feet in the water, I swam when I could and sun-bathed a little, ate lots of ice cubes and spent quality time with my family. I had my Teacher Training Graduation, went to a Bright-Talks event, and just tried to keep inspired daily.

In all these pictures I am around 8 months pregnant! I think, in many ways I was in the best situation. Yes, I am young, and yes, it was unplanned, but I didn’t have to work until my labour day, I got to take the last 8 weeks of my pregnancy as slowly as I wanted, and make sure that my baby was healthy and happy every day.

**

Fast forward again to Theo Prana’s birth, and I am so grateful H was able to be there for it. It was a beautiful labour, though I do wish I could have held off the meds; but Theo Prana arrived safe and sound. My complications postpartum tested me immensely, but H was great and we enjoyed the time on our own with baby. He left quickly which I know was difficult, and I continued to slowly recuperate from birth and surgery and tried to get used to baby. It was hard, I was determined to breastfeed, but there was a day he was on the breast for 18 hours! I was exhausted, and honestly, hats off to every single woman who does this on their own and more than once – I admire the strength you have! Shoutout here to our family friend Tamsin; she was a massive support system for me with Theo Prana and our breastfeeding journey, and continues to inspire me daily with her resilience and dedication to her family.

Honestly, I don’t know how I’d have survived those weeks without my mum and dad, and brother to be fair; his bond with Theo Prana is really quite beautiful. The long nights and short naps left me drained, but my family took baby and encouraged me to sleep. They 100% supported my breastfeeding journey, never pushing me to ‘top-up’ or give in. The demand feeding almost killed me, or I thought it might, but my mum’s support and acknowledgement of my worry and exhaustion helped me keep going.

Things at uni are a little more blurry to be honest. R, my housemate was a huge source of encouragement and support in the initial weeks, especially when my dad wasn’t there. My friends were all smitten with baby, aside from Josh who was in his own world. A few friends were on placement years so we caught up occasionally, like Hatty who babysat for me while I taught yoga, and Imogen who I only caught up with me before Christmas. George, Ben and Luke met up with Theo Prana and I often for lunch dates, and Luke especially surprised me with his love for Theo Prana, eventually leading to him being my choice babysitter during an exam. George was my biggest support during lessons, and he consistently checked in and made sure I was doing okay; bonding with Theo Prana beautifully. Of all my friends, George was the best with him by miles.

Because baby was so small first term, I stayed home more and tried for a routine, which meant my social interactions were limited to lectures and the postpartum yoga classes I attended. Charles would take baby during the break of one of our lectures, and it was a relief because I knew he was safe but I could go to the loo, or eat something without worrying. One lesson, my tutor took Theo Prana and held him and she walked around to let me concentrate on the documentary we were watching. All my tutors were very supportive, and I feel very blessed to have had the staff support I did; they welcomed Theo Prana and I, always interacting with him or acknowledging his interest. He loved to pipe up at just the right moments, and looking back I am sure it was the universes way of making sure I didn’t stress overload. My personal tutor, having studied with babies as well, understood my situation and this made a massive difference to my mental health. I have been fortunate that Theo Prana is a good baby, and has generally been calm and happy (must be all the yoga his mummy did!) which I know has helped as well, but even still, I was a huge anomaly, bringing my baby to class, and I am grateful that I had the opportunity to do so .

Aside from attending yoga, I taught a Hatha class once a week, and had no formal childcare arrangements so every week I asked friends. Josh babysat a number of times, Hatty and George too and H did the one time he was around during my class time; mostly though, I asked Danielle. She has become more like family in our friendship and I knew I could 100% trust that Theo Prana would be fine with her. This worked out amazingly for me because I’d usually say to stay for dinner or meet earlier and do lunch also giving me some adult company. These classes brought me a little bit of sanity and solace because my personal practice was non-existent. I tried and the times I managed even some Sun Salutations or a quick stretch and some pranayama, the days felt brighter, but mostly, I was tired and Theo Prana didn’t really like staying on the yoga mat for long.

Before I began weaning him, my yoga mat was out as a space we could be together and play, but it was replaced with the blanket on the floor so that I could collect food he had dropped and wash the blanket rather than have to scrub at the floor. My friends were a little clueless when it came to weaning (understandably) and my family more traditional, but my tutor sparked my interest about Baby Led Weaning and so I turned to Facebook and Instagram. The information and support were incredible, and it really created an extension of my village to know I had other mums out there who I could talk to, even if they weren’t in the same area. It also became a huge comfort to me, raising my baby vegetarian, to learn and understand the best meals to give him; really a lot of it is common sense, but Theo Prana’s weaning journey made me quite a foodie, something I’m sure will kick in again when I am in Scotland.

Weaning happened during the second term of uni, and my parents visited for a lot of the term, plus I took a couple of weeks out in Gibraltar. Being at uni was tough, but as Theo Prana got more active and reactive, my friends became even more smitten. My friendship with Gemma grew a lot during the last few months and now we are planning a girls holiday! The last few weeks Theo Prana had the nursery, and I remember going out for lunch with some of the bigger group, and feeling so alone because my baby wasn’t there, but also liberated because I could eat and talk and not worry for a whole meal out! Luke went on and on about missing “the Kaiser”, which of course is Theo Prana’s official nickname according to him. There is absolutely nothing extraordinary that any one person did, but all the little things, the asking how we were, and also specifically how I was, the holding Theo Prana to give me a break, the genuine interest and the company; my friends kept me going.

**

Fast forward one last time. I am sat on my bed, writing this for the 3rd night, because there has been so much to say. I have cut out a lot, and if I haven’t mentioned you, it’s nothing personal! I trust that every single person who has been in my life, physically and via the internet, knows that they are part of the village that has seen me through this last year. I survived because I am an extremely determined woman, and I set my sights on finishing, but I know that without the support of everyone, especially my parents, I would have either become severely depressed or quit.

It feels like my parents have spent more time in the UK than in Gibraltar these past months, and they’ve spent hours and hours on the phone to me, never making me feel like I was a bother, or that they didn’t have time. My brother has stepped into his role and uncle and Theo Prana adores him, and I know they will all miss us when I leave, but I also know that this has been the goal, to see me do it, and to make sure I got here. You know how grateful I am.

One quick last shoutout – my cousins! Especially my cousin Bobby who has been a face of comfort and love constantly. I never really talk about them and I won’t go into detail but they have had a tough time too, but they have always welcomed us, been excited and shared love. Bobby has been someone I can count on, even just for a quick phone-call, and he one of the kindness people I know, and he is owed a great debt of thanks for his support and joy this year too.

It takes a village to raise a child, and I have been blessed with a huge one. More than that though, it takes a village to support a mum, and I have been gifted a support beyond any I could have imagined.

Thank you.

xxx Ro

Writing the first part of this series made me feel lighter; taking a weight of worry away from my shoulders. That said, it does not mean it was easy to write, I have been churning over everything for a long while now, and it needed to come out before I move away. Following its publication, I received several messages about my writings being hurtful. I want to make clear that this is not my intention, and so I feel a disclaimer is necessary.

Disclaimer: My writings tell my truth, not to harm or offend but as a form of catharsis for myself. I make no apologies for the truth I tell, the emotions are mine and events are as seen through my eyes as I reflect back on my time. It is a personal account.

**

I have always been drawn to books and words, probably because of their incredible power to heal. This next reflection is another hard one, but one I want to write and let go off.

Tonight, I am starting my post about my experience as a student mum, my university and my living space while I studied. Heads up, its gonna be a long one! If you can make it to the end though, it will probably shed a lot of light on who I am today; at least regarding the experiences I have had in the last 9 months.

I travelled back to the UK with Theo Prana when he was less than 6 weeks old; my dad, the angel that he is, came with us, and we visited my grandparents first, before heading down to Portsmouth. Baby slept during the flight a lot, and I knew I was blessed not have had him screaming while we were in the air, but in the car, things were different. A lot of this time is blurry in my mind, so I apologise in advance for any hazy bits, I am telling my truth as I remember it. I know that my grandparents were smitten and, like almost everyone, they remarked how closely Theo Prana resembles H. We spent the evening with them and then went to a hotel, where baby screamed, and screamed, eventually vomiting over the bed; the new environment and English cold probably phased him a little. Daytime was fine, but the screaming picked up again as we travelled, and I remember having to pull over in the darkness because he would not settle in his car seat. Eventually though we got to Portsmouth, where R, my new flatmate waited excitedly.

I remember putting all our stuff in the flat, opening up my room and R meeting Theo Prana. I don’t remember if we had dinner, but I know that we crashed pretty quickly, and the few days dad was over, we spent getting things sorted. Dad build the cot we had taken from my grandparents, and got a new set of shelves for me to keep in the kitchen for all baby stuff. I labelled my food and set up the new pram, missing Gibraltar already and wondering when we would next see H.

Within a few days, my other flatmate, D, arrived. Dad left back to Gib, though he was scheduled to come back a week later, and I attempted to set a routine. I read Gina Ford and mistakenly assumed that just because things made rational sense in her book, that I would be able to apply that kind of routine to my life with Theo Prana. Sitting here now, still with no routine established, I think I must have been a little crazy! It all went to pot anyway when I attended Freshers Fayre, because the noise and the mayhem was all a little too much. I would have skipped it if I hadn’t been heading the Yoga Society, but it was my responsibility to show up, and so between the pram and the sling, Theo Prana experienced Freshers Fayre about 18 years earlier than most people. That week I registered Theo with the uni surgery and agreed to panel the university’s Question Time event which was scheduled just after Theo’s first vaccines. H visited for the weekend, his first trip since baby was born, so spent Friday-Sunday with us. The plan was for him to take Theo Prana during the event but because of the vaccines, but baby was having none of it and so spent most of the afternoon attached to my boob! It meant a lot to have H there, and Theo Prana gave his first proper smile to his daddy, a moment I know he cherishes.

We spent the weekend playing with Theo Prana, who had a new play-mat, and I tried to get H and baby to bond; this was harder than I thought it would be, because he was just too small to understand all the changes. I honestly don’t remember a lot else in terms of specific chronological events for a while after the Question Time. H’s visit was great, hard, but great, though he left far too soon but we managed. Distance has always been a factor in our relationship but the fact he now had to leave his son made a huge impact.

**

R and I made yoga plans and ate together when we could, my room became a social space for us, and Theo Prana seemed to steal her heart. D didn’t join in much, and I do remember saying very early on that I wished it was just R and I, because from the start D made a point to close doors loudly and express distaste for my son.

I feel at this point I should note that I am not attacking anyone, nor am I bitching. When I found out about my pregnancy, I asked my landlord if I could stay, and he said as long as my flatmates were okay with it, he had no problem. I asked both flatmates, because I was prepared to move into a single accommodation, but R was totally fine (even a tad excited) and D told me that he had no problem with my staying, so I did. Part of me regrets it now, but a bigger part knows that I needed to experience everything this year, to teach me more about the way I want to live my life, and how I want to set my life up with H.

My dad came back and helped immensely, I attended lecturers, studied and napped a lot. We were making use of the cot so nights were exhausting, but it was a relief to have my dad there as a support system. While he was there, Monarch Airlines went bust and I lost my mid-term trip to Gibraltar. Between us, the family had 14 flights lost, but my saintly father kept calm while I freaked out, and then helped me re-book flights. While he was there, one night Theo Prana would not settle, I tried everything – even the ‘warrior walk’ I had learned in postpartum yoga – and it made no difference. I felt helpless and like a useless mum, so I gave baby to my dad (who pacified him) and went into the bathroom hyperventilating. I sat and cried, semi composed myself and as soon as I opened the door, R was there checking on me. Admittedly, sometimes she was overbearing, mostly because we still weren’t used to each other and the house, but on that instance, as well as several others, her support meant a lot.

My dad left after a couple of weeks and very quickly I saw the difference in the reality of student life. Theo Prana came to lectures with me and often, to keep him happy, I would either breastfeed or carry him in the sling. I was conscious about not disturbing other people, but thankfully nobody made any comments. In fact most students were quite taken with the youngest person in the lecture, and while I found it hard to learn, the lectures provided a small break for me, to socialize and talk about things that weren’t always baby related. I had a few issues with friends at the start, but they resolved and looking back seem to be inconsequential. I missed H a lot at this time, and work was odd hours which made talking hard, but we arranged another weekend trip quickly, just after my trip to Gibraltar again.

The flights I lost, I rebooked with Easyjet and spent 10 days back home, working on assignments and catching up on sleep. Theo Prana screamed a lot at bedtime that trip, and I remember feeling like a terrible mother, unable to pacify him. The trip paid off and I did well on the assignments, pushing me to work harder back at uni.

I travelled back newly determined, excited to see my husband a few days later, not knowing that I was returning to the start of a really hard time. R and D had fought, a lot… she wasn’t used to living with people and had her own way of doing things; a way D didn’t agree with. Both of them with strong characters, a household feud began with me away and ended a few long weeks later.

Immediately there was a difference and tension in the flat, but we did our best to smooth things out, and the weekend that H came, I tried to focus solely on us as a couple – but knowing that he was going only a couple of nights later meant I distanced myself from him, a lot. The last time had been great, albeit tiring, but this trip I just didn’t feel strong enough to cope with the emotional baggage of saying bye again. After he left, I felt like quitting uni – I wanted to be with my husband, away from my student flat, away from the stress of uni, and away from all the things that weren’t a part of our family life. I turned 21 that Monday, and my parents had flown into the UK; as soon as they arrived, feeling all this, and having cancelled morning plans for a health visitor who never showed up, I remember handing Theo Prana to my parents and saying “you can have him, I need a break”. Obviously he had picked up on all my feelings, and he hadn’t napped, he wouldn’t settle and I was exhausted. So much for my determination from a few days previous!

We went out for dinner with my cousins, my parents and brother spent time with us and a couple of days later, they drove off to look at university options for my brother. I was on my own, uni pressures building up, Theo Prana struggling with bedtime, the flat situation becoming more tense and missing my husband. I gave up using the cot in an attempt to keep my sanity, choosing to co-sleep despite warnings against it. I didn’t care about what I looked like, I was literally getting from 1 day to the next. I think at this point the only reason I kept going was the emotional support I had; and because my personal tutor was not going to let me quit without a fight. I am genuinely so grateful for my village, but that is Part III, so I won’t divert there yet. Overall, the few weeks after my 21st birthday are blurry and kind of dark; I had lots of love but I felt very alone. My mum was due to visit and that kept me going.

**

Before mum’s visit, H had better working hours if I remember correctly, and so we managed to video call a few times a week, and he got to see Theo Prana, albeit through a screen, more regularly. The consistent communication made things easier, I didn’t feel the need to pretend that things were great all the time, and it felt almost normal. Flip the coin though, and my house situation exploded – things had progressively got more tense, and one morning, we tried to sort things out. Rather than make things better, the result was an almost 4 page letter from D telling R that she was a nightmare, and R deciding to move out. I felt very torn, and looking back I wish I had been more vocal, but my focus was my baby, he was getting upset because I was constantly tense, and so I kept quiet, letting R (even encouraging as I knew by then it would be what was best) move away, and trying to keep out of D’s hair. D and I got on superficially at times, but a lot of it was to keep the peace.

R moved out and mum visited. The dynamic of the house was awkward. I felt guilty, but also relieved, which in turn made me feel more guilty. Baby was by this time almost afraid of his cot, which made me feel like I was failing at motherhood, but helped my student life a little because I was getting more than 2-3 hours sleep daily. Mum’s trip was 4 short days, and during it we shopped, we talked, I relaxed. We drank wine too! It was a much-needed break, even though it had only been a few weeks on my own, I could feel myself sinking… and then halfway into her trip… I got a message from H to tell me was making a spontaneous visit!

H arrived and I borrowed an air-mattress from my best friend Dani because mum was still there for 2 nights and we only had one bed. It was really lovely to have the time with him, but also quite a shock, I wasn’t mentally prepared for it honestly! Still, any family time was a gift, and we tried to make the most of it; mum sent us packing to do couple things, like get baby weighed, and we went out for lunch one of the days. The day she was leaving, we met my cousins for brunch, and H walked with Theo Prana for a good 20 minutes before he fell asleep, and I snapped this picture! H is definitely not a fan of camera’s but I tried (and will keep doing so) to document as much of their precious time together as possible. We drove mum to the train station and had a couple of days together before H had to jet off again. This one was one of the hardest I think, because I hadn’t anticipated it. Looking back, it was probably the world trying to teach me to loosen up a bit!

*

My mother in-law, sister-in-law and aunt-in-law (is that a thing?) came to visit at the start of December. It was only for a day but it was honestly so good to see them. None of my in-laws had met Theo Prana because I had planned to make a trip earlier in the term but it wasn’t possible, so this was the first time he was introduced. They took Theo Prana out while I went to a lecture and then we made oven pizza for dinner; super simple but having their company kept me boosted for a few days.

My personal tutor and I had made a deal, if I made it through TB1, I would see the degree through; obviously if I was really struggling then we’d change things, but making it to December, 10 weeks into my degree, gave me hope. The term was a lot of little leaps, looking forward to visits and trips, and just getting through the hard days; but I was doing it.

The highlight of the term was H’s week-long visit, though we did really struggle at points, especially because Theo Prana had hit the 4 month sleep regression stage, and his 3rd vaccination set gave us the longest, hardest night I’d had by that point. The visit was another surprise, but this time I was better prepared, and because it was longer, I let my guard down more.

We made the very long trip to my-laws, which I could not have done alone, and spent a lovely day with them, before heading back for my lectures. Theo Prana got some one-to-one time with his daddy, and I got to catch up on studies. I had the option to nap, but I only did once; whenever H visited, I napped a lot less, trying to catch up on cooking and cleaning while catching up on his life.

**

He left, which must have killed him, and to prevent myself from getting into a dark place again, I booked a ticket to my grandparents the same day, spending 2 nights with them and my dad. There was a lot of snow at that time, which made the journey back very long, but dad and I got back to Portsmouth, and prepared to leave for Gibraltar for my Christmas break. I didn’t let myself feel a lot of the feelings I had once H left that week; in fact, it was only after writing Part I of this that I have been able to process a lot of them. I felt angry that H only got snippets of family time, not at him, but at his work, and at myself. I felt frustrated, because I was parenting and H hadn’t really learned how to – he hadn’t been given the chance. I felt guilty, for taking the time away, and stressed because I didn’t know how to reconcile all these feelings.

Adding to this, living alone with D had become increasingly difficult. He’d slam the door at the slightest noise from Theo Prana, didn’t want me going into the kitchen early in the morning and generally just made me feel a little bit crap. I decided that rather than feel everything, I would bury it, and I did so effectively. But now, I don’t need to keep it buried; which is why, even though I am aware that this post is very long, I am telling my narrative.

**

Christmas break seems like a whirlwind. I remember being very stressed, planning my exam and doing my 2500 word essay before Christmas day, having 2 days off and then trying to write 2 chapters of my dissertation before H arrived for new years. I didn’t quite manage it but did as best as I could, and asked H to take baby out a couple of times so I could finish off my writing.

The days before H’s visit I caught up with friends when I was alone with baby, and I put on a brave face, smiling when people congratulated me on completing my first term, and generally avoiding discussing the harder things. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t lie and pretend it was great, but I brushed it off, said we were coping and moved on. My stress levels peaked after Christmas, my dissertation was a huge deal and I felt overwhelmed.

H arrived in time for the New Year, though we didn’t do anything fancy. The week he visited, as I previous wrote, was the hardest one we’ve had. I know now though, that a lot of it was because of my stress, and my expectations. I was in this mode of ‘go, go, go’ and didn’t stop or slow down. I expected H to catch up, and I shouldn’t have. It doesn’t diminish the fact that things were hard, we argued and I felt wronged, but looking back, I can understand where my emotions were rooted, and they were selfish; something that I am working hard on. I am not perfect, but I do know I have changed a lot since then.

He travelled back to the UK and a day later I followed suit, with my dad meeting me at Gatwick (he flew the same day, different flight!).

**

I was scared to go back. I was worried about the flat situation, and I knew I had a lot of work to do this term. Baby was so much more active; I felt like it would be impossible to keep up – and for the most part I was right. I went back attempting to be positive and when my dad was there (few days) things were okay, he’d keep me calm and we’d go out more, but as soon as he left I was miserable. H had no time off for the foreseeable future and even though I only had 3 weeks scheduled on my own, I knew I wasn’t going to manage. Theo Prana wasn’t in nursery, and lectures felt impossible because he was curious and noisy. I felt bad because instead of enjoying my baby’s milestones, I was resenting the impact they were having on my degree – it was easier when he was smaller (minus the sleep deprivation). My dad came back again, and we travelled back to Gibraltar together in February. I had handed in part of my dissertation, and got feedback on it, but the trip was to focus on other assignments and the second half of my diss. I spent a week in bed while in Gibraltar, sick from stress and unable to work or do anything properly, which Theo Prana spent a lot of time with his grandparents. My dad came back to the UK again with me for 12 days, the last major push with assignments and hitting my draft dissertation target. By the time he left, it was basically March, leaving me with 1 final month of uni.

Some point in the haze of the first 2 months of uni, H got deployed; the biggest surprise we’d had (barring finding out about Theo Prana) and so we had our first go at long distance goodbyes – I don’t recommend them! This trip has definitely created an additional stress point for me, though it meant my guilt at being in Portsmouth lessened because we wouldn’t have been together as a family anyway. It’s been hard, and there were days where we functioned on autopilot, but there are inevitably moments where you want to share things, and you can’t, which has been the hardest part of the whole year in terms of our family unit; because it created another barrier. However, this time apart has made me cherish every single form of communication. I honestly don’t know what his head-space is like, but I know I have grown a lot in mine.

The last month was the hardest in terms of the flat. My mum made a short visit over, providing me with some sanity, and my friends were a massive comfort. I went out a lot, and often without cause. Theo Prana had been granted a place in nursery for the last few weeks of term, starting end of February, so when he was there, I’d either attend lectures if I had them, or go and work in a quiet area. The last week I actually just took him to nursery and went home to pack, and then picked him up again. I stopped fighting the lack of routine and stayed in my room when he slept; partly as a precaution in case he tried to crawl off the bed, but also because I didn’t feel comfortable in the kitchen. D made a fuss if any noise was too loud, he didn’t talk often, and I felt a growing sense of unease every time I was around him. Theo Prana’s food exploration had to be done in my room, because the kitchen was basically off-limits, and I soon felt like a prisoner of the room, only leaving to use the bathroom or make food which got consumed on my bed or, with Theo Prana in his high-chair and a red blanket underneath him. I was keeping positive externally for the most part and keeping busy to ignore my emotions, but looking back, I honestly don’t know how I coped. There was not one specific thing that happened (although there was an instance where D said he didn’t want me using the kitchen because he had an essay to write), but rather, it was a culmination of the faces, and mutters, the slammed doors and the odd comment like “he’s having a bad day today isn’t he” that made me feel entirely unwelcome in the flat. I literally couldn’t wait to escape.

And I did. I flew back home at the end of March, everything was packed away in suitcases and boxes, ready to be shipped out. I was flying back mid-April to get it all packed into a van, and to hand in my dissertation. I wrote my friends cards, and I bundled Theo Prana into his pram, balancing the suitcase on top, and made him say goodbye the to flat he spent a large chunk of his first 7 months in. He was super excited as walked to the station, but then, he’s always excited to go out for a walk! My happy baby kept me positive, even when things got really tough.

**

I got home to Gib and still powered on, refusing to let everything fully hit me. Finished my dissertation, and had a nightmarish trip back to the UK to hand it in. My plane got diverted, my removal van broke down, I said goodbye to my cousin in Southampton which was heartbreaking, my other plane was delayed and a couple who I’m both friends with broke up. On top of which, I knew that Theo Prana was not happy to have been left alone; as much as he loves his grandparents, he wanted mummy (more specifically, he wanted boobie).

But we survived, the removal van took over 2 weeks to finally pick my stuff up (thanks to my cousin living nearby), but he did, and it’s (hopefully) all waiting for me in my new house. I came back, had lots of cuddles over the weekend, and then that week, I was on a 9-5 course every day. I will write about it at some point, but need mention that the course was mind-blowing! Dad brought Theo Prana at lunchtime every day to feed and then I went home to them in the evenings. The week was hectic, and another hectic few days of assignments followed. I pushed myself hard, finishing everything and handing it in the first week of May, so that when everything was done, I could enjoy Theo Prana.

**

That was 2 weeks ago. Mum proofread my last assignment and we made some changes, but for all intents and purposes, I finished all my uni work 2 weeks ago, just in time for some sunshine. The first week was blissful, I watched tutorials and got super excited and prepared for my Younique business, signed up to some new courses (yes I’m crazy) and began tying up loose ends. I met friends. went to the park, and did all the mum things I have been dying to do. It was lovely, but I wasn’t comfortable, I had this weight pushing me down, and I knew it was because of everything I have written about, and more. Last week I started to write, but my thoughts were all jumbled, and so a few days later, I tried again, which ended in Part 1 of this blog post. Last night, I started this one, and every spare moment I’ve had over the last 25 hours has been focused on this… because it needed to come out.

I thought initially I would bitch about my situation this year, complain and get it all off my chest, but that would have been futile. I didn’t want to rant and have nothing good happen, so instead, I chose to reflect and analyse myself in different situations. I wanted to hold past self accountable, and to teach my future self to let go a little.

My situation within lectures taught me patience. My personal tutor made me determined. My parents kept me sane, and my husband has been my biggest source of encouragement; even away, because I was not prepared to have spent the last year on this roller-coaster without finishing, and doing my damn best too. My friends were my comfort, and my flat situation tested me beyond beliefs.

I practice and teach yoga because I love it, but this year has made me live it too, and I have failed many times, but I’ve stood back up, even when I didn’t want to. In the words of one of my best friends, I am going to make sure that I am “living my best life.” If you read this far, I’m impressed, but I’d also like to say thank you; I have had an incredible village surrounding me this year, through every hardship, and every happy moment too, your presence is noticed and appreciated.

For now,

Goodnight/day, wherever you are,

xxx Ro

It’s coming up to midnight, Theo Prana is lying down next to me and I am propped up with pillows and a tiny bed-lamp, wondering when on earth I am ever going to dedicate time to writing again. The answer: now apparently!

I tried to write a few days ago, but there were too many thoughts going on in my head, too many stories and too many emotions; I want to look back on the last 9 months and write about my experiences, partly to share, but mostly because I know it’ll be cathartic for me. I’ve decided to do this in a series of parts, rather than just one super long blog post, which I think will also help me express everything as I write. The past year has been a blessing, but it has been tough on many different levels, and while I know I’ve been luckier than many, I’ve also dealt with a lot. Experience is the best teacher (something I just read from my mum’s old essay) and I have learned a lot.

My journey from Bump to Baby was a hard but beautiful one, and my postpartum experience brought lessons of resilience and acceptance, though I didn’t realise it at the time necessarily. Tonight however, my mind isn’t really on my labour journey or the initial weeks, it’s on H; who I was blessed to have at Theo Prana’s birth, but who has been gifted very little time with his son since then.

I know that as a military spouse, part of the deal is that your time is not your own, your partner cannot always be around so missed months are normal, but that doesn’t necessary make it feel any easier. Soon, when we are together as a family, I am sure I will have lots to say about the trials faced as we rekindle our relationship, and create a sense of home together. At this moment though, the realities of a life together seem impossible, because it is not something we have had.

H moved away while I was pregnant, to continue his training, and I stayed in my student flat in Portsmouth, which I returned to with Theo Prana when he was less than 6 weeks old. H was absent for most of my pregnancy, creating a sense of aloofness that neither of us wanted but that was unavoidable. When we were together, we took lots of photos, and made the most of what we could, but the reality of my growing belly was hard to comprehend, especially because I was choosing to continue my degree in Portsmouth, despite the distance it created between us. Having finished it, I can say that although there were many moments (and days) that I felt guilty for this choice, separating H from his son, and Theo Prana from his Daddy, I in no way regret my decision. Theo Prana was a surprise, and while he is the light of my life now (as has been since before his birth), I know that had I not finished my degree this year, I would have resented my decision.

That said, being a student meant that when H visited, it was very odd. The flat was not my home, and I was not 100% comfortable, which meant that I couldn’t relax. If he visited for a weekend (which he did, twice) then by the time we were getting used to each other, he had to leave; resulting in my distancing myself, so I didn’t have to feel the emotional drain as he said goodbye. Obviously this wasn’t the best thing I could have done, but at the time, nothing really made any sense.

It was lovely to have him down, but it meant extra cooking, cleaning AND less napping, which left me exhausted. Theo Prana noticed the change in atmosphere, with a new person around (which I hate writing because it saddens me that his Daddy is regarded as a new person) and would sleep less, needing me more. H doesn’t do well with sleep deprivation either so that was just another thing for me to stress about! But, even though I complained in the moments, I cherished the time as much as any sleep deprived, study stressed student mum could – and I made sure (I hope) that H knew even when I was a little upset, or I did complain, it wasn’t because I wanted to be mean, but because this slow form of torture was making me mad. Bless him he really did try, but Theo Prana would often not settle with him (apart form the first week in the hospital, and one miraculous occasion at H’s parents), choosing to scream instead, looking for me. Admittedly, this is a thing I am worried about for the future too; but now I feel that I am much better equipped to deal with it.

Before Christmas break, H managed a whole week visit and this time things changed incredibly. We had more than 60 hours together which meant that I relaxed, even though I knew the goodbye would be harder, and Theo Prana got used to his Daddy. H took him for a few hours on a couple of days, giving me the choice of study or nap, and that week I’m pretty sure I even managed a bath – though baby woke up and it was cut short! H also saw Theo Prana ill (3rd Vaccine set) with his first temperature, and realised I think, just how little sleep I was surviving off of. I spent the whole night with baby on my chest, sat upright; it was the hardest night I had by that point. The day later, we travelled to my in-laws where H’s family all got to meet Theo Prana, a trip I had desperately wanted to make a few weeks previously, but after the struggles of the trains and tubes, I understood why the universe had made me wait. We only spent 1 night there but it was an important one, and though I’m sure I seemed overly attentive and concerned, I wouldn’t change a thing.

The last time (to date) I saw H was a few weeks later. He was on call for work over Christmas, so made the choice to spend Christmas away, a decision that upset me greatly at the time despite the rational thought process behind it. Instead, he travelled to my patents on New Years Eve to spend 5 days with us. Being totally truthful, this was the hardest and most frustrating time. Any and every time we have been at my parents as a couple has been hard, I feel very torn between my family and H, and it has always ended up making me feel a more than a little stressed (and that was without the baby!). Adding to the general awkwardness and unease, this time I was super stressed with assignments and an exam to prep for plus Theo Prana was going through the 4-6 month sleep regression period, it was a difficult trip.

Side note: I absolutely LOVE this picture! Thank you Gerry Martinez; it’ll be one for the wall.

The trip was hard, and we fought a lot, I felt like H didn’t want to maximise the time with Theo Prana and tired as I was, I resented him for being away, for complaining that he was tired when he got a night’s rest, for having a social life that didn’t require being home by 7pm, and for not really understanding what parenthood is yet. He didn’t get up early, and even getting that photo was a huge effort (my hubby hates being in front of a camera, despite my love for photography), he was on his phone a lot and seemed bored with Theo Prana quickly; I felt wronged that I had to do everything. The thing is, in hindsight, I think a lot of it was me with the problem. I am thinking back to all these mental (and physical) conversations and I am laughing (silently – Theo is still sleeping) at my frustrations! I have grown a lot as a person since this photo was taken.

Admittedly, I don’t appreciate the complaints of tiredness when I was so heavily sleep deprived, or the expectation that my parents would pick up slack, but I think that maybe H was doing the same as I did on the short trips; distancing himself so the goodbye seemed easier. I try to put myself in his shoes, and I understand wanting to sleep all day and pretend that things were different, I understand feeling awkward in someone else’s house, no-matter how welcome they try and make you – because I am like this at his parents too (though to a lesser extent now I think). I feel like, in H’s shoes, I would have acted similar; though maybe not have gone quite as far, but looking back at the time as I am now, I cannot justify being angry or upset, because everyone copes differently; it must have killed him to know that he was only getting a few days with his baby, and while at the time I thought he would want to spend every second with Theo Prana, I understand now, that perhaps that would have made everything more difficult than it already was for him. After all, I know now how much being away from baby hurt when I did it last month.

***

These thoughts and feelings are all spinning in my head, it’s gone 1 am here and my brain doesn’t want to quiet. I leave to the UK, to our new house, and our new life in less than a week, starting a new adventure. I don’t yet know if H will be there, but I do know that at some point, this house is going to be our family house, and after packing today I think I am getting nervous. Overwhelmingly I am excited, but there are nerves creeping in, asking all the questions and forcing me to reflect. Theo Prana will meet his Daddy for the first time in a long time, it’ll be our first experience living together and our first time as a real family of 3… there is a lot that will be going on.

I am determined however, regardless of how challenging things may be, to be positive and mindful. 5 months ago I wasn’t ready to put myself into H’s shoes, and try to understand his version of the world; but now, though it will feel impossible at times, I know that I can step out of my own reality, and pause to understand his truth. I have grown enough to know that it is my job to stop and question myself before getting upset, and to try to drop my own agenda. I have learned a lot about parenthood in the past 9 months, but H hasn’t had that; he needs the time to learn it, and I need to give it to him, with love and patience being a constant.

The time without him felt like it would be impossible, but I got good at dealing with distance and I am proud to say we survived it. My relationship has been tried and tested before, and the trials we faced in our short trips are probably tiny in comparison to the challenges we have in store for us, but I know beyond a shadow of doubt that we will make things work beautifully. H is on my mind, so maybe he’ll visit my dreams, we shall see… for now, I’ll sign off.

Goodnight/day wherever you are

xxx R