You know that feeling when something feels like it’s happened too quickly, but also like it’s been the way life was forever? For example when you meet someone and you feel like you’ve known them before, but really you haven’t, or when you become so used to a new routine that you can’t believe you ever did things differently.

That is how I feel sat writing this.

My little boy is 7 months old today. When did that happen? The time has gone so quickly, even though moments are long and hard. I watched a video the other day and it really resonated with me, about long nights, but short years; especially as Theo Prana has been sick recently and the sleep deprivation has been extreme. That said, when I look back on the week, I don’t think about the tired mess I was, I think about my poorly baby, and how I wanted to take his pain away. That is motherhood; we care so much less about how rubbish we feel because our tiny humans are our focus.

In my short stint at motherhood, (though I feel like this is so entirely part of my identity now that I can’t imagine any other way of life) I have felt defeated, felt exhilarated, smiled, laughed, cried and much more. To mark 7 months, and because they have been on my mind a lot this last week, I am going to try to relive each month within a short paragraph.

Here goes:

Month 1:

Theo Prana entered the world on the 27th of July, at 3.17am and my labour was beautiful. Despite all my research I had no idea what to expect but it went wonderfully, and stayed present through most of it, though quickly after was off in coo-coo land because of a significant loss of blood. A week in hospital was not what I’d planned, especially because I wanted some family time with H (my husband) but I needed to recover, and this first month was exactly that: a month of recovery and bonding with my baby. Breastfeeding was an incredible challenge, one I am glad I have stuck to. Within the first 3 weeks there were several times where I thought I wouldn’t manage but we did! There were many long nights and many tired days, but I had my parents around and Theo Prana grew and changed almost daily. I look back at his newborn photos and can’t believe how much he’s grown – I miss the baby cuddles where he wouldn’t try and wiggle out my arms or steal my glasses!

Month 2:

Basically fully recovered, I made the most of the Gibraltar sun, and prepared to say goodbye to home. Theo Prana had his first flight and we came back to the UK for my final year of university. He was so good, despite all the changes and thankfully my dad spent a lot of time with us so I could settle in to my uni work. Theo had his first set of highly debated vaccinations and he piped up in all the right places during the Question Time event held by my faculty at the university, feeding in between he’s opinions. We had a lovely but short visit from H as well. It feels so unfair that he’s had hardly any time with baby but somehow the months have past and we are almost at the point where we will close the distance!

Month 3:

Very sleep deprived and stressed, I took trip back home for Theo Prana’s first Diwali. It was beautiful and a much-needed trip, though Diwali was his first real late night with no bed routine which resulted in about 3 weeks of absolute torture at bed time. He would just scream and scream. I think this is where he developed his disdain for the cot, and I was too sleep deprived to care so we began co-sleeping. Theo Prana smiled for the first time though and it was caught on camera by my housemate. He hardly slept during the day but he was always super good during lecturers, as long as he could feed when he wanted, there was never a problem.

Month 4:

I turned 21 and H came down again for a weekend, and my parents did a trip to the UK with my brother. I took Theo Prana to every lecture and decided to ask friends to babysit while I taught my weekly yoga classes. H came down again for a whole week this time and we took a trip up to see my in-laws which was fantastic, and Theo Prana had some proper time with his dad. During his 4th month Theo Prana had his first Christmas too, back home in Gibraltar which was fantastic, though my baby wasn’t feeling 100% on Christmas day and slept through lunch. I managed to get a lot of work done though and caught up on some sleep.

Month 5:

H came over for New Years and spent a week in Gibraltar with me and my parents. The trip wasn’t quite as planned but he got some time with Theo Prana. He left and a couple of days after I left with my dad back for my second (and last) term of university. Things were much harder in my flat and the pressure of assignments heightened but my dad was round for most of the month, making a spontaneous trip to see us and help us with travelling back to Gibraltar for the start of month 6!

Month 6:

This month has been intense. I have had so much uni work and somewhere in the midst of it H got deployed adding mental stress to my already full brain. On top of that, during my trip to Gibraltar I got bogged down with a flu-ish illness and did hardly any work, and when we got back, Theo Prana got sick and put on antibiotics. This month was meant to be when we started weaning but we haven’t got very far because with one thing and another it hasn’t happened and Theo Prana just threw up everything he was eating for quite while. Between my parents at home and my dad (who’s basically lived in Portsmouth this term) with me here, we’ve managed the month pretty well, though it’s been the most challenging yet. That said, it’s also been the most rewarding because he can now sit up entirely straight and is comfortable there, can roll over both ways and is smiling a laughing and making lots of sounds. He is an absolute joy!

Month 7:

We shall have to wait and see! I anticipate lots of messy floors, sticky palms and gooey faces, tired nights and daytime naps. Theo Prana starts nursery this month so we shall see where that takes us as well.

These last 7 months have been the hardest of my entire life. People talk about labour as this big, scary and painful thing that women go through; and sometimes it is, but I think it’s only a microcosm of what motherhood is. Labour pain in a weird way prepares us for the hardship of motherhood. And with immense pain, motherhood brings immense joy. These 7 months have been incredibly difficult but they have also been the best 7 months in my life. I cannot imagine life without my life force now, and even in the hard moments there is cause for smiles and laughter because there is so much love. Theo Prana is so attached and sometimes it gets frustrating but really when I take a breath, I can see that all it is him saying “mummy I want to be with you, I love you” and everything melts. I would carry him 24 hours a day if I had to, it would be hard but I would do it. I will keep him in my bed for 5 years if that’s what he wants, even if it means less sleep for me, because it won’t last forever and someday he will want to be on his own. When it happens, many mums have told me that I will miss the nights together so until then, I’ll cuddle him lots and laugh as much as we can! I don’t want to take any day or night for granted, because my baby is 7 months today but I know in the blink of an eye he’ll be 1 year, then 2 and then 10 and I don’t want to miss a second of it.

Xx

R

When I was pregnant, everyone talked to me about the sleep deprivation that comes with babies. The two most discussed things were my idea about coming back to finish my degree, and the sleeplessness that parenthood brings. I did all the research about labour and breastfeeding, sleep arrangements and vaccinations. I searched baby milestones and teething, googled baby massage and bought Gina Ford. I looked at any and everything that I thought would be needed… but somehow I managed to miss the bits about food.

Weaning a baby is seriously the most difficult thing I have done yet. The nights of little sleep, the crying, the initial struggle to establish breastfeeding – I would do it all again rather than feel so damn confused and tired of food. The worry and questions in my head are endless and its exhausting.

What if I wean him wrong?

Is he going to choke?

Did he eat that or throw on the floor?

Has it got salt?

Has it got sugar?

Is it nutritious?

What’s in it?

How on earth do I know if I’m doing this right?

Around Christmas, when Theo Prana was around 4 and a half months old, desperate for sleep, I accepted my mum’s suggestion of baby rice in the evenings. He took to it like a fish in water, having a little every night mixed with my breastmilk. After 10 days or so, I left back to the UK and gave up. Feeding a baby is a loud and messy affair, something that I was worried about. Theo Prana refused to feed with me anyway, fighting to be in charge of the spoon and so I decided just boob feeds would be fine for a while; after all, he was only 5 months.

Come 6 months and I figured now was a good time. I got a high chair from the charity shop near my road, and some beautiful bamboo plates and a bowl. I had a food net, and some storage boxes already. We were ready… except I wasn’t. How on earth do you wean a baby in a small, unfriendly flat, trying to make minimal noise and mess while avoiding puree foods.

You can’t.

I tried. I am still trying.

My trip to Gibraltar was a mixture of traditional weaning and baby led weaning, of which he seems to prefer the latter. At home we have my dog so anything he chucked on the floor got eaten by her and there wasn’t a problem. With at least 3 adults in the house, someone was always on hand to either clean while I took baby, or take baby while I cleaned. Now back in Portsmouth, my dad is helping me with it for the moment, but I can already feel myself dreading the weeks until I am home.

Yesterday, Theo Prana thew up absolutely everything he had at dinner, including a good amount of milk, and then happily went on to eat half my jacket potato – well he probably ate about a quarter and the rest ended up on the floor. I try to keep my cool if he gags because I know it’s a normal reflex, but it’s really quite difficult, and when all his portion ends up on the floor, he wants mine, to also throw down. It’s quite entertaining but also really stressful.

The next weeks and months are so important in order to establish good feeding habits for him. I will continue to breastfeed until he no longer wants to, but I know that he needs to explore food and begin to take in nutrients from it. At the same time, I have a hell of a lot of uni work going on, with added mental stress making these next weeks seem more daunting than ever. A clingy, teething, weaning baby, a dissertation, other assignments, a long distance marriage, and a difficult flat situation; it’s all feeling a little overwhelming.

I wanted to write more, but there has been no opportunity. I wanted to play more, but I feel like I should be working. I wanted to finish assignments, but I got ill and felt guilty leaving my baby for long periods.

This motherhood thing is hard.

I guess ultimately, I can’t know if I am doing it wrong. I can be honest and do my best, and I am doing that. I wish Theo Prana could tell me whats going on, but of course that isn’t anywhere near possible, and the more advice I get the more confused I am. Weaning is proving super challenging and I hope it will get better, but I think that it’s not so much that the weaning is hard, just all the other stuff is making it seem harder. At the end of the day, when he is older, if he asks I will tell Theo Prana that I did my best, that motherhood is difficult and that nobody is perfect.

He is hungry, but I am feeding him; and he is growing and healthy, so I’ll be content with that.

And I am coping. Some days are better than others, and some days I want to just quit so that my focus can be entirely on my son. The bad days are hard, but the good days are wonderful, and in less than 3 months I will have my own home, and be in a completely different situation. The end is in sight but the road just feels very bumpy in order to get there.

The moment I found out I was pregnant was not a joyous one.

I did not have the excitement, or happiness that you see on Clearblue adverts. I was not thrilled by the fact that there was a tiny human being inside me. I was terrified.

Of course, not everyone’s story is like mine – but there are many, many women who do not expect or do not want to be pregnant. Some, like me, make the choice to continue with their pregnancy, learn to accept it and in time enjoy it. Others, continue their pregnancy because they have to; even though it is not what they want. In my birthplace, there is an ongoing debate about whether women should be allowed the opportunity to consider termination as an option, and so, inspired by the debate, I have sat down to write.

I do not claim to speak for women in general, nor do I assume that everyone who is pro-choice will have the same reasons for their belief. But I want to share my person views on this topic, because I believe, very strongly, that abortion is not a privilege, and that we should remove the societal stigma associated with it.

When I found out I was pregnant, a lot went through my mind. I was confused, scared, and despite my partner being in the next room, I felt alone. This was my body, and my life that was about to be turned entirely upside-down. As a student, and a young woman, I had plans, I had dreams, and I had every intention of living my life to the fullest, before I wanted to start a family. My partner and I talked, and the next morning I went to see my GP. I immediately asked about my options, including termination, because I needed to know all the avenues I could choose from. My GP arranged a visit to the BPAS clinic and there I was allowed to discuss everything I was feeling, all my thoughts and concerns, and I was given a lot of information about every option I had.

Still unsure, I booked a termination.

This was not a whimsical decision. I spent many nights thinking about it, and I spent many hours trying to process all of my emotions. Like many women, I chose not to tell anyone I knew, and so I was very much alone. Personally, I needed it this way, because it meant that apart from professional information and discussion, I had no other influences (aside from my partner, who was extremely supportive).

The process I went through involved speaking to multiple medical professionals, and then at the end, I explained that my heart was still heavy, and I needed some more time to process what was happening. I booked a termination for 2 weeks later, and was assured I could cancel it at any time if I decided not to go ahead.

This was empowering.

I knew that regardless of my decision, I was in control. My body, still in the very early stages of pregnancy, showed no signs of my baby. I researched all the options I had discussed, and I learned that termination was as much a trauma for the body as childbirth. It is not something that women go into lightly, and the effects that it can have are sometimes lasting. Still, I knew that I had a choice.

The fact that I had the choice was what mattered. The fact that I could decide what to do, allowed me to feel like things would be okay. The reality I had to face was hard; because either choice that I made, I would have to process, emotionally and physically, but the fact that I had the choice, made all the difference.

I went from being a terrified girl in the bathroom, wondering how the hell she got there, to a woman with a difficult decision to make about her life.

After a lot of deliberation, sleepless nights and difficult hours, I eventually made the choice to cancel my termination appointment. I was confident when I did so, because I had been given the time to consider what I wanted. I knew that I couldn’t control what was going to happen, but I felt liberated by the knowledge that it was my decision at the end of the day. I embraced the curve-ball that the universe threw at me, and almost 18 months later I am embracing everything that motherhood brings now too. I have an immense network of support. My village is large, spanning cities and countries, and I know that I am privileged to have the support that I do. I knew I had this village when I made my decision; if not, I might have made a different one.

Six months after my baby was born, after hours of study, I sit and I write this. I love my son immensely, and I wouldn’t change the decision I made. Yet even now, there are moments that I wonder what my life would have been like, I would not have the same struggles, and I would not face the same battles.

In no way to I regret my decision; my baby is the best thing in my life right now, and the love I have for him is immeasurable, but a lot of my love and appreciation stems from the fact that I made the decision to continue with my pregnancy and to birth my baby. If I had been robbed of that choice; if I had not been allowed to consider the idea that motherhood was not what I wanted at the time, then I think somewhere inside me, even with all the love, there would have been a feeling of grief. I am privileged to have been allowed to choose, and for that I am grateful.

Abortion is not a privilege.

If we teach our children that the choices they make will shape their lives, then we should be encouraging as much choice as possible. Nobody, young or old, wise or foolish deserves to be backed into the corner of having a baby they did not plan or or do not want. We empower people with choices, and we encourage real thought in order to make decisions.

Abortion may not be something you would choose. It may be something you have never thought about. It may be something that you were denied. We tend to ignore the controversial issues in small conversations, but I encourage you to break this norm. Lets talk about this. Let’s put abortion on the agenda, because once it is there, we not only empower women with the choice about their bodies, but we inspire our children to be a little bit more open minded, and we encourage societal change.

I know there is a stigma about co-sleeping so before you read this and judge me, I would never do anything to put my baby in harms way, and I would only ever advocate co-sleeping when free from drugs, alcohol and anything that would make it unsafe, including other children with very small babies.

From the start of my pregnancy I had looked a co-sleeping. There were so many benefits, it saved the cost of a cot and bedding, and I’m a student, I live in my room, I didn’t really want to have a huge cot in it! Don’t get me wrong, I have not held back on the baby stuff but I was definitely assessing all my options.
However… with all the benefits came all the advice and warnings against sleeping with a baby. And so, I decided against it. I went against my instincts, and like a robot mum I consented to the cot, and listened to everyone who told me that if I didn’t teach my baby to sleep on his own, I would regret it.

I promised that I would teach Theo Prana to use his cot, after all, who wants baby cuddles all night really?!

So as my pregnancy progressed my parents bought us a mini cot in Gibraltar. It was a blessing! Despite my views on co-sleeping both then and now, I am truly grateful for the first 6 weeks of sleeping in my own bed… my parents, as they almost always do, got it right.

Using the cot meant that Theo Prana got a decent amount of sleep and I could sleep awkwardly with far too many pillows as my body healed from the trauma of birth. He would wake and I would feed him, burp him settle him and then an hour or 2 later, we’d do the same. Essentially, like most new mums will know, I got very little sleep those first weeks. The little sleep I got was precious, and I didn’t have to worry about squishing my tiny human while I got it. Then we came to the UK and like I had done at home, I used a cot. My grandparents gifted us one that was initially bought for my brother to use when we visited on family holidays. We brought it to Portsmouth and it is now sat beside me as I type this, filled with toys and my baby carrier, baby clothes and I’m pretty sure a box of celebrations.

From having help 24/7, I was alone for days and weeks… with uni work and house drama. My parents, the amazing humans they are, helped a lot when they visited, but we had to deal with being alone. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy every moment I get with my son, we are alone now and it’s hard but we make the most of it. But a few months ago, it was new territory, and I was like a walking zombie.

He went into his cot after long periods of crying. He would get up to feed and then be restless as he fell asleep, kicking the cot and basically preventing me from sleeping. Slowly but surely I gave in to the sleep deprivation.

Less and less he stayed in his cot, and more and more he ended up in my bed. First it was from 5am, then 3am-ish, then 2am, 1am, 11.30, and finally I stopped bothering entirely. From around the end of November, Theo Prana has slept in my bed all night, every nignt. And I am a lot happier!

Overall, I wouldn’t go back. I love having him in my bed, and if I have to co-sleep until he’s 5 then that’s what I’ll do – there is nothing better than curling up with your baby at the end of the day.

I’m a bit late to the party, but this is something I wanted to do months ago – I just haven’t managed to get round to it. That kind of feels like my life nowadays: if it’s not to do with Theo Prana, or uni, it just doesn’t happen.

I saw a lot of blogs, and Instagram posts about the transition from 2017 to 2018, with everyone hoping that 2018 is a better one, and that they can find themselves or catch their break this year. I genuinely hope that this happens for people, I hope that my family and friends find happiness, love and light in their lives during this year, and I hope that as 2019 comes close, people can look back at this year fondly.

However, personally, I want to set my intentions differently. I have my overall hopes and dreams for the year, but I also want to see them materialise, and I want to plan ahead. I know, very deeply, that the universe will always find a way of showing us that it is in charge, no-matter how much we try to plan ahead, but setting my years intentions seems to vague. I am choosing to sit down this evening and think not about the year as a whole, but rather about each month.

As those of you who read my blog will know, I am a student mum, and in my final year; so each month this year brings new challenges and new hopes. Really, I’d like to get into the practice of setting daily intentions, but for now, I think I will stick to this, and see how it goes. Read on for my hopes and dreams (realistic ones of course)…

January: Okay, so this one is a little late, but we are only 9 days into the month, so better late than never right!? This month I move back to university for my last term. I left my flat at uni feeling very worried about this term, I felt like I wasn’t welcome (or at least comfortable) in my own flat, and I was overwhelmed with the amount of work that I had to do. Now that I am back, I am determined not to feel the same. I want to relax with Theo Prana and play with him when he is awake and needs me, and work in the nights if and when I can… I am comfortably co-sleeping and I am actively choosing not to fight against my lack of space, personal time and sleep deprivation: not of it will last forever, and so I will enjoy even the hard parts (as much as I can anyway).

My intention for this month is to let go. I like being in control and so this month I am hoping to learn to let that go a little, and enjoy the time than I can.

February: Dissertation hand in month! Well, it’s my final draft hand in and right now that feels like miles away, so it’s definitely going to be a month of stress … my aim therefore, is to take the stress, put it in a box, and only let it out during work times. I am someone who thrives of a little academic pressure, so this month, I want to put it to use, but also make sure it doesn’t get in the way of Theo Prana’s growth. I don’t want to be distracted!

I am blessed to already know that I get to take 12 days off and go home (work hard but also take a break and be with my mum – we basically share a brain so this is always awesome), aaannnd, my fantastic father is coming to see me again! He will be spending 2 weeks with me, to help me with Theo Prana so that I can work. I know that I am extremely lucky because not everyone would have their dad come and live in their student flat and babysit – he is a star.

March: My final month at uni. And my only month alone (as it stands) so this month my intention is to be strong. I know that I will have work to do, but it will be my last month of lectures so I want to make the most of it, learn a lot, and stay strong while I cope with motherhood and student life. The month is probably going to fly by.

April: Dissertation deadline, a yoga course in Gibraltar, and hopefully my moving out of the flat. This month is going to have an ethos of work, work and more work.

May: Relax! Hopefully Theo Prana and I will be moving in with H, and so we will get some family time. I have a couple of last deadlines in May, but apart from that, I am finally a free agent. I don’t quite know how things will go yet, so this month is up in the air. My goal is to celebrate… literally everything. I want to make the most of every single thing that happens, and be happy, and play with my baby. The month of May is intended as a joyous one.

June: Summer is here. I absolutely love summer, but have no plans for this month. We may end up going home to Gibraltar for the summer, which would be wonderful, but all depends on H’s work, and what we decide as a family.

This month though, I want to take my focus to my yoga practice. I want to start learning and dedicating time every single day to my physical and mental practice. I hope to do this a little sooner, but knowing myself as I do, I feel that setting it as my intention for June is the right way to go.

July: Wow, I can’t believe how close this is – Theo Prana will turn 1 and I will (hopefully) graduate. This month I also want to celebrate life; I want to write more, and learn. Practice both on and off my mat, and swim in the ocean, which sounds exotic but is very normal in Gibraltar so I want to utilise this blessing. This month I want to relive my year with my baby, and write about it, sharing my experience if I can; telling my truth.

August: My baby brother goes to uni (hopefully!). I hope and pray that my brother gets the uni he wants, and that his journey getting there is kind. I will be on hand to help if and when I can, but I know that this will be a big learning curve, so we will be there as support if needed.

This month I want to focus on my family. Keeping practising yoga, and try to introduce Theo into my practice a little more. I want to keep writing and I want to express myself, without worrying what other people may thing.

September onwards: Gosh I don’t know how people do their yearly intentions. Breaking them down has been hard enough and I have guidelines of what should be happening every month. I won’t even pretend that I have set intentions for after the summer because it is much too far away and we will all be different people by then.

I hope that I will be back with H by then, if not fairly soon after, and that we can work on making our little family as happy and secure as possible. I want to make our house a home, and I want to build on my marriage because we really haven’t had a chance to do that yet.

Realistically though, there is no way of knowing what I will want or hope in 8 months time, so I won’t write any more on it.

My intentions for the year are to strive towards happiness. I want to live each day with love and surround my family and friends with light. I want to be strong, and work hard, and I want my baby to be happy and healthy.

They are not extraordinary ambitions; in fact, the more ordinary the better I think (I am inspired by the Dutch in this thinking). I hope that 2018 is a wonderful year, and I hope that it is kind for everyone, but I also hope that it teaches me, and helps me grow. I want to look back and feel fulfilled by the year, knowing that I made the most of everything I could.

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P.S. Photo credit to my Mum’s beautiful friend Gerry. She has done my blessing photos and did a pre-natal shoot with me too!

Why do we romanticise pregnancy?

It is literally such a trauma for the body, and even without complications, a woman’s body is never the same.

I love my son more than life itself, and I would never wish to be without him; he is the reason I wake up in the morning (literally 😂) but that is not to say that having him comes without its costs.

I wish I had known that having a baby would mean my hips stopped working, and that my abdomen would split open, and that getting my butt muscles to work would feel like the challenge of the century to me.

More and more recently I feel that we do women a big disservice by romanticising pregnancy – we should prepare new mothers, not just for the sleep deprivation and the worry that their child is still breathing when they sleep as still as a statue at night, but also for the reality that their body will not ‘bounce back’ for months and sometimes years.

Having a baby is a joy that cannot be described and I would not swap it for the world, but it is not good enough to say ‘you have no idea whats coming’ or ‘you wait and see’. I know everyone’s experiences are different, but I wish we would talk about them and be more truthful than we are. It is not helping anyone to hide the hard bits.