A week ago I walked across the stage, officially graduating from the University of Portsmouth.

The past week has been filled with lots of nostalgia, a bittersweet feeling of goodbye, and a lot of gratitude. I thought that I would write and reminisce about my time at university, detailing different memories; but honestly, that’s more for my private journal than here. Instead, I want to share the best 5 things that came out of my university career.

Number 1

I got educated. I don’t mean academically, though of course that happened too; I mean I got an education that wasn’t possible living at home, in my small hometown.

I learned how to live alone, how to shop for myself, how to pay bills and how to figure out what my next meal was gonna be.

I got educated through my friends, learned about different backgrounds, and explored the labels I had given myself and other people. I have bettered myself through this education, becoming more open-minded and progressive in my thinking and lifestyle.

Number 2

I made friends. This sounds like a cliché but having had close friendships end very sadly before university, I wasn’t sure I’d actually manage to fit in. Now I have come to accept that I will never fit it, but that I can still have the most amazing friends.

I have had some rough patches and been close to people and then drifted, but I know that there are a few really great friends, who I can count on, call and who I hope to stay in contact with for many years to come.

Number 3

My Family. This is a long one, because there are a few parts, and it’s the most personal.

I) I got married. Admittedly, this isn’t a goal or reality for most university students in their early 20s but it has been my reality and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Working on my relationship with my partner has been one of the biggest challenges because being away with our son, while he worked to support us, meant that we have almost never been on the same page at the same time. I am grateful that he encourages my madness and ambition, and I look forward to actually spending time as a family soon.

II) I had a baby (I know this isn’t most people’s goal either!).

My son has taught me more than I can write here. I have learned about motherhood, about myself, about food, and babies and toddlers. I have learned that more often that not, my instinct is right. I have functioned sleep deprived and I have celebrated every small milestone he has had. I was told once that these things matter more to mums than dads but eventually they don’t matter; but I know that they do matter.

III) I began to appreciate my family (blood-family) very differently.

My relationship with my parents has evolved drastically since I left to university. I left, sad but excited to be moving away, but over the years, even before my baby arrived, I saw home in a very different light. I know that I have some of my biggest supporters in my parents and brother. My mum and I have an exceptionally close relationship, and I am incredibly close to my dad. My little brother and I don’t always see eye to eye but I cherish him dearly and I know that our relationship will grow once he leaves for university too. I see how hard it is to run a house now, and the dedication I somehow previously took for granted, and I have begun to understand what I want to make my own home like with my husband and our baby now.

Number 4

I learned my voice matters. This is a big one for me. While I have always been a vocal person within groups I know, being at university taught me that as long as I can back up my opinion, I cannot be wrong.

I am not always right, far from it, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I have learned, and am still learning that there is literally always going to be someone who disagrees with me, but it’s not my job to please everyone.

Being at university has given me the confidence to stand up and be vocal about what I believe. And to, where reasonable, call people out on their bullshit too.

Number 5

Lastly, university has taught me to believe in myself. Another cliché I know, but it’s true! I have overcome obstacles that I never imagined facing, and I have learned that hard work really does have incredible results.

I took part in a lot of stuff at university, I made friends, I broadened my views and I swallowed some bitter pills too. I have friends who have faced incredible trauma and adversity through their university career’s, and I have others who have seemingly had life handed to them. Each journey has been different, but none less important than another. My journey let me to graduate with a 1st Class Honours in Politics and International Relations, alongside being awarded (jointly) a prize for “Student of the Year” within my faculty.

I proudly celebrated with the most important people in my life, and I had an amazing day. I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity’s I have had, and I know that there are many more experiences to learn from, both within academia and outside of it. Every single person I have met and interacted with has helped shape my future to be what it is today, and I am so thankful for that.

Thank you for the support. Thank you for the inspiration. Thank you for the opportunity.

xoxo

R

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