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

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.