I am heading back to work on Monday, it’s currently the Friday before.
I feel like I should document this because writing it down seems to be the only way I can make sense of how I feel.
If you were to ask me how I feel, I couldn’t tell you. I could show you with the look on my face or my ability to change the subject. But I couldn’t tell you with actual words.
I just feel pain. A really deep as your core, pain.
I have already had the welcome back to work emails, the handover notes that haven’t been done (GOD FORBID ANYONE BEING ORGANISED ENOUGH TO GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER!) and the ‘Year 9 are currently doing Conflict and Power poetry’ talk. But it all seems blah. Which is exactly how I feel. BLAH.
Really, I want to stay in my little baby bubble.
I don’t want anything major, no lottery win or a huge inheritance. I just want to be able to take my little girl to school, when the day comes. I just want to see her walk for the first time and I don’t want someone telling me about it that’s seen it first.
FUCK WORK. FUCK LIFE. IT FUCKING SUCKS.
Things that have been important to me throughout the first seven months of Baby M:
- Having at least three pairs of black leggings; one on, one washing, one spare.
- How important it is to have a black black pair of leggings (the ones that don’t show your two year old pair of knickers when you bend over!) for special occasions.
- Having a routine. FOR EVERYTHING. Even cleaning bottles and washing. THERE IS SO MUCH WASHING.
- Not listening to other Mums who think they are the Mother of God.
- Not dwelling on the fact that I could only breastfeed for the first 11 days, and how I should not feel guilty about that.
- Remembering FED IS BEST.
- Noting that men do not want to change nappies. At all. EVER. Even if they are safe ones.
- Coming to terms with how my husband will find it difficult to understand that looking after a baby IS the equivalent of going to work. And therefore he cannot possibly be more tired than me.
- Housework can wait. Unfortunately, it will still be there.
- Realising I cannot just ‘pop’ anywhere, anymore, for as long as I live.
Or…what wasn’t in my hospital bag, that should be the question. As a first time Mum everyone and their aunt was telling me what to take. And everyone will tell you too. But when it comes down to it, I’m pushing a melon out of my region and I will take whatever the hell I like.
So I did:
Three night dresses
Flip flops for the shower
Two nursing bras
6 BLACK knickers
Pack of disposable knickers (THAT I DIDN’T USE!)
Going home outfit
Bath and hair towel
Hand held fan
Snacks (mainly for Matthew because it was a ‘long day’ apparently)
Money for the hospital car park
The black knickers are important, for obvious reasons, and a dark coloured towel too. I was bought disposable knickers (lovely I know!) but I decided that after pushing human life out of me, I deserved real knickers. Giant knickers but real.
I was told to take makeup in too. Like f**k. Do people honestly believe that I would be concerned about applying my concealer, and drawing on my eyebrows, that NEVER match!?!?!? Unless you’re already a super together Mum, tell them to shove the foundation up their special place.
If I’ve learnt anything from packing and repacking my bag a hundred times is – don’t let anyone tell you what to take. You need to feel as comfortable as possible and only you know what that entails.
Let people have their say and their opinion, and then leave the paper knickers at home. You’re already a super frigging human and you pack whatever you bloody well like!
Love, Aimee X
I thought I had it 80% together. I thought. I assumed. I almost prayed…
The other 20% involves me flapping about like I’m standing on hot coals – is the bottle warm enough? Cold enough? Did I descale the steriliser? Is she too hot? Too cold? Did I wash my hair in the shower? Can I wear the same pair of leggings for the third day in a row? Is wearing a bra essential?
I took my 80% self and beautiful bubba to the supermarket, Daddy needed fruit for his lunch, and I saw it as an opportunity to get out. Get some air. Make an effort. Put on a bra.
I’m walking around the supermarket like a ‘I’ve got it together Mumma’ – warm bottle in the bag, 56 nappies, wipes and a book – just in case. I’m doing okay. Baby girl is asleep and I’m watching her like a bomb disposal expert stares at a device…waiting for it to go off.
I purchase said fruit and make it back home. Baby girl is none the wiser of the trip and I’ve have made it home in one piece, with the little human still alive and well. I’m feeling great and almost proud of our conquest and then it happens…
I go to use the bathroom, and before I lift up my jumper dress I find that, in fact, the 20% of me is still, very much, at large. I have a bib stuck to the back of my dress. Yes, that’s right. The velcro of a bib attached itself to my arse.
And that, my friends, is why I ate a whole bar of family sized chocolate…after I used the bib for the next feed.
Love, Aimee x
I haven’t posted for a while, I’ve been a little busy:
- Growing a human
- Pushing out a human
- Keeping a human alive.
She is my greatest accomplishment and she’s called Emilia. My little love.
Labour was interesting. Nobody really tells you the gross bits like how your waters breaking makes you feel like a pre-potty trained toddler. At one point, I just watched it. Literally watched me wet myself, uncontrollably. By the third incident I gave up apologising to the midwife, and succumbed to the fact my sex life was over with Matthew.
The ring of fire is a thing too. A real, very real thing. In actual terms it’s like being on fire, doing the biggest poo of your life and being smashed in the regions with a sledge hammer. All at the same time.
During this point your partner might be doing one or all of the following:
- Watching YouTube
- Drinking your ice water
- Trialing your gas and air
- Opening windows because the heat is unbareable.
Matthew completed all 6. He is nothing but thorough…
Labour lasted 26 hours and was very painful at the end. But when my little bundle was placed on my chest, the pain disappeared. My heart burst with love and my brain was already coming up with ways to protect her from all harm.
After the ordeal, the midwife bought me in some toast, Matthew said it was nice…
He said that he fell in love with me all over again, which was lovely to hear seeing as:
- I’d wet myself three times
- Thrown up on numerous occasions
- Told him that if he came near me again that I’d put his balls into a vice
- Said that if he mentioned tiredness one more time that I would cut his genitals off
- Warned him of divorce if he drank anymore of my ice water
- Squeezed his hand so hard I thought his eyes were going to pop out.
It’s surprising how quickly you adapt to your new life. Matthew is besotted and I have my forever friend.
I love her, completely.
Love Aimee X
As my pregnancy progresses I have formed into what can only be described as a toddler. My main priorities are: napping and food. I’m already thinking about what I am having for dinner as I’m cutting my cheese sandwich in half and yawning.
So yesterday it’s 9am and Matthew and I are deciding what we should do with the day, working around eating times, obviously. He suggested going to our local shopping centre and this was my process:
“Can I be bothered to put on a bra?”
“Does the Metro have Krispy Crème?”
“Have I washed my ‘fat day’ leggings?”
After asking and answering these questions in a Shakespearean style soliloquy, I decided that doughnuts were worth putting a bra on for.
What has my life come to?
Love Aimee and Baby M.
I’m not going to lie, my priorities during this pregnancy have been very limited but consistent. Those priorities being:
Yep. Just two. And I do honestly, fear for these two if I go out at times that don’t fit in with my sleep/food routine.
I like to be in my pyjamas by 9pm so that I can relaz. HAHAHAHAHA. Who am I kidding? I’m pyjama’d up by about 4pm. Absolutely loving life. And, of course, I must have access to all foods at all times. Even ones I don’t want.
Matthew nearly got in the way of the food situation last night. It was nearly fatal. FOR HIM. He’s learning quickly though.
What are your priorities?
Love Aimee and Baby M.
Since knowing I was going to be a mum I have been searching everywhere for bargains. Not that we necessarily need to be hunting high and low for them, but I get a kick out of saving money. I have already signed up to Bounty and Emma’s Diary and have collected some of my mummy packs (which are great by the way!)
So I have been scouring Ebay like a mad woman saving and watching everything that’s pretty, girly and pink. It’s being driving Matthew mad, as every 15 minutes he’ll either get a reminder notification or a ‘YOU WON!’. He says I have issues…
My four little purchases came through yesterday and I was overjoyed! All of the items are brand new with tags and are bloody adorable!
- Pair of 9-12 George cargo trousers in khaki. These are absolutely adorable and so soft! As you can see, their main colour is an army green and part of the pockets and turns up are of a bright orange colour and florally. I just thought they’d be perfect for activity days 🙂
- John Lewis 9-12 blue corduroy bunny dress. I love corduroy! I love the feeling and the look, it reminds me of the winter months and layering. The dress is dotted with little white rabbits, pink flowers and green leaves. It’ll be perfect over a baby grow and white a pair of white woolly tights.
- MandCo 9-12 white cotton and blue dress. This dress is beautiful. It’s cool white cotton so ideal for a little active munchkin and the blue embroidered hem just adds a beautiful nautical touch. This adorable number also has a tie up at the back which you can make a bow with. So so cute!
- Matalan 9-12 pink and white check dress. This one is probably my favourite. It’s material is almost a soft boucle one and a warm outfit for the winter. It’s super soft and has a pretty gold thread running through it. It has two working pockets on the front that have a lace overlay. This is a very girly dress and will work perfectly with white tights.
I’m so excited for Baby M to be here. Not so excited about the melon size of it coming out of me though.
Love Aimee and Baby M.
Of an anything, at the moment. You would not believe. These are the dreams to date that are totally bizarre and had me waking up in cold sweats:
- I was abducted and placed into an Italian Convent in Serbia where I was made to smile all day and eat blended vegetables. I was then expected to report back to the Chief regarding the condition of the blended vegetables, with a smile.
- I was 6 months pregnant and at the cinema, standard. People were coming up to me saying that my waters had broken, they hadn’t, and that I must go to hospital. Forced into hospital, I was pleading with nurses to listen to me but they wouldn’t. So I wasn’t in labour but everyone thought I was. Before I knew it, people were coming in to congratulate me on the birth of my child, that I didn’t have.
- My baby was 4 weeks old and I forgot to feed her. She didn’t cry or anything but I randomly remembered that I hadn’t bought any milk.
I wake up confused and concerned for my own mental sanity on a daily basis. Vivid dreams are normal during pregnancy, but this is taking the biscuit!
Love Aimee and Baby M.
There’s nothing mysterious about that title is there!
Hormones really suck. I cried last night because we didn’t have scones, jam and clotted cream ready to hand (as if this is standard purchase for the average weekly food shop!) But not just tears in my eyes, a proper full on meltdown. So much so that Matthew just told me to go to bed because I must be tired.
Yes I was tired.
TIRED OF NOT HAVING SCONES, JAM AND CREAM!
TIRED OF ALDI NOT BEING OPEN 24 HOURS FOR MY IRRATIONAL NEEDS.
So after being summoned to bed, I stormed upstairs (teenage style) and shouted down that I would be moving to Devon or Cornwall where they have scones, jam and cream on tap. Matthew wants a postcard.
It seems that this pregnancy has actually converted me into the three year older that I will have, in three years time. I woke up this morning absolutely fine, like nothing had happened.
Scones, jam and cream are now making me feel nauseous. I HATE hormones.
Love Aimee and Baby M.