Fleming Family – Rustler’s Burger Hack

We received a lovely little challenge from Britmums and Rustlers to come up with our very own family Rustlers burger hack!

As I am currently on a slimming world diet to shift the baby weight and my husband can eat whatever he wishes without any added pounds it can often be hard to cook a meal which I don’t feel guilty about and that he enjoys!

Now we have Nandy time is always of the essence and cooking has become a rather painful thing as we have to try and stop him breaking into drawers and cupboards whilst we chop vegetables and keep a close watch that he isn’t pulling a plan of boiling water on himself!

So thankyou to Rustlers for saving the day! We purchased a twin pack of their chicken burgers knowing it would make lunchtime with a toddler quicker and easier.

We headed off to our local Tesco and purchased lots of salad for Mummy and burgers, I would feel less guilty having a side of salad and daddy opted for cheese and sauce on his. We all created our very own personalised burger using different toppings and sides!

Why don’t you try the Rustlers burger hacking challenge by heading to your local Tesco and buying some ingredients?

This post is an entry for the Britmums Rustlers burger hacking challenge, sponsored by Rustlers.

Rebecca & Nandy


Mummy has got to work, Mummy is busy

When I first went back to work after maternity leave it wasnt so bad, Max was still too young to fully comprehend I was leaving him for hours and hadn’t started to pull on my heart strings. It also helps that I don’t do any of the nursery drop offs or pick ups due to my working hours, so I miss that moment of crying at the door or upset as he has to say goodbye for the day.

Because I had accrued a number of weeks holiday I have been fortunate to get 1 week per month off work for the last 5 months so returning to work has been a nice easy transition. I’ve been able to see my baby and know that it’s only another few weeks until I get another break.

It’s safe to say I’ve been dreading January. Our new year starts, a new year of annual leave, a whole year of working. Only 25 days to spread over the year. More time at work. Less time with my boy.

This Christmas has been a lovely break, 10 days off as a family. We really socialised and spent quality time together. Safe to say I was dreading going back to work. The first day back was made special by the fact that he greeted me at the door by walking unaided to me for a cuddle!! The best feeling ever.

Second day back – was even more of a strain. After leaving Home at 6:45am and missing breakfast, missing teeth brushing and dress time not to mention missing the nursery run – I got to work for a reasonable time. In fact the first person there! Not bad really for a mum who commutes a distance!

I couldn’t wait to get home and see my boy before bedtime, to at least renew the fact that I’d missed so much of his routine. I never cook his dinner, I never read him a story and I never get him into his pjs. That’s when I got a text from a colleague at 5pm to say the motorway was hell and to avoid it like the plague! Great! So what should be a 45-60 minute journey could possibly take 90 minutes.

I set off and headed off the beaten track on my plan B route home. A route taken many a time before when I was child free and hometime wasn’t such of importance. All was going well I was 75 minutes in and that’s when I struck the queues of cars trying to avoid the lorry fire which had closed the M5! 80 minutes after departing the office my legs ache from stop start driving and my mum bladder is about to explode under pressure. I call hubby to ask him to keep dinner warm and try and keep Max awake so I can selfishly get snuggles.

90 minutes later …. still stuck.

100 minutes later …. still stuck

110 minutes later – nearly there

120 minutes after departing the office I finally pull onto the driveway at home and run into the house to find Max upstairs just on his way to bed. He immediately holds open his arms to me and snuggles into me, his eyes closing through tiredness.

That’s it – I couldn’t hold back – I burst into tears as all the stress of the commute pour out of me. I’ve missed everything again. No story, no teeth brushing, no pjs, no playtime, I haven’t cooked his dinner. His hair smelt fresh from his bath, which I had also missed. Within 1 minute I was placing him down in his cot and closing the door behind me.

I walked into our bedroom and sobbed. Guilt, tiredness, hormones…. just felt so crappy. Crappy that traffic, being a worker mum forced a wedge between me and my ability to be a mum.

I turned to my husband and just apologised for being shit. For putting all the pressure on him. For not being there.

Motherhood – My loss of Confidence 

I haven’t updated the blog for a while, because I’ve returned to work and in general found it hard to find the time to write anything of any value, until now.

It’s been three months since I returned to work, the first few weeks were hell, I was struggling somewhat but couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason. Well, in fact, it wasn’t just work I was struggling with – it was most things.

See since having a baby my mind doesn’t seem to be the same as it used to, I knew baby brain was a word but I always treated it as an excuse for people being thick. But now, I eat my words and I myself seem to be suffering from it. My memory is almost gone completely – I seem to struggle to juggle all the things I need to do and when – especially when my husbands memory resembles that of a goldfish so I often have to remember his stuff for him too. 

It’s taken those few months of juggling work and motherhood to make me realise I am not as happy as I used to be…. I am not as CONFIDENT. 

It all started a few months ago when I rejoined some gym classes doing personal training again. Before having a baby I was pretty fit! I didn’t realise it at the time – but my stomach was flat and I had definition, my legs slim and I was a comfortable size 8-10, under 10 stone. I lifted heavy weights and ran, went spinning and did military style bootcamps 5-6 times a week. It was my way of burning off anxiety and tension from a high pressure career. Imagine the feeling walking back into that same gym a good stone heavier in weight than my peak days, with skin flabbier and my bits Wobblier and lift a weight 3 times lighter than I had been able to before. Even trying to lift my own bodyweight was a strain and I found myself repeating over and over “I can’t do it” almost to the point I nearly cried with frustration.

That’s when my personal trainer offered my a book about re-wiring a brain due to depression. It got me thinking – what if I have PND? 

I just spent (and still do spend) weeks comparing myself to what I used to be and what I used to be able to do, beating myself up that I can’t do it anymore and feeling embarsssed at being weak now. 

Then theres my uber slim and fit friends, all of whom haven’t had children. Waltzing around in their designer clothes and size 8 bodies. Completely unaware of the strain of motherhood both financially and physically. Not to even mention mentally. Then you hear them mutter the words “I don’t want to look frumpy” or “I didn’t buy that because it made me look fat” and you think to yourself – what must they think of me, all flabby and frumpy over here in my size 12 jeans and boobs the size of 2 small planets attached to my chest, sagging to my waist now and not sitting pert like they once had. It makes you feel like SHIT. Utter shit. 

The weight gain, the negativity – I needed to start a diet, so I did – but it’s so hard. No-one could explain how hard it is to juggle 48 hours a week working, a baby, a husband, keeping the house clean and respectable and then finding time to workout and eat well. I’ve baked some diet foods and tried to prepare meals from scratch but it’s still too easy to reach for that takeout menu or packet of crisps when you’re up against it. 

Then the feeling of self loathing gets worse, your child is 15 months old and you’re still fat, you have no time to socialise and barely time to shave your legs. If you take that time to do those things then you end up feeling wracked with guilt that you should have prioritised playing with toot toot racers rather than applying that face mask (that you used to do weekly before the baby came). 

As a result of the above lack of time, my confidence has taken a massive nosedive. At work I’d have been the one trotting around in power dresses from Karen Millen and heels, now I try and hide the flab in baggy shirts and struggle to walk in the heels as I’m out of practice. My skin keeps flaring up with spots as I don’t have time to cleanse properly, my hair a mess as I never get it coloured anymore and my brain is in as equal a bad state as my lady parts were after the forceps delivery – battered and broken! 

My decision making and ability to direct my team at work was suffering, doubting my abilities and questioning my worth. Feeling paranoid no-one likes me anymore. I’m that useless boss who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. 

I’ve tried so desperately these past few weeks to not let it win. I’ve continued with the diet, I’ve pushed through af the gym and recognised that with effort I may get back to my old strengths. I’ve started wearing work clothes with more of a stride in my step and my head held high, I’ve begun to make more clear decisions and be more direct at work and give my team the reason to believe in me again. 

However, things are not perfect. I’m still struggling, but I need to find ways to control the struggles. I need to recognise my body made and birthed a tiny version of my husband and for that reason it will never be the same again. The very tiny human brings so much love and joy to our lives that he was worth every lost brain cell and every lost piece of my confidence.


Beach Birthday Party … (indoors in the rain) 

Anyone that’s been following the blog for some time will realise that I have been planning Nandys 1st birthday party, a beach themed birthday party, for some time now. 

The plan was to host the party in our back garden so the past few weeks has been spent prepping said garden – clearing rubbish away, sorting out the rotten decking, digging out an old tree stump and making sure the grass looked lush and green (following a dry spell) all in preparation for it guests.

I’d purchase bunting and tassels in bright colours to adorn the garden furniture and the plan was to lie beach towels down on the grass area for guests to sit on..

Until the rain came

And boy did it rain…. it rained and it rained. I checked the forecast daily with the hope that surely no more rain could possibly fall out of the sky…. surely it was all rained out by now. But no, in typical law of sod fashion – the forecast for his party day was the worst of all days. 

I should have known after last years attempt at a garden based baby shower (equally a dreary June day!) that I didn’t have luck with weather. 
T minus 3 days to the party and I decided enough was enough and it was necessary to book a village hall and relocate the party indoors. 
The plan was to have the sandpit and paddling pools in use – those plans now redundant made way for a bouncy castle (so beach party right!?).

I hired a last minute castle for £60 and the hall set me back £55 – £115 I hadn’t intended on spending! 

Day of the party came and we set about the hall and tried to cheer it up as much as we could using the bunting the flags – sure enough as my luck would have it – the sun shone in all its glory just to piddle on my parade!!!!! 

Guests arrived for 1pm and soon started making light work of the huge buffet on offer and the soft play and toys which adorned the hall. 

I’d blown up beach balls and other various inflatable fish / whales for them to smack each other around the heads with (or play nicely with) also a suspiciously fallis shaped lilo! 

The time capsule cards went down a treat and I have spent a few hours reading through the messages left by the guests and weeping into my cuppa. 

One thing is for sure – we didn’t need the sunshine or the theme – friends are what make the party and they did not disappoint. We had a great turnout and everyone left smiling which is the most important thing! 

I think we did Nandy proud on his day and he behaved like a little star being passed around between people for hours. 

So that’s it for his first birthday – over in a flash. Sobs 

Now I just need something else to plan ….. 


Post Birth Feelings 

Mum Guilt, it’s an actual thing right!? I’d heard the term used but I wasn’t sure I understood it – but now I do. Everything you do as a mother leaves you wracked with guilt!

I’ve heard so many times from people when talking to them about my feelings of being a mother that “Am I sure I’m not depressed?” No I’m not bloody depressed, I just have a few issues which I need to resolve.

These issues mainly revolve around the process of how my son came into this world and the weeks / months thereafter.
So – firstly, I’m a control freak by nature and I’d got a vision of this perfect midwife led birth with music and lights and water and the reality was quite the opposite. I think what makes it worse is that when I arrived at the hospital they let me go in there for 5 hours and gave me a taste of what could have been before swiftly whisking me up into delivery to have all manner of nasty procedures in the not so nice and calming zone. 

Things happened to me during the hours after I got taken to the delivery suite that I’m really Not sure why they happened or how. People say “just ask your husband to fill in the blanks” but they don’t know my husband. He can’t remember his own hair appointments let alone what happened at precisely 12:32pm on the day our son was born! 

I remember major events like them breaking my waters and emptying my bladder and prepping me for theatre, I remember begging for the epidural I always said I didn’t want and I remember the consultant telling me I had an hour  they took me away for intervention – but what I don’t remember is – why? Not once was I informed that Max was in any danger, his heart rate and oxygen seemed to be fine and he didn’t have a clip on his head checking. I know he was facing sideways so the consultant said pushing him out would be harder but in essence he was back to back / sideways so he was stuck in my pelvis. 

After what seemed like hours of pushing I just couldn’t budge his massive head and time was called for intervention.

When I look back I feel such emotion about the whole thing – why couldn’t I have been given 2 hours not 1? Why the hurry? Why was I lay down on my back and not asked to stand up and let gravity help? Why did they break my waters and hurry things along with the use of oxytocin (which I didn’t know about until I read my notes!).

There are so many black holes and gaps in my memory and unanswered questions.

I spend to this day eating myself up about not being able to finish the job and experience the feelings of him exiting my body! I went from extreme pain and labour feelings to the feeling of nothing. I was convinced that Max wasn’t actually my baby – because I hadn’t felt him exit me – I went from having a baby to seeing him and because I couldn’t feel him come out – it was like they had gotten him from another room and handed him over. 

I never did see or even know when my placenta was delivered and again I’m convinced it’s still in there because I’ve studied all the photos to try and find one photo of it coming out of me and I can’t trace it. I read my notes over and over and it says it was checked as being complete but I have no idea when that happened! I didn’t even feel them inject me for the placenta release because I was still numb. 

Then there was Max infection. I was stuck in hospital and in hindsight I may not have bonded with Max instantly: but then when they started wheeling him away for lumbar punctures and multiple heel pricks for blood right in front of me and other mums – was quite traumatic. I remember one time pacing up and down the room in absolute sweating state just saying “enough now, that’s enough!” His blood was dripping out his heels all over the chairs and he was screaming. 

Once enough blood was taken it was established Max had “an infection” I wasn’t allowed a private room and my husband was told to leave every night. They woke me at 2am to tell me they suspected Max has menigitis and that he was “very poorly” they say the inflammation markers should be between 1 and 10 and his were 38. 

I lay sobbing without my husband with a baby whom was days old – they took him away from me to do chest X-rays (having to pin your 2 day old baby down onto a lead plate is pretty traumatic) and then lumbar punctures which they don’t allow you to witness because it’s so distressing as they basically have to curve the baby around into an ball and insert a large needle into their spine. They did this twice to my baby and all I could do was sit and wait. 

They inserted a cannula and began administering 2 types of antibiotic immediately. I had to hold him down twice a day so the nurse could flush the line with saline and he would scream in pain. It was the most upsetting and traumatic week of my life – not helped by the Heat of the ward, lack of sleep and lack of privacy. After 5 days I was desperate for my own room and my home, but Max wasn’t well still.

We called it “the claw” and tried to make light of the situation.

Luckily after 7 days we were let out and I cried just to feel air on my skin and drops of rain! 

I still to this day don’t know what infection he had or why he was so poorly and that cuts me up inside. I’ve felt resentment towards those mums who had their babies and took them home right away and have no comprehension of what it feels like to go through the above. 

Then I feel guilty because I know others will be reading this and saying that I had it easy in comparison to their experiences! 

I think all in all – we all have issues in some way, we all have unanswered questions and we all have regrets.

Each experience is different and none of them are perfect. 

Nandy Turns One 

How is my baby ONE?! How did I create a human and push him out and then help him grow into the little boy he is today?

I think it’s safe to say we haven’t had the smoothest of rides. We’ve had some real struggles and still do! (I know there’s people out there with worse troubles than we’ve had).

We struggled with eczema which (touch wood) seems to be clearing up. Then there was reflux and the constant crying for months, then the breastfeeding struggles – him pulling off and screaming in public and me feeling like he wasn’t getting fed. Not to mention constipation issues once we started baby led weaning and the stress of that! 

All in all it’s been a rollercoaster and going back to work has been hard and also good for me in many ways. In the round it’s been the most epic year of my life so far – so I just had to go completely OTT with his birthday celebrations!!! 

Our favourite colours have always been black / white / teal and silver, so it was inevitable that would form the basis of the theme for his birthday itself! 

Then there was all the presents to wrap, I sourced matching wrapping paper from John Lewis in teal / black and silver with teal ribbons.

No birthday would be complete without the 1st birthday photoshoot. After reading the feedback from “ohsomummy” on her cake smash and the quantity of cake her gorgeous man ate I decided to steer clear of cake smash and got for a more outdoors theme.

Again, we headed to the wonderful Sarah at peagreenboat photo for the shoot and it was incredible! 

Today we had lunch with grandparents and then some homemade cake with the others. It’s been a magical and emotional day. 

We have his party to look forward to on this weekend (typically forecasted to rain so we have had to move it indoors at the last minute!!) and it’s a beach party too!! Sighs! 

Watch this space for more updates on how the party went! 
Thanks for reading the blog – don’t forget to follow for more! 


Birthday Party Thankyou notes with The Norm 

I am all about the details, with my sons first birthday swiftly approaching it’s no exception to the rule and I have thought about every. little. thing! 

You can imagine my excitement when The_Norm agreed to do some customised thankyou cards for his Birthday (Squeal).

If you haven’t already checked out The_Norm on Instagram yet then what are you waiting for!? Based in the midlands (just like me) Natalie is a mummy who has a talent for creating beautiful prints and cards. 

Because the brief for Nandys’ party is a beach theme then it seemed only right that we commissioned the design for the thankyou notecards along these lines. 

That’s when we came up with the saying “I hope you had a Whaley good time”. I thought it was a cute play on words and a little pun. The icing on the cake is that Natalie added on a cute little whale to just finish the thankyou cards off perfectly! 

I can’t even begin to explain my excitement when I unwrapped the little package of cuteness that arrived on the doorstep. All perfectly wrapped in tissue paper and so perfectly crisp and clean. 

Nandy is one seriously spoilt boy and his party has been planned in great detail all thanks to lovely mamas like Natalie and her talent. 
Natalie has very kindly offered blog readers 10% off too! From Monday 9th July to 14th August 11:59pm, use NANDY10 for 10% off your entire order!
Thankyou to The_Norm again for making everything so extra special for us! 


Post Partum Diet & Fitness Journey

Before I had Nandy I was in decent shape a size 8-10 and an avid gym go-er. It’s no secret that I’m not happy with the changes to my body since being pregnant. I estimate I added some 4 stone in weight during pregnancy and the water retention was also pretty major! See my previous post “on Mum Bod

With the need to return to work looming I’ve decided I need to step it up a notch or two on the fitness and diet front. I really don’t want to go back to the office and look like a huge whale and face all the male chants of “oooh still pregnant are we?” Or such things. Plus one thing I’ve realised is that most of my confidence as a successful career woman comes with how I look. The high heels and sharp suits. One of my team politely put it that he was “hoping I would bring the glamour back”.

With being on maternity leave it’s so chilled and relaxed. You are around like-minded individuals who are in the same position and It’s so easy to sit in cafes all day drinking mocha lattes and eating cake chatting about baby sleep routines and milestones isn’t it!!!

So, cutting to the chase – I started my “21 day habit” at the local gym, they have given me a nutrition plan to follow and a set of rules and challenges.

Continue reading

My Birth Story 

I’ve seen many blog posts regarding birth stories and thought hey, it’s intimate and personal but why not share mine too!

I (like most) had set out with a birth plan, I’m a control freak by nature so knew having a baby would always be difficult for me as everything about it is out of your control. I did however, want to have some control over the birth of Nandy if I possibly could.

I researched and I prepared – I did numerous hypnobirthing techniques and Pilates sessions during later weeks of pregnancy to help with breathing and core strength. I’d given up physical activity at 12 weeks because I had a heart murmur and I was terrified of over exerting myself!

I wrote my birth plan and expressed to the midwife that under no circumstances did I want a c section – I’m terrified of the thought of being cut open!

We did a tour of the hospital and viewed the theatre room and I was certain I didn’t want to go anywhere near there. The local hospital had just opened a new style birthing centre led by midwives and I wanted to labour in there if possible. It was all dreamy and calm and I thought it would be the least scary place for me as I’m such a wuss. The whole labour thing was terrifying for me and had always been great contraceptive (as it was this fear of pain and being out of control that put me off having children)!

It was week 39 plus a few days in late July, the heat was unbearable and my ankles / belly / face – in fact whole body had swollen up and I was waddling like a massive whale. I wanted Nandy out of me and quick. Suddenly the labour fear started to fade through preference to see him!

As you can see I was looking very miserable and very, very fat!!! (Heavily pregnant). I even bought a paddling pool just to use to keep cool ! 

I tried walking miles, side stepping and even made hubby give me some sexy time to encourage him out. Nothing was working.

It was 39 and 6 days and I started to get pains, early in the morning I woke hubby and said “I think baby is coming!” I timed the contractions and they were coming one in every 4 minutes. The contraction timing app said to prepare for hospital. I stayed calm… by lunchtime they had gone off – damn!

I spent the afternoon playing uno cards with hubby to distract me and bouncing on my ball to help keep things going. Nope, Nothing. I said to hubby that he might aswell go back to work with a huge sigh!

By 7pm I had decided to make my own bread wraps – the freezer was full of pre made meals such as chilli and casserole ready for when we got home. It was as I stood rolling out dough that the contractions started again. I used my kitchen work surface as a prop to manage the pains and then carried on rolling dough and cooking!

We went to bed as usual that night but I remember feeling uncomfortable; I was getting contractions regularly again. Hubby was snoring next to me as I tossed and turned in bed.

I went to the bathroom at around 4am, it was then I noticed I was bleeding. In a bit of a panic and shaking I went downstairs and called the midwives unit at the hospital to tell them (as not to wake hubby!) they told me to ring an ambulance right away, in fact they made me wake hubby to call the ambulance for me whilst I prepared myself. I was in shock. The puppy pads and towels were on the passenger seat of our new car ready for me. I wasn’t going to hospital in an ambulance – I’d planned to go in my car with my husband!

A few minutes later (as I sat in the hallway bouncing on my ball) the ambulance crew ran in and with disappointment in their voices said “oh, we expected to be delivering this baby tonight!” “It’s Sam’s last day!”

I was frightened now – seeing their panic made it all seem very real. They loaded me onto the ambulance, I could walk but they insisted I lay down. It was a bumpy ride to the hospital and I remember having to breathe harder through contractions. Hubby was following me up in our car as I spoke to the lovely lady about how I was feeling (still feel bad I didn’t get her name).

When we arrived it was pitch black and around 4:30-5am. I remember being taken straight to the delivery suite and getting upset because I wouldn’t have the birthing pool I wanted. I was examined and told I was 5cm dilated! Wow! I was impressed with myself. They said the bleeding was normal and I could go back to the birthing centre! Yahoooo! I was happy. I was also really concerned that I hadn’t said thankyou to the ambulance crew for looking after me, hubby managed to track them down having a break in the reception and asked them to come say goodbye to me in my room. I was so chuffed I got to say thanks to the lovely people for taking care of me on route.

When we entered the birthing room and the midwife explained I needed to stay upright, but, the contractions were so strong at this point that I just wanted to lie down. I’d had no pain relief and couldn’t sit anymore. The bleeding continued too.

A few hours of fancy calm music and flashing lights and I needed air so we had a wander to the kitchen in the birthing suite. I ate crunchy nut cereal between contractions!

The midwives were concerned the contractions weren’t getting stronger despite them coming one in every 3 minutes. I was having to bend over a changing table and breathe with every one: as hubby rubbed my back but decided he needed what he calls “a nervous poo” he decided to do this in the bathroom which was connected to my Birthing room and made a god awful smell, which made me wretch, annoying me so much that my contractions slowed to every 8 minutes!!

It was at this point that the midwives decided I needed to go back to the delivery suite due to the time it was taking for me to dilate and at around 11am I was still 5cm dilated – how frustrating.

Everything beyond this point seems a blur. I had taken Codine just before I left the suite and felt woozy already. I had my heart set on not having an epidural, so took the drugs on offer with the hope of avoiding it. In hindsight I shouldn’t have gone so long without accepting the drugs.

I remember the midwife insisting I get into a gown and a consultant examining me, he decided to break my waters which he did without me taking any pain relief. I recall my legs shaking like jelly and feeling like Bambi. I tried to stand but immediately wanted to sit back down.

The midwife was stressing I needed to sit up so we agreed on me hanging over the back of the bed on all fours – I needed the gas and air now. With every contraction I was taking 5 sucks as hubby limited it! The first time I took it I spaced out and saw stars, so hubby decided I needed control and he held the gas between contractions for me (and then took it away!) and wiped my brow.

It was so insanely hot in there and I was dripping wet. Hours and hours went by and no baby.

I begged for the epidural. Yes, the exact thing I didn’t want.
The consultant came to see me around 4pm (I have no idea of time by this point) and asked me if I could sit still for the epidural needle and all the risks associated; I was screaming “yes” over contractions which were coming so fast there was no rest at all. She said “blimey she’s not getting any rest in these contractions is she” little did I realise that I was actually ready to be pushing by this point. I recall the consultant then saying “it’s too late for this epidural she’s having this baby in 20 minutes, she’s pushing!”.

The midwife asked me – “Becky, do you want the drugs you must tell me now”, I remember being totally out of it and pathetic to be honest so hubby said give her the pethadine.

My legs were put into stirrups and the midwife took away the gas and air for me to push. I failed miserably at pushing – I kept blowing my air out and didn’t push down properly. I wasn’t moving the baby. The consultant came again and said it was because Nandy was facing sideways. I needed to push and turn him 160 degrees to get him out normally or 30 degrees to get him out in a back to back position.

He gave me one hour attempt to turn him before they considered intervention.

I remember looking at the clock and seeing it was around 5pm. I pushed and pushed but I was fearful of that sting they tell you about when the baby crowns.

I was having no gas and air and as I pushed and I could feel the pain which was making me hold back. Hubby said he could see hair! I recall The midwife pulling at me and telling me to “push her fingers away” to help encourage me to push correctly.

It was 6pm, I had the hour and baby hadn’t come. Despite turning and moving him down, it wasn’t enough. I had my bladder emptied and I was being prepped for surgery. I recall signing a form that said they were going to try forceps and then a C-section if that failed. I just remember not caring by this point I was so out of it and tired. I was wheeled down the corridor by my friend who is a midwife and as I was still pushing. I recall her saying “come on! use those contractions, you can get this baby out before you get into the theatre!!” But I had given up ~ I was exhausted.

I was told to sit on the edge of the theatre bed and sit still. This request felt impossible when you’re contracting and on the verge of pushing your baby out the last thing you can do is sit still and sit upright!

I don’t know how I managed it but I remember the feeling of utter bliss when the spinal took hold and the pain just turned into a magical warmth down my body. I recall begging them not to touch me as I could still feel their touch, so they sprayed me with cold and asked if I could feel it but I couldn’t. I thought I would go totally numb but you do still feel pressure without pain, it’s bizarre.

I was told that I needed to push still as they would insert forceps and try that first. Because I couldn’t feel anything the midwife told me when I needed to push and I did. It’s strange pushing and feeling nothing back, I had no idea whether I was being effective or not! But sure enough after 9 pushes he was delivered! His head was like a massive cone and I remember saying “he’s so ugly” when he was placed onto me.

Hubby didn’t get to cut the cord properly due to the delivery but he did cut the cord stub for show!

Nandy was born at 6:59pm weighing 8lb 3oz bang on his due date 27th July 2016. 

All in all my labour was emotionally and physically draining and if I could do it again I’d hope it would go differently.

I’ve struggled ALOT since the birth with black areas in my memory and I’m still not certain why it went the way it did,  but, Nandy is safe as that’s all that matters!

Hope you enjoyed reading my story and feel free to share yours or leave me a comment below …


Liebster Award – Facts about me

Thank you to the lovely Laura from Ohsomummy for nominating me for the Liebster award.

‘Liebster’ is Germanic in origin and can mean dearest, sweetest, kindest, nicest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute and endearing. This award started back in 2011 and exists only on the internet, given by bloggers to fellow bloggers to encourage connection and support within the blogging community, and to aid in the discovery of new and upcoming bloggers.

The rules:

Thank the person who nominated you – and display your award with pride
Answer the eleven questions put to you by the person who nominated you
List 11 random facts about yourself

Heres my answers to the questions asked by Laura…

1. What made you want to start blogging?

Id been an avid follower of the Taming Twins blog for some time, I originally started a food blog over at InspirebyRebecca a few years ago which was self hosted, soon after I got pregnant and the updates dried up as i was too busy and tired and my healthy eating went out the window. When I had Max I decided to start up a blog again ‘in my spare time’ (laughs). I should go self hosted again with this blog, but l’m building on it first.

2. What was your favourite holiday?

My favourite holiday was actually my wedding aswell. We got married in Zanzibar in Africa and then honeymooned in Serengeti on safari, it was an incredible experience!

3. Would you ever go on Big Brother?

Never, I hate the confrontational people and those that just want all the limelight, its annoying – although I watch celebrity big brother – I cant stand the normal series.

4. Are you a good judge of character?

I believe so yes. Quite often if I’ve made my mind up about someone it doesn’t really change.

5. Have you ever been banned from a public place?

Never, I’m quite a goody two shoes!

5. What do you consider is the most important appliance in a house?

Kettle (obviously) I mean, Im a tea addict, I dont know how but I stopped drinking tea the minute I discovered I was pregnant and to this day I still dont know how I did it. I have not one but two teabags in each cup of yorkshire tea I like it so strong!

6. Do you believe in kharma?

Yes most definitely.

7. What was the last thing to make you feel happy?

Every day just seeing my son.

8. Is it criminal to wear socks with sandals? Random ha!

More than criminal, my old male geography teacher used to do it, with pink socks aswell.

9. Whats your go to shop when looking for clothes for yourself?

Topshop used to be the place, but, now I’m too old and fat and mumsy for that shop. I tend to buy a selection of items, I am fortunate enough to own a few items of designer shoes and bags which I then mix with primark, reiss, whistles and new look!

10. Do you have any secret family recipes?

Yes, my grandfather is an excellent cook and makes the best layered chocolate vanilla and nutmeg cake. He owned a butchers in our village and his sausages were known as being the best around, the sausage mix is still a secret and even I cant get it from him.

11. Do you have a strong local accent?

I dont think so, but others always say ‘ahhh, you’re from Birmingham’ which I hate.