Sunday, 17 January 2021

Baby It's Covid Outside.

 Hello everyone!

If you're reading this then I just want to welcome you back to my blog, it's been a while hasn't it? I didn't write anything throughout the whole of 2020, which I think is perfectly understandable given what we all went through (and are still going through, unfortunately).

So, I'm still cancer free - which is bloody amazing - buuuuut I have had another life change in the shape of my gorgeous chunkarino called Dylan. Here he is:


- Just so you know I'm thinking a mix of "Holy crap, I'm now responsible for this person" and "I just pushed this out my body. I'm a flipping amazing human being."

This lovely boy was born 15th November 2020 and weighed a humungous 4.3kg (9lb 11oz in old money) and boy did I know about it. Skip the next paragraph if you're in any way squeamish as it's about to get TMI very fast. You have been warned.

I was induced at 41 weeks (1 week over my due date) as he was measuring big - in hindsight he'd been measuring big since 20 weeks but I saw a different doctor at every appointment so I never really got very much continuity. This isn't a moan about the NHS, they did an amazing job but were so stretched that at every appointment I had to inform them of my clinical history as it was always a new face. Luckily I saw an amazing Midwife at 40 weeks who was shocked when I waddled in still pregnant and referred me back to hospital ASAP. Two days later I was in to be induced and twelve hours after that he was born. THANK YOU AWESOME MIDWIFE - I can't remember your name (as I only met you that one time) but if I had been left another week he would have been even bigger and who knows what would have happened? This is the TMI bit but I already ended up with a postpartum haemorrhage and a third degreee tear - DO NOT GOOGLE EITHER OF THOSE THINGS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, just know that after a third degree tear you have to be on laxatives as "You won't be able to physically do that yourself until it heals". Yeah, that wasn't great. So who knows what else would have happened if I'd been left another week? I love him but he messed me up for a while, through no fault of his own.

Now, I want to talk about how we feed our babies. Most of you will have seen my Facebook rant about how FED IS BEST and no parent should be guilt tripped on how they choose to feed THEIR baby. I feel so strongly that I really want to start a campaign for better support for bottle feeding parents - most Midwives and Health Visitors are, quite frankly, amazing people who fully inform bottle feeding mothers on the ins and outs (e.g. sterilising bottles and making up feeds) but unfortunately, in my personal experience of postnatal care, I didn't meet very many of them.

For context, as a previous Midwife I went into this knowing the benefits of breastfeeding for mum and baby - with this in mind I was adamant that I was going to breastfeed. I didn't for one second entertain the idea of bottle feeding - before Dylan was born we didn't even buy bottles or a steriliser because that's how sure I was. Turns out, radiotherapy completely fries your tit(s), who knew eh? It's not commonly documented as most people fighting breast cancer are post-menopausal and don't care about feeding babies, but those radiowaves sure do fry those mammory glands good. As a result I was left with a very hungry 4.3kg baby and only one boob to do the business. I won't bore you with the details but cut to him not sleeping ever as he was genuinely ravenous and me having a breakdown after a week (I'm talking inconsolably messy crying and declaring I'm the worst Mum of all time), Warren quite nicely suggested the idea of giving him a bottle. It's mad that even when I did I felt absolutely horrendous, formula is the next best thing but we're always made to feel like it's poison aren't we? Well I'm here to say that IT'S BLOODY WELL NOT POISON. It doesn't matter how we feed our babies, as long as we fecking feed them and shower them with all the love they deserve.

Sweary paragraph alert - but fuck the "breast is best" crew. Don't get me wrong, breastfeeding is hard - if you're a breastfeeder then it's a heartfelt well done from me, you are genuinely bloody awesome and I take my hat off to you. Be proud. You're awesome. But if you're a bottle feeder then just know that you're amazing too. Being a parent has so many other challenges that whatever feeding road you choose to travel, we're all just doing the best we can.

I feel like I've probably ranted enough for now. Please enjoy this photo of my milk guzzler/sleep thief at two months old:


I have to say that having a baby in lockdown isn't the greatest, we're surviving by sending the family Whatsapp photos of our growing munchkin but it's not quite the same is it? Shoutout to my Mum for dropping dinners round to ensure that we actually eat vegetables but I can see that she's desperate to grab him for a cuddle every time she does. Basically this is a plea for everyone to adhere to the rules so that Dylan can actually meet his family. One day it'll happen.

If you're not a parent, kudos to you my friend! Please enjoy your life of uninterrupted sleep and not having to stress about every noise a tiny person makes. Are they sick? Should I call a doctor? Or have they just discovered a new noise that they can make? Are they hungry? Have they pooped? The eternal questions NEVER END. Just revel in the fact that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. But if you'd like to babysit my baby I'll happily let you, just so I can have THE LONGEST bath and drink ALL the wine. God I miss that.

That's me signing out for now.

Thanks for reading!

Love, Meg xx

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