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Mental Illness & Me – A NICU Mum | Guest Post

While you’re pregnant, you never really imagine the prospect of your little one being whisked away to NICU.  I never did. My pregnancy was relatively ok and I didn’t for a second entertain the idea. Saajan ended up staying in NICU for four nights due to low blood sugar.  I was so confused by the diagnosis, coupled with my baby not physically being with me, it was my lowest of low time.

 

Below, fellow NICU mum, Vicki, talks about her journey as a NICU mum, her baby being born with an unexpected heart condition and the impact it had on her mental health.

 

When I found out I was pregnant with my eldest, I enjoyed 9 months of preparing the nursery, rubbing cream in my growing bump and wondering what he would look like.

I was determined to right all of the wrongs of my past with being the best mother I could be.

After a good birth, I met my son 8 hours later and 12 hours after that I was facing the worst time of my life.

My son was born with an undiagnosed heart condition and was fighting for his life in need of surgery.

For 9 days I watched as someone took care of my son, I was present and functioning but it was as though I was watching someone else go through this.

Very early on (whilst in hospital) I began to deteriorate mentally. I began to skip meals and abuse the pills I was on.

In the first year of Elijah’s life that steadily got worse. There is no support system on offer when you have a baby in NICU.

You adjust to NICU life and then if your lucky to be discharged your sent home and expected to get on with your life as if it never happened.

But it did.

The flashbacks, nightmares were too much, and we still had a surgery to get through, 18 months after Elijah’s birth I was diagnosed with PTSD.

The whole of Elijah’s first year I was spent spiralling and hiding what I was doing to everyone.

I became lost, I hide away not wanting to be the mother of the ill baby.

Surgery was three years ago now, and Elijah is a healthy and happy little boy.

The NICU flashbacks came back when I fell pregnant a second time and began to fear it would happen all over again. That we had to go through everything a second time. I didn’t think I was strong enough to do it again and as a result didn’t enjoy my pregnancy. Once again I was depressed but too scared to tell anyone as it was supposed to be a happy time right?

Ante natal depression is something we don’t routinely discuss.

Harlow was born after a very quick 50 minute labour and I spent so much time comparing the two experiences I developed post natal depression.

It is the most depressed I have ever been, and I was suicidal at numerous points. I got help very early on but the pills masked over it for a while it is only now 10 months on and in therapy I am facing all of the issues head on now.

Once that should have been dealt with and fixed all those years ago in NICU.

This is why I am launching a campaign for demand change and funding for a dedicated system to be out into ever NICU ward for better mental health care for NICU parents. For them to be assessed and have follow up care after discharge. To avoid like so many of us to still have to face these issues years down the line.

I began my blog when Elijah was 18 months old as a way to process what I had been through and have openly confessed to all of my mental health struggles in hope the more we talk, raise awareness the more we can normalize mental health issues.

For months, even years I was ashamed to go get help. Fearful they would take my children away and I let it fester worried I was a bad mother, that I wasn’t normal.

I spent three years constantly living in NICU in my head, never processing it, never dealing with it and letting it affect so much of my life when I should have been enjoying the fairy tale of motherhood I had first dreamt about.

I won’t get that time back and it is hard to reflect on the times I was so low I thought my family, my boys would be better off without me. But in sharing my story, and in launching the campaign I hope that it means that others may not have to go through what we did, as they will have the access, knowledge and confidence to help.

 

 

Vicki Cockerill is a NICU/ CHD Mum of two boys, a freelance blogger and social media adviser, Co-Founder of #knackeredandNorwich social club and maternal mental health advocate.

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Post Natal Psychosis in the Asian Community – The Unspoken | Guest Post

One of the main reasons I started my blog was as an outlet for me to express myself during my darker days of Post Natal Depression (PND). What I didn’t realise is, how many women were in the same boat as me but didn’t speak out about it openly – especially in the Asian community. I’d like to think as a community, we’ve moved forward with being more open and accepting of mental health issues but I know there is a long way to go and there is still a stigma attached to it.

Since I started sharing my journey, the blog has become a lot more meaningful than I ever could have imagined. I thought my darkest days had come and gone after I had Arjun and went through PND. What I didn’t realise was I had a whole lot worse coming my way.

When you fall pregnant, you have a perception of how things will pan out – you expect it to be just like those glossy magazines portray – an instant burst of joy, a natural high as you sniff the first whiff of your baby’s smell, the instant bond you feel as you hold them close and have skin to skin contact. All the firsts. All the magical moments. You imagine everything will be blissful.

You believe that anything that deviates from this immaculate picture is wrong and suddenly you’re consumed by a wave of guilt, panic, fear. You begin to believe there is something wrong with you, that you’re not bonding with your child.

For me, that was the beginning of a downward spiral – when my reality didn’t meet my expectations. When things didn’t quite go to plan. When my labour was a lot longer than expected, where I was unable to meet my baby till he was 5 hours old. Where I received an unexpected diagnosis.

For me, I didn’t feel that instant burst with Arjun. I was confused. With Saajan, I fell in love instantly – for all of 9 hours till we received his diagnosis, the comfort and warmth I felt was ripped from beneath my feet within seconds. My world turned full circle within 10 hours. The wave of sadness I experienced after my mind became clouded with misconceptions, as I grieved for the child I thought I was going to have, – nothing could ever have prepared me for.

Though I’ve come a long way, I still have sheer moments of devastation and sadness. I wonder if I’d still have these feelings if Saajan wasn’t diagnosed with Down Syndrome. I think deep down I know I can’t attribute all of what I experience to just his diagnosis. Though that has been life changing.

My blog isn’t only a forum for me, it’s a forum for others to also share their journeys. I’m always honoured when others ask to share their stories here as it means together we are able to help more and more people that are in the same boat that may feel the same way that we do.

On the internet, you’ll find quite a bit of information on PND, however, Post Natal Psychosis is almost unheard of in the Asian community. Raising awareness for such a serious illness is something I hope we can do by sharing the below story. To protect the identity of the author and her family, all names have been changed. We will call the lovely lady, Simran. I’ve been speaking to Simran and my heartbreaks when I hear all that she has been through.

The loneliness.

The fear.

The devastation

The guilt

The absence of information.

The unknown.

The lack of support from professionals – those who we trust our own and our children’s lives with.

Although I appreciate the NHS are stretched, I do believe that being in that field of work takes a special kind of person. Adopting an impersonal and robotic approach especially in exceptional circumstances can have devastating mental effects on the patient. Humanity costs nothing.

I was thankful for the support I received during my pregnancies but I also felt a huge void after receiving Saajan’s diagnosis – I was handed a leaflet – the first page told me my son had a 15% increased chance of developing leukaemia, and that was pretty much it for a few days. I was left to deal with things on my own though thankfully the midwives were very warm and comforting in their own way though they didn’t seem equipped to be able to answer my questions or to deal with me. I became obsessed with the horrible life I thought we were going to have. I convinced myself that my life was over. I didn’t want this life.

There is sometimes also a misconception that a c section is the easy way out, that you don’t have to go through labour – Simran demonstrates how it can leave you feeling paralysed and incapable of tasking care of your newborn – that combined with the hormonal roller-coaster can be a recipe for disaster. A c section is a serious operation and often women don’t get the choice. The aftermath of a c section can be damaging as was the case with me. I didn’t change Arjun’s nappy for two weeks – Preetam and my sisters did it before me, as I was unable to care for him immediately, my confidence was absolutely shattered and it left me feeling like a hopeless and incompetent mother. I couldn’t be alone with Arjun as I believed I wasn’t a good mother despite what others told me. I became my own worst enemy.

I am so grateful to God for giving me the opportunity of meeting so many amazing and strong women through the blog. Together, we stand stronger.

Thank you Simran for your bravery and for allowing us to be a part of your recovery journey. Always in our prayers!

If you are experiencing any of the symptoms described below, please reach out. Although Simran was let down in many ways before receiving the right help, I’d like to believe that this isn’t reflective of everyone in the profession.

If you’d like to help us raise awareness, please share this post wide and far and please have conversations with your family, friends, colleagues to create a more open environment for those suffering with mental illnesses to be able to talk – it could save a life.

Simran’s journey …

The day I found out I was pregnant; my husband and I were both ecstatic! For most it takes a while to get excited or prepared and to get over the shock but for us the planning started almost immediately. Discussions of maternity dates, nursery themes and making endless lists of things we needed.

12 weeks
12 weeks felt like a long time to wait for the first scan compared to our excitement and then the day finally came. The sonographer told us to watch the screen whilst she was faffing around looking for our baby and then within a few minutes there he was. Our faces both lit up whilst she had a slightly puzzling look on her face. She then congratulated us and showed us we were expecting twins.

I was expecting twins.

That was a curveball I definitely didn’t expect! The shock was evident on both our faces!

We informed our families of the news as soon as we got back home and they could not have been any happier. Everyone wanted to get involved with the planning and we were so lucky to have people offering to help straight away to ease the stress off us both.

I soon after met with a midwife whom I knew almost straight away wouldn’t be useful. Any questions I asked or concerns I had she responded with roundabout answers about how I should google it or speak to a consultant. For light conversation constantly talked about her own pregnancy, which was of no help to me. I couldn’t talk to her, so maybe the consultant would be the way to go and I had plenty of time I thought at this point.

20 weeks
My husband and I agreed we did not want to know the sex of the twins and wanted it to be a surprise. We were so excited to see our babies again and this time was hoping there would be no shock. We had our scan and both of our babies were healthy and everything looked perfect. I asked when I would be seeing the consultant as I was told all consultant appointments were aligned with my scans. Everyone I asked told me to wait for a letter even though I expressed I needed to see a consultant to answer the concerns I had about carrying twins! There was little help and I was told to wait.

25 weeks
After a month of nothing, I knew I had to be proactive as my concerns were growing and I couldn’t find anything to help me personally. I went in for my scan and demanded to see a consultant, it worked. The consultant came and begun by checking my blood test results from 6 weeks prior to the date which showed my HB levels to be critical. There was no communication about how this had been missed, had I not asked to see the consultant in the first place I dread to think of when it would have been detected.

My husband and I were not told any details about what this meant if anything the consultant continuously said to my husband in an accusatory tone he would have been “put in prison” for not looking after his wife in his country as if this was somehow something my husband should have known and detected. We were confused, uncomfortable, anxious and felt slightly threatened. The consultant did not answer my concerns or comfort me, instead he scared me and increased my anxiety.

29 weeks
I started to feel tightening pains in my stomach, not knowing if I was being absurd or not I ignored them thinking this is what it must feel like when two babies are moving inside of you. Until the pains became so strong I couldn’t ignore them any longer, I began to panic. From the research I had done, I knew it was likely that twins came early but surely not this early?!

I rung the hospital to let them know and they asked me to come in just to get checked. The consultant wanted to check my cervix but I asked him to wait for my husband so I felt comfortable.

Once my husband arrived, the consultant checked my cervix and we were informed in minutes, there was a high chance I would be going into labour. My husband kept asking him how sure he was but he said there was so definite answer but it was looking pretty likely. I was told I was not able to stay in the hospital and they would need to find a bed elsewhere for me and the twins. We were told it could be as near as the next town or as far as 100 miles. Luckily (the only thing that went in our favour) a hospital in the next town were able to have me. I received steroid injections to strengthen the twins’ lungs and was then transferred by ambulance.

I stayed in hospital for 5 days having various injections, around the clock monitoring and different drips, it was all a blur. I was then finally given the all clear to go home (at this point all I wanted was my own bed). I didn’t go into labour and everything was ok, it was scary that something like this could happen and I had no idea why or what I could do.

31 weeks
I had another growth scan to ensure everything was okay. The sonographer showed us the twins, did some measurements and asked us to take a seat in the waiting room. The same consultant that wanted to imprison my Husband informed us that;

One twin had stopped growing and my HB levels had dropped further.

I required a drip to increase my levels. When was this nightmare going to end? It kept getting worse and we couldn’t even think of the next step without being terrified. A series of scans were booked for everyday to check the placenta, the umbilical cord and monitoring the baby’s heartbeat. Followed by a growth scan in 2 weeks. We were finally making progress, something proactive was happening and we could understand the course of action.

I asked to discuss a birth plan, I wanted to mentally prepare myself and of course everyone always says it never goes to plan, the whole point is to have an idea and understand your options and what to expect to some extent. I had already experienced a scare, I wanted to know more! The consultant told me to wait. The midwife, at every single appointment I had told me to speak to a consultant. I was at a dead end!

33 weeks
My husband and I were exhausted, hardly any rest and the hospital became our second home. This was our last appointment before the growth scan in a couple of days. The sonographer asked me to get in lots of different positions so she was able to check the pressure on the umbilical cord. She then asked us to take a seat in the waiting room, we knew what this meant by now – bad news! A midwife told us I would need to stay at the hospital for monitoring as the pressure from the umbilical cord was too high for one of the twins and it was of concern.

My husband went home to collect my overnight bag whilst I was taken to the ward. I was confused as to what this meant but there was no one around to answer my questions, I was just being told where to go, tested on as if I had no feelings or position to have questions.

I stayed overnight, woke up in the morning and thought of what I had planned for the day had I not been stuck in hospital. I had planned to go to the cinema as a treat before I gave birth and to collect our pushchair from the store as I received the confirmation. Instead I finished my breakfast and waited for a consultant to talk to me. It was impersonal and routine, I watched the consultant walk in, no pleasantries, no communication. She placed her red Gucci bag on my bed and flicked through my notes. She looked up at my worried face and told me they would be delivering today and I needed a C-section as she did not want to put the babies through any more distress. I had questions, I asked her to talk me through the process before I had a chance to say anything further she said the midwife would explain, picked up her bag and left.

A C-section, babies arriving today. I rung my husband feeling absolutely lost for words and terrified hoping he could tell me there was a plan and he could do something to help. The uncertainty was overwhelming. Would they be ok? It was too early! What would happen? I pressed the buzzer hoping someone would come and answer my questions and comfort me. I resorted to Google as no one came, I did this for 6 hours until I was moved into a labour suite.

The procedure – 33 weeks
My husband and I met the anaesthetist who told me the midwife would come shortly and explain the whole procedure. We were taken in, no midwife came. I had an epidural and the procedure started. My husband sat to the right of me by my bed and a set of doors just behind him leading to another room. I didn’t feel much but then…

I heard a cry!

A nurse ran, with my baby. My baby was in her arms as she ran through the doors. What was happening? I asked my husband what had happened and if our baby was ok. My attention diverted, I could hear the surgeon “come on baby, come on please”. What was happening?

I heard another cry!

The same thing happened, a nurse ran with my baby. My twins. Were they both ok? What did I have? I asked the anethisist who said he could only find out once he was able to go. I asked if my husband was able to go and find out and he agreed.

My husband came back and told me we had two beautiful healthy baby boys who didn’t require help breathing but needed to be taken to neo-natal. I wanted to see them, to hold them and to make sure with my own arms that they were ok.

24 hours post – birth
I was stitched up and taken back to the ward, a room at the end of a long corridor. I felt alone, isolated and far from everything and especially my sons. My husband took photos but I wanted them with me and to hold them.

I was in pain now as the drugs started to lose their effect, I needed pain relief and an update on my sons, no one came. I pressed the buzzer for a long time. I’m not sure how I survived that night, emotionally drained and physically my body felt alien to me and yet I could feel pain.

8am
Two midwives came in to remove the catheter, I asked for pain relief as it had been almost 12 hours and it was tough. They didn’t come back.

9am
My husband arrived with a wheelchair to take me to see the boys, I couldn’t move because the pain was unbearable. He couldn’t believe I had not been given anything in 13 hours and demanded the midwife brought me pain relief, I was given a paracetamol and I asked the midwife to help me into the wheelchair. This midwife told me I needed to mobilise and she wasn’t going to help me, I begged for a little help, I wanted to move, I wanted to see the boys, I wanted to be out of that room but I couldn’t without being in pain. She said and I can remember this because I couldn’t believe how I was being treated…

“I have other patients who have their babies with them and need help, you are wasting my time”

I felt worthless. My husband stepped in and tried to help and she snapped at him saying “Make her do it herself”. I felt nauseous, dizzy and in pain but I did it eventually but I was so upset I couldn’t think of anything else. Was I really worthless? How was I going to look after my boys? I had failed already? Was I not fit to be a mum? This couldn’t be real, it was a nightmare and would I ever wake up?

In the evening, after some rest I was able to slowly get into the wheelchair and went to see the twins for the first time for an hour. The nurses in the unit kept talking to me about expressing milk and how I had to start it straight away. I fell in love with my babies from the moment I saw them but I couldn’t help the overwhelming feel of guilt. I had failed them. Why had it taken me over 24 hours to come and see them? Would they know who I was? Seeing all the tubes and machines made me feel worthless. Useless. I was a bad mum. I couldn’t provide for my babies when they needed me.
The following morning, a midwife told me I had to leave the hospital that day as they were discharging me. I told her I needed help expressing as no one had come to help and I was not able to move still so how would I come to see my babies? She told me there was nothing wrong with me and that I needed to get a pump and “get on with it”.

I managed to stay one more night and attempted to start expressing. All these thoughts and comments from the midwives began to echo in my head.

Going home
I left the hospital alone, long gone where my dreams of leaving with a baby or the twins and going to the Gurdwara straight away. I left with a breast pump and was alone. I was abandoning them and I felt like everyone knew. I walked along and could see people looking out for a baby/the twins.

The midwife’s voice followed me, she wouldn’t stop. She kept telling me I was a bad mum and the boys were better off without me. How was she following me? I looked around, she wasn’t there. Why was I hearing her? I felt someone behind me, I looked to my left. He was there, the consultant. I was confused. I stood there staring at him and told my husband he was there. He didn’t know what I was on about so I stayed quiet. I didn’t understand. Why did my husband not acknowledge him?

The next few weeks I spent constantly expressing. We would stay at the hospital from 9am – 9pm. I still felt no bond. I would sit next to the incubators crying just hoping I could have done something different. I would hold their hands constantly saying sorry over and over again. Her voice still echoed in my head. “You did this” was what I heard every time I entered.

Once the twins were home, the next few months were hell. I couldn’t tell anyone what I was experiencing, she told me they could all hear and see them but everyone wanted me to suffer. He would follow me wearing a black hoody, always looking down with a gun in one pocket and a knife in his right hand. Why was this happening? Why would no one tell them to leave me alone? Why was no one scared? I never understood but was still too afraid to say.

It all got too much. Everyone wanted to see the boys, I didn’t want anyone near them. She told me people wanted to visit to hurt them. I was afraid. I wanted to be alone.

Then came everyone’s unwanted advice. I would always complain I didn’t want people’s advice because they didn’t understand what was happening but I was told to just agree or ignore it. I couldn’t. Why was everyone undermining me? I wasn’t able to leave my babies for a moment without having someone constantly judging me. I lost myself. My family were confused. I was always chirpy and happy to help others. I wanted to stay in a room alone with no one around. I had to, she told me I had to. She told me she knew what was best for me.

We were in and out of hospital with various different problems with the twins and she told me it was me. When I touched them, I was hurting them. I was confused. Before I was the only person to protect them and then I was the one hurting them. I had to believe her. She told me I had to and if I didn’t, he would hurt the twins with his knife. I would shake in fear. I had to stay away from my babies to protect them.

First it was to stay away then she told me I could no longer be round. I had to go. I had to go to the bridge. The bridge that was a couple of miles away from our home, I had to go and jump. She told me if I didn’t, he would hurt the twins and I couldn’t let that happen.
I tried to reason with her, I tried speaking with my health visitor to explain I was struggling but could never explain the full extent. I tried with the GP but she told me I wasn’t allowed to tell them. I had no choice, I had to go. I wasn’t allowed out the house on my own at this point as my husband knew something wasn’t right. I had to ask him to take me, it was the only way. He told me it would all be ok but it wasn’t going to be ok. She was right, they all wanted to see me suffer and that’s why he wouldn’t take me.

I needed to go. No one would take me so there was only one way, to escape. I ran out the house, in the hope I would get there. My husband carried me home. I sobbed, why was he stopping me? I spoke with the crisis team on the phone after my mum made the referral, the man on the phone said they were going to help. Finally. Someone is going to help me and take me. I drew the map ready to give to them. I was ready with my shoes on stood by the window. The crisis team were called, I kept telling them we needed to go right away. They asked me a few questions and told me I had to go with them to a hospital. I was confused. I didn’t want to go to a hospital, I told them I needed to go to the bridge. Why were they not listening? I refused to go only for them to inform me I was to be sectioned as I was a risk to myself under Section 2 of the Mental Health Act. I had no choice, it was either that or the police taking me.

I stayed in hospital for 2 weeks until being granted leave. Things didn’t improve. Then the self-harm started. It was relief from the pain I was enduring. I couldn’t do anything. I was under constant watch. The house keys had been locked away, someone with me at all times.
I was taken back to the hospital after I tried to escape again. I stayed again for 2 weeks for the consultant to tell me I had a Borderline Personality Disorder. I was confused – they were trying to pin anything on me. This couldn’t be right.

I met with a psychiatrist from the perinatal team and spoke about the consultant who followed me and the midwife giving instructions. She referred me right away to the mother and baby unit. I didn’t want to go to another hospital to be diagnosed with something that was not right. She agreed I did not have a personality disorder.

The urge to go to the bridge was still strong. I left the house following an argument with my husband and went to my mums. When I left, she told me now was my chance to go to the bridge. I felt a sigh of relief knowing I was able to. My parents knew something was wrong. I went to a bridge close by but she told me I had to wait for people to leave and I was then able to jump. I could feel the tip of the knife poking my spine. I had to do this. My friend managed to find my location from my phone and phoned me to tell me to go to my car. I sat in the car telling her everything was fine and I had to do this, the man stood outside the car tapping the window with his knife. I had to do this.

I heard sirens, it was the police along with my parents. I couldn’t go to another hospital. I begged them to leave. I tried running towards the bridge but they caught me. I was taken to the crisis team who again gave me a tablet to calm me but they didn’t listen. Why was no one respecting my wishes?

A few days later, I was taken to the mother and baby unit with my twins. It felt strange. Following observations and meetings with consultants, I was diagnosed with Post-Partum Psychosis.

My journey hasn’t yet ended but I am on the road to recovery with the right treatment. I am undergoing EMDR along with medication. I wish I had the birth I dreamt of. I wish I was able to hold my babies straight away. I wish I felt that bond. I wish I spoke out earlier before everything escalated. It’s been difficult writing my story but my only wish now is that I will be able to help someone speak out when they need help.

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Snuggle Up Original Nursing Pillow Review & Giveaway

There are definitely a few pregnancy related things that I enjoy even outside of pregnancy! Maternity leggings and pregnancy pillows being some of them! 

I remember when I was pregnant with Arjun, I tried several different pregnancy pillow styles and struggled to find one that really gave me the support and comfort I needed with a growing bump and sore shoulders! I assumed the bigger the better (haha!) and started off with the super huge U bolster style ones – it didn’t work! After searching low and high and trying several different ones, I finally found my perfect comfort in a smaller C shaped Nursing pillow for my neck and shoulders and a regular pillow between my knees.  

We were sent the Snuggle Up original pregnancy pillow to review and I instantly fell in love with how soft it was. The neutral beige colour blends in perfectly with our house decor! The colour also hides away subtle stains. The removable cover is easy to unzip and wash when required. The fabric is a soft suede material which provides extra comfort though stains maybe a little harder to get rid of. What I love most about this pillow is it’s softness. The Sensifil filling is not as firm as the other pillows I own resulting in extra comfort. The filling is also anti allergenic which means I feel extra comfortable with Saajan using it! 

I don’t just own one of these bad boys. We own 3! What I love most is the versatility of these bad boys. Here’s what we use ours for: 


1. My pillow
: It’s been over 3 years since I fell pregnant with Arjun and I’m still using a C shaped pillow. I even take it on holiday with me as I’m unable to sleep without. Although it doesn’t provide bump support, it really gives me perfect support around my head and shoulders. I found a regular pillow between my knees coupled with the semi circle pregnancy pillow was the perfect support for optimum sleep especially during pregnancy. 

2. Feeding: it was perfect to position around my tummy with baby lying against me when breast feeding. It really took away some of the tension in my back and helped my posture as baby is elevated. I also use it for bottle feeding to achieve the same position. 

3. Tummy time: both our boys love being on their front on this pillow instead of being flat on their tummies. Saajan often ends up nodding off! 

4. Sitting up: we used this pillow as a support aid when Arjun was first learning to sit up. 

At £25 and available in 7 different colours, this is at the top of my “new mummy must haves” list! It’s definitely my favourite out of my stash! 

What do you use your pregnancy pillow for? 

Do you want to win your very own pregnancy pillow that I’ve tried and tested?! Follow us on Instagram to see how!


Disclosure
: this is a sponsored post either in the form of remuneration or a free product being sent to us for review however all thoughts and opinions are our own.

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Our handsome man has Down’s Syndrome…

So, my kid has Down’s Syndrome. I never really knew what Down’s Syndrome was, I could easily identify it and tell if someone had Down’s Syndrome but never understood it.
Its basically a scenario where usually at the point of conception the foetus has an extra chromosome (21). Where two chromosomes are expected you end up with three. In most cases having one more of something is usually a good thing. However when it comes to chromosomes it seems the additional results in slowed learning and a few Down’s characteristics.

I am writing this on the evening my second son was born. When he was born I noticed a few Down’s related features but put it down to him being born at 39 weeks. I mentioned the look to my wife who assumed I was implying he looks like her side of the family at which point I just dropped the topic. 

Later that evening a consultant came to see us to confirm our son does indeed have Down’s. The realisation of this broke me. I am not a very humbled or religious person, I am driven and focused but tend not to stop and enjoy let alone be thankful for everything in my life. Deep down I am thankful in my own way but I don’t express this openly. Unfortunately I can be quite judgemental with little remorse when something frustrates me. I am adamant my sons additional chromosome was indirectly my fault. I didn’t intentionally cause it to happen. But felt my actions or thought process had led God or the universe to “balance my books”. I felt it was a way for him to punish my wrong doing by punishing my child.

This broke me.

I am far from the perfect husband. In fact, I’m an appalling husband, you just need to ask my wife.

I do however try to be a good dad. Prior to Saajan, my second son, I had Arjun. Arjun has been the apple of my eye from the moment he was born. He brought out feelings in me I thought I never had. We are completely besotted with each other and just inseparable. Arjun is perfect. What’s funny is I see myself in him everyday with his little mannerisms like sticking his tongue out while he is concentrating. The way he just loves to get involved. I feel I’ve always known him, maybe connected with his soul in a past life. Some might say our relationship isn’t healthy as we both suffer from anxiety when we are initially separated but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So the thought of something I have done or something i simply haven’t done right impacting my child really tore me up. Breaking down randomly, struggling to come to terms with the thought that Saajan isn’t perfect. He isn’t perfect because he has a learning difficulty and has visual signs of Down’s syndrome. 

This morning I went home from the hospital to feed our dog who hasn’t been very well. I took her for a walk to clear my head. This is something I’ve become accustomed to doing for years, it’s something about the early morning air, the fog, the crisp breeze that lets you just get lost. I don’t meditate, but this time in the morning really let’s me just find myself. 

I kept questioning why this has happened. Is it because of the way I am? Is It the things I’ve done that have caused this to happen to my son? Is god punishing me or us? Why is he paying the price?

Harps brought up a funny point that really makes me hate our culture. People just have a habit of talking about ‘nazar’. This is an evil eye, jealousy. Harps doesn’t believe in this, and nor do I. I don’t believe this exists but the truth is it probably does. That when you have things going right, something will inevitably go wrong. I have everything I could ever wish for. What people don’t see is how hard I have to work for it, often sacrificing time with my family. This aside, I have also been a firm believer that problems are opportunities. So even if things go wrong, I’m keen to just take it all in my stride. 

I have no doubt I will do my utter best to be a good dad to both my sons. I just can’t help but struggle to understand why this might have happened.


I came to the realisation that yes Saajan has a learning difficulty. But unlike Arjun and I, he will undoubtably have a much more innocent view on the world. Arjun currently does as he is very young, however as he gets older; If he follows my traits, he might get a little arrogant in his adolescent years.

My experience of people with Down’s syndrome has always been positive. Be it seeing children playing or adults offering hugs or smiles to passers by. Those infrequent experiences give me a very reassuring feeling.
Having a child with Down’s I feel will be a positive thing. Saajan is a gift. Unlike Arjun and I, he is such a special gift. He has an extra chromosome which makes him very special. He has a head start. He won’t feel hate or discrimination. His innocence will last a life time.

I always loved seeing the world through Arjun’s eyes. On holiday or his appreciation for little things. Not a single day goes by where I don’t smile at the things he comes out with. The love he has for his brother melts my heart. 

As a family we can all now see the world through Saajan’s eyes. We have been blessed to be able to see the good in everything and really appreciate the world for what it is.
That is something that has been missing from my life. I lack empathy. I don’t always see the good. Recently I feel I have become the first to vent if something isn’t done to my satisfaction. But the truth is, not everyone is like you. Nor is everyone normal. What you do have is people that are very special, like a Saajan. That I feel I am blessed to father, because over our lifetimes I can learn so much from him and become a much better person.
He is a very special soul, Harps thinks he has chosen us to love him and give him the perfect life. 

I don’t think she is wrong. He truly is a remarkable soul. 

Harps is a phenomenal mum, her health has been up and down. She had an emergency c-section, again. But straight away, I have no idea where she has found her strength but she seems completely un-phased. She is determined to be the best mum to Saajy. 


He has a truly amazing big brother. Arjun will certainly keep his little brother on his toes, teaching him to use drills and toy saws! Or the ‘IPad’ to draw with colours. 

More so he has amazing aunties and uncles. My sister in-laws are amazing. I love them like my own siblings. Their love for my kids is unconditional, you can see it. The way they drop everything for them, for us. Harvs, Goovy love you both loads! X And Indy! Thank you for being there. Helping us through our day to day.

The truth is, I don’t want Harps to go through post-natal depression again. I’m not one to talk about my feelings or to share how I feel. I just keep quiet, and get on with it. I wrote this so she knows she has everyone behind her including me. 

The truth is, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. This gorgeous little man is going to change our lives for the better. 

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The Last Hug …

I know I should be thinking about the bubbly and exciting times ahead, but before that I know I have to do one of the hardest things I’ll have to do … give my first born the “last hug” before coming home with his sibling.

It isn’t actually the last hug, there’ll be so many more.

But it’s the last one before he is no longer the only child.

The last one before our attention becomes divided. I don’t want to say our love becomes divided, I want to believe that our love will simply grow to accommodate two little humans.

The last one before we become a family of four.

The last one where is no longer the smallest person in our life.

Why do I feel so guilty? I feel guilty because I don’t feel like he understands despite the countless number of times we’ve read “There’s a house inside my mummy”, despite the number of babies he’s cooed over, despite the number of conversations we’ve had to talk about it. I feel like it’s some sort of betrayal. That we’ve made such a huge decision without his consent, without his knowledge. That he may feel like he’s not enough.

I feel guilty because he won’t be a part of those initial moments when the baby is born. That he’ll be oblivious to the chaos that will no doubt be unfolding at the labour ward as he is left with his masis to be entertained (or to entertain!) and will go about his day laughing and playing like it’s just any other. Without realising how much his life is about to change. My heart breaks at the thought.

How will I face giving him that last hug? How will I stop myself from crying? As challenging as it has been, I have loved being a mummy to only him. I have loved the uninterrupted cuddles, the long random conversations and enjoying as many precious moments as I possibly could. You’d think living with him, I’d get bored of his antics, never. I laugh just as hard each time he does something funny, I find him fascinating. He has helped me overcome so much in the last few years, he has been my biggest source of comfort and my strongest pillar of support – I hope I’m not hurting him. I hope he embraces me as tight as he always has even when there’s another.

I feel like that “last hug” will signify so much – the biggest thing it’ll signify is “change”. A word that always sends me in to a panic. I don’t want anything to change with Arjun.

I know I’ll embrace him as tight as possible with tears streaming down my face at the feel of his tiny little heartbeat against mine – one that he still takes comfort in… I know I’ll be breaking inside I won’t want to let go as I won’t want that little moment that signifies so much to end. I write this with tears streaming down my face as I struggle to catch my breath. A moment that signifies the end of one chapter – a chapter that has filled my life and heart with so much joy. A moment that’ll also signify the start of a new chapter – his reaction to which I have no idea. I write this with tears streaming down my face as I struggle to catch my breath.

I won’t get to enjoy every single moment of either child as I know at times things will be crazy with a newborn crying and a toddler tantruming. But I also know, there’ll be many joyful moments.

“The last hug” …

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My Goal for Motherhood …

In one word? Survival.

I don’t have a long list of my goals.  Upon reflection, last time, I had a long mental list of things I’d do with Arjun – take him for walks, take him to baby groups, go to the park. All of which seemed so simple but didn’t really materialise in to a routine. Why? Because what I didn’t envisage was how low I would feel post birth. Setting myself the perfect little list of things to do ended up being my enemy in a way as it gave me something to focus on what I HADN’T been able to achieve. I didn’t realise that the root of everything I do as a mother stems from my mental well being. So this time, I don’t have a long list, my sole goal is “S U R V I V A L”, anything else is a bonus. 

There are so many (what seem to me) petty debates … breast vs bottle … pacifier vs no pacifier … co sleeping vs cot … the list is endless. Do those things really matter to me as much anymore? As bad as it may sound, no. 

If becoming a mother has taught me anything, it’s to want to give the best to my children. What does “giving the best to my children” actually mean? While to many, breast feeding, not giving a pacifier and not co-sleeping may be the best for their child; for me, giving the best to my child is giving them the best version of me. Giving them the best version of me means me taking care of my mental health. Me taking care of my mental health sometimes means turning to what works best for us and perhaps not the majority – what some may coin “the easy route”.

Dealing with an incredibly strong willed and emotional toddler is definitely taking its toll on me even with all the extra helping hands I have at my parents house. I’m hyper aware that once we move back home and I’m predominantly alone with two kids, I’ll definitely have to pick my battles and ensure I do what’s right for us as a family as oppose to what society thinks I should do. I’ve been warned that the jump from one to two is unimaginable and that it IS going to be tough. Can I really comprehend it? No. Can I try and prepare for it? I can try. How am I trying? By reminding myself that my sole goal is “survival”.

Am I going to try breast feeding? Yes. Am I going to beat myself up over it if I struggle and it means excessive sleepless nights? No. Does that make me a bad, selfish, useless mum? No. it makes me a strong one. Because to not give in to the pressures of society to make sure I’M ok so I can be ok for my kids, is bloody hard – “fed was best” in our case with Arjun. I recognised how the lack of sleep where I spent whole nights trying to breast feed was contributing to my downward mental spiral – I really struggled. I wish I’d been able to breastfeed, but I couldn’t for longer than a few weeks. Arjun is a happy healthy boy and with Preetam’s support, I managed to slowly come out of the dark space I was in. Last time was about trying to do the right thing by a text book, this time it’ll be about doing the right thing by my family.

Having suffered with Post Natal Depression when I had Arjun, I became so hyper aware of how little sleep contributed to my mood and mental wellbeing. I just want to make the most of my children and create happy memories whether they jump in to our bed, whether we feed them with a bottle or breast or whether they need a dummy here and there. 
I felt that with Arjun, the newborn days were spent crying, feeling low, feeling confused due to often trying to please society, not understanding that actually I was the most important person in that equation for our family – a strong mummy. I don’t want to spend the newborn days of this child in the same way. I want to have learnt from my first experience. I would be a failure if I didn’t learn from my experience with Arjun.

My sole goal is survival.

Of course I have no idea how things are going to pan out. I’m terrified of how I’ll be this time having been through it once but my experience has made me wiser. I’ve even struggled with my pregnancy. My experience has made me selfish to the world in that I’ll be doing what’s best for my children, my family and me. My sole goal is survival.

Please don’t judge me.

We’re all on our own journey, trying to do our best – OUR best for OUR situation and OUR families.

Love, support and uplift x

P.s. any tips on how on earth to cope would be most welcome!

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My Baby Sprinkle

I’m fortunate enough to have two sisters who decided to host a mini baby sprinkle for me. I had a big one when pregnant with Arjun with all my friends and family but this time something lower key was an excuse to relax for the day. 
Last year: 


Knowing exactly what I’m like and knowing how hectic life has been recently, they decided to host a PJ party at my parents house. It was just what I needed with just a few close friends and lots of yummy food. I had a fun filled afternoon catching up with some of my closest.

They went for a yellow and grey colour scheme which I absolutely loved! They used paper lanterns and pom poms, bunting and my sister made a homemade sign (she’s a pro and makes all our signs!).

The dress code was pyjamas – blue/pink depending on what my friends believe I’m having this time. As you can see, a majority are team pink! I made myself and Arjun our signature baby brain blue cloud leggings and matching PJ tops.

My gorgeous cake was made by the lovely Tranam at Rozay Cakes – she never ceases to amaze me with her beautiful creations. I loved the little bunting and clouds that her and Goov designed together.


The favours were little teacups with a nutella cupcake made by SugarBakes – my favorite cupcakes ever!

There was lots of delicious food including my mums yummy tandoori paneer, Subway sandwich platters, lots of M&S afternoon tea bits and samosas obviously (I’m obsessed!). My favourite was the mini chocolate fountain, yum!

The twins hosted a whole range of fun filled games which included:

  • Windy Washing Line: a chaotic game where each person competes to hang as many clothes up on a washing line with windy weather, a baby in tow and a ringing telephone!
  • Feed the Baby Blindfolded: where one person feeds another person a whole pouch whilst blindfolded! – Thank goodness we covered the carpets! Haha!
  • Pin the Dummy on the Baby

All in all, I had such a fun filled day. It was just what I needed to make for a relaxed day with my closest girlfriends! 

Forever grateful to my sisters for all their efforts and for always showering me with so much love – it was a perfect day!   x

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VBAC vs Planned C Section … My Birth Plan | Pregnancy

If you’ve been following us for a while, you’ll know my first birth didn’t quite go to plan. I was really excited for labour the first time around – perhaps a sign of my innocence and naivety at the time. I was open minded about what would need to be done and didn’t have a stringent birth plan in place as I knew with my existing hypertension, there was a chance things would slip out of my control. I felt strong and positive. 

After a failed induction, an 84 hour labour, nil by mouth for over 48 hours and it all ending in an emergency section, becoming unresponsive straight after and not meeting my precious baby till he was 4 hours old, it’s safe to say I felt pretty low. As excited as I’d been for labour, was as disappointed as I was by the whole experience at the time. I feel like my labour had a knock on effect on my feelings straight after as it definitely hindered my ability to be the best mother I could be to Arjun – I didn’t change his first nappy till he was 2 weeks old! As difficult as my emotional and physical struggle was at the time, I was so grateful for all the support I received during that time – especially from my husband and sisters.

In hindsight, it didn’t go to plan but the main thing is both Arjun and I were ok. I had a rough time but I know it’s nothing compared to what many mothers go through – what I was so super grateful for was the loving and caring staff at Hillingdon hospital who treated me as their own during my whole stay there.

As time went on, and we created beautiful memories with Arjun, labour became a distant memory. My only reminder was my thick blotchy keloid scar as a result from my c section and the frequent tinges I felt and also the constant creeping of self doubt which often consumes me.

Being pregnant with baby number two, I’m faced with the dreaded decision of my preferred birth choice. What a stark difference my attitude, feelings and approach are this time. I’ve gone from being obliviously excited the first time around to being absolutely terrified. Why though? I have to deliver the baby whichever method and I’m strong enough to deal with the aftermath – I’ve done it once and I’ll do it again. The choice between a VBAC and a planned section is weighing so heavy on me – I wish someone would make the decision for me and tell me everything is going to be ok!

Here are my feelings around both:

Food!: I genuinely believe that because I was starved for so long before my section the last time, that contributed to my slow recovery and low mood post birth massively. This time, there is an enhanced recovery programme in place for planned c sections which means you have a carb fest the night before your section and you’re encouraged to eat soon after you’ve delivered. I’m hoping this would help aid in a faster recovery so perhaps a c section this time around wouldn’t be as bad as the first time? With a VBAC there would be no starving period …!

Emergency vs Planned Section: The first time around I had an emergency section, I’ve been told a planned section is a more pleasant experience while delivering however the aftermath can be just as painful. Though I’ve heard mixed stories – I also know some mummies that were able to drive within two weeks by ensuring they took regular pain relief as directed by the hospital. But would I really be able to manage with a demanding toddler who wants to be picked up all the time? How would I cope with the pain? I remember the last time I had staples and stitches, any movement meant I could feel the little pieces of metal inside me. It was excruciating.

Keloid Scar: If I was to have a c section, they could fix my keloid scar. It’s not high up in the list of reasons to have one by any means but it’s definitely a pro given how much discomfort the scar has caused me.

Order: Given how chaotic our life is at the moment, it would be nice to have something planned.

Expectations: I know more what to expect with a section than I do with natural labour!

Current State: Given my recent health, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with natural labour – the same concern the doctors have which is why I’ve been put on steroids to strengthen my lungs. Though I’m feeling much better, I’ve never felt so exhausted before. This worries me given I’ll soon be introduced to sleepless nights outside of my control with a toddler in tow and not the four extra pairs of hands that I’ve become used to the last few months! 

Anxiety: I’m worried something will go wrong during the section – what if they accidentally cut the baby? I know it’s a risk (albeit a very small one) as it’s something you consent to. The truth is, if they rushed it would only be in an emergency and a small cut on the baby vs saving their life really isn’t even something to ponder over when I think about it rationally. Plus, I’ve already had an emergency section and everything was fine. But equally what if something goes wrong during a VBAC? 

Help/Support: Last time, I was dependent on Preetam for two/three weeks post surgery. He had to help me shower, go to the bathroom and assist me with walking. What if I’m in the same state this time? How would he manage with two kids in tow? I am so lucky to have such a hands on father to our kids – he literally took over last time.

Recovery: A VBAC would mean there’d be a faster recovery provided all went ok. I’d be able to manage with Arjun and a newborn more so than I would be with physical limitations post a c section.

History Repeating Itself?: However there is no guarantee that a VBAC would actually work – my consultant has mentioned that I may have a small pelvis which is why Arjun wasn’t able to come out vaginally the last time. It isn’t something that can be confirmed and it would be a risk I’d have to take. What if I ended up having an emergency section again this time?

The Future: If I was to have a section this time, I’ll have no choice with what method of delivery I’d have if we decided to (and were blessed) have a third. I feel uncomfortable with something being so definitive and final.

Manageable Pain: having dealt with a fractured skull, my pain threshold was pretty high prior to delivering Arjun. After that, I’ve turned in to the biggest wimp! The pain from my last c section while carrying this baby has been unmanageable at times and I worry that opening me up again will make my abdomen weaker and cause me even more problems later.

I really do wish I had a glass ball and could see in to the future – if someone could guarantee that a VBAC would work, as terrified as I’d be and as weak as I currently feel, I’d find the fight in me.  I’m so confused and on a daily basis I sway between the two and what my preference would be.  But weighing up both, I feel right now the best thing for me, the baby and our little family would a planned section and if I do happen to go in to natural labour before then, give a VBAC a go. If there are any signs of history repeating itself with this labour, then I’d ask for a decision to be made about opting for a section without failing to progress and it resulting in an emergency one again.

I’m so grateful to have such a supportive consultant who has been a huge help in determining the best course of action for me.

Of course we have no idea how things are going to unravel, especially with my creeping blood pressure. Here’s to hoping and praying that we all have smooth sailing labours!x

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The Guilt I Never Thought I’d Feel … The Guilt of Having Another | Pregnancy

Having grown up with two sisters, it was always my dream to have at least two children so they always had each other (God willing). The twins and I may fight like cat and dog, but we are tighter than ever – you mess with one of us, you’ve messed with all three (sorry for sounding like a 12 year old but it’s true!). I’m so grateful for being blessed with not one, but two of them. We share everything (most things anyway!) – our happiness and our sorrows and they really are like Arjun’s second mummies. As we grow older, the value I place on our sistership increases.

 

Our pregnancy was planned and mentally I’d only geared myself up for all the positive feelings I thought I’d endure when we finally saw a big fat smiley on our pregnancy test! What I didn’t realize was, how consumed with guilt I would eventually be.  

 

Arjun is at the most beautiful and captivating age. His innocence is still present, but his curiosity means he’s become a proper little person. A person that can voice his likes and dislikes, a person that can tell you how he’s feeling most of the time, a person that has oozes love and affection but also has the ability to turn in to a little gizmo in a split second. This phase is undoubtedly my favourite. I have cried on so many occasions at the thought of it disappearing as quick as the last 27 months have. Is it bad that a part of me wishes I could save my whole self to just observe and enjoy him growing up? I spend each and every day with him, but I still find everything he does so fascinating. I never ever get bored.

 

 Right now, he is the centre of our world – at the heart of every single thing that we do. He gets to have mummy and daddy’s undivided attention (maybe not always but more so than he will!). He’s happiest when he has both of us around him – the smile on his face and the glimmer in his eye shows us how full and content he feels when we are both with him. The last few months have been tough as we’ve lived separately from Preetam while he gets the house extension done. With the baby due a month away and us potentially moving back by Christmas, I feel like he’s barely going to have any quality time with the both of us before the new arrival. How will such a small human cope with the emotions he’ll have to ride when it comes to sharing us with another tiny person? How is he going to process foreign feelings? What if he feels rejected? What if he feels like he wasn’t enough for us that we had to “get another baby”? What if he isn’t able to express his emotions? What if he hates us? What if he becomes distant? – I’m not sure I’ll be able to cope with that. My heart would literally break.

 

 At the moment, he’s also the only grandchild on both sides and is showered with so much love and affection. As soon as he walks in to Dada Ji’s or Nana Ji’s house, all eyes are on him and he’s bossing everyone around. Soon on Preetam’s side there’ll be three babies (Preetam’s sister is expecting a few weeks before me) and on my side there’ll be two. Again, more change. Will he feel like he wasn’t enough for everyone? At the moment, his grandparents are his place for undivided attention, will he be able to cope with sharing the people he dotes most on?

 

I know it’s part of life, I know he’ll have a friend for life, I know eventually he’ll learn to love his sibling but what I feel so horribly guilty about is all the emotions and feelings this little person is going to have to ride through to get to that stage. I feel awful that he’ll have to share us. That we won’t always be able to drop everything for him. I know some people will say “it’s part of life, he’ll need to deal with it one day”, I know that, I know all that, I just worry that it’s all too soon. The new baby will know no different.

 

I’m not even worried about the tantrums and attention seeking that may come my way (she says..) as I’m expecting that (though I’m not prepared for it), I’m more worried about his feelings and emotions. I feel so guilty as I don’t think he even understands what is happening? Will he lose his happy spirit? Will his personality change? Will he have to grow up too quick?

 

I know my emotions seem to be weighing really heavy on the negative side. With him reacting negatively and I know it’s a reflection of my own Guilt. 

 

I’ll feel so guilty while I’m in labour – where he won’t be with Preetam and I. I’ll feel so awful for “leaving him out” although I obviously know he can’t be there. How on earth will I manage the last cuddle before I leave him knowing I’ll be returning with another baby? I HATE how I am sometimes, I literally torture myself, especially when it comes to change.

 

What if he wants a morning cuddle and I’m unable to because I’m too tired? or because I’m feeding the baby?

 

What if I’m unable to love two people as much as I love Arjun?
I’m trying my best to get him used to the idea of a sibling, but if I haven’t full comprehended it, how can I expect him to?

 

I’m sure all will be ok eventually once things settle and I’m sure soon enough I’ll be writing a post on “the guilt I feel for my second child”!!, but right now, I can’t help but feel guilty for my first!
x

 

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Mummy, Baby, Daddy: What’s in My Hospital Bag List | Pregnancy

I remember having a beautifully formatted spreadsheet my last pregnancy – planning everything to the T. Ensuring my hospital bag covered all corners and that there was a nearly packed descriptive list for Preetam as he opened each bag explaining what was where.

This time has been the complete opposite! You’d think it’d be dead easy having done it once but combining baby brain and not knowing where on Earth my list was saved, not living at home and the general blasé attitude that I’m guessing most second time mummies have, I’ve been ridiculously slack. The hospital have told me to have my bag ready since a few weeks ago due to my erratic blood pressure – you’d think that’s give me a kick up the backside but no :l

I’ve managed to successfully pack the baby’s bag (the easiest of them all!) and Preetam’s bits but I’ve still only done half of mine. No idea why I keep putting it off – perhaps it’s the reality that labour isn’t really that far away now. None of the bags so far include a google maps of where everything is in the bag this time. A bit rubbish given I don’t even remember what I’ve packed..!

Anyway, enough of my ramblings! Here’s what I’ve packed (or will be packing!) in my hospital bag. I may end up having a planned section but I may well end up going in to natural labour – this bag is really to cover the latter scenario happening. I’ve also included a list of things I’d packed the last time that I won’t be packing this time.

My bag:
BLUE FILE!

Clothing:

  • Nighties x3 (because I’m OTT)
  • Over the bump maternity knickers (not disposable and over the bump in case I end up having a section for comfort)
  • Nursing bras x2 (will attempt breast feeding if I can)
  • Socks
  • Pyjamas/bottoms x3 (harem style over the bump for extra comfort!)
  • Nursing tops x3
  • Coming home outfit
  • Plastic bag for dirty clothes
  • Hoody (even though it’s bloody boiling in maternity wards)
  • Bath robe
  • Towel
  • Slippers
  • Flip flops (for the shower)

Toiletries/Medicines:

  • Maternity pads x10
  • Breast pads x10
  • Shower gel
  • Body lotion
  • Deodorant
  • Pregnacare after birth
  • BP medication
  • Nipple cream
  • Tooth brush
  • Toothpaste
  • Face cream
  • Hair comb
  • Crocodile hair clip (to stop my hair from getting wet in the shower)
  • Glasses
  • Contact lenses x3
  • Hair band
  • Anti bacterial hand gel
  • Carmex
  • Face wipes

Labour Aid:

  • Snacks (cereal bars, energy drinks, STRAWBERRY RIBENA!, nuts, crisps, mini cheddars, jelly babies)
  • Pic of Arj (my strength)
  • A scan picture (to remind me of why it’ll all be worth it)
  • Straws
  • Hot water bottle
  • Tens machine
  • Mini fan
  • C shaped pregnancy pillow

Make up (because I don’t want to look like shit even though that plan failed last time haha):

  • Handheld mirror
  • Concealer
  • Eyebrow brush and shadow
  • Lipstick
  • Mascara
  • Eye liner
  • Blusher and brush

Other:

  • Phone charger
  • Simran CD
  • Camera
  • Camcorder

Baby:

  • Nappies
  • Vaseline
  • Water wipes
  • Coming home outfit
  • SMA starter kit (incase in unable to breastfeed or incase labour doesn’t go to plan like last time)
  • Baby grow x3
  • Vests x3
  • Hats x3
  • Pram suit
  • Bibs x3
  • Muslin x2
  • Blanket
  • Gift for Arjun from baby (we got a knitted red dinosaur) 

Husband:

  • Toothbrush kit
  • 2 x boxers
  • Socks
  • Deodorant
  • T shirt
  • Change for car park
  • List of important contact numbers incase of emergency

Things I packed last time that I won’t be packing this time:

  • Rescue remedy pastilles
  • Oil for massage
  • Face spray
  • Disposable knickers (they were horrible)
  • Eye mask
  • Folding chair (I didn’t take this out of the car last time)
  • Birthing ball (they have it at the hospital)
  • Cotton wool (we’ll be using water wipes from birth)

Have I missed anything?!x