Past Experiences

As a child we believe that being a grown up is going to be the best thing in the world; no school, no parents telling us what to do and we can go out and stay out as late as we want. When we reach adulthood we realise how hard it is and instantly want to go back to our childhoods where life was so much simpler and, in a sense, parents telling us what to do made us freer. The beauty of childhood is the innocence that comes with it and, even though in some cases this is snatched away at a very young age, children always look for the best in situations and in an instant can go from sad to happy once a new toy, game or tv programme is introduced. As adults, this amazing feature in us all dwindles, responsibility grows, worry and stress take over and bad life experiences start to define and impact us as if they have become ingrained in us.

My life recently has taken a turn for the better, things have started to fall into place and I am now in a relationship with a lovely, caring guy who really makes me happy (just don't tell him because he will use it against me!) Due to past experiences, I feel I am in danger of completely messing this up and, even though it is very easy to say that not everyone is the same, it's much harder to disassociate yourself from the feeling that everyone is and therefore, I always like to prepare myself for the worst. My last relationship left me broken and I have had to rebuild myself back up and now, with this new relationship, there is potential for it to happen all over again which leaves me stupidly worrying over every little thing. My rational side, luckily I have one otherwise I would most definitely have been committed by now, knows that this cannot carry on if I am going to be happy.

I need to go back to the age of innocence and, with this brand new situation, just be positive and let go of the unnecessary stress and worries. It is a big step, but taking the childhood approach and not letting bad situations become ingrained and defining my future is the only way I will be happy. I can't and don't want to mess this up on the basis of my past life because it is just that, a past experience. Time for us all to remember that not all experiences are the same, its time for us to choose the ones that define us, the ones that have the potential to make us happy and, does he make me happy? Abso-fucking-lutely :)

Life...Well let's just say We're Not the Best of Friends at the Moment

Well...it has been nearly 3 years since my last post about my PND and boy has life changed since!

Long story cut very short, I am now living back in Cymru with my gorgeous little man, who is now 3 years old fyi (where did that go?) and we have a lovely home together. He has blossomed into a funny, crazy, clever, loving little boy who I couldn't be prouder of; every day he comes out with something new especially about trains or dinosaurs or Bing the bloody rabbit on CBeebies (yeah it is starting to grate a tad after the 100th time). He is the best part of my life and the one thing I am very very proud of.

So what is with the title I hear you ask? Well, I know life has a tendency to throw curve balls our way, to test our resilience and to allow us to find out how strong we truly are. You would think after a long, arduous labour, postnatal depression, a break up, moving back home from England, moving 3 times in 2 years, being a single mum and all the financial difficulties that can come with and also still battling with anxiety, that life would cut me some slack. No. Not at all. Apparently my test isn't over, apparently life is not satisfied with my trials that I have overcome to the place I am now, which by the way is a reasonably decent place in some respects.

Thankfully, as I age not-so-gracefully, I'm getting sparks of that thing called wisdom, where I am able now to see the bigger picture rather than fall defeated when something else happens in my life that tries to drag me down. I am now getting to know myself after years of ignoring me, and have realised that I am stronger than I previously led myself to believe, although I have realised I have a huge "I don't care" attitude too especially when it comes to other people's opinions of me...Good or bad, I'm not sure. I was talking to my soul sister yesterday and was saying how people around you, even your inner circle, will criticise you in many ways; whether it is your looks, personality, fashion sense, man choices, the way you drive, what you eat, what you drink, how many times you go out, it is constant criticism. I have learnt that you are your only back up and being your own worst critic, which most of us are, then you have no one to trust, no one who will believe in you and you will not have any conviction in your beliefs or decisions. You are your own best line of defence. Since learning that small thing my outlook has changed completely and I'm much happier. Yes it does get exhausting not catching break, but it allows me to show qualities that I didn't know I had and it helps me to believe in myself.

In celebration of this, I got two tattoos: 1 is the Harry Potter Deathly Hallows symbol and the other is a lotus mandala.

The Harry Potter symbol means a lot to me. Yes I am a huge fan of the series (books of course) and I think the world that J.K Rowling created is phenomenal but that wasn't the only reason. HP is full of notions on strength, courage and resilience and, even though it is a "children's" book, it inspires me a hell of a lot.

My lotus mandala has an incredibly special meaning to me. Lotus flowers are beautiful and they grow through the mud, up through murky waters to bloom above them. Even though they have come through all of the dirt and dank waters, they flourish above it all. I feel I have done the same; I have bloomed through all of the crap.

So, back to my title. No me and life aren't friends at the moment because you know what they say: "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" and usually it is your enemies that push you to be better because you want to prove them wrong. And that's exactly what I'm doing.

Take a deep breath and carry on.

It's been 6 months of parenthood, how on earth has it been that long already? Reading my past blogs and it all seems like another life. Unfortunately, as much as everyone thinks parenthood for me has been bliss and life is simple and wonderful for us, it is far from it. For the past 2 months I have been suffering with postnatal depression and it's turned this wonderful time in to a nightmare.

First of all I was consumed with so much love for my little boy, couldn't believe he was mine, he was just so perfect and so beautiful. Over time this feeling of him not being mine engrossed me and I began to feel like I was just his minder and I was constantly waiting for someone to come and collect him. It crept up on me, I didn't even see it coming until I was finding it hard to cope with things like packing to move and ironing to the point where I was having anxiety attacks. Then one day, it hit me and the choking black fog took hold of me and suffocated me and left me crying uncontrollably on the stairs wondering how long I can carry on for. The worst feeling in the world is crying and your baby starting to cry because he can hear how upset you are, it completely broke my heart and made me feel like such a failure as a mother and a person. I left Artie in his bouncer knowing Andy was home any second and ran upstairs to escape and to go to the only place I wanted to be... my bed. I cried and cried and felt like I was the worst human being possible. What kind of person doesn't love their child? The child that I brought into this world with every fibre of my being, the child that before now had consumed every part of me? I just felt numb, hollow and drained to the point where I thought about pouring boiling water onto my arm just to feel something! I was being crushed by my own self loathing and guilt.

I was taken to the doctors where I was diagnosed with PostNatal Depression. I was relieved that the way I was feeling wasn't because I was a bad mother but a physical problem. The fact I felt I didn't love my son was extremely common and it wasn't that the love had gone, it was just being smothered by everything else in my mind and body. I was given tablets and sent to a group to try and help me out of it. I even took up sewing classes as a way to get myself out of my own head and focused on something else. The support I had from Andy, my family and friends has been outstanding and I don't think I would be in the position I am today without them.

Two months on and I am getting better. The tablets are working and giving me motivation and the classes give me a new outlook on things. My sewing classes are fantastic and, as well as giving me a bit of 'me time', I've learnt how to make some lovely things including Artie's first ever halloween costume. The biggest achievement to date is feeling like I am Artie's mum, he is my son and that I love him unconditionally. It has taken me 6 months to feel that I am a parent and I am finally getting there.

My purpose for this blog is to not for sympathy but to not be ashamed of having postnatal depression and for anyone feeling this way to tell someone, get help. It happens to alot of women and some women won't do anything about it because they feel guilty about not being able to cope. I felt that way and am lucky enough to have people who love me and support me and who made me face up to it. The best thing I can say to anyone feeling this way is that it will get better. There is light through the dense black fog and it may only be small but it will continue to grow until it clears.

xx

A letter to my baby boy...

Dear Artie,

You are two months old already! The time has flown by simply because I have had so much fun with you. You're such a happy little boy, full of smiles and excitement that warms my heart everytime. Being your mummy is what I was made to do and I have never been so happy or felt so complete. You have turned me and your daddy from a couple into a lovely little family and we have never been happier.

Let's start from the night you were born...

It was St George's day that you decided you wanted to come and see us, much to your mummy's horror! Nannie Wales had to rush up and Nanny Papps had to drive faster than the speed of light to get to mummy and daddy to take mummy to the hospital - not before she washed up for us though! We got to the hospital at 7am and Nannie Wales arrived at 8, just in time for mummy to be taken to her room where she would stay for 25 hours. It was painful for mummy and daddy kept falling asleep but, when he was awake, he was by mummy's side holding her hand through the pain. At 2.10am on the 24th April you had decided you had had enough and wanted to come out to see us so mummy started pushing but you had tangled yourself up on your umbilical cord which meant that mummy needed help. The doctor brought you out with forceps and you were born at 2.49am and placed straight onto mummy. Mummy, daddy and nannie were shedding tears of happiness as you were perfect but we were soon brought back down to earth when nannie opened your towel to get a good look at you and you had poo inside your towel! We instantly knew you were going to be just like your father. The paediatrician checked you as you had had a traumatic time but you fought her off and cried and was only calm when you were put into your daddy's arms and heard his voice. We named you Arthur Thomas George Papps and you were 7lb 3oz. Our little family was born.

Since that day you have been swamped with friend and family visits, lavished with gifts and cards and smothered in love and kisses. You are a very loved little boy, not just from mummy, daddy, uncle Tom and all your nanny's and grandads but also by mummy and daddy's friends. Everyone loves your cuddles and comments on how alert and how gorgeous you are. You make funny little noises that make everyone laugh and love to cry until someone comes to see you, then you transforms your pouty bottom lip to your beautiful little smile. Your such a cheeky boy that everyone can't help but love you, even daddy when you have peed and had a poo on him.

Every moment with you is enjoyable. I love spending every my day with you, from the morning when my heart is melted by your warm smile when you wake up and see me, to the evening when I get an immense rush of love when you fall asleep on my chest. We are so blessed to have you in our lives little one and, even though you are growing up far too quickly, me and daddy are so very lucky to be the ones to love, nurture and watch you grow into a lovely little boy.

We love you Artie always and forever

xxx

Final Countdown

Well, this is it, the final few days before my due date. I know he could still technically take another 2 weeks to come but there's still a sense of finality about it all. One of the biggest changes in my life is about to give way to another and, in all honesty, I am terrified. 

I have been told it is normal to feel anxious, scared, helpless, and even though millions and millions of women have been through this too, I can't help but feel I am the only one going through it all, probably because it's all still so new and different. Now is the time to evaluate everything, to step up to the mark and there's so much pressure on my shoulders as I am the one who has to go through the pain and bring him into this world safely as, being his mother, this is my responsibility. There's no room for slacking or half efforts, this is the time I need man up and give it everything I have. My faith in myself has been floundering so much, especially over the last few weeks, but, once again, my friends and family have overwhelmed me with their complete faith in me and my abilities, both in giving birth and in becoming a mother. Not one person has doubted that I won't be capable of doing either of these, the only one who is doubting both of these is me. 

I have always been incredibly critical of myself, ever since I was young, whether it was my looks, my weight, my abilities in school, I always put myself down, much to the annoyance of my friends. Although part of these issues I have left behind with my teenage years, I am now finding that I am heavily criticising myself on grown up things such as career choices and, of course, being a mum. By telling myself I haven't got the patience or strength to be a mother or that I don't have the capacity or imagination to write a Children's book makes me want to try and prove myself wrong. People may say that this is a good thing but surely it would be easier to just believe in myself and not to add more pressure to the situation? 

The one thing that I can say with absolute confidence is that he is going to be one lucky little boy with family and friends who are going to completely love and adore him. He is going to have a fantastic dad who is going to be a wonderful role model and, being a big kid himself, is going to be so much fun! He's also blatantly going to be the favourite parent too as I am going to have to be the disciplinarian... to both of them that is! Why have I got this feeling they're going to be the terrible twosome?! 

Anyway, we live and learn and that's all I can hope for at the minute. Wish me luck!

xx

Finding me

As you can probably guess from my other blogs, I am really looking forward to becoming a mum. I have hit the nesting phase of the pregnancy where I have begun sorting the flat ready for his arrival, washing his clothes and just collecting the final pieces from the shops just to make sure everything is ready. As great as this is, I've been feeling like I have lost myself a little bit. I have been on maternity leave for 2 weeks now and I haven't done anything that I have wanted to do, everything has been about baby or making sure that the washing is done, flat is tidy and food is cooked for the boy's return. It's not like I want to go out partying or go out and spend copious amounts of money on myself, but I do want to get a piece of me back, the girl who loved to just sit in a coffee shop and read for a few hours, or to go and sit in the park in the beautiful weather and just appreciate how wonderful things are. I just find myself pushing all those things back to do all the baby things instead. I know this is part of evolving into motherhood, I just don't want to forget me either especially as after little one arrives (which is a mere 5 weeks away) everything will change and I will completely and utterly fall in love with him and I will lose me to give everything to my little boy. I am prepared for this but I still have time and am constantly being told to appreciate the little time I have left.

I am extremely grateful for my friends as they have ways of making me remember who I am. My soul sister reminds me to take a little time for me i.e have a bubble bath, have a facial, paint my nails and to just be a girl before I am over run with boys! I have my London girl who comes to me for advice on things happening in her life, which I love, as it shows that no matter the situation I am the person she can count on for honest advice, just like I was when we were in uni. Then I have Chadwick, I have decided against a code name for this guy as there is just no point, everyone knows him and who ever doesn't should get to know him. No matter what this guy will keep you grounded and, despite me breaking the cardinal rule and getting pregnant, he is still just as rude and brutal as he always is which makes it nice to know that he will never change no matter what the situation and he will try his best to make sure you don't either! I am extremely grateful for this even though he still doesn't let up on the welsh jibes despite me knowing him for over 3 years now!

And on that note, I am currently sat indoors looking out of the window at the gorgeous sunny day and have decided that I am going to take some drastic action! I am going to go out, sit in the sun and read my new book - the one thing I love to do in the summer time (I know it's only March but you get the idea). So here is my first attempt to keep a little bit of me... Wish me luck!

xxx

Valentine's Day

Well, it is that time of year again where shops are adorned with hearts, teddies, chocolate and flowers for all of us lovesick puppies to go and splurge on the person we love and adore. Personally, I can't stand this so called holiday. Coming 2 months after Christmas where we have been lavished with gifts, completely spoilt and been made completely broke, Valentine's day is just another commercial excuse to make money. Now, I know I sound very cynical here (as I have already been told by Nat, the love witch :p) but I don't believe that this day, out of 365 of the year, is the one time we show the other person who means so much to us how much we love them. Call me old fashioned, but surely, if your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend etc means the world to you and you can't live without them as they are your entire existence, then why shouldn't that be celebrated on a daily basis. A bunch of flowers randomly bought on your way home as you know that they are her favourite, a beautiful home-cooked meal with a nice bottle of wine when he comes home from work, being told how much you are loved just before he leaves the house; it is the simple things like this that makes your heart smile and truly shows how you feel. I'm not cynical when it comes to love itself, like any other woman I love everything about this feeling; being in love, being loved and finding that one person who is your best friend, who you can laugh and joke with, who understands you without you needing to explain, who can sense when your scared and is there to hold your hand without question, the one you want to be with for the rest of your life, but I don't like the idea of being forced to celebrate it with cards and expensive gifts. Call me a cheap date but a candlelit picnic on the living room floor followed by a film and a cuddle sounds like an ideal night.

Just a note to those who are blessed to have this beautiful feeling in your life, treasure it every moment of every day and not just on the 14th February.

xx