Thank you, NHS...

This blog comes direct to you guys from UHCW, where my poorly little poppet is laying in a cot next to me. Advance warning... I haven't slept and this post is laced with sarcasm!

I've been very aware lately of all the negativity around the NHS and their (supposed) inability to provide excellent care at the weekend... That is just absurd. After experiencing it first hand this weekend, I want to give the NHS the credit it deserves! 

After a week of a poorly Poppy not getting any better, I called 111 yesterday (Sunday) at around 1:30pm and they booked us an appointment at the walk in centre for 5pm. We were seen at 5pm. On the dot. By a doctor who, in my eyes, is the best doctor we have ever taken Poppy to. Instead of ignoring Poppy and talking directly to Steve and I, he fully acknowledged her and tried incredibly hard to make her smile, laugh and stay calm while he was checking her over, which was absolutely wonderful. Instead of being scared, and despite being very poorly, she just went with the flow. If only all doctors could be like this guy was... But let's not forget... Apparently, care isn't as good at the weekends.

We were sent over to UHCW, where the waiting room in Childrens A&E was jam packed with poorly little ones, yet we didn't once feel forgotten. We were booked in quickly, triaged quickly, given medicine quickly, then seen by a doctor within an hour and a half. Yet again the doctor who looked at Poppy was wonderful. After checking her over and giving us his diagnosis and recommendations (which were only a little different from the first doctors), he actually asked for my opinion on the right way to treat her. In his very words, "Mum is always right, we always listen to Mum's opinion." 

What an incredible attitude. On a Sunday.

Poppy was admitted and given oxygen, antibiotics and calpol, and was tended to overnight by two of the most caring nurses I have ever encountered. And believe me, I have had my fair share of hospital admissions by which to make comparisons!

Even this morning when the nurses are nearing the end of their long night shifts (again, let's stress, on a weekend) they are kind, and helpful, and doing their rounds with smiles on their faces. 

This weekend I have been truly astounded by the care Poppy has received, and very pleasantly surprised by it too. There is so much negativity about the NHS floating around, and especially about the level of care the provide at weekends, so I was a little apprehensive... But to that absurd hearsay, I'm afraid I now have to stick two fingers up. It's a load of crap. 

From the moment I called 111, to right this second, when the nurses have just been to check Poppys oxygen, I can honestly say the care she has received has been wonderful.

Everyone here is working their socks off, nurses, doctors, health care assistants, receptionists... and I really think the negative comments about the NHS are unjust. Yes, this may just be the humble opinion of one person, but it's a positive one, and maybe, just maybe I can combat some negativity with this post. 

I am so very grateful that we have this health care system in place in the UK. And it's free to use. Free. If we feel poorly, or our families are poorly we can go and see a doctor, for nothing. There are people suffering in the world without any access to any sort of health care... I feel foolish for ever having moaned about the NHS, because come on, we all have at some point.

Thank you, NHS. For all that you do.

The Dreaded 'Mummy Guilt'...

So it’s been a while since I was able to blog because, you know, ‘life’ got in the way, but I’m going to try and be better at doing it more regularly again, and with Christmas not far away, I’m sure I’ll have plenty to write (ramble on) about!

Something that’s been on my mind, and I’ve wanted to write about for a while is ‘mummy guilt’, which is honestly a real thing. Ask almost any Mum, anywhere.

‘Mummy guilt’ as a term, is something I probably would have rolled my eyes at before I had  Poppy… now however, it is something that is constant in my life. Seriously, every day. There is always the feeling of not doing enough, or that I should have done something different, or something better.

Like when the house needs cleaning, but I played with Poppy instead…

Or when I cleaned the house and didn’t play with Poppy for long enough…

Or if I only read her one book, should I have read her two??

Did she spend too long watching the Disney channel because I needed to get some jobs done?

Was that sneeze because I didn’t wrap her up enough?? (I mean, come on… a sneeze is just a sneeze)

When I went back to work in June, the Mummy guilt reached brand new levels. I wished so dearly that I could afford to stay home with my girl just a little bit longer, but that wasn’t the case. I needed adult interaction, she needed to be around children and we needed the money. Our little Popstar was already growing so quickly and now I was going to miss so much by being at work. My mind went crazy with guilt and my heart felt heavy… Would she dislike me for sending her to someone else’s house while I worked? Would she resent me for making that choice? As it turns out, she LOVES her child-minder and practically squeals with excitement when she opens the door to us every morning. I know I’m lucky with that, but I’m also very thankful of our child-minder. We found a great one, who Poppy loves, and she’s developing so well, which eases the guilt on that topic somewhat, although not completely.

I’ve kind of accepted that the guilt will always be there, but what I’ve spent a lot of time trying to work out is, why? Why was it, that since this little person came into our lives, I can’t trust in what I’m doing enough to know that it is in fact, enough? Would it ever be enough? Then I read a wonderful blog (I’m sorry, I can’t remember the name of it to link it), in which the writer mentioned the Mummy guilt, and for her, she had decided to embrace it. What she wrote sounded so right to me, that I too decided to embrace it.

For me (and I stress this is only my opinion), if I’m not feeling the Mummy guilt, then I’ve stopped caring as much as I should. What a brilliant way to turn a negative feeling into something I can process and use! Not everyone may be able to do this, and that’s fine, but for me, I think I can, and I will definitely try to. If my girl is loved, and fed and (mostly) happy, then I am doing the best that I can.

So now, when I the guilt hits, I will be trying to embrace it instead of feeling beaten by it.

Come at me, Mummy Guilt. Bring it on.

Xx

Things I could learn from my Daughter...

My daughter may only be 1, but she has already taught me so much. SO much. I was thinking about this recently and started to make a list of the things I have learned from her and things I could learn from her, not from being her Mum (I already did a post on that http://amiileanne.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/what-being-mummy-has-taught-me.html ), but things I could really learn from watching her and how she is. I know that sounds crazy… she’s the child and I’m the parent and I should be doing the teaching, but hear me out…

Here are a few things that I think I could really learn from my beautiful daughter.

1. She accepts people and loves without boundaries.

She doesn’t care about age, gender, race, background, religion, or any of those things. Watching children play and interact no matter the difference between them is a really special thing. It’s something I think a LOT of people could learn from.

2. She doesn’t judge.

The world hasn’t taught her to judge yet.

3. She’s not greedy for ‘things’.

Poppy doesn’t want the latest gadgets (apart from mine and her Dads phones… of course she wants those because she can’t have them). She doesn’t constantly want for new toys, or the most fashionable clothes. Really small children aren’t greedy for those things because they don’t truly know how to be, and although they know quite well how to throw a tantrum, the tantrum is usually short lived. They want our time.  Poppy wants me to play with her, and read to her, and take her to the park. She wants the same from her Daddy, and her Grandparents. She wants for the things that don’t cost a penny, and she is free to do that for as long as she wants. We all need to take a leaf from that book.

4. She goes with the flow.

Now, I know not all children are so great with change, and I know I am lucky to have a little lady that embraces change so well. I am almost 30, and I still suck with change sometimes. I have learned to panic, to stress, and to really over think everything that goes with change, and I, personally, need to learn from these lovely, adaptable little toddlers who see things simply for what they are. Change is ok. It will all be ok.

5. She’s always happy.

She can’t tell me this, but the constant smile on her face (anyone who knows her will know that’s true) shows me that she is happy. She smiles at everything and everyone around her. She’s not cynical or full of hatred; she doesn’t know how to be. She smiles because the world she sees around her is good. Imagine how much better our world would be if we all smiled because of the world around us, instead of taking to social media to rant about this, that and the other.

I know this a short and sweet post, but when I started thinking about it, it really struck a chord with me. Maybe it will resonate with you too, maybe it won’t, and that’s ok. Maybe you have learned from little ones and maybe you haven’t, and that’s ok.

Maybe, just maybe, we could all learn something from the way children see the world…

#sayingthanksBLAW15

You may or may not know that this week is Baby Loss Awareness Week... But if you don't know, hopefully you will soon.

There are millions of people in the world who have experienced the heart wrenching pain associated with losing a baby, and despite that, it's still quite a hushed topic. That's why I will always support any 'break the silence' cause. I know this is my second blog about this topic in a short space of time, but I hope you guys don't mind, and understand that it's just something I'm passionate about.

This week, The Miscarriage Association are asking people who've experienced a loss to say thank you to the people who supported them. I immediately wanted to be involved, so I grabbed my notepad and started thinking. I thought I would do a video talking about my experience and end it with my #sayingthanks, or maybe I'd just take a photo holding up a sign, both of which I might still do, but for now I wanted to write. I knew I wouldn't struggle to find something or someone to be thankful for, but what I maybe wasn't ready for, was the amount of things I found I was thankful for.

So here goes...

To the people who supported me in one of the worst times in my life, thank you for:

Being there.

Letting me cry. And scream. A lot.

Being honest and telling me you didn't understand how I felt, but you knew it must have been awful.

Trying to understand.

Telling me it wasn't my fault.

Making me feel less like a statistic and more like a person.

Sharing your story with me. I know that can't have been easy for you.

Listening.

Sitting in silence with me.

Bringing me hideously fattening comfort food.

Making me tea. Tea makes everything seem better.

Giving me cuddles.

Driving hundreds of miles just to give me cuddles.

Allowing me to grieve.
Giving me time.

Giving me hope.

Giving me tough love.

Being gentle with me when I needed you to be.

Letting me hide away when I wanted to.

Helping me face the world when I was ready to.

Bringing me vodka, or wine, or both. Then drinking it with me, or not drinking it if I didn't want to. 

Helping me come to terms with what had happened.

Helping me to understand.

Helping me to help others in similar situations.

Supporting me in every way you possibly could.

Remembering the anniversary of my miscarriage and acknowledging it as something that I needed to mark, even as the years go on.

Giving me the confidence to open up and share my story.

Understanding that having my beautiful rainbow baby, however grateful I am for her and however much I love her, it doesn't lessen the pain of losing a baby. And knowing that that is one of the hardest and most conflicting feelings to have.

Being the most amazingly supportive family anyone on this planet could wish for. 

Being the perfect definition of the word 'friend'.
Telling me it was going to be ok.

And to the (very few) people who didn't support me at all: 

Thank you for making me a MUCH stronger person. Your hurtfulness taught me to never treat people the way you treated me.

#sayingthanksBLAW15

Xx

My baby turned ONE...

So the blog this week is late (sorry), because we have been very busy celebrating a special little lady’s first birthday, and what a celebration we've had!

We had a lovely party for her on Sunday with most of our family and friends; the garden was just full of happiness and laughter which was perfect, then yesterday on her actual birthday, we had a family day. Steve and I took Poppy over to Birmingham to the Sea Life Centre, and she loved it. Well, apart from the jelly fish. She wasn't a fan of that section! The memory of her face when she was looking at all the fish is something I will treasure forever, and I'm sure Steve will too. The giant turtles were a big hit with her! Spending the day together was a lovely treat for Steve and me too. So often, work or life gets in the way and we can be far too quick to say “oh, we’ll do it another time”… so having the day with the 3 of us, with no interruptions, was incredible.

There were so many points throughout yesterday that I got a bit emotional. How was my baby one year old already? Where did that time go? Seriously.  Everybody tells you how fast the time will go once you have a baby, and it's so true. I kept thinking back to that time one year ago, when she was on her way into the world, and thinking, what an amazing year it’s been. I had no idea what this journey would entail, but if the future is going to be anything like this past year has been, it’s going to be amazing! That’s not to say there haven’t been challenges or rocky points… oh there have been plenty of those, but they've all helped make this year what it’s been, and for that I'm grateful. So I am looking back on absolutely everything with a smile… even the colic, the poonamis (even the really awkward ones at friends houses!), and the (many) nights of less than an hours sleep in total.

I feel quite emotional about the fact that we've said goodbye to another stage in Poppy’s life, but yet happy to have reached another new phase. It’s a very conflicting feeling. She’s not a ‘baby baby’ any longer, which makes me a little sad (although she will always be my baby), but we have reached a new exciting phase where she’s learning more, is discovering new things every day and has a beautiful personality that is developing every day. That makes me unbelievably happy. It’s a bit comparable to when you put a load of baby clothes away to make room for the next age, or put some toys in a box in the loft… only much bigger than that. It’s such an emotionally confusing time, which I'm sure a lot of Mums will say, but it’s quite difficult to explain properly, so I'm sorry if this post makes little to no sense at all! Poor Steve was met with tears from me yesterday when I was overcome with emotion watching Poppy reacting to all the fish. They were happy and sad tears all at once, and I didn't know what to do with them, so I'm fairly certain he didn't… poor guy!

After lunch yesterday we went and did a 'big' thing... we bought Poppy's first pair of shoes! No tears (from either of us) thankfully. She loves them and wouldn't let me take them off yesterday afternoon until bath time, and she seemed to walk a little more confidently in them too! She's definitely a girly girl right now... we only had to mention going shopping for shoes, and she was squealing with excitement in the car!

When we got home, we started opening the mountain of presents she has; we are still working on it, and to be honest, I think it will probably take us all week to get through. Our family and friends are very generous; Poppy is a lucky girl to be loved so very much. This is the first time Poppy has had presents that she has been interested in (and been able to properly) open herself. Her little face was a picture when she was looking at her new toys, and when she opened a few presents she let out such cute noises of excitement! It made me smile so much I almost had face ache. It also brought on a new wave of emotion over how loved she is, and by so many people. We're a very, very lucky family indeed.

Steve and I gave ourselves a cheeky pat on the back yesterday. We had made it through our first year of parenthood with no major issues, and we had also managed to plan a wedding in that time…  yey us! I've said it before, but having Poppy made me love him more than I knew I could. And my love for him has only grown in the past year, and I'm sure it will continue to grow!

All in all, her first birthday couldn't have gone any better, which is a pretty fair reflection of how I feel about how her first year in the world has been. I couldn't be prouder of her, or love her more if I tried to. But then I guess that's what being a mum is all about...

I don't understand why miscarriage is still a taboo subject...

This week I wanted to talk about something which for some reason, is still something people don't talk about very much.

Miscarriage.

Last week was 6 years since my miscarriage. 6 years is a fair amount of time, and in the years that have passed, at lot has happened, and I have grown and learned to understand why that pregnancy ended the way it did. In recent years I haven't been so upset by the anniversary, but have looked back on the memory as a stepping stone to the wonderful, amazing life I have now. This year, however, I looked at it from a whole new perspective, a parents perspective; and this made the anniversary harder than it's been in a long time. Never before on September 10th, had I known what it meant to be a parent, now I do, and my heart felt heavy. I truly longed to know what that baby would have been like, but I felt like I couldn't vocalise that. I didn't want to seem ungrateful for what I have now, because Poppy and Steve are my entire world, and I wouldn't have them if not for the way things turned out, but that was an incredibly hard thing to feel. I suppose it would have been even harder to explain.

All day I wanted to tell someone how I felt, just share my thoughts, maybe have a hug... but I didn't. Instead I found myself wondering why I didn't. Or couldn't. Maybe deep down I didn't want to, but I don't know. The day has passed now and I was fine with a hug from Steve at the end of the day.

It got me thinking though. Why do people find miscarriage to be such a taboo subject??  Miscarriage is, sadly, an all too common event. About one in every four pregnancies ends this way and another one in 100 pregnancies is ectopic, so I don't understand why there's such a stigma around it; I never have understood that. People often say they don't know what to say to someone who has suffered a miscarriage; that it makes them feel awkward or uneasy. Maybe if it was a more open topic, people wouldn't have the worry about saying the right thing. Maybe people wouldn't feel awkward and would see how therapeutic it is for some people to talk about it and share their feelings and experience. Maybe all someone needs is a hug, but how do you explain why you need a hug when your explanation makes someone back away.

If you don't know what to say to someone, just listen. Try not to judge or be cliché with statements like "there's always next time" or "it'll get better in time". They don't always help. Yes it will get better, time is a healer, and I personally learned that everything happens for a reason, but that isn't the case for everyone. If you've experienced loss of any kind, you probably know that hearing "give it time", doesn't help at all. 

If you find yourself on the end of someone's miscarriage story, just try to listen (if you can), be there for them. Have a hug ready, or a cuppa, or some chocolate, or some vodka! But what will really help, is listening. And maybe the more people listen, the less people will be afraid to talk about it.

My image from the calendar... I was Miss November

In the early months (and years) following my miscarriage I took a lot of comfort from The Miscarriage Association (http://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/), but in recent years, I haven't needed that level of support any longer, and have backed away from the groups. They did their job, they supported me and I made some life long friends (all of whom have gone on to have their rainbow babies now, yey). To be fair, I am incredibly lucky that my family and friends have always, always been supportive and there for me. I am one of the lucky ones.

A few years ago I got involved with a campaign with the MA where we shot a calendar for Miscarriage Awareness; it got people talking AND raised money towards important research. I will always endeavour to be part of the Break the Silence movement, because I will always have my star in the sky spurring me on. 

Maybe my voice will make a difference, maybe it won't, but I will always keep trying. What if we all tried. Imagine the difference we could make together...

Let's Do This... Come at me, Slimming World...

This is a short and sweet blog this week. It isn't profound or deep, but it's my life and what's happening, and I want to be honest and true with my blogs!

Last week I rejoined Slimming World. I looked in the mirror and wasn't a fan of the roll poking out above my jeans and I walked around all week feeling horribly self conscious and 'wobbly', and I've been feeling that way for a while, so I've decided to do something about it... Or at least try to. 

I did Slimming World once before, and it worked really well for me; I lost a stone and a half last time! Since then I've had two years off shows and dancing, produced a small person, and got married!! It's safe to say (most of) the weight has crept back on. I'm technically thinner than I was pre-Poppy, but I'm heavier than I'd like to be. The scales and I are not friends right now!

I think I've been relatively good since having Poppy, and although I've had a few more takeaways than I used to, I've generally been OK with food and exercise. That said, I have let it slip a bit. I don't want to use the phrase 'let myself go' because I hate that. It's just life isn't it. I've had a baby, and a very switched on one at that! I've not had the time to work out or cook super healthy food like I used to, but now that she's sleeping better, I do have some of that time back and I am determined to succeed and see a slightly thinner Amii in the mirror looking back at me soon. 

I have set myself a target, but I'll probably move it when I get near to it... I just wanted to set a reachable goal instead of setting something unattainable and being upset with myself when I didn't reach it. The reason for that is because this new Slimming World journey is for me, and me alone. I'm not dieting because someone, or society told me to, I'm doing it because I want to get healthier, thinner, fitter, and make better food choices. 

I'll probably sneak my weigh in updates into my posts and will probably share some of my favourite recipes :) (I've already shared my soup one... http://amiileanne.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/honeymoon-is-over-time-to-diet-super.html)

I'm full of apprehension... I really want to succeed at this, but I am also full of motivation and dedication, which I really think is the key! Who knows where I'll be in a few weeks; I could be jumping for joy because I've lost half a stone, or I could be crying in the corner because I haven't lost anything. I really hope it's not the latter. Whatever the outcome, I'm back on plan and I'm in this 100%... 

Come at me Slimming World. Let's go...

Parenting is hard... Sometimes a break is just what you need...

¡Hola! So the reason I've been utterly rubbish at blogging lately is because we had our honeymoon :) :) We were lucky enough that the overwhelming generosity of our family and friends enabled us to have a week in the completely beautiful Riu Palace Pacifico Hotel in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. It was an incredible week, and was the perfect way to celebrate and reflect on our wedding (even though it was a little while afterwards). We did so much while we were there and really made the most of some 'us' time together, and I feel like we both feel better for it. In fact I feel like we all feel a bit better for having some time away... Poppy included. I've had this discussion a few times since being home, and I've been met by different reactions, but to be honest (and to reiterate what I've said before) what is right for us (parenting wise) may not be right for someone else, so please, let's not be judgemental.

Before we went away, I really wanted to blog about being away from Poppy for a week (well, 9 nights in total... not that I was counting or anything), but I didn't truly know how I would feel, and speculation doesn't make for great writing, so I held off until now, so I can talk from experience.

It took a lot of convincing for me to agree to leave Poppy at home while we went to Mexico. A week seemed like such a long time and we would be so far away! The Mummy guilt was almost too much, but eventually, I agreed, and I'm so glad I did, which is apparently, judging by reactions when I've said this, a controversial thing to say?! I'm not sure why though. I love my baby, but I love my husband too, without him there would be no her, so I think it's OK to enjoy time without her. It don't think it makes me a bad Mum, I actually think it made me a better Mum, and a better wife.

I thought I would be a total wreck when it came to dropping Poppy off on the Friday lunchtime before we left, but actually, I was surprisingly OK. I had to tell Steve not to talk to me for a minute or two when we left in case I cried, but by the time we hit the A46 out of Coventry, I was OK. She was OK. She had her own little cot and tonnes of toys at Mum and Dads, and she absolutely adores them, so I knew she would be fine. When I've told people that I wasn't a complete wreck, without tears streaming from my eyes as I left her, some have been shocked that I wasn't more emotional... but I don't get why. I was still going to leave her... what would dramatics have done except make everything harder for all of us??

On the Saturday morning we got up nice and early and off we went to Gatwick. Again, I was surprisingly OK, but we had spoken to Mum in the morning and then in the airport lounge we took advantage of the free wifi and face timed our beautiful girl. She was smiling and happy so I was immediately put at ease, not that I had expected her to be any other way to be honest. The flight was fine, and so was the first night in Mexico however, I was starting to feel a little guilty that I didn't feel like my heart was breaking being away from her (or something equally as dramatic), but I was ok.

Every morning when we woke up, we face timed (how amazing is technology), and each time, Poppy would beam from ear to ear when she saw us. It was the highlight of my mornings, and Steve will back me up when I say that I practically leapt out of bed each day to get my phone and make the call. When I saw how happy she was, I knew she was fine, and that made it easy for me to relax and enjoy every second of the honeymoon (have I mentioned it was amazing?!) That's not to say I didn't talk about her at every chance I got, to anyone who asked (and to a fair few who didn't). I'm sure I bored our new friends to tears, but they were so lovely and listened to me bragging about my perfect little ray of sunshine, and how good she was being for her Nanny and Grandad.

I was able to start my days knowing that all was OK back home, and that meant I was able to be completely 'there' with Steve, without having my mind racing back to Coventry all the time to wonder how Poppy was, which was kind of the whole point. I know just how lucky I am to have people that love Poppy so much and will take care of her for us without a moments hesitation, and I don't take that for granted at all.

Many parents will tell you they 'need a break', and I mean a real break. A few days child free, rather than just a couple of hours at home without them, when actually you end up busier because you feel like you need to make the most of that time. So 3 loads of washing, and a sparkling house later you've achieved loads, but actually sometimes you feel no better than when your little munchkin(s) left you. So few of my Mummy friends feel like they can take a proper break because the guilt sets in. I had told myself there would be almost no guilt on our honeymoon (easier said than done), and I was to make the most of this time with my new husband. Actually, that was exactly what I needed to do. I needed a break from a very beautiful, switched on, non-sleeping little lady, which in the run up to the honeymoon I felt very guilty about.

I was a little ashamed to admit it during the holiday, but having a break from motherhood was doing me the world of good. Of course I missed her with every fibre of my being, but I realised it was doing us all the world of good, when a few days into the holiday I had had a full nights sleep and so had Poppy!! She had slept through the night for the first time, in her cot, with no fuss... and she continued to do so for the rest of the break! What a star! Before we had gone away, I would spend all evening running up and down the stairs to settle her, and she slept in a cot with one side down, against our bed, which often meant that she managed to crawl in with us. 

It was at this point of the holiday that I let go of the guilt that had crept in. Time away and in a slightly different routine, turned out to be just what she needed too. What a big (almost) year it's been for her, she just needed a break. I wasn't being a bad Mum by leaving her. Phew. Aaaaaand relax!! For Steve and I, having some 'us' time proved invaluable. We've not had that in almost a year (which I'm not complaining about, I wouldn't have it any other way), but because of that, I think we savoured every single moment together, which made our honeymoon soooooo special. We had time to have real conversations, that didn't revolve around baby food, nap times or delightful nappy contents. We got dressed up for dinner and drinks every night (not a bit of baby sick in sight) and we had time to make some new friends, who actually live near us so we hope to stay in touch. We had time to mess about in the pool, drink cocktails, read books and walk along the beach. We had time to be a young(ish) couple again and it was perfect. 

When I got home, I was a little overwhelmed by the emotion of missing my girl, and when I saw her I held her so tightly. I think time away made me appreciate her a little bit more. It seems to be taboo to admit that you need a break from being a parent, or sometimes just being an adult in general, but it shouldn't be. If you need a break, take one. It might be 5 minutes, 5 hours or 5 days, but it may just be long enough to give you what you need, so you shouldn't be afraid to take it! Forget other people's opinions, I did. A few people told me that leaving Poppy was a mistake and they were so wrong, it was so far from a mistake that that's laughable. She was fine for the whole week away, in fact it was like a little holiday of her own, which she clearly loved. The pictures my parents took throughout the week say it all!

I think what I am trying to say is that a bit of time away from Poppy and my 'Mummy life' was great. That's not to say I don't love my life because I do, and anyone who knows me will second that. I think when you become a Mum, it's easy to forget that you had a life pre-baby, and maybe a little trip back to that life every now and again might be really beneficial, and it might be just the break we all need!

Xx

Honeymoon is over... Time to diet!! Super Free Superspeed Soup...

We're home from Mexicooooooo!! We had the most amazing time on our honeymoon, and I have a blog coming about it, but yesterday a good friend asked me to share the recipe I use for my Slimming World Super Free Superspeed Soup, so I thought I would share the recipe here in case anyone else is interested (I know it's a bit different from my usual blog content). I used to cook this all the time when I followed Slimming World, and it really worked for me when I needed a boost with my weight loss. 

I really want to go back to Slimming World, but at the moment I just don't have the time, so I am going to follow the plan (as much as I remember) and hopefully I will be able to shift the few pounds I put on in Mexico! (Thanks, all inclusive cocktail menu!!) 

This is a suuuuuuuuper easy recipe and it's absolutely delicious!

Cooking away...

Ready to Eat... Yum!

My lovely colourful ingredients for the Super Free Speed Soup...

If I can do it... Anyone can do it!!

With the quantites below I managed to make about 8 - 9 portions, and it's freezable, which is great! When I first made this, I only had small sauce pans and woks (which are the pics above!) now I have a massive one I use for soup, so bit of advice, use a big pan!

Super Free Speed Soup

This soup is syn free on Slimming World Extra Easy Plan (or it used to be, either way, it's pretty healthy!) It's also superspeed, which means it should help to give you a boost.

How many does it serve? Makes 8 - 9 portions (or more if you are a small eater and less if you're a big eater.)

How long does it take? 30 - 45 minutes cooking time, plus prep

Is it syn free? It definitely is!

What do I need?
- 1 can mixed bean salad
- 1 can green lentils
- 2 cans chopped tomatoes
- 1 can baked beans
- 1 handful of split lentils
- 2 large leeks
- 1 large onion or 2 small - medium onions
- 4 medium carrots
- 2 parsnips
- 1 green 1 red and 1 yellow pepper
- 2 vegetable stock cubes
- salt and pepper
- mixed herbs

What do I do?
Chop and put all vegetables in a pan with the rest of the ingredients, cover and bring to boil then simmer until soft. When soft, either blend for a smooth thick soup or you can leave it chunky if that's how you'd prefer it!

Serve & enjoy the syn free goodness :)

Xx

Not every labour story is a horror story...

I've been thinking about sharing my labour story for a few months now, and I've decided I will. I have come across so many labour stories on blogs and vlogs, which I love reading and listening to; but the ones I've seen all seem to be negative, and it’s not always like that. I had a really positive experience of labour, so I wanted to put it out there. Maybe it will give people hope that not every labour story is a horror story! 

When I was pregnant, almost everyone who decided I needed to know about their labour (in detail, whether I wanted to or not) seemed to have a horror story to tell. So naturally, I was terrified. All I’d heard about was how awful labour was and about forceps, ventouse, tears and cesareans. One Born Every Minute wasn't helpful either, as their stories, albeit beautiful stories of birth, all seem to have problematic elements. The ‘easy’ labours (well, no birth is ever easy; it’s called labour for a reason) seem to feature very rarely.

My experience was the opposite of what I’d heard about, so I wanted to share it. I know I'm lucky that I had a good experience, and I am grateful for that. For the women that have had rough times, I really respect you! It's not easy anyway, let alone when things don't go smoothly.

I hope that I am able to give someone else hope that not all labours are bad!

(It’s going to be a long one, so I plan to do a video of my story too, but not for a couple of weeks, because I'm off on my honeymoooooooon!)

So here’s my story…

I went into labour on my due date, Saturday 20^th September 2014. Textbook. My contractions started at about 8:30am, but I ignored them for a few hours as I didn't know if it was labour or Braxton Hicks and I didn't want to make a fuss. It seemed too perfect, to be one of the 5% of women to go in to labour on their due date, but I did and it was happening! Excited!! About 1pm, I thought I’d better tell Steve, and he was so cute… he was excited and nervous, and looked after me really well! I spoke to the hospital a few hours later, and they were great, they said to go in to be checked over when I felt I needed to (which I eventually did at 2am!)

Steve and I spent the afternoon pottering about, then we had dinner and watched a film (The Shawshank Redemption was on TV,  great film!) I really struggled to be still, so I had to keep moving. I  couldn't lie down or sit still, I spent almost 24 hours either bouncing on a ball, walking around, or taking quick baths. But that was exactly what I had hoped for, an active labour. I hated the thought of being in a bed on my back, or having an epidural. Not that there is anything wrong with those choices or scenarios, it’s just not what I wanted.

That said, I didn't have a birth plan as such, we had a list of birth preferences. All of which were exactly that. There were things we would have preferred to do, but we completely understood if things needed to change to ensure the safe delivery of our baby. I didn't want a plan, because then I couldn't be upset if things had to stray from it. My piece of paper with the preferences on made the midwives chuckle, as I had written an apology for any shouting or swearing at them that may occur. As it happens, I was pretty calm the whole way through.

In the very early hours of Sunday, we went to the hospital, (thank you Mum and Dad for getting out of bed to take us) where I was checked over. They said I could stay or go home for a while, so back home we went, for more bouncing on balls and wandering around, until I cried at my Mum a bit later, and we decided it was time to go back to the hospital at about 9am, and I was admitted. 

This was it. We were in hospital, and when we left, we would be parents! From here on is what I count as my 'real' labour, the 24 hours before hand was very early labour, so I don't usually count it.

I was lucky enough to be able to go to the Lucina Birth Centre at University Hospital Coventry, and it was amazing! We were the only ones there that day, and we had a huge room, with a twinkly ceiling, a pull down bed, and most importantly for me, a birth pool (although the twinkly ceiling was pretty amazing!) Steve and I were actually having a lovely time, we had music playing (mostly musical theatre, sorry Steve), I was singing along to my playlist at the top of my lungs (which the midwives enjoyed, so I'm told), we were snap-chatting our friends, we were loving life… And that’s pretty much how the whole labour went. I actually loved my labour, and had a great time. I'm not sure you’re meant to say that, but it’s the truth! 

I want to mention my midwife. Her name was Siobhan Berry and she was incredible. Everyone we dealt with was brilliant, but Siobhan was just a star. She listened to me so much, and really looked after Steve and I. I really like to know what’s happening in situations, and she kept me really well informed, without the feeling of intrusion. We were mostly left to our own devices until about 2pm, which was lovely, but at the same time I felt so well cared for, which is a really difficult balance to successfully achieve. I will be forever grateful to Siobhan for the care she gave us, and for safely delivering our beautiful Poppy to us.

I spent the next few hours in the birth pool, which was great for me and I loved it. I would massively recommend trying it if you’re able to. It’s not for everyone, but for me it both relaxed me and helped my labour to progress. A few hours in, I tried (and hated) gas and air. It made me feel suuuuuuper dizzy and all out of control, which I really didn't like, but it provided a welcome distraction. After a while I realised I was pushing, which was strange as I couldn't remember starting to push, or being told to, but all of a sudden, two midwives and a student (who was also fantastic, and will make a great midwife when she finishes her training) were in the room with us, and nobody was telling me to stop. After an hour or so pushing, at 3:12pm on Sunday 21^st September 2014 our beautiful baby girl was born, all 8lbs 14oz of her (yes, it hurt, and no I didn't tear because I went with what felt natural and didn't force anything). What was super special was that I was the first person to ever touch her as she was born in the water, and I got to lift her up into my arms for our first cuddle. I cried, of course! Steve wasn't able to cut the cord, as she was born with the cord around her neck, which is fairly common, but she was fine. So they untangled her, and took her to check over. She was so calm. Beautiful and calm. I didn't know she was a girl at this point, so Steve had a little look, told me, and I cried again! She was passed back to me and we sat in the water enjoying our first few moments together. 

After a cuddle with our little flower, she was passed over to Steve, and my heart nearly exploded. I got to look at him clearly for the first time in hours, and my love for him sky rocketed. Before having Poppy, I didn't think it was possible to love him any more than I already did, but he was incredible during labour, and that support is something I will never forget. Nothing was too much for him, he was even holding the gas and air for me at one point. Then when the midwife put Poppy in his arms it was emotion overload, and the tears came again. My world, right there. Watching him hold her and look at her with so much love is a memory I will truly treasure forever. We had had a baby, and there she was, all snuggled up with her Daddy. It was just perfect.

Delivering the placenta wasn't much fun, because after a calm half an hour, the dreaded contractions were back and I was back to pushing. But it happened naturally, without the need for an injection and was over and done with before I knew it. Then I had Poppy back in my arms for a whole two hours while we waited to see if she would latch and feed on her own. Turns out she wouldn't so I had to hand express and feed her with a teeny tiny syringe. This is another moment where the midwives were amazing. I was shattered by this point, and they were great, helping and showing me how to hand express effectively. Poppy latched when she was about 3 and a half hours old, and by 4am the next morning, she had done it a few times and I was pretty confident we had jumped the first breastfeeding hurdle, and I was right. Since that point, she been great with breastfeeding, which I'm really grateful for.

Another amazing thing about the Lucina, is that visitors can come and go as they please. After a few hours in our ‘new family bubble’, my parents, Steve’s Dad and his sister came to the hospital to meet the newest member of the family. Watching our family meet her was very special, and even more so that they got to do it all together, instead of having to allocate time to each person to visit. We were able to enjoy the new addition to our family together which was a wonderful experience.

Things weren't so great in the evening as Poppy had to spend a few hours in the neonatal unit, but she was fine, the doctors were just doing their job really well. However, that is not ‘birth’ related, and I am going to leave my story there, as I want to keep to the positive aspects of the experience. After a night in hospital, we were able to go home and our new life as a family of 3 really started. I can’t believe she’s been here for almost a whole year already. It really has flown by.

Through the whole labour,  I remember feeling independent yet supported beyond belief, which I guess is the aim of the Lucina Birth Centre. I didn't want a ‘hospital’ style birth, but wanted the security of being in a hospital, and I got exactly what I’d hoped for, and I'm so thankful I did. I couldn't have wished or planned for a better birth and never in my dreams could I have imagined I’d have a midwife as amazing as Siobhan.

I hope that my experience has shown that it is possible to have a positive birth experience, and truly enjoy it. Like I said, I had a great time, and actually enjoyed the whole thing, from start to finish, excruciating pain included. Because it was worth it. Every second was worth it for our perfect beautiful girl!

Xx

My Wedding Day... The getting ready bit!

I finally got around to editing and uploading the time lapse video from the morning of the wedding, yey! I'd have loved to have filmed the whole morning, but there's no way I could have edited a 5 hour video, so a time lapse seemed like the right move! 

I'm pretty happy with the end result. I think it's a lovely way to re-live the perfect morning we had, before the perfect afternoon and evening! (I promise I'll edit the wedding video soon too!)

I know I usually post on a Monday, but I couldn't wait to share this one. Hope you enjoy!

xx

It's all about #365happydays...

Some people love it, some people hate it, but I think it's super important to try and keep positive and happy; and in a world that is increasingly negative and pessimistic, I think it’s important to find at least one positive moment in every single day. 

A few from my first #365happydays album :)

In April 2014, I decided I was going to do the #100happydays challenge. The idea being you take a photo of a happy moment for 100 days running. Simple. I did it, and I loved it! So when I got to 100, I kept going and turned it into #365happydays, and when those finished I turned it into #365morehappydays. I’m currently on day 116 of my second year doing it, and when I finish this one I will probably do another year. Here’s why…

I found that taking a moment out of every single day to find something positive, or something that makes you smile, really helped me to maintain a positive mental attitude (it’s all about the PMA). It was VERY helpful during the many sleepless nights when Poppy was very little!! I'm a pretty cheery person anyway, but these little projects make me even happier, as I am taking time out of every day to be grateful for everything I have to be happy about. 

That’s not to say there aren’t rubbish days, there are believe me, and some of them are just plain awful. But even in those dark moments I try to find something to smile about. Maybe it’s a text from a friend, or an inspirational quote, or a silly picture from Timehop that jogs a lovely memory. Maybe it's a glass (or bottle) of wine at the end of a hard day. There is always positivity hidden somewhere, sometimes you just have to look hard to find it.

I’ve been through rough times, and I never used to have this outlook on life (something several friends will back up, sorry guys!), but after a harsh talking to one evening a few years ago, I decided to change my outlook. Everything is a choice, and I choose to be happy, and I choose to share that happiness with the people in my life.

I have found that my happiness has spread too. Some of my friends enjoyed my ‘happy days’ so much that they have messaged me to say thank you for making them smile and a couple of friends have taken on the challenge too. Yey! One lovely friend started her happy days after seeing mine to help her recovery from being unwell, and I love seeing her daily pictures!

A good friend shared something lately on Facebook, and I love it so much. It said, “If you see someone without a smile, give them yours.”

Maybe my happy days pictures help spread a smile. And that thought makes me incredibly happy!

Xx

Some from my #365morehappydays album :)

My hippie 'Let's All Love Each Other' moment... And while we're at it, let's stop competing so much!

This is something that has been on my mind since before Poppy was born, and I think it's something most (if not all) Mummies can relate to. 

Why does everything have to be a competition?

(Warning... If I seem ranty, I don't mean to, I'm just passionate about this. It comes from a good place, so please stick with it! Also, there is a tasteful picture of me breastfeeding in this blog, just in case you don't like that kind of thing.)

I (personally) get so tired of seeing posts all over social media that appear to be 'competing' over the best method of parenting. Depending on which side of the fence you sit on the topic in question; you can read an article and be left feeling great, or like you're failing. That seems unnecessary to me. 

Someone once told me that the strongest people are the ones who are found building others up, not knocking people down. I wish we could all adopt this approach instead of trying to be 'better' than someone else? Parenting is hard. Fact. There are a lot of decisions to be made, and you as a parent, make the choice that is right for your family. 

Taking a moment out to feed Poppy at the wedding :)

One of the 'discussions' (I'm not sure you can call it that) that often comes up is about breastfeeding, and boy, does it divide people. I breastfeed, always have done, and I love it; I have no plans to stop just yet. It was a choice Steve and I made, the right one for us, and I stuck with it even when it wasn't easy (down right hard is more apt). For other Mums, it might not be the right choice, and that's great for them. Everyone needs to do what is right for them, and I think we should be supporting each other wholeheartedly.

One of my closest friends had a baby not too long after me, and she knew before her beautiful girl was born that she wanted to formula feed, and she does. Good for her for being so strong and sticking to her guns; it's what works for her little family. BUT... She was made to feel like rubbish by midwives because of her choice, and I know some posts on social media have caused ill feeling for her too. Someone please tell me how this is fair, and why it's at all necessary??

That's not to say that it doesn't go the other way too. Some people say that seeing people breastfeeding makes them feel like they missed out on something. OK, I get that, but equally, the picture of your husband bottle feeding your baby makes me feel the same, but we don't need to be unkind to each other about it. I don't mean to make anyone feel bad, I just want to capture those close moments with my daughter, and share them with the people I love. There's no malice intended whatsoever. 

I'm lucky. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again. I have an amazing family and a group of friends who have been nothing but supportive through every decision we've made with regards to parenting. From co-sleeping to baby wearing, to putting Poppy with a child-minder at 9 months old so I could go back to work. And for their support, I am forever grateful!

I guess what I don't understand is why we feel the need to pick at each others choices, why can't we just appreciate the beautiful moments being shared and be happy for each other? Why does it need to be a competition? I think that no method trumps the other, and as long as our babies grow up happy and healthy, isn't that the only thing that matters?

Maybe I seem like a bit of a hippie, wanting everyone to get along and be positive, but maybe it only takes one positive outlook to start a ripple. What if we all had a positive and supportive attitude? Imagine the difference.

Xx

I got MARRIED!!

And yes, it was one of the best days of my life!

*soppy post ahead* 
That's fair warning guys... :)

On Saturday 4^th July 2015, I married my tall guy. The guy whose pet name for me is ‘dick-head’, and I love that! We are idiots together, we act like big kids, and we are always laughing. If you’d have told me 14 years ago when I met Steve that I’d end up as his wife, I’d never have believed you. We are like chalk and cheese, completely different in so many ways, and I think that’s why we work so well. We balance each other out!

The wedding was PERFECT! The week leading up to it, however, was less than ideal. I think that’s a fair way to describe it. So many things went wrong; my dress, our banns not being read and Poppy having to go to hospital, all within 4 days of each other. Looking at it retrospectively, it taught me more about being positive and to believe that things will always be OK somehow, even though at times that might seem unlikely. At the time, however, I was more of a blubbering mess than a positive little hippie!

I'm a big believer in putting positivity and good vibes out in to the universe, and in the week leading up to the wedding, I think that might have been the only thing that got me through. I’d love to say that deep down I knew it would be OK, but I’d be lying.

I could elaborate on each disaster, maybe go into great detail about what went wrong, and how horrendous I felt about it all... or I could be thankful that it all came together in the end in spite of all that went wrong. I'm going with the latter.

I AM SO LUCKY!

I got to marry the man I love, and celebrate the day with our closest family and friends (although a special few were missed!) The weather was amazing (nice and cool while we got ready, then beautifully sunny and hot for the rest of the day), the service, breakfast and reception were all perfect, and everyone had a wonderful time, so I'm told! Steve and I certainly did!

After all that went wrong in the run up,  the only thing I cared about was marrying the man I love, and starting out on our new adventure as husband and wife (how grown up does that sound?!) 

I was thankful we listened to advice from friends and stole a few moments throughout the day, just Steve and I, as it really did go so fast, and other than our 'moments' I barely saw him after the meal.

I just want to say a massive THANK YOU to everyone who came to our wedding, and an even bigger thank you to everyone who made it possible!! 

I'm a wife... Mrs. Dyne... That's me!! :) :)

Xx