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...