The Big B’s

Were 3 months in and what a journey, it’s taken me till now to start finding the words to share our feeding journey, it’s also taking me 3 months to firmly accept where we are with it all and how feeding looks for us. I never realised the enormity of it all and pre pregnant me would have always said ‘if he needs a bottle then I am fine with that’ even looking at that statement makes me cringe as that’s where the root of the problem starts, I am already having to defend feeding with a bottle, why wouldn’t I be fine with that? Fed is fed right, after the years of trying to conceive the last thing I would chance was not feeding my baby, seems your head does crazy things when your placed in a challenging position where you feel you should be enough. 

Let’s roll back the years to 2006, when my boobs were HUGE and I made the decision to undergo breast reduction surgery i was informed the risk to breast feeding was there but as shared previously babies were the last thing on my mind. Therefore, when falling pregnant I always knew I may not be able to breastfeed, I told myself I was okay with that and stocked up on some bottles and pre-made formula to take in my bag. If the boobs didn’t work then at least the bottle was ready, i did however have some small hope as I had been showing signs of colostrum on my nipples, however I still told myself I was okay if it didn’t work for us, my midwife didn’t seem worried either so why would we. 

I have since found out I should have been referred to the specialist feeding workers for support in preparation to Albie being born. 

My labour was long, that’s for another blog but an element that’s important was my labour resulted in a c section, I am told a c section can interfere with breast feeding. I am also IVF and have been going through IVF for a number of years, meaning a hell of a lot of drugs have been pumped through my body, which again can cause problems in breast feeding and then to top it all off, I had my boobs lopped off, my nipples removed and stitched back on and more than likely my milk ducts damaged, so all in all things were looking bleak.

Albie came along with a hell of a bang, labour was traumatic, I was on a lot of drugs and my jaw was constantly heading west, meaning my brain was all over the place. When Albie went to latch the first thing I said was ‘are we allowed, Sam go ask the midwife’ to which my husband did and the lovely Rhian came and helped us latch him on and guess what, he fed, I wish I remember more of this feed but sadly I don’t, I have a photo and a blurry memory but what I do remember is something came out and they were happy with how he was feeding. This carried on into the night and the next day, we were checked a few times, and all seemed well, he was feeding, I was in shock and in all honesty wasn’t finding it too difficult. 

On day 3 the midwife came out, weighed him and he had gone down 13%, babies generally lose weight but it’s normally 10% max, as we had tipped over it resulted in lots of hospital appointments, harsh conversation and general frustration. The next 4 weeks turned into hell, and sadly gave us a very negative and unenjoyable first few weeks with Albie, we didn’t understand what we were doing wrong, we were doing what they asked but Albie still seemed so upset and cried a lot. We knew it wasn’t wind, reflux, colic and we were feeding him what we were being told but still had an unsatisfied babe. 

The clinic had us topping Albie up with formula, at first, they wanted him topped up with breast milk, however there wasn’t enough coming out in a feed so to try and express was just draining what there was in there. The top up’s we had to give in these sippy cups which were so awful and are used with premature babies, Albie was frustrated with them and we were stressed when trying to feed him. We were giving one ‘schedule’ by the midwife, which was then scrapped by the feeding specialist, which then changed when we were giving an appointment with another woman, by week 3 we had been giving 3 different ‘schedules’ to feed our babe but a still had a very sad unhappy baby. All 3 of us were breaking, and had no idea what to do, who to listen to or what was best, we also didn’t understand what was happening and how to make it right. 

When I read this back now, I scream at myself ‘HE WAS HUNGRY’ but at that point, when in the midst of it all I couldn’t work that out, maybe there was an element of ignorance, selfishness or dam right stupidity but when it actually came down to it what I realised was I didn’t want his main feed to be from a bottle, I wanted to feed my baby, I wanted to be what he needed, his nourishment, his drink, what helped him grow, I didn’t want formula to be that, I even asked Sam to call it his other milk as the word formula broke me, I felt I had failed and that word reminded me of that. 

The day I knew it needed to change was when he screamed, he screamed so much, and I cried, I asked him not to cry, I begged him not to and he carried on. My Mum turned up and held us both, she asked me what I felt was wrong, I again shared I didn’t know, we were doing what the clinic was telling us but he still wasn’t happy, mother hen made me look at a number of different things, we talked, we wrote lists, we narrowed it down, we thought fuck the clinic and I made him a bottle, a big bottle and together we fed him and he stopped crying, he nestled in and he was happy, he just needed a big feed, his tummy needed to be full and sadly however hard it was to admit I hadn’t been filling him up. 

From there we attended the clinic again and we told them OUR plan, we wanted to combine feed, they weren’t clapping for us but were supportive if that was our decision. 

Combined feeding hasn’t worked exactly for us, but I am still booby feeding or as I call it booby snacking, it’s comfort for me and him and although there isn’t much in there there’s something for him to enjoy. Combined feeding has allowed me to have time and space, since having Albie my mental health has been like a wave and it’s not having Albie that has done that but the pressure, medical treatment and unwarranted stress that has been put on me though out our whole fertility journey. By combi feeding Sam can take over, he can feed our babe and I can do what I need to do to look after me, I reflected a lot when I struggled with the bottle and started to realise when I was happy, he was, the bottle allowed that. 

I also have thought a lot about the pressure placed on women to feed, I see myself giving reasoning for why I bottle feed, explaining why I have made this choice, I then see I become part of the problem by being ashamed, I am now trying to be more proud and an advocate of bottle feeding and the benefits it can give. When did we as women become so less invaluable in this journey, motherhood is already hard enough without this other pressure, as a friend said ‘isn’t breast feeding just another way to shout women down’ powerful hey? I totally agree, if we don’t feel the guilt enough then isn’t breast vs bottle just another load right onto us. 

I am 3 months into this journey now and I am proud of myself, I feel the journey of boobing will soon end and I will be sad as I do enjoy this calm feed at night, but my babe loves to sleep and due to that he misses the night time snack out. I have giving him what he needs though, and he is deciding when he wants to stop, and I will be okay with that as overall, I know I have done the best I can for him. 

It took a while for me to bottle feed Albie out in public, I still don’t love it but I am better at it now, I still see judgement in others eyes but I sit tall and remember I am doing what I need to keep my baby alive and isn’t that the most important part in this whole feeding journey.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

As we come near to the 6wk mark of Albie I finally understand what others  have said around 6wks feeling more manageable and there's definitely been a shift and change in how I am coping, crying and behaving. My labour and birth story is for another blog, when it's time and when I am ready, for now this blog is to process, focus and put some rambles down of how it's been and how unprepared I was for the emotional shift on my energy.

I haven't been diagnosed with depression but I know I have lows that can be very intense, I manage them, I have worked with them and been through years of therapy to understand them, since meeting Sam, my nest builder they haven't been as frequent, even through IVF he helped me manage those left field turns and always guided me back. As I have mentioned many times, Socks, our wonderful greyhound was also an instrumental part of keeping me well, due to these lows being so little over the last few years I never expected to feel anything but joy when Albie arrived. We had been trying for him for years and years, I had put my body through numerous rounds of IVF, medication and stress to have him, he was so wanted, of course joy was all I would feel. However how wrong I was, when I think I know myself, having a baby defiantly teaches you a lot more. 

To start with Albie was 10 days over, 12 days by the time he came earth side, my labour was intense, powerful and traumatic, we then had feeding issues due to past surgery, ivf drugs and c section, meaning the first few weeks with a newborn and the mix of the above was not plain sailing. It's a 6 week recovery period from c section, I had 0 hours, I was high as a kite due to the long labour, had suddenly gone through major surgery and was then passed a baby. 

We came home and the masses descended, family wanted a bit of this beautiful boy, we wanted them there but it didn't stop and when all I wanted was to be alone, I wasn't allowed as I needed to care for my boy and smile at the cooing everyone was giving him. 

The continuous questions of how is he feeding, are you breastfeeding, how was the labour, does he sleep, the expectations of what you should answer, what are people wanting to hear as I knew they didn't want the whole gory truth, that's a conversation stopper right there. These questions put extra strain, pressure and stress on me, I know people didn't mean to but I was vulnerable and being bombarded with powerful questions I wasn't in a place to manage.

When the question around a 2nd child came that was the truth blower. NO FUCKING WAY. The idea of doing all of the last few years again, it astonished me people would even ask, it's like think before you say something and also my child is 2 days old! 

What I had never realised was the expectation on myself, labour, feeding and being a new mum. The loss of Sam and I, who we were, the freedom of our life and our dogs this teeny being requiring everything from us. I cried a river those first few weeks at the loss of us, me and my life before Albie. I didn't for one not want him but I did at times want what I had back and realised the life we had built was great, this is the next adventure but at that moment I couldn't see to the end of the day, never mind a van holiday/festival fun. 

I don't want to label what I was feeling, who knows what it was extreme baby blues, post natal depression, one of my lows, newborn struggles, a sense of failure in feeding, mum guilt, loss, selfishness, maybe all of these things but I knew my brain wasn't right and I needed to tell someone.

Sam had started to work it out, he was calm, patient and went above and beyond to support me, even when at times being firmer may have helped him. My Mum quickly sussed and wrapped her love around me and helped me see what would help and what didn't. Mum allowed me to take back what I needed from this continuous assessment from health professionals around me and Albie's weight. I started to be more open and honest with myself and when I did that, things began to change, the fog lifted and I took control over how I fed Albie and ultimately cared for him.

No one tells you about weight checks, bleeding for 6weeks, possible injections for 6wks, pain that felt like bricks weighing me down, hormones and tears that are so powerful they take over, checks done by health professionals on the worst days of 'baby blues', the input of others and feeling like my baby wasn't my own, varying information and feeling like you have to stick with the line. My confidence was knocked but when I started to believe and trust in myself and my ability as a Mum I started to take it back and motherhood became more bearable and more joyful.

No one can share the honest truth as everyone's experiences is their own but one thing's for sure is nothing prepared me for what hit me, without the support in place and having people around it may have lasted longer, I cry every few days now rather than four times a day, however I am learning about myself, my boy, my husband and my dogs, we all have needs to be met at this new time and were slowly working them out together.

What I did start to realise was a sense of relief, it was all over, no more ivf, no more fertility questions, no more tears when others fell pregnant, no more pain and suffering around will we have a baby, he was here and this challenging period of fertility was now over. Some of those river tears I cried I believe were the sense of relief I didn't have to do any of that anymore.

and no, were not having anymore. 

Those in between days!

I chose to end work 4 weeks to my due date, that was 1 weeks holiday and 3 weeks maternity, i had so many lovely plans with friends, family and baby bits to do that i felt it was the perfect amount of time for me. The reason for this was that i had a due date and obviously my baby was going to come before that! OH NO!

So we have two due dates, only us! The one the Centre of Life gave us and the one the Midwife gave us, we went with the Midwife one as it was the earlier date (obviously) it seems that's been and gone and still no babe, so we have moved to the next date! Due dates are something we look for and are given as part of the pregnancy journey, when really there picked from guestimations of dates, i was convinced ours would be more certain as were IVF, therefore the dates are pretty spot on. I did wonder if with this egg being frozen for a good few months would make a difference, and who knows, just like the due date, we won't know which is the correct date, which i guess is babies in general, constantly working out what's next and what feels right, up and down days, but attempting to stay positive and focused.

A friend text today the mantra i needed to hear 'my baby will come, when my baby is ready' the power in those words shifted my thinking and made me go yep baby sure will. I have tried all the old wives tales, more than once, i have walked and walked and walked and felt pressure like no other but still nothing and i have today accepted that's fine, as babe is just not ready yet. We have made some decisions of what feels right for our next steps for that little one inside, my mental well being and Sam's sanity and feel a nice suited plan for us 3 is being put in place. We also have our lovely dog walker on standby for picking up our fur babies so keeping her up to date and ensuring the pooches are cared for is a priority also. You get to a point where for me i have to make plans and see people as being in the house drives me mad, even more so with the Summer sun beaming down, so this week is about seeing friends, enjoying time where i can talk and hear their news and enjoying sunshine on my face and cake in mouth, thanking babe for giving me more space and time to catch up with important friends and take pleasure in the company and support they give.

There's still things for me to do here, i am putting a list together today and if things get done, great, if they don't they will at some point, but it's important to remember what feels right for me as if i am unhappy surely my baby will feel that, it also feels important to let the emotions i have pass, talk openly about them with Sam and friends and learn what feels right. It's such a huge process i am going through and i am definitely learning at every stage.

The waiting game especially leading up to that due date feels a game of trickery the body is vamping up, it's doing things i don't understand and making me feel every night labour may start, but it doesn't and the next day i wake up and start again, listening to what she, this body of mine wants me to know, what feels good and what doesn't but that soon something will happen and i will know, preparation is what i feel i am being giving in these waiting days and i am slowly holding on and making the most of it.

Maternal Healthcare - What did it look like for you?

It's been a strange process being in a 'system' of healthcare, monitoring, recording and ticking boxes. I have never realised the full impact of the 'pregnancy system' now i am sailing to the end of this journey i reflect on how let down i feel by the care I have been offered and being offered.

Since starting this fertility journey in 2015, I have attended more appointments then i can count and have been let down, disappointed and frustrated by so many inputs that have felt 'unhuman' at such a 'human' time. I don't want this blog to be a bashing of health professionals as wow there are some amazing one's out there, but what is interesting is the de humanisation jobs become for some and the impact that then has on the people accessing it.

The IVF process was mind blowing to us, we didn't know what to expect, we didn't know we had choices and we went with what was giving to us as we were so lost in a world of unknown. After every loss, explanations were brief and information was shared that wasn't helpful or didn't make sense. I remember one appointment being informed my miscarriage was a 'chemical miscarriage' so wasn't classed as a 'proper' miscarriage. For someone falling pregnant any loss is a loss, and to be informed that from a health professional was a huge blow. This same professional informed me my surgery properly wasn't the reason I had falling pregnant, again taking away any hope I had mustered up. It's strange the way people feel they need to say this stuff, sometimes some things are better left unsaid. It was from these appointments I started to learn more about my body and really connect with what was going on with it. I started to engage in the clinic in the way I needed too but use research as a tool to how i could support myself, something I wrote more about that here How to try and grow a baby!- I knew I was choosing to be in this healthcare system as we were committed and knew the help was what we needed however I chose to challenge and do what felt was best for me, which helped me feel I was taking control of what was happening and contesting anything that I didn't agree or believe.

I find as i talk to others, they feel worried or scared about doing this, going against the system of care we should be grateful for and yes i am but actually taking a step back, this is my body and my mental health and shouldn't i be looking after myself in all this?.

When falling pregnant we moved into the next 'system', we were quickly discharged from the clinic which felt scary as although they had challenged us in some unhealthy ways there was a weird safety developed through those appointments and that medical care. We had a scan at 7 weeks and found a peanut sized baby and a beating heart, from there it was to the doctors and the 'normal' maternal care. I was so excited and nervous for that first appointment, however was sadly disappointed as my midwife was tired, informed me of this, became quite stressed at the computer and paid no attention to us being an IVF pregnancy and any worries I held around this. Maybe there was a lack of education, maybe there was no need to be worried or maybe I just wanted more nurture and care at a time I was so happy but so incredibly nervous.

I left that appointment sad, let down and the excitement i thought i would feel dissipated quickly.

A number of years back I decided I wanted to be a midwife, I wanted to specialise in substance misuse or young people and felt I had the skills and care that could be offered in this role. I sadly wasn't accepted (due to my maths GCSE) however now look back and realise the medical side would have challenged me as what I have learnt and seen is that it is very medical in a lot of ways. I feel I can see a new branch of care coming through from the students I have worked with, maybe that's a varying approach or maybe it's new blood in the job, whatever it has that care has felt warm and supportive, however there still seems a set of procedures to tick and boxes to fill.

One of the things I have learnt in this long journey is what my needs are and what I want from this pregnancy, I have learnt from friends about their experiences and this has allowed me to make informed decisions about what I want and what feels right for me and my baby.

I don't agree we should have to just 'get on with it' as that's what it's always been like, how many times do we hear, well you didn't have that choice years ago, did you not or where we all just too scared to go against a system of care that develops fear and anxiety within us.

With being an IVF pregnancy they like to induce you at 40wks (your due date), I knew induction wasn't something I wanted (if it could be avoided), I therefore knew I would go to 42wks before this decision needed to be made. The NHS guidelines are now at 41wks, however only moved from 42 a few years back. Induction was first discussed with me very early on, my midwife didn't give me enough solid information to make me feel it was something that was necessary so I chose that I would refuse the 40wk induction. I am also part of a North East birthing group and enquired on this, finding out the risk was possibly around women over 40. I was then asked if I would like to be booked in at 41wks, which I refused and finally agreed at 42wks, with a statement of 'maternal choice' written down in my notes. What makes me frustrated around all this is the essence induction is discussed so early, like it's become a standard way of birthing, yes it is needed at times but do we need to be introducing into conversation so early?

Then there's the graph, the graph of anxiety, the graph that every women whatever shape or size you are, you have to stay on the graph and if you don't well it's time to head to hospital for another scan (bearing in mind this is all measured with a tape measure). I understand every doctors surgery can't have fancy scanning machines but that line needs to lend a little. Which I guess is why I am blogging as I feel the NHS system needs to become flexible with women's rights and needs around birthing.

I spoke to a friend recently and she asked if it's okay for me to have all these wants from my birth, I was astonished that in 2019 we still aren't fully informed or aware, that the birth is our birth, ours and our babies, meaning it's our choice how it happens as it's one of the most powerful experiences we will go through, it's the first journey you do together mother and child, shouldn't that therefore be your choice.

Conversations are hard and what i have learnt is that EVERYONE has an opinion, you take what you want, you chose what feels best, there's no right or wrong as it's what's right for you, but for me it feels this intrinsic sense of the NHS guidelines isn't always right and we should be encouraged to be flexible and not always feel we are harming our babies by not ticking the boxes. I drank wine throughout my pregnancy, the odd glass when i wanted it from the 2nd trimester, i ate soft cheese and runny eggs. I went to gigs, i walked miles and miles in Scotland on holiday, i taught yoga from day dot, i carried things around, i slowed down when my body told me too but i lived my life the way it felt right. I chose not to tell my midwife as i told her one thing and the concern on her face made me stop instantly. It's what's right for you and none of the above maybe but for me i knew what my body needed/wanted and what made me happy and surely if i am happy my baby is.

I feel lucky to be educated through friends and my own reading, I have taken a lot from instagram accounts such as Olivia at The Birth Rising and Emma at Mamalina around going slow, listening to your body and your birth rights. I have also been influenced by some incredible friends, by their honest sharing and empowering birth stories, there talking has allowed me direction in my own pregnancy and hopefully allowing me to make the right decision's for myself and my growing family.

How excited are you?

It's a question I keep getting asked and rightly so, why wouldn't folk, the thing we have wanted for so long is happening, am I excited though, it really is a hard question to answer.

I like to be honest, I am not one of those people who just says yes, as that's what people want to hear, so when asked if I am excited I respond with honesty and say I am not sure, worried, scared are definitely some of the feelings that feel more apt. I certainly now understand when friends have suffered from baby blues and postnatal depression why they haven't shared it, as from being pregnant there is an expectation a pregnant women should be excited.

I feel excited buying bits for baby's arrival, preparing the nest, feeling them move and thinking of the experiences were going to have together as a family. What worries me though is the change to come, this change everyone likes to tell me about from their experience. I worry about the change in my relationship with my doggies, which yes, I know will change but I feel sad that it will as these dogs have helped me survive at the hardest of times. I feel sad at the change in my relationship with Sammy, how moody I am with indigestion, peeing loads and feeling heavy, so when I am tired, sleepless and being a milking machine I know I aint going to be the best laugh in town. I have been so use to the little family I have created and the expectation of never having children that to suddenly be ready feels a bizarre and unknown feeling. I guess one I have to admit I am not sure how excited I am for.

9 months off, for some reason I won't call it maternity and make the joke of it being a sabbatical, what this is about I am not sure, but there's something deep rooted in me that doesn't want to be just a Mum and maternity leave feels so unknown to my identity it's like I can't connect fully to what's about to happen. I am definitely trying to enjoy these last few months of pregnancy, my anxieties have passed now and I do know this baby is going to arrive, however it just being my life (without work) for 9 months feels strange and scary and something I don't know how you ever prepare for.

You have an identity that changes over the years and i know mine changed when it came to fertility, now being pregnant, something won't let me forget that journey, i am proud of how far i have come and holding this pregnancy feels surreal, i am trying to be prepared for the next change, my identity will change, how can it not, i guess i just don't know how ready i am and feel sad saying goodbye to the one i have built during my fertility journey.

Anyone going through their own journey, i don't wish to not have this pregnancy, i am so overwhelmed it's happened for us, i don't want to sound selfish or ungrateful as i am not, its my own process of change i am trying to understand, and in all this change is happening all around me and i am slowing learning how to move with it.

So with 5.5wks until due date i will be going slow, moving with gentle flow and making the most of these last few weeks with my bump. Change is a coming and i am looking forward to it (just with a hint of trepidation).

Boobies!

God I love them, I always have, mostly other people's but in the last 13yrs (to be exact) my own too. I can't remember the exact age I started developing but I know it felt too soon, there's certain points in your life you remember, a booby point of mine being my Mum arguing with a women in Marks and Spencer about the size of my back and me being mortified but also knowing my Mum was doing what was right for me, plus Mum's know best and she was buying them! 

These boobs of mine started growing and basically have never stopped, at my biggest I was a HH and if I am honest at the moment, I have no idea what size I am measuring at, but I am guessing a G cup.

My boobs at times have been my greatest asset, you can't complain when you're hitting the big market at 16 (sorry Mum) and getting in places as obviously big boobs meant no id. They became my identity as I started to explore relationships with the other sex and felt a 'huge' part of who I was. I guess for me they offered me something when I wasn't the most attractive, I look back now and recognise how little I felt inside but how big on the outside. 

My view started to change about my boobs when a few things happened, from somewhere I got the nickname of a 'weeble' you know those toys that wobble back and forward but never fall down, yep that's what I was likened too. It never made sense to me as if anything I was top heavy not bottom. I remember a flatmate and her bf once putting my bra on their heads and thinking this would be funny, yeah great joke. I also remember wanting a nice top for a night out and nothing fitted, I was 18/19 and struggling to find an outfit as my massive straps were always on show, back and shoulders. There were many incidents like this but a huge change was when I started working with young people in a youth offending role and I became known as 'the worker with the massive tits' at this point I decided I needed a change and made the decision to visit my doctors. 

I recognise I am not the only women with big boobs, a huge factor for myself  was that I was a HH on the front but only a 30 on the back, hence my Mum's argument in Marksy's as they always wanted me in a 32, resulting in another failed bra purchase. This meant at the early age of 20 my back was constantly in pain and I was definitely top heavy, every bra fitter would be astonished at my back to boob size, at times I felt on show for others to see.

My doctor was fantastic, she listened, supported and sent the letter recommending a reduction, I remember that appointment like it was yesterday, my Mum came with me and supported me it was a  difficult discussion but we agreed if it was what I wanted she would be there for me. 

In 2006 at the age of 23 I underwent a bilateral breast reduction, I remember the surgeon stating on reduction he would take them to a size that would still suit my body, however there were risks a main one being breast feeding, due to the resizing of the breast and nipple the milk ducts and nerves could be cut and damaged. At 23 this was so far from my mind, feeling happier in my body was my main goal. 

The surgery went well, they removed 655 grams from each breast, and left me at a FF cup, this may still sound big but it was the extra weight that changed, my boobs now sat where they were meant to and not down at my waist. My back felt lighter and I didn't feel like I needed to wear a hammock to hold myself in. 

Sadly I did become unwell after surgery and developed an abscess in my left breast, I won't talk about this too much as I still don't regret my surgery, but the abscess left me very unwell and they way the treated the abscess was in my eyes barbaric and left extra scarring on my left breast. As you can imagine Mama bear was not happy and she sure let them know. 

My surgery didn't just change my physical body but also where I was in that time of my life, my relationship, my goals and my passions, it opened up so much with this new self confidence and new sense of self. What I realised was I had been so lost and trapped and suddenly I felt free again, free to explore, understand and connect. I did just that with a lot of up and downs but with a satisfaction I was happy and finding me.

Recently that connection with my body and these boobs has come up again due to being pregnant, I realised breast feeding was something I hope to be able to do and if I am honest, always believed I would be able too. A few months back I went into a mild state of panic realising this may be impossible and I admit I became sad, annoyed and questioned if my surgery was selfish and wrong. As always discussing it with Sammy and giving myself space to think allowed me to reflect on the obvious, this time last year a pregnancy didn't feel possible so boob or no boob my babe will still be loved and certainly fed, breast or bottle. 

This ever changing relationship we have with our bodies over various periods of our lives is constant and I know will carry on, I have had signs booby feeding maybe possible, how much who knows. I watch them change in this pregnancy and possibly take on a new role in my life but whatever we have been through there's no denying my boobs have moulded and shaped so much of me and will carry on doing so. 

I have toyed with sharing my before and after pre op photos and have made the decision not to, there impressive I tell you, but for personal and professional reasons i feel putting my boobs online isn't a great idea. In that I decided no photo's were necessary, it's the words that count and well, there my boobs that have been looked at enough! 

What's really in our control?

Do I allow myself to recognise what I have been through, still going through and how that impacts on me now. People feel this journey has ended for us, because we are now pregnant, I am a Mum now and Sam a Dad so why would we worry, haven't we got what we wanted? 

What I have to come to realise is with pregnancy there comes a whole host of worries and I think at this stage I feel more anxious now then I ever have. Of course there are days of pure magic and enjoyment but reality can really hit at times and until this baby is in my arms will I ever fully believe that I am a Mum.

I work in mental health, I know anxiety, I have always suffered with low mood off and on through my 20's but anxiety didn't hit, it creeped in when IVF started and it's a monster hard to extinguish. This week has been incredibly difficult and I had the realisation on Tuesday afternoon (when my Mum told me I looked pale) that I was feeling pale, washed out and tired. 

Since IVF started in Oct 2017 it's been go go go, that's either the pressure  around a cycle, that two week wait to see if we had conceived or moving through the process of recovery after a failed cycle but also attempting to create a life that wasn't ruled by IVF. This week I suddenly realised life wasn't ruled by injections and fertility treatment, I was now a pregnant women, working, planning and taking on her final few months before motherhood arrived, however this then led me on the next worry path of labour and breastfeeding, two things people talk to me about so much however both being something I need to think about due to the possibility of early induction being advocated and the risk of not being able to breastfeed due to me having a breast reduction when I was in my early 20's. The internet is a beauty at times but also a total bitch, it has held both these elements for me this week and I have felt myself slowly sinking into a pit of worry and uncontrollable emotion. Sammy shared last night he could see I was worried but I had to remember this time last year we didn't think we would ever have a baby so whatever happens our baby will be loved and that's what's important, not if it breastfeeds or is born through medical intervention.

It made me think, what can I control and what can't I? Something I am sat heavily with today.

How I emotionally respond to our pregnancy.

People keep telling me how excited I should be, don't get me wrong I am excited, how could I not be. I do feel I can control what comes in and what goes out, therefore I feel I can control what I take on, if it doesn't feel helpful I may not respond but that's because I haven't found being told how I should feel is helpful.

How much internet use I take on board.

I think from today I am going to disable certain apps on my phone, I do this now and again but feel I am procrastinating a lot and getting involved in a lot of spaces that may not be useful for me or my mental health at this moment. So I can control what I allow myself to be involved in on the internet and social media.

An element of my birth.

With being an IVF pregnancy it is suggested your induced at 39wks due to the risk of still birth, the information around this isn't clear and my midwife hasn't pushed it so I have decided against it as I don't believe the evidence I have read and believe it's focused more on over 40's. However if I do need to be induced this maybe out of my control, however what I can control is the environment, I plan to have essential oil's in the room, to be moving and using yoga/active birth methods and hopefully using water, my birth is totally out of my control but the environment I am in can to the best of my ability be in my control.  

Breastfeeding.

When I was younger I had boobs that were so big, my back hurt, my career was impacted and I was known as 'Claire with the massive tits'. I changed this when I had a breast reduction in my early 20's, breast feeding at the time was not on my radar and although I was told of the possible impact it wasn't important to me at this time.  I have read a lot around this on the internet and many women successfully breast feed in some way, this maybe combined feeding but they do manage to get some milk to feed. What I can't control is if I can breastfeed, I will only know this when my baby arrives, what I can control is what I do to attempt to support breast feeding, it will be hard, using expressing/pumping will become part of my daily routine after feeding (if possible) and continuous skin to skin for the first few days and holding babe to breast to help stimulate milk production (if any is coming through). It may look different to what I expected but it feels important for me and our baby and therefore I can't control what happens but can attempt to control how I support my body in enabling this happening.

How I look after myself.

I work as a Counsellor with young people impacted by domestic, sexual and historic abuse, I have realised I am taking on a lot and have plans to make some changes from the end of this month, freeing up another day a week for me, babe (and the dogs). I can look at what my weekends include and do what feels good for me, walking, resting, knitting, nature, being with good people. We have a few holidays planned which feels exciting and relaxing, I can control what I allow into my life to feel good for me and my soul.

This week has taken on a level of emotional tiredness and has hit my like a bolt out of the blue, as I write this the sun shines in through my bedroom window, women's hour plays in the background, my manager just told me to take the day to rest (when I rung into work) and my husband just text telling me he loves me. My head maybe a bit wobbly but how I move through this life is a lot in my control and writing helps me remember that.