Image: Fanny Renaud
I was catching up with friends after work yesterday. I walked out the door in the morning and thought: "eh, I'll deal with this when I get back. At least they aren't coming here." And at the last minute, location changed. To my place!
Ever feel like you're one tiny, shitty thing away from breaking? I talk a lot about feeling "on edge" in the online program and about how to learn to feel your emotions to alleviate some of that build-up. But this is a practice after so many years of being conditioned to believe that emotions are scary and uncomfortable. Well, they can still be those things. But we cannot forget our own skills and strength.
This is one woman's story.
Image: Sven Brandsma
I've linked some books as affiliate links within this article. If you purchase via these, The Postnatal Project receives a small commission at no extra cost to you. How awesome!
I’ve offered to share my experience with night weaning our second child. I hope it can offer some peer support during a very bittersweet time.
On one hand, we don’t want our babies to grow up. On the other, it’s been years now and sleeping in weird positions with one boob out and we’re feeling okay with that changing - even slightly.
Did anyone see this poem by Annie Ridout?!
"I've just had a baby -
Ahhh, beliefs and expectations. They make us who we are. They are so important. But did you know that you have the power to explore and shift these expectations and beliefs when they no longer serve you?
Welcome to the August edition of The Postnatal Project Q&A. Here, I answer two questions a month related to parenting, sleep, breastfeeding, postnatal depression and everything in between. If you'd like your question answered, get in touch via the contact page.
I told myself I wouldn't neglect the blog again - but I most definitely have. And it's mainly because my day at the moment looks a little like this:
- Up at 5am after being up all night
- Daddy takes small child for breakfast and play while I sleep until 7:20am (yes, 7:20am. I have worked out the EXACT time I need to get up)
- Back on duty at 7:30am
- Breakfast while the boobie monster feeds from me. I do my best not to drop cereal and yoghurt on her head but I make no promises
- The day progresses in a normal fashion of snack times, nap times, play times, adventures, babychinos, various mundane chores that keep everyone clothed, fed and organised, sitting down is criminal
- Daddy gets home at 5pm
- Dinner. Or, more-so, cooking dinner that we eat cold and the small child does not eat. We offer various alternatives which usually end up being avocado and raspberries (there could be worse things I suppose)
- Shower with daddy
- Settling for bed with mummy (which involves about 50 thousand breastfeeds, going to the toilet 17 times and a Riff Raff Sleep Toy called Bandit)
- I want to have a cup of tea, I want a snack, I want to read a book - but I'm too damn tired. I scroll Instagram while I brush my teeth and hop into bed ready for round 2 - the hardest round.