Filters that reduce ‘brain clutter’ identified
I need more of these filters - clearly.
Saturday, 12 October 2013
Tuesday, 7 May 2013
Healthy Summer Grub
Summer is only a stone's throw away, so it's about time I unleash some fantastic summer recipes for you to sink your teeth into.
I stress, there's more to healthy summer recipes than just salad. If I see another iceberg lettuce, I will throw at the first person I can find. I'll throw an entire salad aisle if that person happens to be Gillian Mckeith.
Summer food has to be light, fresh, satisfying and pleasing on the eye. Say goodbye to to those stodgy winter stews, summer is coming!
I have always stood by the fact that food shouldn't be about denying yourself the things you like. I like things that are bad for me, so I like to keep the elements of the meal in and take the bad out.
If you can't cook thenyou're screwed learn! Or just get me to cook for you, for an extortionate reasonable fee.
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Method
I stress, there's more to healthy summer recipes than just salad. If I see another iceberg lettuce, I will throw at the first person I can find. I'll throw an entire salad aisle if that person happens to be Gillian Mckeith.
Summer food has to be light, fresh, satisfying and pleasing on the eye. Say goodbye to to those stodgy winter stews, summer is coming!
I have always stood by the fact that food shouldn't be about denying yourself the things you like. I like things that are bad for me, so I like to keep the elements of the meal in and take the bad out.
If you can't cook then
Chargrilled Steak with Sweet Potatoes & Salsa
Serves - 2
381 calories, 32.7g protein, 36.9g carb, 12.4g fat, 3.2g sat fat.
Prep time - 5 mins
Cook time - 25 mins
Oh yes. Quick and simple. Slightly higher on the fats compared to the recipes below, but we're making a meal with steak in half an hour. What more do you want?
Ingredients
2 small sirloin steaks, trimmed of fat.
2 tsp paprika (sweet or smoked)
1 large sweet potato cut into wedges
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
5oz/150g cherry tomatoes, quartered
1/2 red onion, chopped
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
Small bunch of coriander chopped (or parsley if you hate coriander)
Method
Cook time - 25 mins
Oh yes. Quick and simple. Slightly higher on the fats compared to the recipes below, but we're making a meal with steak in half an hour. What more do you want?
Ingredients
2 small sirloin steaks, trimmed of fat.
2 tsp paprika (sweet or smoked)
1 large sweet potato cut into wedges
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
5oz/150g cherry tomatoes, quartered
1/2 red onion, chopped
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
Small bunch of coriander chopped (or parsley if you hate coriander)
Method
- Heat the oven to 200C/fan 180C/gas 6. Rub the steak with 1 tsp of the paprika and season well. Toss the potato with half the oil and season, then roast for 25 minutes until browned and crisp.
- While they're cooking, mix the tomatoes, onion, coriander/parsley, vinegar, remaining oil and paprika in a small bowl and toss. Season.
- Griddle the steak for 2-3 minutes on each side and serve with the potatoes and the salsa.
Miso Brown Rice & Chicken Salad
Serves - 2
419 calories, 39g protein, 53g carb, 7g fat, 1g sat fat.
Prep time - 15 mins
Cook time - 30 mins
Brown rice is my secret weapon against hunger. As well as being an excellent source of fibre, it's full of magnesium and zinc.
Magnesium can regulate blood pressure, prevent cardiovascular disease, treat depression, insomnia and migraines. Zinc is vital for the immune system and can prevent hair loss. Zinc also plays an important role in overall skin health and can boost sexual health.
Brown rice is my secret weapon against hunger. As well as being an excellent source of fibre, it's full of magnesium and zinc.
Magnesium can regulate blood pressure, prevent cardiovascular disease, treat depression, insomnia and migraines. Zinc is vital for the immune system and can prevent hair loss. Zinc also plays an important role in overall skin health and can boost sexual health.
Ingredients
5oz/150g brown basmati rice (or regular brown rice)
2 skinless chicken breasts
4.5oz/140g sprouting broccoli (or regular broccoli)
4 spring onions, cut into diagonal slices
1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds
Dressing
2 tsp miso paste
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp mirin
1 tsp grated ginger
Method
- Cook the rice, then drain and keep warm. While it's cooking, place the chicken breasts into a pan of boiling water so they are completely covered. Boil for 1 min, then turn off the heat, place a lid on and let sit for 15 mins. When cooked through, cut into slices.
- Boil the broccoli until tender. Drain, rinse under cold water to stop the cooking process and drain again.
- For the dressing, mix the miso, rice vinegar, mirin and ginger together.
- Divide the rice between two plates and scatter over the spring onions and sesame seeds. Place the broccoli and chicken slices on top. To finish, drizzle over the dressing.
Oven Baked Fish & Chips
Serves - 4
366 calories, 32g protein, 43g carb, 4g fat, 1g sat fat.
Prep time - 15 mins
Cook time - 40 mins
I'm not the biggest fish fan in the world, especially where bones are concerned. I either buy "boneless" (bones may still remain) or ask your fishmonger to remove them for you (more reliable deboning, and usually a more of a reliable sourced produce than supermarkets)
I'm not the biggest fish fan in the world, especially where bones are concerned. I either buy "boneless" (bones may still remain) or ask your fishmonger to remove them for you (more reliable deboning, and usually a more of a reliable sourced produce than supermarkets)
Ingredients
Nearly 2lbs/880g floury potato (maris piper or king edward) scrubbed and cut into chips
2 tbsp olive oil
50g fresh breadcrumbs
Zest of 1 lemon
2 tbsp chopped flat leaved parsley
4 x 5oz/140g thick white fish fillets
7oz/200g cherry tomatoes.
Method
- Heat oven to 220C/200C fan/gas 7. Pat chips dry on kitchen paper, then lay in a single layer on a large baking tray. Drizzle with half the olive oil and season with salt. Cook for 40 mins, turning after 20 mins, so they cook evenly.
- Mix the breadcrumbs with the lemon zest and parsley, then season well. Top the fish evenly with the breadcrumb mixture, then drizzle with the remaining oil. Put in a roasting tin with the cherry tomatoes, then bake in the oven for the final 10 mins of the chips' cooking time.
Easy Chicken Kebabs
Serves - 8
165 calories, 17g protein, 5.9g fat, 1.2g sat fat.
Prep time - 15 mins & 2 hours marinade
Cook time - 30 mins
These kebabs are a must when looking for a sugar fix. The marinade combined with the natural sweetness that comes from caramelising the vegetables certainly satisfies the craving. (Soak the skewers in water while the chicken is marinading to prevent burning)
These kebabs are a must when looking for a sugar fix. The marinade combined with the natural sweetness that comes from caramelising the vegetables certainly satisfies the craving. (Soak the skewers in water while the chicken is marinading to prevent burning)
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Ingredients
23oz/650g chicken breast fillets
2 courgettes
1 red pepper
1 red onion
For the marinade
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 tbsp of five spice
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp clear honey
Method
- Cut chicken into chunks and place in a bowl with marinade ingredients. Chill for 2 hours.
- Thread chicken and veg pieces onto 8 kebab sticks. Cook on a BBQ or in a preheated oven 200C/190C fan/Gas 6 for 25-30 mins.
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Anxiety & Depression - The Nice Part
Little did I know that moving back to Enstone was going to be the beginning of my new life.
Throughout my teenage years, I had an obsessive, repetitive, compulsive, almost pathological fear of turning into my Mum.
Moving back home gave me the sudden realisation that I was indeed going down the same route as my mother. A cold sweat covered me from top to toe, and I started shaking. After the shaking came an uncontrollable feeling of anger. After the anger and the demolition of my bedroom came tears. After the tears, I got straight on the bus to Oxford (45 mins duration) and went to the Jobcentre. I didn't die, I didn't throw up, I didn't even have a panic attack.
I can remember getting off the bus with an overwhelming sense of achievement. The buzz was unreal. The first thing I had to do when I walked in the door was to tell my mum. She didn't look as proud as I had imagined she would. If anything, she looked a bit pissed off. I mentally told her topiss the fuck off go away, and marched back to my bedroom, where I remained until mum called me for dinner.
The years went by, my independence grew, I was taking more risks, and I was in control of my depression. I'm not saying that I never had a panic attack during those years, I did. It was how I dealt with them that changed. I had to retrain my brain not to fear the panic attack, because that would be enough to trigger one. Once I could go about my day without fearing the fear, I had to learn to deal with my panic attacks in a controlled way.
I was travelling to all sorts of places with work related things. After buses came trains, then I got a car!
I can't expect to live the rest of my life without feeling anxiety, but I know that if I do, then I have all the ammo and experience to deal with it.
That's it.
I'm 25, and a completely normal person in society*twitch*.
Thank you for reading.
Throughout my teenage years, I had an obsessive, repetitive, compulsive, almost pathological fear of turning into my Mum.
Moving back home gave me the sudden realisation that I was indeed going down the same route as my mother. A cold sweat covered me from top to toe, and I started shaking. After the shaking came an uncontrollable feeling of anger. After the anger and the demolition of my bedroom came tears. After the tears, I got straight on the bus to Oxford (45 mins duration) and went to the Jobcentre. I didn't die, I didn't throw up, I didn't even have a panic attack.
I can remember getting off the bus with an overwhelming sense of achievement. The buzz was unreal. The first thing I had to do when I walked in the door was to tell my mum. She didn't look as proud as I had imagined she would. If anything, she looked a bit pissed off. I mentally told her to
The years went by, my independence grew, I was taking more risks, and I was in control of my depression. I'm not saying that I never had a panic attack during those years, I did. It was how I dealt with them that changed. I had to retrain my brain not to fear the panic attack, because that would be enough to trigger one. Once I could go about my day without fearing the fear, I had to learn to deal with my panic attacks in a controlled way.
- Breathing Techniques - I took up yoga to help me learn the correct way to breathe. That sounds ridiculous, but it's true. I also looked ridiculous, but most of the time we all had our eyes closed, so we couldn't see each other.
- Mental Ear-bashing - When I felt like I was going to have a wobble, I'd give myself a good telling off. I'd say things like, "Come on, you're like everybody else." or "You're not going to die, have a sit down and rummage through your bag or something."
I was travelling to all sorts of places with work related things. After buses came trains, then I got a car!
I can't expect to live the rest of my life without feeling anxiety, but I know that if I do, then I have all the ammo and experience to deal with it.
That's it.
I'm 25, and a completely normal person in society
Thank you for reading.
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Anxiety & Depression
Near enough everybody, at somepoint in their life, will experience some sort of depression and/or anxiety. It may impact their life quite profusely, whereas some people might just see it as a temporary inconvenience.
My first memories of depression and anxiety started when I was 10, and I got a diagnosis at 14. At such a young age, symptoms can easily be mistaken for "terrible teens".
I grew up with my Mum, a single mother who suffered from terrible depression and awful anxiety herself. Agoraphobia had crippled her life from a young age, and I grew up thinking that staying away from social situations/public transport/outdoors was normal behaviour. It was only when I started Secondary school, I knew that this behaviour was not normal.
I was shy, really shy, just like my mum. I would only speak when spoken to, and would keep myself to myself at all costs. I was relatively "normal" to a few close friends that I had, but I knew that I was very different to them in some way.
Age 11-12 I grew as a person. I had become more outgoing, my sense of humour flourished, and I enjoyed school. I look back on these years with a warm feeling in my heart.
At 13, things started breaking down at home. My Mum had drinking "issues" and couldn't take me to the dentist, or the doctor. The thought of going to these places on my own had filled me with so much fear. The resentment directed towards my Mum started here. I wanted to know why she couldn't do these things with me. I tried talking to her, but I would get snapped at, and the conversation would grind to a halt.
I was so angry as to why I was "turning into my Mum". I tried fighting it, but the more I fought, the more fear would overcome me. There were times where I would wake up on a school morning in a cold sweat and a headache, and leaving the house was just NOT going to happen.
I started missing school days here and there, and I was a wreck. I slept during the day, and was wide awake during the night. At that point in time, I didn't care what people thought of me, I hated the world, I hated myself, and I took it out everything that I hated.
I find it very difficult to put into words the reasons why I self harmed. I was in control of the pain that I was giving myself, and it was the control I lacked so much in my life. I enjoyed the routine of cutting myself, cleaning myself up, and bandaging all the wounds. It was comforting.
People started noticing the scars on my body at school, and I would get teased. I was lucky that I never got "bullied" in the sense that people weren't nasty to me. I suspect this was mainly because I was called "Psycho" at school. I don't blame them for calling my Psycho - I used to go out of my way to freak the boys out by stabbing myself with a compas. Quite funny looking back at it now.. no it's not funny.
By GCSE time, I was rarely at school. I had a home tutor, who I told to f
I saw a child psychologist, who was as much use as a condom in a nunnery. I could talk for England about my problems, I just wanted the answers. I was given all sorts of antidepressants over the months, a lot of them gave me horrible side effects like hallucinations. I remember one hallucination in particular, everytime I moved my eyeballs, I saw spiders in the corner of my eye!
It turned out I had to find the answers myself.
At 16 I decided to leave my cosy village in Oxfordshire, to move in with my 25 year old boyfriend in Tottenham, and to stop my meds! At the time, it was the best idea I ever had. I thought throwing myself into the deep end was the answer. I spent 3 months there, only leaving the house twice on my own, and that was a minute walk to the shop where I would be overcome with panic attacks.
I didn't revise for English Literature, and got a C. I did half the coursework for English Language and got a D. I did half the Maths exam and got a D, and I went through the Science exam in 5 minutes and got a C C. I got my results while I was in Tottenham. I cried for a solid hour. After an hour, I realised how well I had done, for doing so little. That was a comfort.
Getting a D for English Language.. HA, I'm a writer. I don't put that on my CV btw.
I had reached 17, and the fun was about to begin!
Part 2 to come.. How I fixed myself.
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Jobs
Jobs from working experience onwards
Care Home Assistant
I think you have to be made of special stuff to become a good care home assistant, and I have the utmost respect for them. I am not made of that aforementioned special stuff, and I don't do vomit.
Website Designer
I very much enjoyed the 8 weeks I spent working as a website designer. It was very unfortunate that I was asked to work overtime and got felt up by the boss against my will.
Petrol Station Assistant
Only lasted about 6 hours. An old drunk man shouted at me, and I cried. Never going to let that happen again.
Sexual Health Clinic Assistant
Best-job-ever! I enjoyed every single second working in that cramped, smelly, and diseased building. There was something so intensely satisfying about lecturing informing uneducated adults. I learnt one thing while working in the clinic: don't initiate eye contact while swabbing jap's eyes.
Waitress
On my first night I had a complaint from a customer about her food. The cheese in her ploughman's lunch was mouldy. I wasn't sure how to deal with the situation, so I asked the man in charge, and he told me to fob her off and say that the cheese was meant to be that way. I apologised to the woman, got her a replacement, walked out, and never went back.
Ghostwriter
Got paid to write about food, and somebody else got the credit for it. Easy money.
Comedy Writer
I wrote some top notch stuff, and somebody else got the credit for it. Wait.. what? (Feel free to ask me about this)
Thursday, 27 December 2012
Motherhood: Part 3 - Summary (part 1)
A round-up to the present day.
The day Lily was released from Special Care to stay with me in the ward was the day Oxford had an earthquake! I remember drifting off and I noticed that the television bolted to the wall was swaying, and the bed was shaking. I thought I was having a funny turn and just went to sleep, only to wake up in the morning to be told that it was an earthquake. I wondered if it was a bad omen suggesting I was going to have a shaky entry into motherhood.
The day Lily was discharged from hospital I was warned that she would have some developmental delay because of the extent of her brain damage, but they couldn't tell me what she would or would not be able to do. I just wanted her home. I do not have to vocabulary to explain how much I hate hospitals, although it was most likely the only place I could get away with my hygiene OCD.
Lily was a well behaved newborn. She fed well, for the first month she had her last feed at 11pm, woke up at 4am for a feed, then up at 8 for breakfast. At 5 weeks she slept through the night.
She had no noticeable problems apart from colic, but I couldn't complain. The health visitor noticed that she was lacking muscle tone, and that she was severely floppy. I HATED the health visitor. It felt like I was always being watched, was always being asked questions like I was expected to fuck something up.
The truth was that I was sitting on a massive problem, and was lying through my teeth to everyone.
By 8 weeks old, I still hadn't bonded with Lily. I didn't even feel like a mum. I had my duty to make sure Lily was kept healthy and happy, and that was it. I would watch other mums, and I could see the love in their eyes for their children. It made me sick. What was wrong with me?
I'm not going into details about the relationship with Lily's Dad, but that broke down during the end of the pregnancy.
I felt completely alone, I was caring for a baby I couldn't bond with, and I had no idea what kind of future she would have.
The health visitor gave me a questionnaire to fill out asking me "How I was feeling." It was an obvious attempt to try to detect any symptoms of postnatal depression. In complete fear of having Lily taken away from me, I lied and said everything was peachy.
I started finding it difficult to get up in the morning. I didn't want to wake up, I didn't want to eat, I didn't even want to leave the house in case people started asking me about Lily, and how she still couldn't hold her head up by herself at 4 months old. I'd have to say, "I don't know why". I felt like everything was my fault, and I was ashamed of myself. I couldn't even birth a child without extensive medical intervention.
At 6 months old, a physiotherapist was called in to help Lily with her physical problems. She was finally able to sit up at 10 months old. (In contrast, Leah walked at 10 months old!)
So time went by, and we plodded along.
More issues with Lily's development arose as she got older. By 2 years old, Lily still couldn't walk. She couldn't even stand up or crawl. She would have physio every fortnight.
Lily's speech was very limited. By 2 years old she would only mutter a few words, so a speech therapist saw her every 2 weeks.
Leah arrived when Lily was just over 2.
I felt really guilty when Leah came along. I had such a strong bond with Leah from the moment she was born. Leah ate well, slept through the night at 8 weeks old, never had colic, and was generally an early developer. I could feel my chest ache out of pride when Leah would walk up to me and steal my sandwich.
As a result of the guilt, I spent more time with Lily than I did with Leah to try and compensate.
We did lots of speech exercises together, which she enjoyed, and physio exercises which she despised, but I had to play doctor and push her as hard as she would let me.
The turning point in our relationship came when Lily was 2 1/4 and had to have an MRI scan on her brain under general anaesthetic. The doctors needed to see how much damage to her brain was present and if it could be attributing to her speech delay.
I walked her into the anaesthetist's room feeling very little fear. Maybe I was putting on a brave face? I was annoyed at myself that I could fear such an everyday procedure.
I held Lily as she was put to sleep. One second she was awake and stiff. The next second she was heavy and limp, with her eyes half open, and I put her onto the bed. The last 2 years flashed before my eyes to the moment of her birth where she was heavy, limp, and her eyes were open. I couldn't hold it in any longer.
I burst into tears as I tried to leave the room as fast as I could. It wasn't that I didn't love her, I did. I just didn't want to admit I did. I feared for her future every day. I thought if I could distance myself from her, then it wouldn't hurt as much.
That day I admitted I loved her. As Lily was wheeled into the ward still fast asleep, I looked at her innocent face and hoped she knew I loved her.
The results of the MRI was a miracle. Lily's brain had completely regenerated.
... more to come!
The day Lily was released from Special Care to stay with me in the ward was the day Oxford had an earthquake! I remember drifting off and I noticed that the television bolted to the wall was swaying, and the bed was shaking. I thought I was having a funny turn and just went to sleep, only to wake up in the morning to be told that it was an earthquake. I wondered if it was a bad omen suggesting I was going to have a shaky entry into motherhood.
The day Lily was discharged from hospital I was warned that she would have some developmental delay because of the extent of her brain damage, but they couldn't tell me what she would or would not be able to do. I just wanted her home. I do not have to vocabulary to explain how much I hate hospitals, although it was most likely the only place I could get away with my hygiene OCD.
Lily was a well behaved newborn. She fed well, for the first month she had her last feed at 11pm, woke up at 4am for a feed, then up at 8 for breakfast. At 5 weeks she slept through the night.
She had no noticeable problems apart from colic, but I couldn't complain. The health visitor noticed that she was lacking muscle tone, and that she was severely floppy. I HATED the health visitor. It felt like I was always being watched, was always being asked questions like I was expected to fuck something up.
The truth was that I was sitting on a massive problem, and was lying through my teeth to everyone.
By 8 weeks old, I still hadn't bonded with Lily. I didn't even feel like a mum. I had my duty to make sure Lily was kept healthy and happy, and that was it. I would watch other mums, and I could see the love in their eyes for their children. It made me sick. What was wrong with me?
I'm not going into details about the relationship with Lily's Dad, but that broke down during the end of the pregnancy.
I felt completely alone, I was caring for a baby I couldn't bond with, and I had no idea what kind of future she would have.
The health visitor gave me a questionnaire to fill out asking me "How I was feeling." It was an obvious attempt to try to detect any symptoms of postnatal depression. In complete fear of having Lily taken away from me, I lied and said everything was peachy.
I started finding it difficult to get up in the morning. I didn't want to wake up, I didn't want to eat, I didn't even want to leave the house in case people started asking me about Lily, and how she still couldn't hold her head up by herself at 4 months old. I'd have to say, "I don't know why". I felt like everything was my fault, and I was ashamed of myself. I couldn't even birth a child without extensive medical intervention.
At 6 months old, a physiotherapist was called in to help Lily with her physical problems. She was finally able to sit up at 10 months old. (In contrast, Leah walked at 10 months old!)
So time went by, and we plodded along.
More issues with Lily's development arose as she got older. By 2 years old, Lily still couldn't walk. She couldn't even stand up or crawl. She would have physio every fortnight.
Lily's speech was very limited. By 2 years old she would only mutter a few words, so a speech therapist saw her every 2 weeks.
Leah arrived when Lily was just over 2.
I felt really guilty when Leah came along. I had such a strong bond with Leah from the moment she was born. Leah ate well, slept through the night at 8 weeks old, never had colic, and was generally an early developer. I could feel my chest ache out of pride when Leah would walk up to me and steal my sandwich.
As a result of the guilt, I spent more time with Lily than I did with Leah to try and compensate.
We did lots of speech exercises together, which she enjoyed, and physio exercises which she despised, but I had to play doctor and push her as hard as she would let me.
The turning point in our relationship came when Lily was 2 1/4 and had to have an MRI scan on her brain under general anaesthetic. The doctors needed to see how much damage to her brain was present and if it could be attributing to her speech delay.
I walked her into the anaesthetist's room feeling very little fear. Maybe I was putting on a brave face? I was annoyed at myself that I could fear such an everyday procedure.
I held Lily as she was put to sleep. One second she was awake and stiff. The next second she was heavy and limp, with her eyes half open, and I put her onto the bed. The last 2 years flashed before my eyes to the moment of her birth where she was heavy, limp, and her eyes were open. I couldn't hold it in any longer.
I burst into tears as I tried to leave the room as fast as I could. It wasn't that I didn't love her, I did. I just didn't want to admit I did. I feared for her future every day. I thought if I could distance myself from her, then it wouldn't hurt as much.
That day I admitted I loved her. As Lily was wheeled into the ward still fast asleep, I looked at her innocent face and hoped she knew I loved her.
The results of the MRI was a miracle. Lily's brain had completely regenerated.
... more to come!
Saturday, 22 December 2012
Motherhood: Part 2 - Leah
As some of you may not realise, Lily isn't Paul's daughter. They met each other when Lily was 11 months old.
For anybody with fertility issues, getting involved in a new relationship can be a little awkward when the subject turns to the future. I had to let Paul know my experience with Lily very early on into our relationship in case he decided to.. let's just say - leg it.
I have two older half brothers, and one younger half brother, but grew up as an only child. The age gaps between myself and my siblings range from 14 years to 9 years, so I never knew what it was like to "grow" up with them. I wanted different for Lily.
Paul and I decided fairly quickly that we wanted to have a child. Deep down, I didn't think that I'd be able to conceive another child and carry it to full term. I didn't think I'd conceive, so I didn't even think about what could happen during labour!
First cycle. WOAH NELLY!
Well that was easy.
It turns out that in a lot of cases of Endometriosis, pregnancy can "blow out the cobwebs" as such. Well thanks for the warning docs!
The pregnancy went well, apart from the SPD returning, and passing out in Morrisons.
This baby was here to stay. The fear set in quite quickly as the midwives kept asking me if I'd had made a birth plan. I simply refused to write a birth plan, I didn't see the point, I felt like it would only lead to disappointment.
This birth was NOT going to be like the first. I kept on telling myself that it just could not happen. No way. Never. I wasn't going to let it happen. It was going to be natural, I would have no pain relief, and nobody was going to die.
3 days 'till my due date, I thought I'd get off my large bottom and have a long walk. It was painful just moving from one side of the room to the other, but as I knew very well, movement would bring the baby's head into position ready for birth.
When I got back I was knackered. I was feeling twinges in my tummy, but that could've been a number of things - wind, constipation, squished bowels.
Paul would've been back from work any minute, so I set Lily up with a couple of toys, and had a nap on the sofa for an hour. I woke up to feel more twinges, a bit more painful. We had dinner, and went to bed.
It was 3am. I couldn't get to sleep. Paul was snoring. I was having regular pains. Everytime I had a pain I looked at my phone. They were every 10 minutes. Suspicious.
I tried waking Paul up, I told him that I thought I was in labour. He replied with, "Well tell me when you need to go in." Charming.
They started coming every 8 minutes and were picking up in pain. I elbowed Paul in the ribs and told him we had to phone the hospital and go in.
I hobbled into the car, and we made the half an hour journey to the John Radcliffe Hospital.
My heart sank as I walked up the corridor I had walked up before. My blood ran cold as we walked past my previous room.
Things were starting to really hurt, but the contractions were getting further apart, and I was only 2 and a half cms dilated, so not officially in established labour. I took an instant dislike to the midwife that was on duty at the time. She seemed very cold.
Thankfully a new midwife came on duty, followed by a student midwife and a med student.
Paul fell asleep in a chair.
The student midwife was a quiet, but smiley lady. She went through my birth plan with me, and understood all my reasons why I wanted it to be completely natural. She gave me a heated wheat bag to put on my back, as that was where most of my pain was. It smelt awful like Sugarpuffs, and I can't stand Sugarpuffs. I was also given a warm bowl of water to put my feet in as I rocked back and fourth in my rocking chair.
She asked me if I would like to try some aromatherapy to help me through labour. Why not?! I thought.
I was given dots of frankincense to put on my wrists. This is was supposed to be calming and to help me focus. It smelt amazing, and helped the anxious nausea I was experiencing.
5am - The contractions were really coming thick and fast. I breathed, and breathed, and breathed some more. Holy cow they were horrible. Some random midwife came in and asked me if I would like some drugs. NO! I said. She put the gas and air pipe on the bed "Just in case."
Paul woke up. Probably not by choice. I was moaning like a trooper.
8:15am - Contractions were back to back, lasting 20 seconds each. I knew I was on the final stretch. The pain was becoming unbearable! I already knew I had done so well to get this far without pain relief, but I was close to reaching for that gas and air.
I was on the bed squatting up and down over the head of the bed roaring in pain, begging to be checked as I knew I nearing the time I had never experienced before.
I turned onto my back, and I had to push. All of a sudden everything went quiet. I felt a surge of adrenaline rocket through my veins and I knew exactly what I had to do. The contractions became painless, and I went into a trance, a phenomenon that my midwife had only seen twice before.
I felt pressure, like a bowling ball being stuck somewhere it should never be stuck! I pushed for the first time. The pressure intensified. I pushed for the second time and I felt a burning sensation. The head was born! The med student giggled as the baby's head was wriggling around.
One last push, and tada! The baby was born. It was placed on my chest where I could rub it with towels, and I took a look at the face. It opened it's eyes and it looked at me. I was suddenly engulfed with love and joy.
It was a girl!
I had requested that the umbilical cord was to be left to stop pulsating before cutting, as it let the blood in it return into the baby - the natural way. When it was time to cut it, Paul refused. So I did it!
I also delivered the placenta in a drug free way.
Leah was extremely healthy, she had apgar scores of 10/10/10 - PERFECTION. She started breast feeding within an hour, and very much enjoyed her food.
Thankfully being so small only left me with a tiny graze down below, so the repairs that had to be done with Lily had gone untouched. Phew!
After an hour of cuddles, I got up, had a shower, and we were ready to settle down into a ward.
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I did it naturally, I did it my way, and I've never been so proud of myself.
.. Motherhood: Part 3 - coming soon.
For anybody with fertility issues, getting involved in a new relationship can be a little awkward when the subject turns to the future. I had to let Paul know my experience with Lily very early on into our relationship in case he decided to.. let's just say - leg it.
I have two older half brothers, and one younger half brother, but grew up as an only child. The age gaps between myself and my siblings range from 14 years to 9 years, so I never knew what it was like to "grow" up with them. I wanted different for Lily.
Paul and I decided fairly quickly that we wanted to have a child. Deep down, I didn't think that I'd be able to conceive another child and carry it to full term. I didn't think I'd conceive, so I didn't even think about what could happen during labour!
First cycle. WOAH NELLY!
It turns out that in a lot of cases of Endometriosis, pregnancy can "blow out the cobwebs" as such. Well thanks for the warning docs!
The pregnancy went well, apart from the SPD returning, and passing out in Morrisons.
This birth was NOT going to be like the first. I kept on telling myself that it just could not happen. No way. Never. I wasn't going to let it happen. It was going to be natural, I would have no pain relief, and nobody was going to die.
3 days 'till my due date, I thought I'd get off my large bottom and have a long walk. It was painful just moving from one side of the room to the other, but as I knew very well, movement would bring the baby's head into position ready for birth.
When I got back I was knackered. I was feeling twinges in my tummy, but that could've been a number of things - wind, constipation, squished bowels.
Paul would've been back from work any minute, so I set Lily up with a couple of toys, and had a nap on the sofa for an hour. I woke up to feel more twinges, a bit more painful. We had dinner, and went to bed.
It was 3am. I couldn't get to sleep. Paul was snoring. I was having regular pains. Everytime I had a pain I looked at my phone. They were every 10 minutes. Suspicious.
I tried waking Paul up, I told him that I thought I was in labour. He replied with, "Well tell me when you need to go in." Charming.
They started coming every 8 minutes and were picking up in pain. I elbowed Paul in the ribs and told him we had to phone the hospital and go in.
I hobbled into the car, and we made the half an hour journey to the John Radcliffe Hospital.
My heart sank as I walked up the corridor I had walked up before. My blood ran cold as we walked past my previous room.
Things were starting to really hurt, but the contractions were getting further apart, and I was only 2 and a half cms dilated, so not officially in established labour. I took an instant dislike to the midwife that was on duty at the time. She seemed very cold.
Thankfully a new midwife came on duty, followed by a student midwife and a med student.
Paul fell asleep in a chair.
The student midwife was a quiet, but smiley lady. She went through my birth plan with me, and understood all my reasons why I wanted it to be completely natural. She gave me a heated wheat bag to put on my back, as that was where most of my pain was. It smelt awful like Sugarpuffs, and I can't stand Sugarpuffs. I was also given a warm bowl of water to put my feet in as I rocked back and fourth in my rocking chair.
She asked me if I would like to try some aromatherapy to help me through labour. Why not?! I thought.
I was given dots of frankincense to put on my wrists. This is was supposed to be calming and to help me focus. It smelt amazing, and helped the anxious nausea I was experiencing.
5am - The contractions were really coming thick and fast. I breathed, and breathed, and breathed some more. Holy cow they were horrible. Some random midwife came in and asked me if I would like some drugs. NO! I said. She put the gas and air pipe on the bed "Just in case."
Paul woke up. Probably not by choice. I was moaning like a trooper.
8:15am - Contractions were back to back, lasting 20 seconds each. I knew I was on the final stretch. The pain was becoming unbearable! I already knew I had done so well to get this far without pain relief, but I was close to reaching for that gas and air.
I was on the bed squatting up and down over the head of the bed roaring in pain, begging to be checked as I knew I nearing the time I had never experienced before.
I turned onto my back, and I had to push. All of a sudden everything went quiet. I felt a surge of adrenaline rocket through my veins and I knew exactly what I had to do. The contractions became painless, and I went into a trance, a phenomenon that my midwife had only seen twice before.
I felt pressure, like a bowling ball being stuck somewhere it should never be stuck! I pushed for the first time. The pressure intensified. I pushed for the second time and I felt a burning sensation. The head was born! The med student giggled as the baby's head was wriggling around.
One last push, and tada! The baby was born. It was placed on my chest where I could rub it with towels, and I took a look at the face. It opened it's eyes and it looked at me. I was suddenly engulfed with love and joy.
It was a girl!
I had requested that the umbilical cord was to be left to stop pulsating before cutting, as it let the blood in it return into the baby - the natural way. When it was time to cut it, Paul refused. So I did it!
I also delivered the placenta in a drug free way.
Leah was extremely healthy, she had apgar scores of 10/10/10 - PERFECTION. She started breast feeding within an hour, and very much enjoyed her food.
Thankfully being so small only left me with a tiny graze down below, so the repairs that had to be done with Lily had gone untouched. Phew!
After an hour of cuddles, I got up, had a shower, and we were ready to settle down into a ward.
.jpg)
I did it naturally, I did it my way, and I've never been so proud of myself.
.. Motherhood: Part 3 - coming soon.
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