Pink or Blue?

I was delighted this week when a close friend of mine announced she was pregnant after years of trying.  She was soon round for a cuppa, completely glowing, to show me her scan pictures... me? broody? never! *cheeky smiles*

She asked me what my advice would be about knowing the sex of the baby, a decision she needed to make before her next scan.

I felt proud, I could finally impart wisdom and experience on a friend who, older than myself, I had always looked up to as a big sister.  She had always guided, advised (and mainly teased) me growing up, but now, I could help her.

I hadn't wanted to find out if we were having a pink or blue bundle at first, or a burger or sausage as I've heard some refer to it as (yuck). I had always imagined the moment would be a surprise. James, on the other hand, couldn't wait to find out, to give our little bean an identity before even meeting them.

So, one of the happiest moments of my life happened at my 18 week scan, still in Australia, we found out, we were having a daughter. I was over the moon.  Don't get me wrong, I would have been happy either way, as long as baby was healthy, but wow, a little girl, I was so excited.

I told my friend how we found that discovering the sex allowed us to bond with Belle even more. We named her, bought girls clothes for her, decorated her nursery (pink rosebuds, very girlie). It also helped James feel more connected with her, he could see her as a little girl not just a 'bean'. I've always thought that women become mothers from the moment they know they are pregnant, it's nature, where as it must be so much harder for men to feel that bond, we found that knowing her sex really helped.

So that was my advice (the first bit of 'grown up' advice I had ever imparted) but what would you have said? Did you find out you were having a boy or a girl? Are you glad you found out or did you regret it? I'd love to know...








  

The 'baby birthing warrior' that wasn't

DIY daddy

30 weeks and nesting

30 weeks pregnant... nursery decorated, baby shower attended, pram purchased... next on the list, antenatal classes.

We attended NCT classes. I went in with no preconceptions or preparations, birth plan, what was that? I left feeling like a baby birthing warrior, sent on this earth just to give birth, a baby delivering super hero if you will. Hospitals? Doctors? Pain relief? Who needed that stuff? My body is built for this, I'm young, I should be doing this naturally.

My mind was made up, NO pain relief, NO doctors, I would have Belle at the midwife led unit in our local hospital.  

I was woken on the morning of the 26th June with major pains. I'd experienced small pains the day before, but this was it, she was coming.

After 8 hours of ball bouncing, deep breathing and bath soaking at home we decided, contractions 2 minutes apart, we were close.

After observation I was told I'd have an examination but they felt I was about 8cms from the strength and times of my contractions.  The birthing warrior inside me was overjoyed. I was so proud. I had done this, got this far, all by myself, as nature had intended.

The examination commenced...1/2cm...1/2cm dilated! I can not even begin to describe the heart aching disappointment I felt that second. But my inner birthing warrior was still present, so I continued, unaided, for 8 more long hours.

My waters still hadn't broken so they decided to break them for me after several uneventful examinations, I was still only around 4cms. I will never, ever forget the look on James' face when she did.  Shock, horror and disbelief all rolled into a reassuring smile, I knew him, I knew something was wrong.

I was rushed into the delivery suite quicker than I could say 'baby delivering super hero', from that second the birthing warrior was no more, it was taken out of my control.

Belle had been in distress, so we were hooked up to a heart monitor as the pain started to become unbearable. She was back to back in position.  More agonising hours passed and gas and air became my friend. More hours went by. Faces looked worried. More doctors appeared. A needle was used in several places. The heart monitor was making noises. The inner birthing warrior had turned into the frighted, 25 year old girl I truly was. In the mirror I could see the numbers on the heart monitor... dropping, dropping, getting higher, dropping again. The faces got more worried and panic filled the air. James was amazing and did his best to reassure me, but all I could see were those worried faces.

It was decided, I needed a c-section. I was heartbroken. I had watched so many births after my classes in preparation for this magical moment, birthing my first child. I got a grip, it needed to happen. At least I could still see her, still have skin to skin with her straight away, feel her against me the moment she is was out. James was sent to get scrubbed up.

I was alone, without my rock. Suddenly the faces changed from worry and concern to complete fear as the monitor made different noises. A piece of paper was shoved under my nose, I was asked to sign it. The comforting soundtrack that had been my daughters heartbeat was removed and within seconds I was being wheeled away, silence. James hadn't even come back into the room, we passed him in the corridor.

It was the silence, I couldn't hear her any more. It was worrying hearing the ups and downs but the silence, hearing nothing at all, I thought they had run out of time. I remember thinking 'wheel me quicker, hurry up!'

Face to the ceiling I could see people entering the room, lots of people. I closed my eyes. I sensed a doctor over me, I don't know what he said, but within moments I was gone.

4 hours later I woke up, and there she was in her daddy's arms, wrapped in a pink blanket. She was Isobelle Rose that day, later changed to Belle Rose. My daughter, my perfect, beautiful daughter.

We were one of only 6% of mothers and babies that suffer from a short umbilical cord. We were told that she had gone as far as she could have and was therefore in such distress as I tried to push her further.

But all was well, apart from a slight misshapen head, she was perfect.

In hospital still with Daddy

And so we were home, a new family, but why was I feeling guilt? Why was I feeling as though I had missed out?  I beat myself up about not delivering her 'properly' and was angery with myself that I had missed out on those first 4 hours, they had been taken away from me.


With time, the guilt surpassed, and I enjoyed being a first time mummy. The anger turned into joy, pride and thankfulness.  I was so lucky and honoured to have a healthy, beautiful baby, however she was delivered, it didn't matter.


I do wish I hadn't put so much pressure on myself to have 'a normal' birth. I shouldn't have been so insistent  on something that is so unpredictable. External pressures on first time mums are immense, every birth, baby, and pregnancy are different, there shouldn't be so much pressure to do any of it a certain way. I get angry when I hear people in the media talk about c-sections as -'the easy option' and the notion of  'too posh to push', some of us just didn't get the choice.    






























  

Time for exercise as a working mum - your joking right?

I did warn you about the pretty girls

Before Belle my idea of exercise was the calories I burnt in my skyscraper heels, dancing on a Saturday night, glass of wine in hand.  I had joined, not attended, and promptly cancelled, many a gym membership in my time as dinner and TV always seemed the better option, well... Eastenders was on!

Now, I need to exercise!  After having Belle by emergency c-section my tummy said bye bye flatness hello lumpy bumpy!  Not to mention the damage my love of chocolate Hob Nobs during pregnancy did to my thighs.

The thought of going to a gym, surrounded by fit, young, pre baby bodies scared me to death.  So once I got over my c-section I pulled out an old exercise DVD.  It's called 'Pump it up, hi-energy'.  Now, don't let the high energy bit fool you, I only do one section of this DVD a morning.  It takes 15 mins to do the section called 'tone it up' and let me tell you, tone it up it does!  Mr Mummy Bean is very happy.

I do the DVD after Belle has had her breakfast and she sits in her Bumbo and loves watching mummy make a fool of herself.  Then, after 15 mins, job done and I can get on with the rest of the day without thinking about exercise.  I also find by doing it in the morning it makes me not want to eat the naughty things (did I say my love of chocolate Hob Nob's was just a pregnancy thing...? woops)

I figure that I burn enough calories carrying 19lbs of baby up and down the stairs everyday to bother with the whole DVD, and living in a three storey town house, that's a lot of stairs.  Let alone all the aeroplane, swinging and lifting games.  Being a mummy is exercise enough, which is my excuse for skipping straight to the tone it up section, it's just a pain when a certain little bean has hidden the remote control.

I have in no way been asked or paid to promote this DVD, it's like 100 years old, but I would recommend it.  There are some very pretty girls doing the exercises half naked but I just pretend it's a mirror :)

The wonders of being a freelance working mummy

5 months pregnant in Sydney

I spent this morning being interviewed on film about becoming an entrepreneur and a working mummy, apparently I'm a great case study for both :)

You see I set my marketing freelance service up when Belle was 10 weeks old.  After that short time I knew I didn't want to go back to work full time but knew I needed to work. We fell pregnant whilst living in Australia so I had to leave my job there as a Marketing and Sponsorship Executive and wasn't entitled to maternity pay from the Government when we got home as we had been out of the country too long (don't get me started, I'll tell you about that another time)  So... www.themarketingbean.co.uk was born and I have been taking on freelance work from home ever since.

But how do you juggle work and baby...?  Be organised!  Be upfront! and ask for help when you need it!

Whilst being interviewed today I realised what a great position I am in.  I'm upfront with my clients, they know I have Belle full time and that she comes first.  Therefore I get the best of both worlds, the ability to organise my week around Sure Start classes and play dates whilst still actively using my business skills and contributing to the household, UK economy and wedding dress fund (Vera Wang in my dreams!)

I am lucky and if I have meetings to go to, or days I need to be at events both Belle's nannies can help out, or James will schedule time off when he can. But, for the majority, I work around Belle so I can enjoy her and we can spend time together.

Setting up your own business may sound scary and doing so with a 10 week old baby may sound pure crazy but I am so glad that I did and would encourage any new mum to do the same.  Being your own boss is a great way to ensure you spend as much time as you want with your little one.  It works for me, and maybe it can work for you too!

I don't think working mums get enough good press.  People shouldn't make us feel guilty that we are not with our children 24/7.  Children acquire great social skills whilst attending nurseries and day cares and flourish by having a happy and contented working mummy.  So here's to us!

I would love to hear your working mum stories.  Do you work full time?  Do you feel guilty about being a working mum?

Watch this space for a sneak peak of the film I was featured in today.