DAY 1 – Love is a “Super Power”

Mum Stuff

What a wild ride birth was. The most intense and yet incredible experience I’ll likely ever have and one I already dream about having again; yet don’t think I will.

Born a 3:05am on Wednesday the 29th of January 2020 little Maverick came into our lives and has already left the biggest impression on our hearts. I honestly didn’t know how I could possibly love anymore after Isaac and my heart has shown me yet again what it is capable of; which is much more than I ever give it credit for.

We are buggered! Mylo is currently napping in my bed for what could be one minute or two hours depending on the needs of our new babe and I.  No one’s really sure but he will take what he can get  and I am on the biggest euphoric high, reclining in the chair in the corner of the hospital room getting very distracted from typing to stare at our littlest bundle.

But I needed to write, I needed to take these thoughts and feelings permanently out of my head before I forget them because as I learnt from my precious babe number one, the only thing that is certain is change and that change happens so fast. I never want to forget these feelings in these moments because they will never be again.

I’ve decided that love is in fact a “Super Power”. A power that we all possess, yet if we don’t learn to channel it and use it regularly, constantly even, we will more than likely never experience it’s true ability to transform our lives.

Children have the most amazing way of showing us and being to us exactly what we need to learn in the way of love without us even knowing that we needed it or realising that we were their students in the first place.

If only we could do for one another what we would do for our offspring the world would be such a wonderful place. Although I guess on the flipside of that, “hell hath no fury like that of a mother protecting her young” so I can see how it can turn sour pretty quickly. But what if we remembered that the fury we were directing was towards someone else’s child who many not have received the same love that we are showering on our own. What if we realised that possibly the very behaviours that are triggering extreme emotions in ourselves are actually just cries for help and desperation to experience connection and the person exhibiting them can sense that you could give it to them but they don’t know how to ask.

We are a funny little species, the human race, and how our unmet needs manifest into behaviours is downright bizarre sometimes if you ask me, but I pray that we would be able to use our “Super Power” to respond positively and heal each other rather than use is as a weapon against each other. I’m sure I’m way too tired to really think this through based on how my hands are shaking on the keyboard as I’m typing and I’m micro-napping every now and then but I believe the key to this, our “Super Power”, is by giving it unconditionally. The moment we remove, limit, restrict our love due to not liking or understanding the interactions and behaviours we are having and witnessing  with another our love becomes conditional and we lose all the “Super” out of the “Power” making it just a normal battle where really, there is no winner. By choosing to be unconditional regardless of the other party we soar above it all and we all win in the end. It may not look like a traditional victory but both of us would leave the situation forever changed for the better.

I’m not going to fight this next micro-nap, let’s ponder this more later.



There’s a sweet pea in my belly…


And so here we are… filled with joy, butterflies and a touch of fear of the unknown.


We somehow managed to conceive a baby whilst I was still weaning Isaac and yet to gain my cycle back. Mylo and I were just two kids rediscovering life and each other once their little boy had finally decided to sleep through the night and then next minute BOOM we’re “knocked up”. It took us a considerable amount of time to work this out given that we

  1. Weren’t trying so it wasn’t on our radar…..and
  2. I didn’t have a cycle so we had nothing to tip us off that this might be the case.

One Monday morning I took a trip to the doctor to ask some questions around why I had recently been vomiting, feeling rather faint and my vagina was on fire!!! I had taken a pregnancy test the night before (so kindly gifted to me at Bambi’s baby shower) and it was negative so I assured her I wasn’t pregnant. Firstly, she informed me I had thrush which having only ever had it once before (when on antibiotics) I was confused because this was like I’d sprinkled chilli flakes down there not all weird white discharge. Anyhoo, she assured me that this was easily fixed with a tablet and that we should run some blood work to ensure I was in good nick for when the time did come for us to try and conceive again. She told me that until six months had passed we wouldn’t be going down the “infertility path”. These words horrified me because thus far on this parenthood journey we have been incredibly blessed, albeit one miscarriage, but still so incredibly blessed with our ability to conceive with ease. Having had so many friends that for one reason or another had struggled to conceive and to have their bodies hold onto the baby I knew it was much more common than people often thought and not off the cards. Perhaps watching so closely and being involved in some cases as dear friends lived out their days of infertility had left me with an absolute sense of knowing for what may lie ahead and it was not a path I wanted to go down.  I left the doctor that day hurriedly as Isaac “linked it” in the surgery I had no referral for blood work, a flaming “hoo-ha” and a deflated heart at the notion of potentially facing an uphill climb to bring Isaac a sibling.

All those emotions are to be unpacked at another time but for now on with the story.

I took the tablet and my bits did not recover, they were still on fire and I was not happy. Sunday night rolled around and I couldn’t even tell you why but I did another pregnancy test. The fainest, pink line you’ve ever seen showed up on that stick. So faint I kept thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. I looked, looked away, looked again, squinted, held it close, held it far, moved to better light, used a spotlight, went to less light. It seemed to still be there…

The morning came and I woke to my usual alarm clock of Isaac at around 6am. I didn’t wee. We got ready and went out for our morning coffee and on the way stopped at woollies waiting not so patiently for them to open, I was busting and I was anxious. I bought a pregnancy test and went straight to the public toilets and peed on that stick. An incredibly strong pink line appeared almost instantly.

We went to coffee that morning with our usual dates Mara and Isla and life seemed normal. I went to the doctor to finish the appointment from the week previous which as we know had ended in mass evacuation due to the ticking time bomb known as Bam detonating. I walked in the door and said, “I’m pregnant” to which she swiftly responded, “I told you so”. What I heard next wasn’t my greatest moment. “Sit tight for a bit because the tablet you took last week can cause miscarriage and so we want to make sure it’s out of your system before we get too far ahead of ourselves”. This pregnancy was by no means unwanted, unexpected? Yes, but not unwanted. I instantly felt so disappointed and guilty that I might cause myself to go through what I had already endured previously. I felt for my heart, how heavy it would feel, how painfully it would ache and for my body, to have to experience something that yes is only natural yet still taxing, and for it to be not of natural causes but of my own interference.

I had a blood test to try and work out how pregnant I was and so that we could take a referral to the hospital. That afternoon the doctor called and said “you’re somewhere between two and five weeks pregnant but I am erring on the side of two. Get through the next seven days and assuming all is well then come in and we will organise ultrasounds and get this ball rolling”. This confused the hell out of me as given my recent fire crotch episode, which as it turns out is caused by being pregnant, Mylo and I hadn’t had sex for two weeks.

I told Mylo that afternoon by dressing Bam in a onesie which said “BIG BROTHER BAM” on it. He said “where did you get that from? What does it say? What does that mean? WHAT? HOW? Well this is sooner than expected!” His reaction was about on point for how left field this was for us and yet I burst into tears anyways (pregnancy hormones???) Not sure what I expected his reaction to be honestly, I feel like in that moment there wouldn’t have been a right one. I had been desperate to tell him all day and there was so much build up for me that the come down was rough haha and this poor guy was on the receiving end of that.

Sport training was on for the other kids and dinner needed to be made so “on with the show” and we would talk about it later. One of the many differences between first and second babies that I was yet to discover.

Mylo called me from the car at AFL training and said, “babe obviously I’m excited that we are having another baby, I just didn’t expect it to be this soon, the odds were not in our favour but I should have known this would happen based on how easily it’s happened before. Don’t be upset, I love you, I just need to process it all, we will talk tonight in bed”.


We talked and it was wonderful and we would sit tight until we knew the external factors for miscarriage had passed.

The week went by and I was still with child, relief flooded my body and I started to accept that this was real. I feel like I wasn’t investing in it until we survived that week for the obvious reason of protecting my heart.

We booked an ultrasound to find out how far along we were and I booked it for later rather than earlier given that if we went too early the little tacker would be too small to detect and get a heart beat on. So off we went some time later (what I thought was seven weeks) and low and behold there the little rascal was, just hanging out at the dayspa, staying all warm and snuggly. “Nine and a half weeks” they said, “you’re due Australia Day”.

Ok, so further along than we expected but that was excellent news because I felt like I’d been keeping this secret far too long already. A few people knew because I was already well and truly vomiting and off food but for the most part it was on the down low.

This did make more sense as to when we quarantined my hoo-ha though so all seemed well in the world.

So there you have it, I’m having a baby which will make our babies roughly nineteen months apart. We had planned on about a two year gap, although I would have been happy to try once I got the all clear at six weeks postpartum (crazy I know). I don’t know when would have been a good time to try again if it was a conscious decision because once you have a child, forever more life is more difficult to coordinate and quite literally the thought of fitting more in is thoroughly overwhelming. In saying that we are absolutely wrapped at the idea and reality that Bam will have a sibling and are beyond stoked with our latest little creation busily growing away inside of me.


So here’s to the next chapter in the “Fun Field Days” ahead of us and to the adventures they will bring. I can’t wait to share it with you all along the way. The ups, the downs, the good the bad, the happy, the sad. I’ll share it all because that’s what I do, and to be honest I can’t wait!!!


Mum Stuff

This kid lights up my whole world and I am eternally grateful for him. I would say the last 11 months have been nothing short of a spectacular whirlwind and yet suddenly in the last few weeks things have shifted into what is clearly the next season of our life together. It’s a little too early to call it but we are nearly through the “worst of it” so to speak and it’s now I find myself struggling.

What does life look like now my sweet babe doesn’t need me 24/7?

What is my purpose in life beyond the wonderful one of being a mum?

Could I manage to maintain our home front if I was to return to work?

So many mums have navigated all of this and more before me and so for this reason alone I know that the dust will settle and we will find our groove again but that doesn’t change the feelings that wash over you during the turbulence.

I remember a few months ago thinking that every day was so full with people, catch ups, tasks and yet seemingly overnight I feel like everyone has gone on about their lives and we suddenly have nothing on EVER. (Dramatic Licence Exercised Wildly)

It’s like we hopped off the life train to live out the wonderful season of raising a baby and as you would expect, everyone else kept on going. Now we are getting ready to hop back on and I feel like the train is going faster, people have moved carriages, the timetable has changed and stations are different. I almost feel like it’s the first day of school and I need someone to hold my hand as I take my first steps back into the school yard.

It’s no one’s fault that things are like this, everyone has a family or a career or particular goals that they are focused on and it’s not through lack of want that they aren’t around but rather for the exact same reason that I am where I am. The momentum doesn’t ever slow and if you take your eyes off the prize you might just fall off the treadmill. I’ve done it myself, desperately wanted to help a friend who needed a babysitter, a meal, a tea and a chat and just not been able to offer any help because my resources are at capacity.

Now this is not a “woe is me” attempt but I promised that I would only write about the real things that are happening and the real feelings that are going on and right now this is what that looks like. It is only a small part of a whole big picture that makes up our lives but it is thoughts that I am pondering on currently and so I shall share them.

Friends and I have resorted to delayed and random texts at odd times to let each other know we are thinking of them, birthdays get forgotten, dinners have become lunches and lunches have become tag team meal eating and a thousand half conversations. The amount of grace being exercised for each other is tremendous and thank god for it because otherwise relationships would not survive.

I’m nervous of what work will look like for me now and how best to transition Isaac into day care as I never want to let him go but at the same time can feel that I am needing a little more stimulation for me as a grown woman in my week. I don’t know how to find time to work on my own projects, they always seem to fall to the back burner to every other task around the house and after more than 12 months of not working other than a little bit of freelance stuff we need me to jump back on the horse a couple of days a week which means even less time.

Now like I said many have survived this before me and so I know I will also but that doesn’t remove the fact that change is hard. I feel more comfortable in my role as a mum than ever but the relationship between Bam and I is so fluid currently as his immediate dependency levels decrease what feels like every day. They’re moving from necessity to want and that is both lovely and devastating. When it’s your most important purpose followed closely to being a wife and you feel like you’re becoming redundant it’s a little humbling.

I’m sure in the next month or so all will be revealed and I am so so thankful that I have had this time with Isaac because we will never get it again.

My dear friends; If I have missed things, appeared absent, fallen short in any way I apologise. I am doing the very best I know how to right now and I guess at the end of the day that is all I can do. Here’s to the next adventure and beyond and I cannot wait to see where the path takes us next.

Love always,

Kel xxx


9 Months In. 9 Months Out

Mum Stuff

Well isn’t this an absolute treat for us all. If you’ve already seen my Instagram account you would have had you’re eyes treated to the most wonderful sight of me in my undies. Standout I know and clearly a pathetic grab at more followers (jokes… I think I have lost followers since posting it and followers weren’t actually at the forefront of my thought process. In actual fact I don’t even have enough followers to warrant any thoughts if they were to come into my mind and in reality probably only my mum saw the post).

9 months in 3

That aside, I posted my #9monthsin9monthsout pic. Traditionally this is an opportunity for two types of women. Ones who have an incredible genetic predisposition to look good no matter what their bodies go through or how they treat them and the ones who have a little thing I like to call “discipline and self control”. They get their butts into active wear for more than a coffee and when they do have coffee they stop at the coffee and don’t accompany it with a sweet treat or a cheese and bacon roll. These women are incredible and I encourage them to always share these pics of themselves because if I looked that good I’d probably be posting bikini pics of myself twice daily. I do however have a sneaking decision that we are only seeing the “1%” out there on socials.

I get it!!! It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling pressing “share” and made me quite nervous. Oddly enough, the nerves didn’t come from the men in my life that might see it, I felt more nerves about the women who might see it and what they’d think. You see as women i think we really battle to build each other up (there I said it), especially in the realm of motherhood and not because we are nasty little pieces of work but rather our own insecurities about how well we are doing at this mum gig creep in and we feel better when we hear other people are struggling and we get busy trying to prove we’re “killing it” or at least have it perceived that we are keeping it all together.

I firmly believe that just because you find motherhood difficult at times does not mean  you don’t enjoy being a mother. Desperately wanting your baby to take a nap so you can have some down time does not equate to being ungrateful that you have a child. Contemplating the idea of giving your baby Phenergan or a nip of brandy in their bottle so you can get a full nights sleep does not reflect your inability to appreciate the beautiful moments in the still and dark of the nights where your little one calls upon you for comfort.

Anyways all of that to say, that I’m not one of these women and I am, despite the nerves, ok with that. It’s quite the cliche to say I’m so proud of my body and what it’s done for my baby and blah blah blah as it goes; i really am. More importantly though I am so amazed at the fact that becoming a mum has been without a doubt the most selfless thing I’ve ever done and my body is actually purpose built to help me do that. The hormones that are released to help you get through birth, cope with the sleepless nights, be patient with your baby, love your partner, make milk and all the rest are astounding. I feel a little bit sorry for the boys because I’m over here like a super hero with these special powers and there’s Mylo with a double espresso trying to get the same effect.

I have given every single ounce of myself, every ounce of my being to raising this boy as big and strong as I can and we are nearly through the first year. I could almost say we are nearly out of the trenches (or is something coming I’m unaware of, if so can someone  be so kind and please give me a heads up). I may not have my body back but I have without a doubt dedicated 100% of this time to enjoying my wee babe, growing him, loving him, nurturing him, feeding him and teaching him. In the same way with our family I have been enjoying our new dynamic, helping ease the changes as we grow, loving my husband (who suddenly gets a lot less attention), nurturing our little tribe, feeding Mylo as he goes to work each day on very little sleep and with a lot less patience but still striving to do the best job he can and learning alongside him how to be a nice human when you feel a little bit like you might be dying on the inside.

I can sense the change in the air and it’s both welcomed and resented in the same breathe because it means I might not have a reason to wear stretch pants all the time; jokes… but seriously… I know we won’t ever be able to live this time again and yet I need this time to draw to a close for my own sanity. Bam loves being with other people and our little community are more than competent to care for him. Mylo is really stepping into his own as a dad being able to do more and more now that Isaac does things other than just feed and sleep. We are now staring down the barrel at work, more babies, daycare and date nights; it’s all uncharted territory.

mum bod

So this is my body after the most selfless year of my life and there will be more seasons like it I’m sure but for now we are onto the business of being an example to our child of what health, fitness and self care look like. As we embark on this journey I invite you to share with me yours and hopefully find encouragement in mine because let me tell you there is no more an arresting conviction like knowing that your child watches every single thing you do to make you put down the spoon and tub of Ben & Jerry’s at 9am.

Here’s to us ladies (and dad’s) for producing our greatest work of art, our greatest gift to this world and to regaining a sense of self in the process.


***NB: I in no way endorse giving babies any form of drugs or alcohol for any reason. Should this be an idea that keeps popping into your head please give me a shout out and I will come on over and have a cup of tea with you to talk it out. We can make a plan or I can even take care of bub for a few hours so you can get some rest, get your hair done or whatever else it might be that fills your cup right on up.

Feeding to sleep…

Mum Stuff

So here we are… I spent the first four and a half months of this wild ride ensuring that I didn’t feed my sweet babe to sleep as per the very specific instructions by just about every midwife I’d come in contact with.

For the most part it wasn’t too hard but I do distinctly remember several occasions where when it was suggested that I should feed him to sleep because the situation was growing to be bigger than Ben Hur and I said “no I can’t do that, he won’t learn to self settle (not soothe, settle).

Then he got too strong to be swaddled so we were forced to move to the “wing suits” (we used Love To Dream). This went ok and we adjusted quickly and were still successful. Suddenly one day soon after Isaac Peter Nicholas Field rolled. in. bed. Not just any roll, an in his “wing suit” roll  and had to be released as a free range Bam with arms out in his cot for safety reasons. Slowly since that day at roughly four and a half months of age things deteriorated to the point where I was spending more time putting my boy to sleep than he was actually sleeping. A week or so out from Christmas I decided that if we were going to actually make it to Christmas I would need to just give in and feed the poor kid to sleep. I vowed that once we got through Christmas and our trip up the coast visiting friends I would sort it out with a week or two at home before Mylo returned to work. #sleepdeprivationisreal

So there you have it, without any intention to end up here, here we are and it’s both all things wonderful, natural and nurturing as well as incredibly guilt inducing based on what I’d learnt.

Upon our return from our Januray holiday Bambi got a little cold, in fact it took us all out, he also got his first two teeth, then we had to get his tongue tie cut and now the next two teeth are coming in hot. Two weeks have passed…

There just seems to always be something that is preventing us from getting on the “sleep training” wagon and if you tried to tell me that I just need to bite the bullet and do it you can go and bite yourself because when my darling boy is uncomfortable and distressed you can bet your bottom dollar I’m gonna offer him the most comforting thing in his world “my bosom”.

Isaac Field Sleeping.JPG

I’ve chatted to other mums about it desperate for a secret answer, I’ve googled everything I can think of, I’ve even discussed it with my little one in hopes he will understand the arrangement and follow along. Nothing is appearing as a guiding light except for one piece of advice given to me by a long time friend who I don’t speak to often but whom seems to have a handle on this whole motherhood thing. Her exact words were “Oh honey I feel for you… both my boys needed me to feed to sleep and were terrible with sleep really so I don’t have any tips! The only thing that really helped me after trying EVERYTHING was to just surrender to your baby’s needs…” and just like that it’s like everything went quiet, the fog disappeared, a tremendous weight was lifted off my shoulders and suddenly I began enjoying my son and the wonderful gift that is feeding him again.

Cold, Heartless & Cute…

Mum Stuff

The last two nights have been amongst some of the more exciting (by exciting I mean absolute torture) of the last seven and a halfish months… Actually that’s a lie there have been so many worse, but also so many better. Given that these are the most recent in my mind they are the most painful (i’m typing this from my dining table as I feel the call of my bed behind me, beckoning me down the hallway to have a sneaky nap. I’m sipping on my black gold (coffee), ignoring that call and attempting to share a little more with you on the very illusive subject of sleep.

I’m so relieved to say that what has occured here is not the demonic possession what we had initially thought (phew) but in actual fact the dreaded “8 Month Sleep Regression” has come upon us (heard of it? Is it real? It feels pretty real). The last several nights Isaac has been waking up within the hour every hour for the entire night without reprieve. My sweet boy just wakes up so upset and the only thing that will calm him down if at all is the ole’ boobies.

Here’s a little history on that…

Shortly before Christmas i began feeding Bam (as he’s become affectionately known) to sleep. Due to a few speed humps along the way on our sleep journey things had slowly deteriorated and next thing you know here we are; although it annoys me that i even think of it as a negative place to be because it actually feels like the most natural thing on earth. Anyways, I just got to a point where i decided that if i was going to get anything done for Christmas something had to give and its all worked out fine so far; sort of…

Isaac Field Play Pen

Bam goes down to sleep with some nice one on one time with me and it’s so peaceful and lovely. The only real problem we have here (and this is where the “sort of” comes in) is that no matter what is going on Isaac needs me to fall asleep. It doesn’t matter how much Mylo shoosh shoosh shooshes him or checks in on us or makes me a cup of tea or waits for me to come back to bed, no one else can do the job. IT’S. ALL. ME.

Now the other issue that has surfaced is that when he wakes in the night he really wakes, like he’s ready to play a game of competition squash type of  wakes. He sits up at violent speeds giving me nip lash every time he hears one of the many and varied sounds in our house as though it’s some sort of signal to get up for the day. “I don’t think so champ and if you do that to me one more time i’m going to confiscate my nipples until you can treat them with the respect they deserve”.

On second thoughts thats the only way I can get you back to sleep in the night and i can’t be bothered trying anything else because i’m too tired so i’ll let you do it to me a million more times in hope that you dose off and i can go back to my bed which i feel like i barely know anymore.

Anyone else feel me?

I can’t wait to hear from you ladies so please comment below to let me know i’m either

a – not alone OR b – what worked for you c – reassure me i’m not going to die from lack of sleep.

The Secret Mum Club…

Mum Stuff

Screen Shot 2019-02-01 at 9.23.10 pm.png

Growing up I always had more boy friends than girl friends. Girls seemed hard work, especially since I can be pretty scattered and forgetful which is awkward when there’s more pressure on these relationships to remember things than your husband and your wedding anniversary. That and i’m a massive people pleaser/door mat so I quickly fell to the bottom of the pecking order in most girl gangs I associated in, albeit the queen of comic relief for us all.

Somewhere in my early twenties that all changed. I met the love of my life (shout out to you Mylo) and he strongly encouraged me to scrap the toxic ones and nurture the wonderful ones. He could see the positive impact the great ones had on me and the rubbish impact the dodgy ones had. Following his advice I, over time did exactly this which leads me to where I am today. Surrounded by incredible women and friends who Champion the bejingles out of me in all that I do.

Example: They’re probably the only people who have read this blog. Thanks guys!

Fast forward to Motherhood and I have been completely blind sided by “mum” behaviours. Heaps of our friends had babies before us and so you can bet your bottom dollar I have been on the phone to them one billion times asking the most ridiculous of questions about my babe like, “how many times a day should he blink”? Or, “Is it normal if he cries when he’s hungry”? and they have been more than patient and willing to share whatever information they have. What baffles me the most though is how many people will say to me, when I ask them what they did in my situation, is that they did nothing, or they googled it; they never asked the question of anyone!!!

Kel & Bec at Park.JPG

Now firstly doing nothing is probably often the answer because “riding it out” is definitely a thing, am i right? But what blows my mind the most is that just talking it out with people is exactly what gets me through!!! “Riding it out” is all well and good as far as the phase that your baby is in but your mental state may not hold up as each “phase” can be back to back and pretty much unrelenting.

Then there’s the mums who potentially should have written and instruction manual on babies because as far as they’re concerned they have all the answers, their kids are perfect and they’re possibly on the cusp of solving world peace for all I know. They make you shrink into nothing and feel hesitant to say anything about you and your baby because you’re obviously wrong! Seriously though, every babe and their families are so different, there is no one way that works for everyone. Aside form that there are so many different ways to do the same thing again, clearly developed because of how different each baby is, they are human for crying out loud, they grow up to be as big an obnoxious as us (scary right)!

In any case, this secret mum club that I have become part of has taken me under their wing with people from all parts of my life coming out of the wood work to offer their support behind the scenes, mainly because I asked which can be the hardest thing in the world (not for me, i can talk underwater with a mouth full of marbles) and so I wanted to create a place here where people could hear about my failings and successes because half the time its just the knowing you’re not alone in the journey and that you’re not the first or only one that gets you through.

PS – In the wise words of Mylo; get rid of any friends who don’t organise a ticker tape parade for you when you manage to get out of the house for at all, especially if you’re wearing pants and have cleaned your teeth. 

Mum Bod…

Mum Stuff


I’ve never been one to have a killer body at the best of times. I’m like a well upholstered arm chair, I tend to be well covered. This lack of focus on my physique pre pregnancy however, did not mean that I failed to see what has now become my well I guess, “Mum Bod”.


I get it I made a human and I did have a massive watermelon hanging off the front of me by the time 9 months rolled around; but I just don’t know that anything can prepare you for the doughy little cream puff you become postpartum. I even remember thinking to myself at 32 weeks “I’m not even that big…” WRONG FELICIA you were massive and you went another 9 weeks after that girlfriend! Green Peace nearly had to step in because they thought you were gonna get beached at Bondi!

30 weeks pregnant

Upon leaving hospital I felt so gross like a puffa fish in defense mode. I just had thighs down to my toes which themselves had turned into overstuffed little enchiladas. A couple of days later the swelling had largely just disappeared, I had ankles again and even knees it was amazing!!!


Thanks to the involuntary bulimia I experienced for 9 months I had now walked out of pregnancy ten kilos lighter than when I started it. Not a bad innings for someone who’s middle name should be “Cake”.

For a few weeks I was feeling good! I was wearing high waisted (and very supportive) black activewear and every time a guest came to visit the first words out of their mouth were “wow you look really good”. It figures I mean my milk came in taking up a whole lot of real estate and nearly promising me the stretch marks I hadn’t yet received and I was smaller than the last time they saw me not as a Brood Mare. My own eyes were impressed because I guess they hadn’t seen me look like this either for quite some time. Naturally I thought now is the time to try on some non stretch clothing because “GUURL you lookin’ fine!!!”

……….awkward silence…….

Standing in front of my mirror with my jeans half way up my thighs and now paused at a road block I realised that I was quite a long way away from the Sports Illustrated shoot which only moments before I was feeling quite confident about. My eyes suddenly readjusted to my new norm and reassured me that I was in fact an apple turnover and not a carrot stick and that I should pull my head in a little. It’s very fortunate for me that I never cared much for anyone else’s opinion prior to this journey and so I would continue with that mantra now however, it is still quite a shock to the system when you have a Shallow Hal moment with yourself and your jeans on very little sleep and cracked nipples.

In any case I’ve decided to take it easy on myself because right now my sole job and responsibility is to care for the tiny little human who is currently napping (thank you Jesus). He needs to suck the life out of me (literally) in order for him to become robust enough to tackle everything life is going to throw at him and I want to give him the best shot ever at that. So I think for now I’ll just stay in survival mode for the sake of giving all my energy to him which does unfortunately include not washing my hair for many, many days and be proud of the fact that I made a human.

DISCLAIMER: All of this is much easier said than done and involves many tears…