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.

The Secret Mum Club…

Mum Stuff

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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!!!

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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…

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