tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5305085684121351582024-03-06T01:32:31.403+00:00Diary of an unconscious motherDiary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.comBlogger349125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-60344352053854200312022-04-28T10:23:00.001+01:002022-04-28T10:23:40.744+01:00Dear Inner Child Hello little me<div><br></div><div>Dance freely wee one, I'm sorry your mum and dad didn't foster your obvious love of dancing.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry you were pushed down paths by well meaning people.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry you weren't strong enough to stand up for yourself</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry you were allowed to watch a scary program with the babysitter which resulted in nightmares for months</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div>I'm sorry your mum was always in bed when you got home from school.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry you felt unheard. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry you were physically and mentally bullied by your brother and nothing was ever done to help you.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry your sister and brother found a nickname for you and teased you relentlessly for a very long time.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry you lost your security blanket called a batty. I'm sorry your mum tried to make you get rid of it and probably hid it.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry life changed so drastically for you after your sister's sexual assault. You weren't aware of what had actually happened but you certainly felt the stress and anguish and fear your parents laid upon you.</div><div><br></div><div>You somehow learned that being the good quiet girl kept you under the radar but it made you minimise yourself and people have been asking you to do that to yourself ever since.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sad that your secondary school years were such a shambles, with no friends anymore and constant bullying which was never really resolved properly.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry there was so much pressure on you to be as clever as other people or to be thinner or prettier or faster or smarter or better. Always being told you're not good enough the way you were. You were brilliant. I'm sad your mum never saw that.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry your siblings had no time or respect for you and treated you like a nuisance and a threat.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sad that you were emotionally neglected and never had a proper chance to connect with your parents. So much unsaid and glossed over or 'fixed'.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry I dragged you in and out of therapy your whole life with no real progress.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm sorry I started drinking so young and ruined your chances of having some semblance of ok teenage years.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div>I'm sad you put so much of yourself into your first proper relationship only to never feel he was good or strong enough for you and that all you actually had in common was alcohol and fun.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm so sad how your life could have been so different.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-80414032101294971122021-09-27T18:53:00.001+01:002021-09-27T18:53:35.040+01:00Discrimination and Ignorance was not why I was there<div>The whole world is on fire and we are fairly fucked here in the UK. I can't see past any of this to any kind of future and I don't understand how complacent and compliant people are being.</div><div><br></div><div>Fucking nurse at GP surgery refused to take my blood cos I wasn't wearing a mask. I have an exemption and have been in the practice many times before. Half the sodding country don't wear them anymore. It's just ludicrous and frustrating and stressful.</div><div><br></div><div>I definitely got poor health care. I wasn't able to talk to her about any of the things I was meant to be there for, because she was being such a *itch. I said you can't deny me healthcare. She effectively said she could as she backed herself into a corner trying to keep away from me. I was already having a bad day and I was too upset, tired and depressed to even try talking to her and I just put the mask on to get out as fast as I could.</div><div><br></div><div>And there is your proof of division, discrimination and ignorance.</div><div><br></div><div>#hadenough</div><div>#naturalimmunityisbest</div><div>#DisabilityDiscrimination</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-5828023396538899712021-09-26T11:37:00.001+01:002022-05-26T15:09:23.682+01:00No one is born in the wrong body. Fired Up one more time<div>The fucking Lancet are in on it now.....some fantastic responses from Posie Parker, Millie Hill and many more...add your WOMAN MOUTH WORDS.........✊😡</div><div><br></div><div>I became so fired up by this tweet and the responses from thousands upon thousands that I decided to take one last step.</div><div><br></div><div>After stopping discussing with my children or mentioning anything remotely about the dying off of women, feminism, misogyny, transing children, the terrible terrible agenda that is going on behind it all. I decided to have one last try.</div><div><br></div><div>I sat with them both and basically said, I want you to read this thread and understand the issue that is being presented here. Erasure of WOMAN right in front of your eyes from a well respected long running medical paper.</div><div><br></div><div>I was so sad that we have come so far but not far enough that our children have been pawned for it to come to this. </div><div><br></div><div>I did my best to talk to them about how important this issue has become in the outer world world that there are people out there being persecuted and fired for speaking the truth. How biology really cannot simply be changed by saying so. </div><div><br></div><div>#WomenWontWeesht </div><div>#StandingforWoman</div><div>#itsallconnectedtothetransexplosion</div><div>#highestpercentofreferralsaregirlswithASD</div><div><br></div><div>https://twitter.com/TheLancet/status/1441372277786951681?t=jUSXe-vtmO0EKV_m4VKGFQ&s=19</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-26015587666371217822020-12-01T09:10:00.001+00:002020-12-01T09:10:21.166+00:00Walk a mile in my shoes<div>I say I feel. Hugely.</div><div>You say my feelings are </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div>Too big</div><div>Too negative</div><div>Too wrong</div><div>I say imagine feeling that way?</div><div>How awful would that be?</div><div>To feel them so.</div><div><br></div><div>What you actually said was things are not as bad as you feel.</div><div><br></div><div>Imagine though, imagine you felt they were?</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div><br></div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-39993431282412029922020-07-13T06:09:00.001+01:002020-07-13T06:09:16.828+01:00blood on the carpet<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">think you hit the nail on the head there... "I was told that i had great potential when I was a kid, something that I've never found but has condemned me to self-deprecation. So I don't want to impose that expectation on her"...how was it phrased to you, how has it shaped you...obviously enough to 'condemn' you, why did you never find it, lack of or too much 'encouragement'....this seems a trigger point for you, it would seem you have a fear of doing the same to your dd..understandable...i think this is half our issues ladies...finding out what our triggers were/are and redoing them a gentler, more respectful way to our own kids..you know so they don't get too *f&^5*UCKED* up!! its a flippin minefield out there and i am in pieces all over the carpet!</span><br><br><div><br></div><div>
Meltdowns - probably so many<div>Losing the Plot - gone</div><div>Breastfeeding - most definitely</div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>An old blog post I never published but had words from a friend I admired. </div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-16930228597004138522020-06-25T14:48:00.000+01:002020-06-29T03:31:12.639+01:00Unconscious Gender Critical Always supporting Mother<div>My jubilance is almost upon me but I remain cautious still.</div><div><br></div><div>Yesterday mornings news regarding the GRA which I caught at 2am round my fire sent my vindication terfidity soaring through the damp Scottish sky.</div><div><br></div><div>I'd learned that I had<a href="https://www.peaktrans.org/"> 'Peak Transed</a>' around February when in desperation one day I called Stephanie from Trangendered Trend. I only realised this a few days ago when I heard and found out what it meant to Peak Trans. I was advised to go on mumsnet 😱😂 thank G-d I probably won't need to now!!!</div><div><br></div><div>I spend my kids lives growing up telling them that colours are for everyone, you can wear what you want, clothes don't define you and be who you want as society doesn't define you either. You can love who you want as long as you are not hurting anyone.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div>Name changing is all the rage at the moment. It is, in some cases a childish desire for autonomy, self identity, confidence, a change, an excitement and sometimes it's a step towards being Transed by a misguided and confusing agenda and subject that I do not think my children should be introduced to at a young age.</div><div><br></div><div>Since when did it stop being my choice what my children are being indoctrinated by?</div><div><br></div><div>When my eldest went to high school joined the LGBQTI lunch time club, there were meetings and conferences and my kids acquired many colourful flags and badges and validation for being ASD/different/quirky.</div><div><br></div><div>For the last few years, we have been immersed in the whole shebang. My kids are so confused and explorative and inclusive and caring and adamant they are right. Eldest has changed from gay to bisexual to now non binary (wtaf is that anyway!) and the middle has been self harming wanting to be a boy. The youngest 8 just goes along with whatever makes her siblings (can't say sisters now,) happy.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br><br></div><div>I'm so bone tired from it all, having to balance their needs and support them whilst also being GC is really hard. Lots of confusion, arguing, understanding, talking and storming off. </div><div><br></div><div>I feel so bad for my parents now. It's a nightmare time for teenagers to be young and impressionable and impulsive 🙄I'm sure we weren't this bad lol</div><div><br></div><div>I spoke personally to Stephanie at <a href="https://www.transgendertrend.com/stonewall-autism-stonewall-schools-guidance/">Transgendered Trend</a> in February when this all finally blew up at home and we found out about the reason for the self harming. </div><div><br></div><div>I talked for ages on the way to work one day in a traffic jam..she was brilliant but put the fear of G-d in me by compounding everything I had been researching up until that point. </div><div><br></div><div>I guess I reached Peak Trans. I ended up in an absolute state, consoled by boss, who understood my situation but really if you haven't 'experienced' your child wanting to die and cut themselves AND be a boy then you can't truly 'get it'. I was sent home, straight to docs, put on medication and basically been a living hell since. I was just almost turning around from my miscarriage and subsequent realisation that this is the end for my womb and her wombfullness and I was hit with another crisis.</div><div><br></div><div>Middle had been seeing an <a href="https://iheartprinciples.com/">IHeart therapist</a> last year which helped her in other ways as it wasn't a 'specific' talking therapy. We tried to get help from CAHMS and school. CAHMS said no, no previous mental health issues. School were great but educatiom and beuracratic systems run slow and I basically heard the news (that I had been waiting almost two months for) that the school educational psychologist doesn't deal with self harm only educational issues. I am fairly sure if covid19 hadn't happened, her education would have suffered. </div><div><br></div><div>The GP was seeing her weekly. Saw her twice. Then covid19 happened. She was starting some art therapy at school. Then covid19 happened. </div><div><br></div><div>I was more relieved than ever when the schools closed and not just because of covid19.</div><div><br></div><div>Now, I just need reassurances that schools and other authorities are going to help sort this mess out and help my family feel less shell shocked by the whole experience. </div><div><br></div><div>I have absolutely no issues with gay, lesbian even bisexual but I draw the line at this new fad of transing my kids. </div><div><br></div><div>I draw the line at other ideas and theories about this confusing time for our children NOT being allowed to be discussed by professionals. Their only alternative being affirmation of trans route. I draw the line at changing the lived in time from 2yrs to 3/6 months. I draw the line at age changing from 18 to 16. I draw the line at my kids being transed behind my back by social media, school and the Government. </div><div><br></div><div>I am, as ever supportive of my children's gender journey even though it freaks me out often. I discussed things regarding LGBTQI with lesbian and straight and gay friends to make sure I wasn't pushing my agenda or stepping on my kids boundaries for TWO years. We ate and breathed LGBQTI we talked about it at the dinner table, for a long long time it was the only thing the eldest would talk about, we were supportive. We went on Pride March, we got her the badges and the flags and we listened but things just turned scary and escalated in a way I couldn't understand or keep up with. In a way that seemed scary and misguided to me. </div><div><br></div><div>I've lost IRL friends over this but you know, I'm used to it now with my strong views lol</div><div><br></div><div>I feel kind of vindicated by the GRA reform being stopped yet worried all at the time.</div><div> </div><div>Now I am worried for all those young kids who are being fed the biological sex lie and that transing is safe and harmless and were hanging their lives on this life affirming and life changing stuff...life or death for some of those kids who are about to be 16 and who are not able to handle this news.</div><div><br></div><div>Now, I'm educating myself again and wondering what is the next step for families caught up in this...what are the school going to do to even out this confusing mess for our children?</div><div>.</div><div><br></div><div>....what a damn mess for everyone. </div><div><br></div><div><div>Children still need to know that transwomen are not women and transmen are not men. Transgender is transgender.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Transwoman can still have penises and I believe that any amount of medication and castration and alteration will never ever change the innate immutable fact that they were born and lived male or female or intersex AND that changing your sex will not be a panacea for their dysphoria.</div><div><br></div><div>Lesbians ( ffs everyone) should be able to say NO to a <a href="https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-silencing-of-the-lesbians">'female penis</a>' because some man has decided to self ID as a woman and so now lesbians must ACCEPT the PENIS and gay men should be allowed to make their mind up ( not too sure yet how this issue impacts gay mens right's) and ME as a woman and mother am allowed to say I feel there is a trans issue being conflated with gender identity and NORMAL questioning of gender and laterally sexuality, the two are different and it is creating a transgender epidemic in children too young to fully understand the complex issues. </div><div><br></div><div>Children are pushed by parents and media/peers/ one way or another. Some parents are over accepting and go down the <a href="https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/my-girl-became-youngest-trans-20138358">trans route</a>, I believe because it is woke and in vogue and they are scared by the high suicide rate amongst gender dysphoria children. This should not happen to babies, toddlers or children. Some parents go down the hate route and are total bastards to their children when they start being aware of other's way of expression. They denounce all LGBT existence and rights and throw their kids out for exploring this side of their life. These are two extremes and as a gender critical woman I am neither of those and it is MY right as a woman and a mother to think this way. </div><div><br></div><div>Transpeople already have rights. They start at 18. Before that you have rights as a child and one of them(!) is the parents right to say no to the incoming UK onslaught of chemically altering children on a whim, talking about anal sex to primary school kids, encouraging and stomping on women's rights and erasing women from every day language, not to mention the confusion and dangers of self ID for all. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><br></div><div><a href="https://aminoapps.com/c/lgbt-1/page/blog/the-dangers-of-binding/r0ja_wpbteu0a64q51zYDpWdaVZmkmMJrGD">Binding</a>, <a href="https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8418463/NHS-U-turns-controversial-puberty-blocking-drugs-transgender-teens.html">puberty blockers</a>, hormones and chemical castration are NOT the answer for my children (or any child). I really don't think I will ever think differently even when or if I actually have to. So if my children decide at 18 to go down this route then so be it but I'll be damned if I accept that RIGHT now for my 11yr old that the trans route is the ONLY route. </div><div><br></div><div>I will not accept professionals being <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-51806962">PUSHED/forced</a> to take the child down the trans route at such a young age and with such vigour and in such a short space of time. </div><div><br></div><div>I will not accept that Dr's, professionals and ANYONE who thinks this way should be silenced. Especially over my children. </div><div><br></div><div>My child can no longer make this <a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/thesundaytimes/status/1271915997574893570">LIFE and BODY altering decision</a> themselves at 16 after 3 months of deciding this. For the work of gender critical females and feminist and women and men and transmen and transwomen who spoke up, I thank you. </div></div><div><br></div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-23065721477208042212020-04-10T04:27:00.000+01:002020-04-10T04:32:56.191+01:00Thoughts on the 3 week Lockdown review by Government a snippet between 31st March - 10th April <div>31st March - Written to those young people studying or at school and still going out. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't care if you don't think it is serious....just do it for a couple of weeks. Do nothing, Do what you want in your own home and if you do go out do it safely 6ft away from me AT ALL TIMES AND WASH YOUR HANDS WHEN YOU GET HOME. It stays on plastic and cardboard for days. </div><div><br></div><div>My life is busy enough without having to deal with these symptoms happening in my family ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Have you ever lived with unwell children AND an unwell husband all whilst being unwell yourself???</div><div><br></div><div>It's not pretty or fun. I've done it with colds and flu's and viruses and puking and pooping and snotting and WORRYING and NO SLEEP. NO THANKS. I can't be doing with it right now especially since I have a risk factor and have many friends and family that have higher risk factors. So stay home, eat your pringles, do your studying and let the #NHS recover from the shock of so many people at once being more unwell than they normally feel...and some people being unable to cope with the coughing and fever symptoms and some people unfortunately dying. Some with no underlying symptoms.</div><div><br></div><div>You can shout as much as you like AFTER, that it's not serious enough to stay at home for a few weeks and read graphs. </div><div><br></div><div>Right NOW the NHS can't cope and I don't want to have anyone I know end up in hospital just now because right now, It's the last place I'd want to be. </div><div><br></div><div>AFTER I want those who don't think it's serious to realise that the Government we have, promised the NHS £350million but instead cut jobs after jobs after jobs and effectively contributed to the ramifications of this virus and see where we are and maybe shout about that. AFTER. Right now, stop spreading the rampant virus, stay at home, wash your hands and hope no-one you know can't manage the symptoms. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you 💜</div><div><br></div><div>A stressed Mum and many others that want you to stay at home </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>6.4.20</div><div><br></div><div>Still stay at home, keep 6ft away from people, follow the lines in the supermarket, wait outside to be let in. Keep washing your hands keep washing your plastic packaging and leave your 5.8million Government letter alone for 24hrs because it stays on surfaces https://www.inverness-courier.co.uk/news/royal-mail-begins-delivering-virus-advice-to-30-million-homes-195864/</div><div><br></div><div>Some still not believing it's as bad as is being made out to be. Hardly anyone wearing masks or gloves.</div><div><br></div><div>10.4.20</div><div><br></div><div>Although physical distancing is getting better, the virus is still spreading.</div><div><br></div><div>Instead of tattle telling on your neighbour be more proactive with telling our Government that they need to implement across board advice regarding cross contamination and how long it stays on surfaces and about asymptomatic carriers. Tell your Government that more than just NHS frontline workers need PPE. Care workers, shop people, anyone who is regularly going out for their work and not working from home. Staff should be taking regular handwashing breaks/glove changing for their own safety and wearing proper masks. I actually really feel everyone should be wearing proper masks and gloves. No one should be a lottery on living or dying.</div><div><br></div><div>The 3 weeks is up soon and it seems the estimated few weeks has become much longer than weeks and most likely will be months.</div><div><br></div><div>I now personally know people with underlying health issues who have died as young as 65 and people with no underlying health issues being ventilated ahe 47, or in a very serious condition, sadly some children are dying too. I now know people who have had the mild symptoms and it's been hell and some it's been a breeze. I don't personally know anyone who has it asymptomatically and is still spreading the virus because ASYMPTOMATIC </div><div>https://www.cebm.net/covid-19/covid-19-what-proportion-are-asymptomatic/</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>We still can't get effective test, tests are arriving already infected, apparently common with new tests. Testing is unreliable and doesn't give a full enough picture. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/amp/health-51943612</div><div><br></div><div>Some still not taking it seriously. </div><div><br></div><div>Government not doing enough soon enough compared to other countries. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/04/coronavirus-deaths-rise-signs-progress-live-updates-200409231002574.html</div><div><br></div><div>Out and about a few more people wearing gloves and masks but not enough IMO</div><div><br></div><div>It kind of feels we are rather easily slipping into a totalitarian state. </div><div><br></div><div>Also I am trying to track Scotland figures, but they keep changing the goal posts and I'm totally convinced the numbers cannot possibly be accurate because there is no proper testing and people who are getting it mild are not counted in the final figures of the day for Scottish Government statistics only hospital patients are.</div><div><br></div><div>The whole thing is a crazy rammy where nobody knows exactly what's going on because we are living it in real time and it changes daily, sometimes hourly and unless you have an entire day to be able to just research, then how can we know wtf is really going on. Hence lack of sleep once kids are in bed.</div><div><br></div><div>China has reported no new deaths but they've already said that before. https://www.npr.org/sections/coronavirus-live-updates/2020/04/07/828827326/china-reports-its-first-day-with-no-new-covid-19-deaths</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Stay at home more.</div><div><br></div><div>What else can we do? </div><div><br></div><div>I need sleep. </div><div><br></div>Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-90454285879649730782019-07-02T12:27:00.002+01:002019-07-02T12:27:47.629+01:00Moving On<h2 style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; line-height: inherit;">No longer are they pretty much solely for the nourishment and development of my babies. I miss how breastfeeding calmed down pretty much any situation and I love knowing that they had healthy in their bodies for at least 3yrs (two of them 5yrs) before they began to fill them with the not so healthy they have now. Breastfeeding wasn't always kisses and rainbows, there's been difficulties days and dark days and guilty days and sore days and OMFG I can't do this anymore days but they were </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">always</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: inherit;">comforting days for my kids. I will miss breastfeeding.</span><span class="x_Apple-converted-space" style="border: 0px; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-20612223020361413672019-06-06T17:57:00.001+01:002019-12-30T13:48:36.559+00:00Radical or Woman <div dir="ltr">
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I'm beginning to think I may be a radical feminist as well as a lactivist and even though I'm just a wannabe unschooler, I'm definitely a CC/AP parent and I'm starting to be actually quite settled with my choices these days. I'm not trying to deliberately hurt anyone, I'm not hating anyone, I feel I'm promoting more protection and understanding of children. I'm not enticing anyone to be evil.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztF1kMUuib2e5m46WXUF4W9XSYyIz6e2-wIfQyJ57MhpniGERjzgbl7qDjlO8htWGJ1VQMgllqb3uBX-RBsKhPjrJRFTejmk0SVBoJ-W3o4toc0pgCmmjQiwDRuT3BSpTA4_V9SFWlYY/s1600/Screenshot_20190606-104645.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztF1kMUuib2e5m46WXUF4W9XSYyIz6e2-wIfQyJ57MhpniGERjzgbl7qDjlO8htWGJ1VQMgllqb3uBX-RBsKhPjrJRFTejmk0SVBoJ-W3o4toc0pgCmmjQiwDRuT3BSpTA4_V9SFWlYY/s200/Screenshot_20190606-104645.png" width="112" /></a>I have to say though I'm not too sure with having a radical since it has such a negative connotation these days. With the actual definition of radical though, I'm happy with that. </div>
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In the beginning women who wanted to wear trousers were radical. Women who wanted to vote were radical. Women who want to drive. Women who want to marry AND work. Women who want to have abortions, go to university, have bank accounts. Women who don't want to be raped or beaten within marriage and fight against the law. </div>
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It all starts with women, women feeling undervalued, diminished and unequal. </div>
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Let's remember what 'radical' feminism has achieved for women's rights and still is. Let's remember what women have fought and struggled for and still do in many countries. Let's remember what women had to and still sometimes do have to endure during pregnancy and labour and marriage and let's not forget that many women died for these causes. </div>
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If I'm a radical, then so be it. I prefer woman. </div>
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Woman who sees injustice and wants to see change.</div>
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Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-6379530136808271982019-05-16T09:22:00.001+01:002019-05-16T09:22:11.684+01:00Gender Awareness and ASD<p dir="ltr"></p>
<p dir="ltr">This increased awareness and knowledge is all well and good but right now, to me, it just feels like a huge dump of information at a time when my child is at her most vulnerable and a lot of jumping on the bandwagon. It's such a difficult situation to explain without sounding homophobic or unacceptable or in the wrong, its a minefield. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I really feel Ellie has been massively influenced by it all as she entered high school but I don't know how to speak about it without sounding wrong. I need to be clear that I have no issues with whatever my kids eventually identifies as, I'm just saying I find it all so intense and as an up and coming female ASD teenager, I can see how easily influenced she can be and how the need to be accepted is paramount. </p>
<p dir="ltr">She had absolutely no awareness or interest in anything to do with gender or sexuality or relationships prior to high school, she never talked about any of it, never indicated any preference or anything like that and now she hardly talks of anything else unless it's gender or sexuality related. I feel she has suddenly been bombarded with it at school and because its a marginalised society and because she is on the spectrum, and so very easily influenced by her peers, this group feels accepting of her differences as an ASD teenager since they are all kind of struggling with feeling 'different' too. They are more tolerant of her idiosyncrasies. </p>
<p dir="ltr">As it is, they are getting to that age where acceptance and tolerance over anything, not just gender and sexuality, are the most difficult.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Maybe I'm worrying over nothing, maybe there should be a term for us parents who experiences this entirely new situation. I am delighted she has finally found a group of accepting and kind friends. I do know it's all going to be OK whatever she eventually decides and we will support her all the way.</p>
<p dir="ltr">It's just so full on and she told me she only went over to the stand because of the colourful rainbow flag. </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-21348835899603642792019-03-27T02:00:00.001+00:002019-03-27T02:00:34.663+00:00Feelings. Fuck em. Burn them all. Burn all the feelings. <p dir="ltr">How could I be so insensitive and selfish and greedy and self-absorbed  and stupid and crazy and delusional and <u>ungrateful?</u> </p>
<p dir="ltr">I sometimes feel people are thinking these thing's or variations of these when they see me with three kids already but wanting another baby. All part of sentences some people say and things I have heard. Insensitive to those who can't, should be grateful for what I have, selfish for wanting to add to population,  crazy for wanting another. I feel guilty for wanting and terrible for obsessing, I feel desperate and scared, I feel useless <u>and</u> over needed, I feel aimless and stuck. I'm overwhelmed with all of it and it's constantly changing. I feel all over wrong for everything. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Now what? </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-38705633007300497432019-03-07T01:27:00.001+00:002019-03-07T01:38:27.481+00:00Even Though <p dir="ltr"><u>1.1.19</u></p>
<p dir="ltr">Even though I'm not thinking about it. Even though I'm working on not obsessing on it. Even though I know my period ended a few days ago and even though I'm not counting or working things out and even though I know my 24-48 hour window of fertility is coming up very soon and even though I am not peeing on the ovulation stick every morning, night and a few of the hours in between and even though I am trying not to let my anxiety take over and even though I'm trying to reduce my stress levels and even though I am not looking at my fertility app two or three times a day and even though I know it says I will ovulate tomorrow and even though I am not not not obsessing and focusing all my nervous energy on consciously conceiving and even though none of this is happening and I'm not doing any of it and even though I know that my due date this time around might be my mums bday not because I look at the due date calculator web page every other day. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Even though I know and don't know any of this, I don't and I'm not because I'm not letting it take over my thoughts or life or anything that ridiculous.</p>
<p dir="ltr">#notdoingthat<br>
#notthinkingaboutit<br>
#notobsessing<br>
<u>#honest</u></p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-52430952366065706452018-11-27T08:33:00.001+00:002018-11-27T08:55:05.841+00:00Ellie's Home Birth Story 27th November 2006<p dir="ltr">The wail was primal, it was from somewhere else. I could feel it but I couldn't hear it, it was coming from me.  I had just been told my baby, my newborn, not yet a week old baby had to go back to hospital again as her jaundice levels had shot up.  We had only just returned home and were settling cosily back to home life. Let me start at the beginning.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Natural, earth-mother, secure, safe and home, these were the thoughts I had for my birth and my baby.  Due on the 21st December, we had a whole month to organise the house, to 'nest' and to be completely satisfied that our home was going to be the best environment to bring our baby into this world.  But of course nature works its wondrous ways and decided that our baby was arriving sooner.  Barry & I had had a house warming party the night before, the house was looking amazing, it was cosy, it was comforting, it was warmed by all our family and friends, who joked about how big I was and how earth mother I looked and how ready to drop, till well after midnight.   </p>
<p dir="ltr">We did a quick tidy up and went to bed at 3am, feeling happy and contented that we had hosted a wonderful and fun house warming party. In actual fact it turned out to be a baby warming party…the next morning at 10am, I woke up and 'woooosh' my waters broke, I stood up and was still leaking. Not believing that I could have wet myself, I woke Barry and told him. He seemed quite calm about it and said shall we phone the hospital – his stock response for the past few months to any ache or twinge! I, of course, took myself off to the toilet, still quite calm and not quite sure if this was happening. Next came the mucous plug... with slight tinges of blood, nothing worrying there either.  This all seemed a bit textbook to me, I know the plug can go and there can be delays, I know the waters can break and still nothing can happen. But for waters first, then plug... next would be contractions I thought... wouldn't that be hilarious!! Wouldn't that be real? But I was only 36+3, I wasn't ready, the house wasn't ready, the pool wasn't ready.  If it hadn't been for me pushing to get various things over the past few months, we would have had nothing.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I telephoned my sister (who was a midwife) and told her what had happened, for the next hour or so, I tried to explain what was happening, the consistency of mucus, the amount of blood, the amount of leakage. She asked me if I was having any pain. Pain? I thought as in back pain or ... oh hang on what was that... that felt tight across the bottom of my belly. I shall call these tightenings, not contractions, they can't be contractions, it just feels a bit tight.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I checked the baby's heartbeat and my temperature and my heartbeat in case of infection. This I did hourly from about 11am till 6pm. All was within normal ranges. I charted my 'tightenings' which were every 5-10mins for maximum a minute at a time. All the while I was talking to my sister on the phone letting her know the readings and confirming that things were still ok. By now it was pretty clear that this was not false labour and Barry had taken himself off to B&Q to sort out the pipes for the birth pool and Mothercare to get a floating temp gauge. He managed to take a wrong turn on the way home and ended up on the motorway to London. He was most upset and ended up over an hour late coming back.  </p>
<p dir="ltr">I meanwhile was permanently ensconced on our porta-potti as the baby was permanently ensconced on my bladder. That porta-potti turned out to be best thing we got for this labour. Every time I tried to move about I need to pee! It was so frustrating... .all my pre-natal yoga moves and aqua-natal practice was going to waste, I couldn't be in any other position except sat on the potti slumped forward on a big cushion propped on a chair!! But boy was I pleased I didn't have to traipse upstairs. In between peeing and 'tightenings', I fashioned myself a wee nest in the living room beside the heater with cushions and towels. I had a gathering of candles, light boxes and oil burners, which I had been collecting over the past weeks, and I laid them out in the back room where the pool was going to be. The pool which was still deflated, still empty but had at least been taken out its box (it needs to 'breathe' for 2hours before use, something we thankfully found out the week before).</p>
<p dir="ltr">During this time, I began calling my tightenings by their full and proper title. Contractions. When did that happen? Barry noticed it first and pointed it out to me. This was it I thought this is real. The pool was inflating and Barry was fixing taps onto hoses and hoses onto walls and I was still on my potti!</p>
<p dir="ltr">By 6pm, the pool was filling and things seemed to be going smoothly. Barry and I were timing contractions, which by now were longer and stronger. I called the hospital and told them I was in labour and they needed to send someone out. They tried to persuade me to come in to the hospital (because it was before 37 weeks), but I stood my ground and they said they would get back to me. How good of them, I thought!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then disaster... .Barry forgot to turn off the tap in the pool and had it been running cold water for ages. The pool was almost half full, of cold water. This is when I began to panic, become upset and think this is not going to happen, whilst writhing on my 'nest'. This is when Barry started to panic inwardly, frantically empty the pool bucket by bucket and boil the kettle. All the while telling me things will be perfect, it's not a problem and he can fix it. And fix it he did. Phoning our best friend, who went to the supermarket and bought 4 kettles, he set to work boiling kettles and pots in order to refill the pool, whilst trying to be with me and help me through my contractions.</p>
<p dir="ltr">At 9pm the doorbell went and in walked the midwives. They said their obligatory 'we think you should go to the hospital' speech and, realising it wasn't going to happen, settled in for the duration.</p>
<p dir="ltr">(Note from Angela at <a href="http://www.homebirth.org.uk/">Home Birth </a><a href="http://www.homebirth.org.uk/"><u>UK</u></a>: Miriam's sister reports that Miriam actually responded "Thanks for your opinion; you will find me at home", which I think is an excellent way of dealing with the situation! The same midwife later told Miriam "You are too early in gestation for a waterbirth", to which she responded "Thanks for your opinion; you will find me in the pool".)</p>
<p dir="ltr">I obtained timings and figures later from my midwife as during the rest of the evening, I lost all concept of time and space. I was checked at 9.20pm and found to be 3cm dilated, cervix almost effaced and V+ 0-1.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For the next hour, I remained on my 'nest' and was mainly on my hands and knees, grasping Barry's hand and making incredible noises. I found that if I made moaning and groaning noises it helped the pain, so I did this for all I was worth. There was no high pitched screaming, just low guttural moaning, grunting and baying noises.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The pool was finally ready for me at 10.30pm and I was straight in there. Being the organised person I am, I had the previous day, sorted out what music I wanted for my labour. I opted for the drum and rain music and with my glowing light boxes and candles, the room was amazingly peaceful. I for one was not!!!!</p>
<p dir="ltr">This stage was the hardest, I was told not to push and it would increase my risk of tearing and so I had to blow out my contractions instead of pushing. Barry was incredible at this point and almost fainted himself with panting!! Every time I said I can't do this he was there saying I can. Every time I needed him to give me strength he was right there passing it to me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">At 00.30am I had strong rectal pressure and the midwives asked me to come out as I had been in the pool for two hours. They checked me and found I was fully dilated, V+0+1. They tried to ask me to stay out of the water as they were not comfortable with me giving birth in the water, saying don't you care about your baby, I politely declined, called her mean and 'ran' straight back in to the pool!!</p>
<p dir="ltr">I asked how long this next stage was going to be and when she told me it could be an hour I thought NOOOOoo way. So very soon after I felt a slight bulge and excitedly guided Barry's hand to touch it. He was astounded, I was astounded. It was amazing.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then at 1.05am with one almighty push, the widest eyes I have ever made with the most astonished feeling I have ever felt, Ellie Rebecca slipped gently into the water. I remember seeing her in the water and my mind stopped. Everything literally stopped. For that split moment, nothing mattered, nothing moved, time was immobile. I gently scooped her up and cradled her in my arms. I blew gently into her face, she raised her eyebrows at me and gasped her first ever breath. In that moment Barry and I gasped our first ever breath too. I was so overawed I didn't even think to find out if she was a boy or girl. She lay peacefully in my arms until the cord stopped pulsating and was clamped by daddy Barry as he has now become.<br>
I came out of the pool and thankfully delivered my placenta by 1.18am with no fuss whatsoever, the midwife gently pulled and out it came. Ellie weighed 6lb 11oz and had Apgar scores of 9/1 and 10/5. I had estimated blood loss 250ml, no tears.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Our first night in our own bed with Ellie Rebecca in between us was magical. We just could not believe what we had created.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Unfortunately, being early, Ellie had trouble feeding and became jaundiced, and we had to go to hospital the following day and we then spent the next week and half in and out of hospital with her having light treatment. As is the way in my life, it was one extreme to the other. All that I hoped and wished for with her birth was now the complete opposite. She was in a hospital environment, she was having blood taken, she had to feed every three hours because of the fear of dehydration and the all important skin to skin contact was drastically reduced. We were taken care of wonderfully in the hospital and we made the best of it was we could, letting Ellie know we were there for her all the way. Soon she was allowed home and the fun of babies begins</p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-44970657711774220752018-11-07T12:24:00.001+00:002018-11-08T11:04:22.006+00:00This Woman. This Mother<p dir="ltr">How ironic that on my birthday I will be spending the day with the woman who gave birth to me as she goes to an appointment that will likely tell us that pretty soon she won't remember who I am.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This woman who gave birth to me, who will definitely not remember she has the appointment or that it's my birthday or that it's such a significant day for all of <u>us.</u></p>
<p dir="ltr">This woman who is slowly forgetting, slowly declining, slowly disappearing into herself. </p>
<p dir="ltr">This woman who is becoming more tactile and grateful for my presence and who will soon forget all her criticising and her Jewish Mother guilt. </p>
<p dir="ltr">This woman who I've attributed most of my neurosis to and my naturally smooth skin and whose relationship with myself I've analyzed extensively and who has provided my blog with many a crazy story.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This woman who made me this strong, determined, neurotic, anxious, wild and fun woman. </p>
<p dir="ltr">This woman. This mother. This woman. My mother, My mum.</p>
<p dir="ltr">💜 Happy Birthing Day Mum 💜</p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-55534866799175971272017-09-21T08:57:00.001+01:002017-09-21T09:14:01.641+01:00If you aint got nothing nice to say, dont say nothing at all<p dir="ltr">Platitudes platitudes. There really is very little to say. If you can't think of anything. Say that. Don't platitudes.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Don't say. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You can have another one. I know that. I want the little girl I had. Don't you see the difference? You can have another one. I know that. But do I? No one knows that. What if I can't. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You can have another one. Maybe, but I'm in pain now. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Right now is what matters. Its a platitude, it's insensitive and it doesn't work. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Don't say. </p>
<p dir="ltr">At least you have your other three. Yes but I wanted *her* to be my 4th. She was wanted. I meant be thankful for your other three. Are you implying I ought to be satisfied with what I have? That I am not already thankful for them and love them? </p>
<p dir="ltr">I meant they must be keeping you busy. I don't want to be busy. I'm always busy. I want to switch off for a while. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Don't say. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Cheer up why don't you smile. Why don't you fuck off. I'm not in the mood for smiling. Of course I feel depressed. Do you know what's just happened? Don't be insensitive. Don't be ignorant . It's not my job right now to ease your awkwardness. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Don't say.</p>
<p dir="ltr">How are you? Unless you really want the answer. Because I will tell you. Even though I have no proper words to describe how awful I feel, if you ask I won't say fine. Be prepared for a raw answer. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My raw self can't handle platitudes. My raw self feels everything. My raw self reacts massively. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Don't say anything. </p>
<p dir="ltr">If you don't know what to say. Just let me know you're here for me and you are sorry for my loss. A hug usually helps too. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Meltdowns - sooooo many<br>
Losing the Plot - just the will to get out of bed<br>
Breastfeeding - too tired and forgot that's 2 nights in a row </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-79608897912641497252017-09-20T01:24:00.001+01:002017-09-20T01:24:42.872+01:00I'm not meaning to pick them!<p dir="ltr">We've been watching family films a lot this weekend. I've been trying to keep us close as a family in the evenings just before bed instead of our separate screens. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I went through Netflix and added a number of 80's films that were classics and I remembered enjoying and thought the kids would like them too. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The first one we watched was Look Who's Talking. I remembered there was a kid talking to himself (we could hear it as audience) and that it was quite funny and probably what swayed me then and now, was that it had Bruce Willis's voice in it. </p>
<p dir="ltr">First off, I forgot about the whole conception scene at the beginning, the animated talking sperm and egg scene and then I forgot about there being scenes of an animated fetus from inside the mothers belly. Honest to G-d I pretty much forgot the entire first part of the film consisted of mostly pregnancy and fetusbaby and birth related stuff. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I almost freaked the fuck out and panicked that the kids were going to be really upset about seeing it. They didn't seem to be and I stifled the way my heart jumped into my mouth when the fetusbaby started thinking and talking. Completely forgot about that part too. *sigh* </p>
<p dir="ltr">Aside from that, the rest of the film was sweet and funny in places and terribly outdated in others. And yes I did shout at the TV during some of the birth scenes and yes my hubby did shout at the TV for them going back and forward to baby's room instead of cosleeping. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I watched Fools Rush In - didn't know there was a miscarriage scene (which actually turned out not to be) which caught me by surprise, made me cry and had me cursing my stupid choice of films this weekend. </p>
<p dir="ltr">We then watched as a family, Look Who's Talking too because the kids enjoyed the first one. The beginning was similar but I was more prepared and anyway it was mostly missed because Millie was insisting there were two babies and was becoming upset with me for saying there was only one. It was that becoming upset way I recognised as the...about to explode and NEVER recover..kind of upset. I negotiated my way out of that meltdown like a pro. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The next one I watched alone was Philomena but what I thought was going to be a quirky slow film about two mismatched sad people turned out to be the true story of this tragic tale of woe about the practice of the Catholic church in Ireland at the time, forcing unwed mothers in their care to give up their children for adoption. This particular mother had been looking for her son for 50 years but in the end he had died but it turned out he had wanted to be buried back in Ireland where he was born in case his mother ever came looking for him. Every time the mother had gone to the home to look for him, she had been fobbed off and told lies. He once went there from America, on his almost deathbed, and he was also told lies and that his mother wasn't looking for him. You know real high end never ending tragedy. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Netflix really does give ridiculous descriptions for the films and I often just go by name and the picture. I had a rough idea of the genre, family based or funny. But OMG they were crazy choices!! </p>
<p dir="ltr">It seems no matter what film I pick there is some reference or scene about miscarriage or pregnancy or those kinds of things. It's like some weird cruel coincidence joke that's not really that funny. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Meltdowns - a few<br>
Losing the Plot - I don't have the energy to be shouty<br>
Breastfeeding - she didn't ask tonight! </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-69023560284590531122017-09-16T10:46:00.001+01:002017-09-16T10:46:25.182+01:00Unknowns and empty knowing <p dir="ltr">I went to EPAS (early pregnancy assessment suite) today. EPAS is where we went the day after Neshama was born. We took her and her placenta there to be looked over to make sure she was all intact and nothing was left inside me. I didn't take much in when we were there initially and she said it was clear I had been in shock. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I am thankful for this thoughtful caring midwife who took the time to sit and talk with me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I needed to talk to the midwife who attended to me to clarify some things for me. I needed to hear from someone who last saw her. I needed to cry. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I just turned up and asked if she was a available and we sat in a private room and chatted for about an hour. She took the time to listen and answer all my questions and we chatted, about inane things and also about her stillbirth at 36 weeks and how things were so different back then. Losing a baby later on in pregnancy must be a billion times worse than this feeling, I don't know how I could recover from that. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I really just wanted to know how old she thought Neshama was and why there weren't any signs or why I didn't notice or feel the moment she passed. I knew she couldn't really answer the other questions but knowing her approximate age felt important. One of those math absolute number things. A quantifiable known. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I also needed some confirmation about how quickly things went wrong and that there wasn't anything I could have done. She said that If I had gone for any scans, they would have all shown a healthy growing baby and somehow I think it would have been even worse to go from the excitement of passing the so called worrisome stage to losing her after. It would also have been even worse to have known she had passed and then have to wait for her to be born, not knowing for sure or knowing it could happen at any time but not knowing when. Too many unknowns. </p>
<p dir="ltr">We talked about what will happen if we try again. If there is anything different I need to do. Am I too old now? She said there were more 'older' mothers nowadays. She said I would more than likely be very worried and I can come and be scanned early or be seen at any time. Do I want that though? What if it happens again, I just can't imagine wanting to know early on with the having to wait around in the agonising limbo phase. </p>
<p dir="ltr">She gave me a pregnancy test to take at the 3 week mark to check my hormone levels and that everything has completely passed. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I don't know if I can bring myself to do it. There is really something desperately tragic about taking a pregnancy test to check I am completely empty. </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-5476352003462106882017-09-15T03:16:00.001+01:002017-09-15T03:16:55.699+01:00Algorithms are not the best ways to cope <p dir="ltr">I keep wondering if there is bleeding quotient, like they say you usually bleed for 6 weeks lochia for full term so is it 40 divided by 6, which is about 6.6 but is that days or what and then I don't know how to convert that to the relative weeks.  I want a smart clever little formula. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Then I realise that all women are different and experience physical things differently. It's probably not possible to quantify that kind of physiological response. Most information sites say anything from few days to few weeks but a lot of forums with posts from real people talk about bleeding still after 6 weeks. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I'm not worried about my bleeding as it has been tailing off and only coming back if I exert. The clots are now small and the pain is usually minimal. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I just want it to be a tangible exact quantifiable known. I have this need for something solid and undeniable. It's as if having this handy mathematical way of working it out means something makes real sense. Quantifiable sense. I am useless with numbers and hate maths but I know it's absolute. I know certain <u>formulas</u> are always one way. Pi is always Pi. Speed is always distance over time. Bleeding will last x amount of time.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Instead it's all just full of unknowns and smattered with possibles and maybe. Its hard to find something to hold me down. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I'm always all about feelings and emotions and I don't understand why I'm suddenly desperate for a math sum! It's weird. </p>
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<p dir="ltr">Meltdowns - mainly due to physical pains<br>
Losing the Plot - not so much<br>
Breastfeeding - one thumb for right two thumbs for left...just a little morning and in the night</p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-33880397478529554942017-09-13T14:59:00.001+01:002017-09-13T15:12:00.847+01:00Space between the moments <p dir="ltr">Space between the moments. </p>
<p dir="ltr">That's what I dread.   Those moments when I'm not busy being busy or when I'm not needed for anything.  That's when the fragmented moments of time have a chance to settle in my mind.  The unsettling ones that remind me of the shock and disbelief of that night. The ones that take me straight to that shattering sinking moment when all hope had gone. </p>
<p dir="ltr">We've been away for 3 nights. A Camping Wedding!! We weren't sure if it was a good idea to go or not. It was a long journey, we were both still in shock and it seemed like a huge effort but I was so looking forward to seeing my friend get married after all her adversity.  I also knew it would be such a fun and lovely wedding and it would do us good to be living communally amongst friends. The tent was already set up for us, which was a huge load off. We also, thankfully had real beds not mats on the ground. There were 4 or 5 other families, loads of kids and some of the couples family. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The couple are the most laid back, beautiful, wonderful, fun family ever. The whole wedding was just super.  And, it was entirely a field!! It was so hard to leave. I don't want to return to real life. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It was really satisfying watching the kids all playing out in nature (despite the occasional upset).  It was also just great having my friends around me. Friends who knew, that even though I was loudly and enthusiastically introducing myself to others (but not fully present during chatty times)and even though I was busily organising various things (but not wanting to deal with kid conflict issues or not handling it when things went slightly <u>awry</u>) and even though I was dancing like a whirling dervish at the evening party (knowing it would set off my bleeding again but not caring because..dancing), they knew, that there was still that space between the moments. <br><br><br></p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-25257981336290838842017-09-10T10:07:00.000+01:002017-09-10T10:07:01.385+01:00Neshama's Birth Story<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: #f7f0e9; color: #c94093; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">
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On Sunday 3rd September in the morning, I saw blood when I wiped, I had a look with a mirror and thought it was maybe from a cut. The blood was dark and I didn't feel unwell, I had a look on few forums and most threads were along lines of this happened to me and all was ok. I remembered a number of my friends had bled all the way through their pregnancies.</div>
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Sunday evening after work had cramp/ache in what felt like back leg top of bum area at the end of work but had no other pains or cramps in my stomach, had had an hours rest at mums in middle of shift.</div>
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Sunday night had proper look with torch to see if cut was bleeding. It wasnt. I spoke to some friends and a few midwife friends in the evening, who mostly said try not to worry, take it easy, get it checked soon.</div>
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Monday morning more blood fresh. I made an appointment to see someone but still not feeling any major urgency as was just spotting with no cramp or pain or anything.</div>
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During day on Monday I did feel a slight wierd sharp sensation in cervix every so often, through the day and put it down to me having had a look in there the night before and having used my finger to check how high the blood was.</div>
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Around midday, I went for a dog walk with friend and had wanted to tell her that I was bleeding a bit but had Maia with us and didn't want her to worry. Few hours later, after lying on sofa watching film with Maia, I picked up kids from grandma's and took Millie to Rainbows. I spoke to my SIL and had all but decided what will be will be. I came home with older two, did a few light chores then started bedtime around 8.30pm.</div>
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Whilst lying with Ellie, I felt what I thought was maybe drop of blood coming out, so went to the bathroom and did a pee. No blood. Didn't realise it was waters leaking.</div>
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At around 9pm after I had come back up to lie with Ellie, I almost straight away felt even more of a gush, stood up then felt my waters break. Half panicked but trying not to in front of kids, I said Barry's name and rushed downstairs sat on toilet, about a cup of blood fell out.</div>
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Just as I was stepping over to the bath, I put my hand under for some more stuff coming and Neshama was born into my hand. (Barry later told me I said in an anguished cry 'Its my baby', I don't remember this) </div>
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I remember thinking I don't want this to be a scary panicky moment, there is nothing to be done just let it be done. So I tried to remain as calm as possible. I also didn't want to freak Barry out who was already wanting me to go to hospital. I knew he was coming from a place of love and fear and worry so I made a conscious choice not to allow that to panic me as well. I knew I was not hemorrhaging, I was in hardly any pain from cramping and it was all just quietly happening in front of me.</div>
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I half sat laid back on a towel in the bath holding her still attached to the placenta and I waited and waited until I was able to move and she wasn't attached to me. I sent Barry upstairs a few times to check Ellie was asleep as we had had to leave her. I then sent him to get candles and he turned off the light. We occasionally hugged in awkward positions and talked about what to do. I talked to a midwife friend who said if I went in to hospital they would most likely just keep me in overnight and not do any checks until morning now anyway. I envisaged an ambulance coming to the house, possibly waking the girls. I thought about the bumpy noisy ride to the hospital. I thought about the bright lights and intrusive atmosphere and I said out loud, I don't want them to take my baby. We decided to stay at home. I concentrated on holding my tiny wee baby safe.</div>
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After some time I felt some of the umbilical cord slightly rip like a thread breaking, then the rest broke off and I was able to move her. We placed her in a small box. We then waited again until I thought most of the placenta was out. (turned out to be just clots, I thought it was pieces of placenta). I was in an empty bath for about an hour before the bleeding slowed down enough for me to get out. Also I was becoming too uncomfortable and getting a sore coccyx.</div>
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I then lay in bed and for the next 4 hours and I would get up every 15-20mins to allow more blood and clots to come out. I had the portable toilet beside the bed, with wipes and toilet paper and mats on the bed. I was kind of on automatic pilot by now and rested between. Barry would occasionally get up and empty the toilet and he also rested beside me. There was very little pain which I am so thankful for. I was just trying to focus on expelling everything so nothing would be retained incase I became unwell and I basically tried not to focus on the reality of it all.</div>
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At 1am I unexpectedly birthed her placenta and that's when I realised the other stuff had just been clots. My sister was on messenger with me and explained that clots are gelatinous mass that break apart easily on touch and the placenta would feel solid. It gave me a bit of a shock because it was so many hours after. I felt relieved so much had come out as it was becoming more and more unlikely to be retained (stuck inside me) which can be serious. I suddenly really felt I wanted to make a print because that's what I had done for my other babies. Barry went and found me some paper and I made a print. It was really small and looked like a mouse. I felt better that Neshama also had a print.</div>
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After that we fell asleep until morning. Barry took the girls to school whilst I slept some more and then we went to the hospital to be checked over where she said everything looked ok, as in mostly all out, and to keep an eye for clots and fever. They were very respectful and made no awful comments or upset us at all. (I have heard some awful stories) When we said we didn't want her to take Neshama or her placenta out of the room to check, she understood and stayed in the room. </div>
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The next day we buried her in our local cemetery. A few family and friends came. That was comforting.</div>
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She lived and she was born. She was loved and very wanted from the start. </div>
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(I had not even thought yet about writing a birth story for this birth. It was only when I saw Barry typing something quite fast and I asked him and he said stuff and when I pressed him and he said 'Neshama's birth story, I suppose it is' I thought, of course..she deserves a birth story too)</div>
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Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-17241613228255139902017-09-08T00:44:00.001+01:002017-09-08T04:13:19.206+01:00Dream<p dir="ltr"><i>From July </i>2016</p>
<p dir="ltr">Did you have a bad dream <br>
Nods head<br>
What happened?<br>
You went away</p>
<p dir="ltr">Where did I go?<br>
I don't know<br>
Did you call for me?<br>
Nods head<br>
And here I am, I will always be here. </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-80125273094322643992017-09-08T00:39:00.001+01:002017-09-21T08:59:19.666+01:00Need. Want. <p dir="ltr">I didn't mean for Neshama to die because of my need to have another baby. </p>
<p dir="ltr">She wasn't able to live, I don't know why, but we created her and somewhere along the way something happened to her that she couldn't do anything about, neither could we.</p>
<p dir="ltr">She didn't choose this for herself, who would? But I feel we sort of did, because I wanted another baby. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I say I, because I spent 5 years persuading Hubby that it would be an amazing awesome idea to have another one and he finally conceded that he did also want another baby but was terrified of not being able to manage emotionally, financially, physically and on even less sleep.   </p>
<p dir="ltr">Hubby absolutely wanted her when I told him and he obviously subconsciously wanted her when we conceived her,  because if you're not using contraception...well....you could get pregnant! I hope he doesn't blame me for persuading him because now look what he's having to deal with. I hope he's not blaming himself either. Yes I know, blame isn't healthy. I can't help it. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My need and want for another baby is raw right now. I need that life growing back inside me. I need to feel that unbelievable overwhelming love that only comes from knowing you are sustaining your child's life inside you.  Except I didn't sustain Neshama's life. I want her back inside me and for none of this to have happened. I want her back inside me but I would also want to have another baby inside me right now because I know that it's not possible to have Neshama back.  It doesn't mean I've stopped loving and wanting her but it does make me feel guilty for thinking about another different baby.  I feel not in control of that need to have a baby inside me.  Or my thoughts about how I feel.  Is this a good time to start blaming hormones?</p>
<p dir="ltr">When my kids say to me 'I need this' I more often than not automatically respond with 'You don't need it, you want it'   I know they don't understand the difference yet but one day they might. One day they will be able to deal with not being able to get that vital all encompassing whatever and soon they will differentiate between how much they really need something compared to how much they want it. Then, I hope they work damn hard to get what they need, then once they have what they need, they work even harder to get what they want. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Right now I want and need another baby in my belly. Intellectually, I know it's too soon, don't care. </p>
<p dir="ltr"><u>Whatever</u> way I look at it at the moment, I think i will always feel awful for not being able to help her survive. And a bit selfish and slightly (more) crazy for wanting another baby again already. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Meltdowns - on the increase but all in hand and understandable <br>
Losing the Plot - no energy really but if it happens it happens. <br>
Breastfeeding - I told Millie I couldn't on Monday bedtime because I thought it might cause a contraction. I had never thought about it being an issue before or with my pregnancies with the other two breastfeeding and I had also never felt it give me a contraction during this pregnancy.  I wonder if subconsciously I knew something wasn't right. An hour later I birthed her. Now, I don't think it would have made any difference.  I remember feeling sad that Millie had been upset and taken a while to get to sleep and I could have fed her and it would have made a difference to her. </p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-1749577862129405922017-09-08T00:38:00.001+01:002017-09-08T04:15:20.179+01:00Telling the girls<p dir="ltr">The worst most horrible part is having to tell my girls they won't be sisters come February. It's beyond anything I can imagine having to do. Worse than birthing her beautiful body last night in the bath whilst they were blissfully unaware falling asleep with hubby who was going from me to them. Worse than delivering her placenta 4hrs later whilst they slept peacefully unaware. Worse than sending them off to school this morning after Ellie had laid with me and discussed baby names and worse than being checked over by midwife whilst they were blissfully unaware at school. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Dreading this part much more than anything else that's happened so far :'(</p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-57802467119253914682017-08-30T18:43:00.001+01:002017-08-30T19:41:48.569+01:00Psyching myself up<p dir="ltr">I haven't been to see anyone yet for this pregnancy. I realise this may be shocking to some of you, I imagine you can't conceive of not having a health professional involved right from the beginning or not scanning at every possible moment. </p>
<p dir="ltr">For each and every pregnancy I have had hassle from health professionals for my choices during pregnancy and labour. I refused nuchal test. I asked for short scans to minimise ultrasound effect, I refused antibiotics, I refused insulin, I refused constant monitoring, I refused more scans and ultimately with my first, I refused to go to hospital. I decided what I wanted to do based on the risks and research my husband and I spent inordinates amount of time doing. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Almost everything was a fight, a hassle. We had to explain ourselves to many different people. We were rarely supported in our choices and it changed the whole magical experience into basically a stressful pain in the butt. We were vilified and demonised, patronised and ignored. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I just don't want to go through all that this time round, so I have been enjoying my pregnancy (the crappy parts as well!) and staving off the inevitable negativity for as long as possible. <br>
.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have been researching possible obstacles I might face since I am now classed as an older mother and I have increased likliehood of gestational diabetes again. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It's not looking great. I can expect my age to be brought up numerous times with an impending sense of doom attached to it.  My age brings risks of pre-eclampsia and there will probably be increased pressure to be induced as soon as I hit 40weeks. They might try and persuade me to take aspirin or clexane or have a sweep or ultimately be induced. Funnily I never reached 40 weeks with my girls so that could be something to cling on to!!</p>
<p dir="ltr">I really need to psych myself up to talk to them and I really can't arsed with it all. You know. The questions. The risks. The tests. The distrust of medical/authority types who see me as this one generic pregnant woman who has to adhere to policy procedure and avoid the death of my baby at all costs and it's all my fault if I don't do as they say without question or knowledge. Yes sir no sir three bags full of amniotic fluid sir. Your baby could die if you don't obey us.</p>
<p dir="ltr">As usual the fear of social services means I will soon be contacting them to allow them to join me on my journey but woe betide anyone who pisses me off with their risk averse negativity policy driven mentality!!!<br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Breastfeeding - still happening amazed milk hasn't dissappeared<br>
Losing the Plot - probably with NHS<br>
Meltdowns - increasing unfortunately I blame impending teengery hormones</p>
Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530508568412135158.post-52047292419335851742017-07-03T23:40:00.001+01:002017-07-03T23:40:19.477+01:00Fight to the end...of summer<p dir="ltr">I can't believe how awful Ellie is to Millie. </p>
<p dir="ltr">All I ever wanted was a family full of kind, loving, fun and happy children with the occasional falling out that was dealt with in an understanding and gentle manner resulting in even more understanding of each other and living in a loving family unit and I've tried so so hard over the years to engender and make this happen but Jesus fuck she is so so mean to her and Millie is at an age now where she is fighting back more effectively and aggressively.    She is starting to retaliate in the same ugly way she is being attacked by Ellie, but at 5yr olds level. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Ellie and Maia are similar ages so whenever they had issues I was always on hand to help sort it when they didnt have the emotional capacity and words to handle it. Now that they are older, Maia has learned the art of compromise and the beauty of letting go (mainly from hubby ) and the skill to stand up for herself or involve me when needed. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The age gap however between Ellie and Millie is such that Millie doesn't understand certain things yet and is unable to be fully aware of the consequences of her behaviour.  She also is thankfully still at an age where she is willing to back down and still wants the family unity to bond and to live in a loving environment but I can feel the relentlessness of the arguing and fighting is wearing her down.  </p>
<p dir="ltr">With Ellie's aspergers, the same kind of thing applies, she still doesn't understand certain things yet and now I realise she might never. She seems to not care about the consequences of her behaviour but in all possibility she also isn't fully able to. She is very reluctant to utilise the same methods of handling it as we used when it was just her and Maia. As she is older, it's much harder to distract her or intercept things and move things along before it gets out of hand or deal with it using sibling rivalry techniques learned over the years.  She is unable to see Millie's side of things and cannot imagine how it must be for Millie to constantly have her eldest sister on at her and basically bullying her. I talk to her about it and try and get her to see how her behaviour is affecting the relationship...not just with Millie but how it affects us all. I try to give her tools....remove yourself from the situation, come and get me, don't get into a back and forth match with a bloody 5yr old. I also talk to Millie about her behaviour and <u>find</u> she is more receptive. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The other realisation I have with her having aspergers is that according to Ellie it is NEVER her fault. She never takes responsibilty for her part in anything. She likes to explain at great length why it's all Millie's fault. She refuses to back down and often ends up being the highly upset and affronted one when it's because of her attitude or behaviour that we are in the sorry mess. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I think in the past I have consistently tried to find ways of dealing with this that come from the emotional angle. That whatever is bothering them can be sorted out by discussing things and working out what the problem is and where it may have started and what can be done to sort the issues out. It just doesn't work. It's such a convoluted mess of past digressions and lingering resentment that it's never possible to untangle things.  There is always confusion of events and feelings and it just becomes more convuluted and frustrating trying to sort it. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I also can no longer keep thinking she is older therefore she should be more able to back the fuck away, not get riled up so much by a 5yr old and stop personalising things so immensley. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Anyway....that's been on my mind recently...a lot of the fighting today took place whilst I was driving which makes it doubly hard to sort.  </p>
<p dir="ltr">First week of summer is nearly over and ocht it's not been too bad otherwise. We've been quite busy doing fun things too. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The fighting just really gets me down and I'm finding it hard to know what to do and I realise that it also triggers lots of sibling fighting memories from my childhood which defintely doesn't help. <br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Meltdowns a plenty<br>
Losing the plot is inevitable<br>
Breastfeeding it's all part of the process </p>
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Diary Of An Unconscious Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13319418516678161786noreply@blogger.com0