All I ever wanted…

Have you seen the gorgeous Melimelo bags? There’s one that resonated with me so much. The slogan on it was ‘All I ever wanted was everything’ and I am so guilty of this. But what do you class as everything? Is anyone ever truly happy and satisfied with what they have? It’s human nature – we always want more.

When I was younger I used to think when I have the perfect house, car, clothes,figure and designer handbags coming out of my ears…that’s when i’ll have ‘made it.’ Approaching 30, renting, covering my lumps and bumps in primark leggings and barely being able to afford a gingerbread house – let alone the dream house on rightmove, I see now that that, in fact was not ‘everything.’

Seeing people I love, fighting just to stay alive, to have one more sniff of a loved ones head. To get oxygen into their lungs. To hear I love you one more time. You realise that however lovely it would be to have the materialistic items – none of it means anything really. You wont want to hug your designer shoes when the end comes, you wont be flicking through photo albums of your top spec cars, reminiscing about how much money you’ve spent over the years. It will be the people that you shared your life with, the ones you gave life too and the friends along the way…that’s who you’ll want there, that is what matters. Money may be able to buy you a certain amount of happiness but it cant buy you life.

I am very lucky to have been able to of had two beautiful children that I love with every atom of my being, I have a wonderful partner, mother, siblings and friends. My children have their health and I have mine to be able to look after them and watch them grow – and that, to me…is in fact – MY EVERYTHING.

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It ain’t what you do it’s the way that you do it…

Okay, I’m just putting it out there. I envy those women who can give birth & be home for dinner all on the same day. I’ve always dreamed of having my little bundle, being checked over, maybe staying for a night at most then being discharged but that’s never been the case for me. 

My first baby was almost two weeks late, I was due to be induced the following day when she decided she’d had enough of waiting. It was a long, long labour and even though it was my first time I knew something wasn’t quite right. When she did finally enter the world at 9.58pm on the 18th July 2011 she was 10lbs 4oz, had swallowed meconium she had done inside me (the first baby poo) and was very poorly because of it. She was whisked away and placed on a ventilator with tubes here there and everywhere, X-rayed, prodded and it was awful. I hadn’t felt listened too before the birth but I couldn’t fault the care she received after arriving. Yes she was a natural delivery. I know…ouch! She was kept in neo natal for a week, I was on the ward where all the mums and new babies go. Except I didn’t have mine next to me like everyone else. I saw mums come and go. I was kept awake but not by my baby. I had lovely visitors but I always felt that they left disappointed as they could only see me not the baby. But thankfully my gorgeous girl was fine and is now a wonderfully inquisitive six year old. 

 

Fast forward five and a half years after her birth my second child was due. Because of the size of my firstborn I was having regular scans with my little man. I say little but all the way through he was measuring big. In all the scans he had been head down and raring to go, I thought this could be it the ‘perfect birth’ I’d dreamed of, water birth, whale music, home in time for eastenders – the whole shebang! Until the last scan when he decided he’d actually like to enter the world bum first. I was so upset, I tried to have him turned twice but the boy was not for turning and I had to face the reality that one of my biggest birthing fears was imminent – the C section! I was booked in for the 21st March and terrified. The day before C-day I’d done the school run, been to the hospital for blood tests, done some chores at home and for once managed to eat some lunch (I had such horrendous heartburn this pregnancy) when I got up and felt a pop. My waters had broken. I was not prepared, he wasn’t meant to be coming until the following day, I had to get my daughter from school shortly and more importantly I hadn’t shaved my legs in preparation for the arrival haha! Anyway he was ready so after a mad dash to the hospital I was gowned up, drugged up and cut up. My beautiful boy was here 4 days before his due date and weighing in at an impressive 11lbs 7oz. Anyone that says c-section is the easy option I can assure you it’s not. I’d rather give birth naturally any day – even to my ginormous offspring. Another week in hospital seeing people come and go but at least this time he was with me on the ward and he was healthy.


In summary it doesn’t matter how they get here so long as they’re okay and you’re okay. Every woman is different and every baby is different so it’s obvious that every birth is going to be different. It ain’t what you do it’s the way that you do it…and that’s what gets results 🎼🎀 You’ve got this ladies! X