Another world

I’m bringing sexy back!

Rifling through one of my drawers the other morning I stumbled on some items of clothing I hadn’t seen in a number of months. Considering how expensive the collection is you’d think I’d make better use of it. Ribbons, satin and lace in pink, purple, black and red all wrinkled and stuffed way back in a dark corner. There lay all my lingerie. 

Pulling out a few of my favorites I thought longingly of the days when I used to wear matching underwear. When, not only did I Want to wear these but I also had the time to wear them. Gone are those days! Recently I rotate between my black or white cotton maternity bra’s and boy leg undies. If you think I’m kidding the other day I went shopping for underwear and came home with 6 pairs of black cottons. Hubby was appalled! I’m sure he was hoping for something a little more lacey. I showed him the little satin ribbon on the tops of them but he wasn’t very impressed ;) 

So being the good wife that I am I decided a little spice was in order and I took out a little red number that Hubby adored and tucked away for use later in the evening. I felt a little thrill thinking about how surprised he’d be. 

The day wore on, filled with nappies and play ttime, naps and burps. Stitch was feeling 

Particularly playful so I didn’t get much done. By the time supper rolled around all I could manage was toasted sandwiches. Then it was bath time and Stitch was in bed after which I was able to bath and do some odds and ends around the house. I collapsed into bed and slipped right into lala land. 

1 nappie feed, 2 feeds, and a little bit of vomit later I found myself back in my cupboard looking for a nightie that didn’t smell of sour milk. In my sleepy state I randomly pull something out and what do I find? My little red number! I look at it and then I look at the time and then at my stinky nighty. Ag, who cares, it’s clean at least! 

I slip it on, get into bed and promptly fall right back to sleep. Sexy will have to wait for another day, tonight I’m a mom! 

To eat or not to eat, that is the question!

It was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. Layers of the lightest and fluffiest cream nestled between and thicky and rick chocolate ganache all sandwiched between airy pieces of pastry. Mmmm… heaven on my tongue. what could be better than sinking your teeth into that? I can even see the powdered sugar dusty my fingers and lips. Yum! But wait, no! I can’t touch it, I have to put it down. It calls my name and I have to bitterly turn away and get out sight. Good bye Perfect Pastry, may we meet another day day, a day that is not Diet day! 

Ha! Story of my life. Ever that constant battle that rages in my head. To eat or not to eat? What’s a little pastry going to do you may ask? Couple that with the bacon and eggs I promised myself I’d forgoe plus the cappuccino and cream I had in that meeting And the Alfredo at lunch time all makes for a gazillion calories I can do without. Every day it’s the same thing. Sometimes I win but most often I lose. Why, tell me why, is it so hard to resist a good morsel? Why is it so hard to lose weight! And why do I love everything that’s bad for me? 

For as long as I can remember I’ve been fighting this battle. Sometimes I don’t even notice it because it’s part of my life. I wished for a day when I could eat anything I want, stress and guilt free without worrying about the consequences. It seemed like a pipe dream. Until now that is…

Ladies, I’m sure plenty of you know this but it’s such a well kept secret it blew my mind. Do you wana know how I’ve lost 13kgs in 6 weeks? I bet you’re dying to know. It’s a little thing called… wait for it… wait for it… Breastfeeding! Bam! I kid you not! 

For the first time in my life I have been able to eat anything I want and not worry about piling on the weight. It’s a beautiful feeling. I’m not sure how long it’ll last but I’m going to cherish every moment. I eat almost as much as my husband these days! Granted, most of the day passes without me finding time to eat but when I do get a change I sure do enjoy it baby! Give Me That Pastry! Cappuccino with cream? Yes please! Is that pasta, the good ol fashioned kind? I’ll have a helping of that. Oooh, is that fresh bread I smell? I’ll eats me some of that! 

And I have my little bundle of joy to thank for this. Not only do I drink about 5 litres of water a day but my skin looks perfect, my hair looks like I’ve walked out of a Tresamme advert and that skinny jeans that I bought 2 years ago finally fits! Can things get any better? 

And the best part? Breastfeeding is the best thing ever for my baby! Win-win! 

There’s a little black dress in my cupboard that’s been waiting years to be used. Look out world, I’m lactating and loving it! 

And so it begins…

There are rare times I’m one’s life where you know, without any doubt, that your life is about to change. It could be something small, a phone call, a feeling, a comment made by a stranger but whatever it is, you that everything is about to change. I felt that feeling when I walked into ICU and looked at all the incubators and all the little human beings fighting for their lives. 

My husband led me to Stitch and as I stared down at him I broke down. There was the little fuzz bucket that I ad been feeling in me for the past few months. He was the centre of my world for so long and I hadn’t even held him. How could this have happened to us? What did I do wrong? Was there something I should’ve done differently? It was unfair that my fragile little boy had to suffer like this when he was barely part of the world. He was innocent and there he lay, tubes coming out of his nose, drips stuck into his chubby thighs and his little rib cage pumping up and down. I hadn’t even held him yet! 

The next few days past in a blur. I was taken from my hospital to his once a day to see him. I couldn’t manage for long because of my op. I was in a lot of pain and still in shock. Here I was, feeling empty and useless and I didn’t have my baby with me. It was terrible. Lucky every trip to the hospital brought good news. Stitch was a fighter. It took three nurses to hold him down to put in all his drips so nothing was gona stop him from getting better! By day 5 we were told that he was going to come home the next day. He was breathing on his own and his was breastfeeding beautifully! Nothing was keeping him down. 

Hubby and I brought him home on the 5th of February and I wouldn’t put him down for the rest of the afternoon! Having home and on my arms was the scariest feeling but as long as he was with us I could tackle anything. At least that’s what I kept telling myself… 

Those first few days were he’ll. I stayed awake constantly worried about him. He was making a raspy noise while breathing that concerned me but the paed had assured me that he was perfectly ready to go home so I just had to trust that and just relax. Easier said than done! The worst was over, right? Wrong! 

Ready, set, Go!

Driving to the hospital felt a little bit surreal, like I was watching a movie and it was in slow motion. I knew something big was about to happen but my brain couldn’t fathom the hugeness of it all. When we got there it was like checking into a hotel. We were shown in a room with a king size bed, a huge bath and ensuite with a two man shower. Very luxurious and not at all clinical. I got settled and at 12:00 that night it all began… 

The first load of meds were administered at 8 by the mid wife on duty. I was to rest on the bed for the first few hours while they occasionally monitored Stitch. If the meds were going to work it’d take about 6 hours. I starting feeling pains about an hour in but I didn’t actually identify them as contractions. Hubby and I dosed and I kept waiting for Something to happen. 

At around 6 my mid wife decided to administer another dose and that meant another 6 hours of waiting. I sent Hubby home to shower and get breakfast while I took a nap. 15 mins later I felt pain, real, horrible pain. I had to breathe through it but it was the wrong kind of pain. Surely contractions didn’t feel this severe so quickly? I just didn’t feel right. The midwife checked baby and his heart rate was slow. I started doing exercises and drinking coke and coffee to get him moving again. 

Half an hour later I was convinced that something was wrong. The pain was excruciating. I was beyond breathing and was starting to make high pitched noises, not quite screams tho. I called for the mid wife and told her something was wrong. She tried convincing me that I was in labour and that these were how contractions felt but I was adamant. She did another check, Stitch was showing almost no movement. She gave me a look that scared the crap out of me and if I wasn’t so busy trying not to scream I would have probably started shrieking. I had to have an emergency c-section. And just like that my world turned upside down. 

I stood leaning against the cool glass of the balcony doors while she scuttled about calling the gynae and whoever else was needed. I vaguely heard the news reporter on the radio say something about traffic being a mess because of the rain and how parts of JHB was flooded. I called Hubby and told him he needed to get there Now. Lucky he was already on his way. 

At 9 that morning I was taken to the theatre and prepped for surgery. My contractions were now one on top of the other and I had no relief from the pain. My head was pounding and I felt like the tummy was gona pop. My muscles were about to explode and the nurses had to hold my hands to prevent me from bucking and tossing my body. and through all that I kep thinking that I couldn’t feel my baby moving. 

They began the surgery and I kept thinking how strange and numb I felt and how completely exposed I was. Hubby was chatting to the nurses and everyone was bantering back and forth and it all sounded so fake. The anesthesiologist kept telling me to calm down and that my heart rate was too high. Someone mentioned something about blood loss. 

And then I felt someone pushing against my tummy and I heard the doc say that it was 10:03 and I had delivered a baby boy. I waited for them to bring him to me, I wanted to see him and touch him and love him but I couldn’t move and they took him away. Why did they take him away? Alarm bells were shrieking in my head. He wasn’t crying either and I could hear some hushed voices somewhere across the room. I was telling Hubby something was wrong, he needed to find out what. Minutes went by and eventually they called him to see his son. 

I felt like I was slipping into a deep sleep and everything became muted and far of. The stupid anesthesiologist kept calling me and wouldn’t let me rest. I briefly remember seeing my wrapped up baby and giving him a quick kiss before they took him away again. I think I passed out, quite a few times actually. And then I was being wheeled back to my room. I still hadn’t touch my baby. 

Hubby walked into the room and his eyes were filled with tears. Stitch was in distress. He had swallowed too much meconium and they had him on an incubator to help him breathe. He was being taken to ICU to a nearby hospital as they were better equipped to deal with him. The ambulance was on their way. He was fighting for his life. 

At first I didn’t understand what they meant. Meconium? His first poop was accidentally loosed in the amniotic fluid and he swallowed it and it covered his skin and lungs. Why were they taking him away? I hadn’t even seen him! They then took my bed to him and I finally understood. There lay my tiny baby boy, surrounded by nurses and his little body was filled with pipes and needles connected to all types of machinery. His little rib cage pressed up and down and his hand and feet were being held down by a nurse. His pulse rate was too high and the sedatives weren’t working, he kept pulling things out. I lay there absolutely numb watching my son fight for his life. And my heart broke over and over and over again. 

Eventually the ambulance got there and after sedating him 3 times he was taken away. Hubby had to go with him to make sure everything was in order. I was taken back ti my room and forgotten about. I lay there, unable to move with a sheet draped over my body and not a stitch of clothes under. I was cold, scared and panicking. 

A few minutes later a nurse came in to tell me that he was going to be alright. His vital signs improved almost immediately and he was out of the red. Finally! I could breath again! She then went on to explain a whole of stuff that in my drugged state I couldn’t understand but basically I was in a pretty bad shape as well, loss of blood, high pulse rate, blah blah blah. I didn’t care, my baby was going to be ok. On 31 January at 10:03 I became a mother. 

Pre-labour adventures

Ever try to push your stomach right out to see how far it could go? No? We’ll try it, right now. It’s uncomfortable right? Couple that feeling with back ache and that’s pretty much how pregnancy feels. Being pregnant feels like losing your mind while eating the best tasting chocolate you’ll ever have on a roller coaster that does 20 flips and takes you up into the clouds where you feel the rush of the wind blowing through your hair and scaring the crap out of you at the same time! That’s what it felt like for me anyway… 

So my due date was the 29th of Jan. By the 26th of Dec my gynae told me to be ready at anytime. Our little bundle, Stitch as I like to call him, was ready to go. His position was perfect and so was his weight. My body was also starting to prepare itself for his arrival. I was feeling optimistic because by then I was pretty tired of being pregnant. I had gone from comfortable and glowing to huge and hot and grumpy. 

At 38 weeks by mid wife kept telling me ‘Any day now.’ I spent hours on Google checking out signs of labour and for tips on how to jump start the labour process. My husband actually scolded my once and made me promise to calm down. I was literally getting bigger everyday. Stitch was moving a lot so I was enjoying feeling him and his company made everything else ok but I could feel him get more and more crowded. My ribs got jabbed every other minute of the day and there were times where I could actually see him moving if I looked at my tummy. 

By 38 weeks, mid Jan, I had stopped sleeping and I lost my appetite. My tummy was still growing but I was losing weight. I was showing symptoms of going into labour but I learnt that prelabour literally could takes hours, days or weeks. I had a bit of false contractions and I just got more and more frustrated, I wanted it over with, I wanted this baby out already!

I had chosen to go the all natural route. There’s a maternity hospital on Rosebank that caters for women who’d prefer to have drug free births. I had a gynae but mostly I was looked after my a mid wife. This option has its pro’s and cons and the biggest down side is that you don’t have regular scans so we didn’t know how big baby was getting. The gynae estimated he’d be born at 3.2 kgs so I figured I was probably just being a drama queen and needed to stick it out. 

My dude date arrived and no baby yet. By this time I was ready to give him an eviction notice but my mid wife said that nothing can be done till at least 42 weeks. The thought of waiting 2 more weeks made my wants to throw myself on the bed and cry hysterically. Why wouldn’t it end?!

Then one morning I woke up and I was unsettled. Another sleepless night had passed but this time I barely felt Stitch move. By this time I was used to his little kicks and punches. I knew when he was asleep or awake. So I knew that this wasn’t normal. I had been experiencing nausea and diarrhea for a few days so I worried that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. By this time the midwife had suggested an induction for a week after my due date but that was a long time to wait. 

I messaged her to tell her about ny worries and she sends me a msg back to say she doesn’t know what to do with me! First I complain about the vomiting and now this. She goes on to say that if I want to be induced i’ll just have to wait. I lost it a bit with her. I’m worried about my baby and I’m looking for advice and she’s lecturing me about this crap! I took matters into my own hands and booked a scan for the same afternoon.

The scan showed him still moving and having a strong heart beat but he had very little amniotic fluid and his weight was around 3.4 kgs. I phoned the mid wife who spoke to my gynae and he agreed that if I was worried they’d push the induction up to two days later. I was definitely relieved. 

Soon all of this would be over and I’d be lying with my beautiful baby boy in my arms. I envisioned a contented me looking lovingly down while he suckled at my breast with my husband proudly and protectively standing next to us. I definitely read way too much fantasy!! But the end of my pregnancy was at hand and labour was about to begin…


To Be Continued… 




Catch Up

So here I am, in my cosy little flat on a sunday afternoon and it seems like I’ve emerged from a fog. A fog that’s lasted 4 months! There’s a humidifier slowly humming next to me, I think I’m sitting on a bottle of Infant panado drops, on my side table is an assortment of ointments, medications and bum creams. Oh yes, and I’ve got a 6 week old little boy sleeping on my shoulder! 


Talk about change! I can’t remember when I last blogged but it must have been before I went on maternity leave. I’ve been on a life changing roller coaster of a journey since then so I’ve got a lot to say. I’ll have to spread it out since I very rarely get free time to do anything but I’m definitely going to try my best to blog, I need to get all these pent up feelings out somehow! Lucky I can blog on my phone now! 


I hope all my adoring fans (ha ha ha ha, i’ve become delusional as well!) are all ok. I’ve missed this community but now that I’m becoming human again i’ll catch up with everyone and start interacting again. 


I may not always comment but I’m definitely reading! Look out world, here I come! (albeit very slowly) ;) 

Ke December boos!

There is no better feeling in the world than switching of your alarm and knowing that you won’t have to use again till next year! Who’s with me? This morning I woke up feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed because I knew that this is my last working day for the year. Our company shuts down till Jan so I have two weeks of bliss. Two weeks of not having to wake up at 5:00 and face my wardrobe because none of my clothes fit me anymore! Two weeks of not having to waddle around the office, trying to keep my sh!t together and stay on top of things. Two weeks of not having to be on the roads during peak hour traffic and getting frustrated when it rains or irritated when the robots are out. Two blissful weeks of just ‘being’. Sigh. Doesn’t that sound like heaven?

Normally at this time of year I’d be planning lots of braai’s and parties. I’d have my Christmas menu sorted and my New Year’s Eve party guest list on the roll. I’d be having lunches and drinks and supper with all my friends and thoroughly enjoying myself. This year however will be drastically different. The thought of even having to bath makes me tired let alone getting dressed to go out! I can just imagine waddling about in the malls with all the crowds and trying to find tables to sit and standing in ques and it all makes me wana throw up.

I am a bit envious of everyone going on holiday and posting pictures of their cocktails and shooters and parties. I’m a sociable person by nature so the fact that I’ll be home bound for the whole of December is a bit depressing. Hubby is working and since I can’t drive I’ll have to rely on my kindle for company. I suppose I just need to keep reminding myself of the end result, a bouncing baby Beetlejuice!

I’m just happy that I can waffle about at home, cook nonsense and not have to think, thinking is getting very difficult these days! I just hope that come 2 Jan, when I have to be back at work, I’ll be able to start thinking again! I have to be at work till the 10th of Jan, which is my last working day till I commence my maternity leave. I have no idea how I’m gona manage that but I can just take it easy.

Hopefully the elusive ‘nest’ syndrome will take over and I’ll clean up the house a bit. I hear some women get a bout of energy which they use to prepare their home for the new addition. I don’t see this happening but you never know. Lol

Anyway, to everyone who is going on leave, please be safe and have a wonderful festive season. To those who are working, you have my sympathies!

Family Ties

Seeing as it’s the season to be jolly I thought I’d write a post about family and My family specifically, who are really getting on my nerves recently. What better way to remind myself why I love them than by blogging about how awesome they are?

So I am the youngest of 3 sisters. There’s a 6 and 12 year gap between myself and my sisters so I’ve literally always been the ‘baby’ of the family. And yes, I’m spoilt ;). As with all siblings my sisters and I never saw eye to eye for a very long time. Both of them stayed with my grandparents so for the first half of my life I was an only child! Then both of them finished school and came home to study and tore my world apart lol. Having three 3 teenagers in the house was not easy and I felt sorry for my poor dad!

I remember many a Saturday morning where we’d wake up late and laze in bed talking, laughing and teasing each other. In between there’d be little wrestling matches and scuffles. Two of us would gang up on another, pin her down and pull down her pajama bottoms! Ha ha ha either that would send us of into a fight or a fit of laughter. Then we’d all wake up and go squeeze in by my parents. At the time I didn’t fully appreciate how much those moments would come to mean to me.

Eventually we grew out of that though and as we all became adults or relationship started changing. We were able to bond because the age gap didn’t make such a big difference anymore. All three of us got married and my sisters had kids and all the husbands get on famously which made things even easier. In recent years my sisters have become my rock.

At the same time my relationship with my parents were also changing and things smoothed out a bit. We still have our tiffs, especially my mum and I but I finally understand them and their actions a bit more now.

As much as we get on each other’s nerves I can finally appreciate the fact that no matter what’s going on in my life I always have someone to turn to if I need help. Aside from my husband they are my ‘go-to’ people. You know, whenever something happens, good or bad, they are the first ones I call. Whether I need to cry or share exciting news or just moan I can call either of my sisters or my mum and I’ll always have them listen. If I’m in trouble they’d come to the rescue and if I need direction I can go to them to steer me the right way.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that even though we have a difference of a opinions and we argue a lot that shouldn’t affect how we feel about each other. Family should always be able to depend on each other and I want mine to feel that way about me.

Now that Beetlejuice is on the way my family have been there for me more than ever before. I’ve had three experienced ears to talk to and three shoulders to cry on. They’ve helped us out both emotionally and financially. And I think it’s because of them that I’m not as stressed as I could’ve have been. It’s been so reassuring having them around and even though we look at pregnancy and labour differently at the end of the day we’re all just trying to make sure that Beetlejuice is ok. And that’s what family is about.

Jingel bells

It’s that time of the year again. The malls are playing Christmas carols and decorated brightly with tinsel and Christmas baubles. The sales have already started and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. Year end functions have started and people in every industry are throwing away their reputations from all the free booze provided. People are starting to look up and wonder where the year went

I for one absolutely love this time of the year. I hate the shopping and how full the malls are but I love that feeling of joy in the air. There’s so much to look forward to. For those that have had a bad year you can put the year behind you and look forward to a fresh start. If it was a good year you can reflect on all the events of the year and hope that the upcoming one will be even better.

When I look back at the year it’s been one full of up’s and downs. I lost my job in Feb and I was at home for 5 months trying to find another one. Ironically enough it was during this period that I fell pregnant. I finally found a temp job and a week into the new job I found out that I was expecting, and I was already 14 weeks along! Lucky they made me permanent even though I wouldn’t be here for very long till I go on maternity leave. Then I received another blow in terms of salary, getting paid a lot less than I was used to meant that we can’t get a bigger car or bigger place. That brought on a whole new train of stress. The upside though, has been that I’ve had a perfectly healthy pregnancy and that I have a job to come back to. The down side is that we’re going to be in a lot of debt for the next few years.

Next year I’m looking forward to meeting my son and settling into motherhood. We’ll have to make our finances work for us and live as best as possible. Things will be a bit tight but we have so much to be thankful for. I’m just hoping that next year is a more stable year than this one was!

In other news Beetlejuice is now 1.5 kgs. I went for a check up and a scan on Saturday and all is well with both of us. He wasn’t feeling very sociable for the scan so the best we could get was a picture with him giving us a big fat yawn. Lol I have only picked up 2 kgs in 5 weeks, awesome news! Hopefully my weight gain doesn’t increase too much in this last trimester.

My sisters threw me a baby shower on Saturday and that was fun. I received lots of clothes for baby, he’ll be dressing well at least. He he he It was nice to see how many people are invested in the happiness of Beetlejuice. And that’s another reason why this time is of the year is so significant right now. It’ll be our last Christmas before our lives change dramatically and there’s a lot of planning and reflecting to do.

 Years from now I’ll look back at December 2013 and remember how it felt to be on the brink of something big and powerful.

Family ties

Family: you can’t live with them, you can’t shoot them either. I’m not sure if its pregnancy hormones but recently my family has been getting on my nerves. I’ve got two older sisters, both married with kids and then there’s my parents. We’re all pretty close and I really do love them dearly. I can always turn to them for help, they’re supportive and I sometimes wonder what I’d do without them.


There are other times however, when I wonder why I love them so much. I suppose you can’t expect four women to get along all the time but surely we can see eye to eye on most things? My eldest sister in particular clashes a lot with the rest of us. She’s a good 12 years older than me and is convinced that she’s always right. Granted, she does have more experience than me and I do take her advice but surely I’m allowed to make my own choices?

The current bone of contention is the way I choose to ‘conduct’ my pregnancy and labour. I’ve opted to go the midwife route instead of the more traditional method of going to a gynae. I’ve also chosen to give birth at a maternity hospital in Rosebank instead of one of the other standard hospitals. So I go to a midwife every month and only see the gynae once a trimester. I get my scans done whenever I want or need one. For the labour itself, my midwife will be there throughout while the gynae is on call for an emergency.

The idea is that with a midwife and maternity hospital the mother has more of a choice on how she’d like her labour to go. A birth plan is put into place and the midwife and staff are made aware of these plans (drugs vs no drugs, epidural, skin to skin contact with the baby, etc). The chances of having a natural birth (instead of c-section) are much higher than in a hospital. The mother also has more options in terms of how she wants her labour to go. At the maternity hospital you can use the shower, the tub, walk around, play some music, eat and have as many people around you as you want. You can also give birth in any position that you want which is less restrictive than a normal hospital (on your back in theatre).

Now, the practice of a midwife isn’t new, it’s ancient but it’s just not commonly practiced in SA. And my sister is afraid of anything that is not ‘norma’. She went to her gynae, chose the day and date that her son was to be born and went home the next day. She felt safe and secure because spontaneity isn’t her thing. I have different views, I’ve done my research and I’d like things to go a little differently but my choices are now making her uncomfortable. She’s convinced that there’s something wrong with Beetlejuice that isn’t being picked up because I’m seeing a mid wife and not my gynae.

She suffered from blood pressure issues as well as gestational diabetes and she’s convinced that I should be going through the same thing. It’s almost as if because everything has progressed so easily for me there Must be something wrong. She thinks that my midwife doesn’t know what she’s doing and it’s irritating the hell out of me because it’s undermining my choices. And I don’t know how to stop her from getting to me. She has admitted that it’s my choice but in the same breathe she tells me it’s a wrong choice. I can’t help it, I get upset when we speak about it.

And then there’s my mother. We have a bit of a difficult relationship. We always argue and she also disagrees with a lot of my choices. But she doesn’t tell me this, I hear about it via my sisters. I’ve offered her and my sisters a chance to come with me to my next visit so that they can see the hospital, meet the staff and check out the facilities for their own peace of mind but they keep giving me excuses. My mum says that she’s ‘uncomfortable’ with the thought of the hospital, she’s worried that something will happen to me. My other sister says it’s too far for her drive. At least my other sister hasn’t had anything negative to say but neither has she been very supportive.

In every other way they’ve been supportive. They pitch up every weekend with stuff me or Hubby or Beetlejuice. They’re buying us all the big things that we need for him, like the cot, cars seats, pram, strollers, baby monitors, etc. I can call them at any time if I need advice or reassurance and they calm down (most of the time) and have constantly told me that they’ll help us out while I’m on unpaid leave.

With all of this, am I being too sensitive with how they feel about the midwife/hospital thing? Of course I can’t expect them to agree with me but at least do your research and see why I think the way I do? Or at least what’s motivating my decision. Or should I just accept the way they feel and move on. It’s getting so frustrating that I’m contemplating lying to them. Instead of telling them I’m seeing my midwife I’ll just say I’m going to see they gynae instead. I certainly won’t want to tell them if anything goes wrong!

I guess it’s important to me that I don’t feel alone in this situation. Hubby and I need support and I feel like I’m not getting it. On the other hand I am extremely emotional and I usually go ahead and do what I want anyway so there should be no reason why this affects me so much.


Arrrggghhhh!!!! I hate this emotional rollercoaster!

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Kat and her Blog

A day in the life of me, Kat, a sub-editor and lover of life, my family, movies, photography and music.


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