Bethany's Baby Babblings

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS I've been broken hearted! POOOOOOOOO since the day you sharted! sorry I'll stop 😂😂😂 I find it's best to face adversity with humour. Even if the humour is embarrassingly bad. Our poor baby girl had caught a very nasty tummy bug last week (which she generously passed onto her mum, dad, grandma, both grandads and auntie - thanks babe) which meant that there was a lot of runny poo. There was so much poo. And when it's that runny it leaks. Everywhere. It actually made me have a full on crying session. We were just so used to her (generally) sleeping in longer chunks so we could sleep in longer chunks. So when we were up every night washing poop off everything and then up again at six washing poop off everything, it just got to me. Then I felt like a knob because it wasn't her fault. And then I started to think about people in developing countries who have to deal with it and I'm here with all the amenities needed to deal with it and I was s...

My depression has really been biting me in the arse this week. I wish the waiting list for the therapy wasn't so bloody long. The bad thoughts have been getting louder and I haven't got the strength to ignore them. (Don't worry I'm not having thoughts of hurting myself or my kiddo. I have had self harming urges in the past and it's really scary but I think my antidepressants have stopped those urges) Basically I've managed to convince myself that my daughter doesn't like me. Even as I'm typing this out I realise how ridiculous that sounds. But my brain is broken and that's what it's doing. Wiggles is always so happy and smiley but recently she's been crying, angry and frustrated, until someone else is with her then she's fine. I know I shouldn't be taking this personally but PND is a bitch and overrides all rational thoughts. Those close to me have comforted me and reasoned with me, saying it's because I'm her mum so sh...

Hello all, guest blogger Kelly today - I asked Beth if I could contribute to her blog as I love reading it and have also recently had a baby myself (but unlike Beth I don't have the IT skills or dedication to create and maintain my own regular blog!).  So about me; if anyone ever asked what I wanted most from life, my response would be to have children and be a mum. I've been really lucky that from a young age I've been able to get plenty of 'mum practice' in; I have a beautiful god-sister whose nappies I've been changing since I was 9, I became a carer and support worker for children with various disabilities over 12 years ago, I've been the original 'panto mother' for as long as i can remember - and of course I'm the only one on a night out who can get totally shitfaced yet be able to administer basic first aid and also remember to take out tape/gauze/tissues/etc to parent the rest of the group! In my professional life I'm a social wor...

This is the face of a parent who was up all night because for some reason scientists haven't invented a cure for teething. The mug is full of extra strong coffee. I wish it was wine. Or gin. Or both. It's proper heartbreaking seeing your kid in pain. She even refused her feeds which was freaky, you know shit is bad when she rejects the milk. Thankfully I had a cracking hubby who helped me out and didn't banish me and monkey from the bedroom (which he could have done cos he had work in the morning) So there was three in the bed last night, which was quite lovely once she'd stopped crying and started sleeping and sleep-farting. Here's to a better night tonight for everyone's sake!

When I went for my psychological assessment to determine whether I needed counselling (spoiler alert: I do), the counsellor (let's call her Barbara) was so lovely, sympathetic and understanding. The main thing that Barbara said that really stuck with me was that "babies cry" To you it may seem obvious but to me it was a bloody revelation. The penny dropped. Babies cry! And that's OK! It's not my job to prevent crying (that would require being able to read my child's mind) but more to try to stop the crying and/or comfort her through the crying. Because, you know, sometimes babies cry for no damn reason. They cry for one reason, you sort it out, then they change their mind and want the opposite and cry again. Eventually they'll stop crying...until they start crying again. Those two words have helped me so much. I mean obviously the post natal depression is still there but it's the second tool in my arsenal to help me combat it. (the first too...

Last night was non-eventful yet also eventful. My daughter spat up milk all over my new Harry Potter pyjamas. They have the Marauders Map on them so mischief was well and truly managed. Especially because it somehow got into my bra. We then had a cute family moment of watching the snow. Well me and Dale watched the snow, madam watched the light fitting. She's obsessed with them. We're hoping it's because she's going to be an interior designer and not because she's going to be as weird as her parents. Miss Fussy Pants then wouldn't settle for love nor money (probably because she's just all about the milk and at this moment in time she didn't want any; therefore sorting her out was guesswork) So to keep her quiet for 10 mins I laid her down on the bed with me. She stared at me. I interpreted this as a challenge to a staring competition. I lost miserably. Turns out babies don't blink very often and it's rather unnerving.