Two Visitors!

We had two visitors today; a lady from Home Start came to review our situation with D, and a nursery nurse came to chat about S’s sleeping and eating.

B is the Home Start co-ordinator for the area, and the person who “matched” D to us a couple of months ago. She came back to do a review, which they do periodically to check everything is ok, the volunteer is being useful/helpful and still needed, and that everything is ok. They do a lot of paperwork. S was busy playing with her toys when B got here, but soon decided she’d rather be part of the conversation so came and sat on my lap playing with a book while we chatted. B wanted to know how things were going with D, so I told her the truth: I look forward to her visits but worry that she must feel she’s wasting her morning, since all she does is drink coffee and play with S while I make a couple of phone calls and maybe do the washing up. B said no, that’s what a lot of her volunteers do and they come round to be company and reliable as much as to help with practical things. She had a good old chat with S, and held her while I filled out a questionnaire. It was one of those ones where there’s a statement and you ring a number from 1 to 5 for how positive you feel about it. I did one before D started coming, and despite the fact S has given up sleeping, the house is a mess and my bad hair day has lasted 2 months, my scores have improved. It reminded me of the depression questionnaire my GP makes me do every now and then: they ask you a bunch of questions, tot up your score and tell you how you’re doing at life. I suppose they have to do something to justify their work though, and show they’re being effective. She marked down on her paperwork that the “goals” we set when she first came (I don’t remember them, but hey ho) are “partially achieved” so that there is a reason for D to keep coming, which was nice because I enjoy her visits and think it’s good for S to have someone constant and reliable in her life. D turns up every Wednesday at 10:30, she’s always in the same chipper mood, she always smiles and plays with S, and gives me good advice for my myriad problems. Of course, we have other visitors and S sees other people, but I think D is the only one who has a set day and time that we stick to every week.

B saw my nice pile of fluffy clean nappies (I’d just done a load of washing and stacked them neatly in the corner) and commented that I’m her ideal mother. Then she asked if I was breastfeeding still, and we had a conversation about how more people should do it because it’s best for baby (in most cases) and easiest. She told me she complained to the Advertising Standards Agency about a Cow & Gate advert because she felt it was promoting the use of formula over breast milk. The ad is amazing, but she has a good point. It was refreshing to meet someone who seems to have the same views as me. B is a single mother herself, so she understands why it’s so important for us to have D visit once a week, even if she’s only there as someone to chat to. She doesn’t need to be told about how difficult it is to keep up with housework and everything else when you’re the only person there to look after a baby, and you’re hell bent on doing not just a good job but the best job possible. She got on really well with S and told me she thinks I’m a great mother – which is always good to hear! My feedback will be passed on to D as well, which is nice because when asked how things were going I looked at her and said “the woman is a legend, I really look forward to Wednesday mornings!”

Once B had gone, I just had time to put together a lamb casserole and stick it in the oven (from scratch, with no packet mix, get me!) when C, the nursery nurse, came to visit. She was sent to see us after I called the health visitor begging for some help with the sleep situation, and came last week to discuss weaning and sleep plans. This week she came back to see how we were getting on. The truth is that S is still not sleeping fantastically, but her naps have been improving, and it’s just the hours between 6 and 10pm that are a problem now. Also I think my attitude to the situation has improved as well, in that I’m less bothered by it and more inclined to just take the time to get her settled to sleep even if it takes two hours. Hopefully the fact she’s eating lots more will help her to sleep more too. S sat in her bouncy chair and had a nonsense conversation with C, which they both enjoyed. She also showed off her mad skillz at bouncing the chair with one leg whilst casually slouching in it like a teenager. I have absolutely no clue what I will do with her when she finally gets too big for that chair! We discussed the local children’s centre, and she left a leaflet with me, suggesting I go to their baby group and also that I could go to the breastfeeding group to be support for new mums. At first I laughed at the idea I could offer advice to anyone, since I still spend a lot of my time feeling completely out of my depth. But even I can see that I’ve come a really long way and since I feel so strongly about breastfeeding I’d like to be able to share that. I might even take S to the baby group to make some friends!

I chatted to C about being a single mother, and how in the evenings once S is asleep I will creep downstairs for my tea. I often sit on the sofa, shovelling food into my mouth as quickly as I can because if S wakes while I’m eating I can’t afford to just throw food away, but I also can’t leave her to cry, and it’s times like that I really don’t enjoy the fact I’m doing this on my own. She seemed to understand what I was talking about, but also pointed out that as it’s just the two of us, we can do as we please, go where we want, eat when we want, and don’t have to follow anyone else’s schedule.

So there we are: one day, two visitors, one inflated ego. Having had two professional people who know what they’re doing tell me they think I’m doing a good job, and that S is doing really well, has made me feel a lot better. On the nights where S is not at all interested in sleeping, and I’m knackered and desperate for the loo but she cries every time I leave the room, I tend to have an attack of “omg, I’m rubbish at this, he was right, I can’t do it on my own, S is going to grow up damaged because of meeeeeeee…” it’s nice to have someone who knows what they’re talking about, and sees this sort of situation all the time, tell me I’m doing ok.

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Things They Don't Tell You About Breastfeeding

This post deals with all the things nobody really seems to mention about breastfeeding, until they happen or you ask. If you are not breastfeeding, or do not intend to breastfeed, that is entirely your choice, and this post is not intended as a way of judging that decision. 

My view is that breast is best, and I feel very strongly that all babies should get that benefit whenever possible. Please feel free to skip this post if it is not relevant to you.

The current World Health Organisation recommendation is exclusive breastfeeding for at least the first 6 months. Some people don’t agree with this and do things differently, and they are completely within their rights to do whatever they choose – mum always knows what is best for her baby. That said, I do feel a lot of women give up breastfeeding early because they don’t have enough information on it. So here is some information.

• Breastfeeding is better for baby than formula. This is not a debatable point; all scientists etc agree. It has benefits for mother and baby alike, including protecting you against cancer, and passing on your immunities to your baby. It also helps you to create a bond with your child unlike any other.

• If you decide you want to breastfeed your baby, try to read up about it a bit beforehand so that you are prepared. Although it is “the most natural thing in the world,” a lot of babies will have trouble latching on. And it hurts like buggery to start with. It doesn’t mean you’re rubbish or not cut out for this sort of thing or whatever else. Expect every single member of the ward staff to come in and offer you advice, and probably grab your boob as you try to feed as well. You will lose all modesty where your boobs are concerned.

• If you are planning to breastfeed, I cannot shout loudly enough that you should buy some Lansinoh lanolin cream. It’s a little purple tube and it costs about £12, which seems extortionate, and you may be tempted to think you can do without something that’s so expensive. And then, three weeks into breastfeeding when you’re crying out in pain every time your little bundle latches on, you’ll be prepared to pay ten times that amount for one of those little purple tubes. Incidentally, Lansinoh cream is magic and works wonders on just about every kind of skin ailment. It is the work of the gods, I tells ye.

• It would also be prudent to purchase nursing pads, as boobs tend to leak a lot, especially in the early days. There are a lot of different ones out there, and it’s down to personal preference, but I found the Lansinoh ones were the best. And they actually stick to the inside of your bra properly so that you don’t lose them or find them floating about your neckline mid-afternoon.

• One thing nobody tells you (I wasn’t aware until I started researching this post) is that it’s recommended to feed your baby within the first 6 hours, so as to establish your milk ducts to their full potential. Don’t panic if you can’t though; it’s not the end of the world, just useful to know so that you can at least try.

• If you’re breastfeeding exclusively, you just kind of have to accept that your life is not your own for the next however-many months. A breastfed baby will need to be fed more frequently than a formula-fed one, and will not sleep through the night (unless you are very, very lucky). This is because breast milk is so efficient, it fills your baby’s stomach, and is then used up very quickly. Formula will sit in their stomach for a while before it is used up, meaning baby doesn’t get hungry and wake up.

• No matter what anyone tries to tell you, if your baby is exclusively breastfed, it really can be exclusively breastfed. You don’t need to feed baby cooled boiled water or juice or anything else. If the weather is hot, your boobs will know about it, and your milk becomes more dilute so as to be more thirst quenching. When your baby goes through a growth spurt and begins to feed every half-hour, that doesn’t mean your milk is not enough and you need to get some formula or baby rice. Your boobs notice the baby is feeding more frequently, and increase your supply, so within a day or so, there’s more milk with more calories there for the first feed, and baby doesn’t get hungry again for a few hours.

• There is no food or drink known to man that is as nutritious and calorific as breast milk. Even when baby starts solids, it will still be getting most of its sustenance from your milk until solids are properly established, around a year old.

• Your boobs are magic. They work on a “demand and supply” principle, meaning that if your baby feeds regularly, your boobs will increase their milk production to accommodate that. Unfortunately, this does mean that you can’t “cheat” by expressing milk for someone else to feed baby while you take a nap. Your boobs can’t tell the difference between a pump and a baby, and will just assume the demand has increased. You are likely to be woken by full, engorged boobs waiting for a baby to feed.

• If you have problems establishing breastfeeding – and you most probably will (everyone does), don’t give up just yet! Find out where your nearest Children’s Centre is (your health visitor can tell you) and go to a breastfeeding support group. It sounds odd, and it kind of is – but you can usually guarantee a cup of tea or coffee, a room full of mums in the same position as you, and some experienced helpers with boatloads of advice and support. When I went there was even jam on toast.

• Regarding breastfeeding in public – this is now covered under anti-discrimination law, and staff/proprietors cannot legally ask you to leave or not to breastfeed in their establishment. A lot of women prefer to wear a scarf or something else to protect their modesty, but apparently you don’t actually have to. I’ve never tested that theory though.

• Some women have a particularly fast letdown, and when their little one latches on it can come too quickly and make them gag. There are a lot of different ways to deal with this, so if you find you have this issue, it’s probably best to speak to your health visitor or midwife. Some tactics include changing the way you hold the baby, frequent burping, more frequent feeding, or hand-expressing until the flow slows down.

• One thing I wasn’t aware of before I had a baby and actually thought about it – there is more than one position for breastfeeding. On TV and what have you, you tend to see a woman holding the baby across her chest – but many women find it easier and more comfortable to feed baby whilst holding baby under her arm (like a rugby ball), or (my personal favourite for night-time feeding) laying down. As long as the baby is getting milk and is comfortable, it really doesn’t matter how you’re holding them. When they get older, they will choose their own position, often with one hand grabbing at your clothes, or (S’s personal favourite) clawing at your mouth and throat.

• Regarding feeding positions – bear in mind that you will be doing this several times a day, potentially for the better part of a year. Sometimes, especially in the early days, baby can feed for 45 minutes or more at a time. It’s important therefore, that you are sitting comfortably and not leaning or straining. Use a lot of pillows to prop yourself and baby into a comfortable position. Your back will thank you.

• Something I wish I’d been told (perhaps I was told, but I wish someone had told me it every day for the first month) is that breastfeeding can take 6 weeks to establish. A lot of women try their level best at it, and give up after a few weeks because they find it so hard, not realising that if they’d just hung on in there a couple more weeks things would have become a whole lot easier. I you intend to breastfeed, it’s best to just give your life up to it for the first 6 weeks and accept that you won’t be doing much else but getting used to it. If you need to, switch the phone off, lock the doors, and just sleep whenever the baby does. This phase doesn’t last forever, I promise.

• Until breastfeeding is established, it is weird, uncomfortable, exhausting, time-consuming and completely alien. I was imagining giving birth to a baby and feeding it straight away and everything being peachy. It doesn’t happen like that (unless you are very lucky). It does hurt to start with, your nipples do get sore, you do wonder what the hell is going on. In order to get your milk supply up, your baby does spend a lot of time feeding. I remember a good few evenings where I was literally stuck to the couch from 6pm to 10pm with barely enough time for a toilet break between feeds. I was at a loss until someone explained it’s normal, everyone goes through it, and it doesn’t last forever.

• Once you get through the initial bedding-in stage, breastfeeding really is the lazy person’s option. No sterilising, no panic if you’ve forgotten to buy formula in this week’s shop, no getting up to warm a bottle and checking it’s the right temperature while your baby screams in your arms, no having to remember to take a bottle if you go out, perhaps two or three if you’re out for a while. Baby’s hungry? Find somewhere to sit, and open your shirt. You don’t even necessarily need to find somewhere to sit; I know a lot of women who breastfeed with their baby in a sling, while they carry on with their day. The most difficult part of breastfeeding is finding clothes to accommodate your boobs whilst allowing easy access.

• Breast milk is magic. Not only does it have the exact right nutrients in the exact right amounts to feed a growing baby, changing as the baby develops, it is also good for minor first aid. (bear with me on this, I know it sounds a bit odd). You know when your baby scratches her face with the nails you forgot to cut, and you feel like the world’s worst mother? Spread a little expressed milk on it, and it will be gone in no time. It can be used in ears to protect against an ear infection when baby has a cold, on nappy rash, eczema, mosquito bites, grazes, rashes, you name it. It is also good on acne, adult or infant.

• If you breastfeed exclusively, it can delay the start of your period. This can last anything from the first couple of months right up to a year of age, perhaps even longer. An added bonus for those of us who really don’t enjoy such things (is there anyone who does?)

• The down side of breastfeeding is that you can’t get someone else to do it for you, while you go and have fun (or sleep). The up side is that you get to sit and cuddle your baby several times a day. It’s not something you can do whilst doing the washing up, cooking the tea, ironing hubby’s work shirt or much else except watch TV and have a little drink. Make the most of having a cast iron excuse to sit down and have a break.

• When babies are very small, you have to hold them in position and help them latch on and make sure your arm doesn’t drop or they fall away from the boob and get upset that their food supply has disappeared. When they’re bigger, you just point them in the vague direction of your boob, and they sort themselves out. S is 6 months old now, and pretty much starts to undress me when she gets hungry these days.

• Another thing breastfed babies do when they’re older is use feeding time as a time to practise things like grabbing, raspberry blowing, poking, and other loveliness. Just recently during night feeds S had taken to feeding from one nipple while she grabs and pinches at the other, which is not very nice. It is quite fun to watch them practising their other skills though, and only a problem if you’re just giving them a quick feed before you go off out somewhere. That is the time they will spend 20 minutes blowing raspberries before bothering to actually have any milk. Try to enjoy it; they’ll be moody teenagers before you know it.

• Breastfeeding helps you get rid of the baby weight! I don’t know why they don’t shout this one from the rooftops, seriously. It uses up extra calories from your body, so as long as you’re not shovelling a slab of chocolate down your throat at every meal, you do just lose weight from sitting on the couch watching daytime telly. It does mean that you can often find yourself ravenously hungry and horribly thirsty though, especially if they’re going through a growth spurt.

• One thing that’s obvious once it’s been said, but still needs to be said, is that your diet will affect the quality of your milk. Your body can only make milk from the materials available to it. Obviously if you’re struggling to look after a tiny baby, your diet does tend to go out the window a little bit. But once this concept dawned on me, I started to pay more attention to what I was eating and drinking.

• Breastfed babies can often go a long time between poos – another bonus! This is something a lot of people have never heard of, and it is not the case for all breastfed babies. Before starting solids, S would only ever poo every 5 days. If she went longer than 5 days, I would start drinking lots of orange juice, and that would speed things up a bit. Strange but true – your drinking orange juice will help your baby poo.

So there we have it: a rather lengthy post of all the things I thought might be useful to know about breastfeeding.

Apparently only 3% of UK women are still breastfeeding at 5 months, which is a sad statistic that we can hopefully improve if we all share our knowledge and personal experiences.

This post is part of a group of Things They Don't Tell You About... posts. The others are:

Things They Don't Tell You About Pregnancy
Things They Don't Tell You About Childbirth
Things They Don't Tell You About Motherhood
Things They Don't Tell You About Babies

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Diary Entries from Early Motherhood

I'm still working on a proper blog post, so in the meantime here are some more diary entries from earlier this year...

19^th May (5 weeks, 5 days)

Today a visit from another dear friend: C drove all the way from Oxfordshire to see us. He had to be somewhere else though, so could only stay for an hour or so. It’s strange to see people I’ve not seen for such a long time, and jarring to think of who I was the last time I saw them. It seems incongruous to now sit before them with a sleeping baby in a bouncy chair at my feet, my only topics of conversation how she is sleeping or what is going on with her father.

My mother came round in the afternoon; I find her being in the flat at all very irritating. I always feel that she is judging me, comparing my efforts with the way she successfully dragged 6 of us through childhood with no major injuries. I wait for her to tell me I’ve done something wrong but she doesn’t; instead she makes snide remarks about how rarely she is allowed to hold her granddaughter. Since my brother is not speaking to her, my mother tries to have S play the part of the two grandchildren she doesn’t see, as well as herself. S is too small for this responsibility. I don’t have the energy for an argument over it though, so I just pretend not to hear the comments and accept the gifts graciously. I feel ungrateful because the new baby clothes do not make me happy and I am too tired to smile; I just want her to leave so that I can share S’s next nap with her, before it is too late for a nap and I have to begin the bedtime routine.

I have made black and white patterns on old postcards and stuck them on the wall next to the table where I change S’s nappy. Apparently babies like to look at simple patterns and pictures of faces. I thought it was just one of those stupid things you read that turn out to be complete crap, but when I put her down for a nappy change today, she was completely mesmerised by my crappy drawings. I feel like I’ve finally done something right; perhaps I’m not such a rubbish parent after all.

20^th May (5 weeks, 6 days)

I have started going for long walks with the pushchair in the mornings. I don’t often use the pushchair, preferring to have S in the sling close to me, but now I take her for long walks and she has a nap. It kills time when we have gotten up early in the morning and the day is stretching out before me like some endless sentence of boredom and nappy changing. Today we walked a couple of miles, and then came back into town and I bought a cloth book for S. I’m hoping my recent success with the monochrome drawings will translate to a book with crinkly pages and pictures of faces.

Today S is wearing a baby-gro her father bought for her the day after she was born. She has only just grown into it. I love it, despite its reminding me of the life I thought I would be leading now, and the massive difference between that and what I actually do with my days. It was my sister’s birthday so we all went to Harvester for a meal. S slept through most of it, which was lucky as I am not so keen on breastfeeding in public places.

21^st May (6 weeks)

Today I did not leave the house at all. I know this was a bad move, because even before I had a baby I needed to leave the house at least once a day in order to feel normal. I feel lazy. My daughter has had no fresh air all day, that can’t be a good thing for her. I was just so tired though, and there was nothing I needed to do in town, no money to go frivolously shopping for baby clothes, and most of the stuff in the shops doesn’t fit her any way. She’s still wearing clothes for a newborn. Does 6 weeks still count as newborn? It feels like she’s been here forever now, no longer new but just as precious and breakable.

Although we spent so many hours in the flat, I cannot say what we actually did. We played with the rattles my mother bought for S, but she is a bit too young to even notice they are there. We played with the book, but that appears to be the same situation.

A lady from the childrens centre came round, I think the health visitor sent her. She had that sort of look a lot of people seem to have with me lately, the “oh poor you, you’re a new mum and there’s nobody to make you a cup of tea…” sort of expression. She gave me some leaflets and we signed up to do a baby massage class. I don’t think I even offered her a drink while she was here, what a terrible hostess. I should make an effort to go down to the centre though, I know it would be Good For Me to meet other mums; it’s just depressing because other mums invariably have a husband to share things with, and they invariably have that “oh-you’re-so-brave-you-poor-thing-I-could-never-do-this-alone-and-wow-she-was-early-too-however-are-you-managing” look once they know about me. I try to like other mums and to get on with them, but I tend to just feel jealous of them, which is never an endearing quality.

22^nd May (6 weeks, 1 day)

A friend came to visit today. She does not live locally so I’d not seen her since S was born. She had a baby a few months ago herself, and seems to have had a pretty rough time of it, though she doesn’t really mention it in much detail. She brought presents for the baby – clothes and such – but also some home cooked pasta for me, and some brownies. The perfect gift; I wish my family would take note of this. We sat and chatted for a long while, and she made me feel better about things. When she left she gave me a massive hug and told me I’m doing really well. I feel like I should be doing better though. Poor S only has me to rely on, I need to be two parents to her. When other babies are crying and their mothers are tired, their fathers take over the cooing and rocking. I don’t have that luxury; I cannot get tired. I am so lucky S does not cry very much, and seems to be a fairly chilled baby. When she does cry though, or when it takes her a long time to settle to sleep at night, I feel bad for her that she doesn’t have a second parent to come in and be all fresh about trying to get her to sleep. She just has me, begging her to please go to sleep. I’m sure other mothers don’t resort to leaving the hairdryer switched on in the bedroom for hours at a time each evening. I’m sure other mothers have more patience than me and for that I feel endlessly guilty.

Support

When you are a first-time mother, you have no idea what is “normal” for a baby – and when they are very small, the slightest thing sends you into a panic that you have broken them (or is that just me?) For mothers with a partner, even if that partner is also a first-time parent, there is somebody to give a second opinion: “did she have that mark there yesterday?” “Do you think that crying sounds different to her normal crying?” “Does this poo-filled nappy smell normal to you?” “Does she look a bit peaky to you?” “Do you think I should call the doctor?”

When you are on your own, there is nobody readily available to consult on such things. There’s also nobody to grab you a snack while you’re stuck on the couch feeding in the middle of a growth spurt and crying because you’re so unbelievably hungry and can see no light at the end of the tunnel – what if this baby is always going to be this hungry, and I never get to change out of this puke-stained t shirt?

To be fair, even before S’s father buggered off he wasn’t much support in this area. Still, when he finally went, I was completely bewildered, with nobody to consult as to what was normal, and what necessitated a trip to the doctor. I made numerous fraught Facebook updates, and had literally no clue as to how I would move forward in this.

My family has never really been very good at the whole touchy-feely thing. While I was mourning the end of a relationship I had thought was forever, missing S’s half brothers and sisters who I’d spent a year caring for, and trying to get used to being solely responsible for a tiny baby with no instruction manual, they didn’t really jump up to offer assistance as perhaps other families would. To be fair I didn’t really expect them to; it’s not like we’re a particularly close lot and the idea of suddenly spending lots of time with them makes me balk slightly. That said, I do send my sister in law at least one text a week asking a ridiculous new mum question and she rarely laughs at me for it! And I see my younger sisters regularly; but because they are that much younger than me I never feel that I could fall at their feet in a puddle of snot and expect them to help – I am the older sister, they shouldn’t have to look after me. I felt very alone in my battle to establish some kind of normality in my life, completely lost at sea. I didn’t want to burden people with my problems, but in some instances I felt that I’d been abandoned by those who perhaps should have been rallying round.

Luckily, the day after S’s father left us, a friend I’d not seen since we were in hospital texted to see how we were. I told her what had happened and her response was perfect: “this is the plan, no arguments. I’m coming round this evening, I will help you bath the baby and put her to bed so you can have some time to yourself. See you at 5.” She came round, helped bath S, got her to sleep, did my washing up, tidied my living room, and told me (repeatedly) I could do it on my own. She spent a lot of time with me over the next few weeks, helping me to put up net curtains, talking about what was going on with S’s father, giving advice and telling me the sort of things “they” never tell you about having a baby.

Several other friends came and made similar mercy missions: one friend came from her house 25 miles away to bring me home-cooked bolognaise sauce, brownies and a big hug and “you’re doing an amazing job.” Several friends texted, emailed, left encouraging comments on my Facebook. Friends I’ve not really seen much for a good few years have met me for coffee, given me lifts to pick things up or just gone on mad random road trips with me, listening to my whining and telling me everything would be fine, right when I needed to hear it. I will be forever indebted to a friend who stood in the middle of Homebase and said to me quite plainly, “you are making excuses for your ex and you have to stop.” One friend, a girl I’d actually not seen since I was around 12, sent me a message to say I was doing a great job and not to worry, and that she’d invited me to join this Facebook group she thought might be useful. Since that day, I have made hundreds of posts in that group, asking stupid questions, letting off steam about things that were bothering me, and squealing with delight when something good happened. The group is closed, so I knew that I could have a good old rant about whatever was bothering me, without the fear of anyone else seeing it. And the ladies in that group were so supportive; they made me feel that I was making the right decisions, that my gut instinct wasn’t completely off.

Some sources of support have appeared seemingly from nowhere. The day S’s father left the postman knocked the door to deliver a package, and it was the man who ran a church youth group I attended fifteen years ago. He arranged for a man from his church to come and paint over the damp patch on my bedroom wall, and also gave me a lift to the hospital one Saturday night when I was mid-panic about S. Strange though it may seem, having not been to that church for so long, I do feel very much that if I had a problem and someone there could help, they would – which, to me, is what Christianity is all about.

My health visitor, who had supported me since before the breakup, was (and still is) invaluable. She, her student, and her nursery nurse still all go out of their way to tell me I’m doing really well and bolster my confidence. One or other of them referred me to my local Children’s Centre where there were several groups they thought I might like to attend. A lady from the centre actually came out to the flat to talk to me about what services they offer, because they knew I wasn’t very confident going out just yet. They also suggested I join a counselling group for women in a similar situation to me with regards to my relationship. That group probably saved me and S from a great deal of heartache. Later, when I called the health visitor in tears after a street-based slanging match with S’s father, they referred me to Home Start, a charity based locally who are in the process of pairing me up with a volunteer who will come to visit us weekly, sit with S while I make important phone calls or come with us to appointments for the same reason. Being a single mother, you suddenly realise how easy you had it before when you had to call the gas board about a problem, or go to the council offices to go through some form or other. Babies don’t like to be ignored, especially when they are in their pushchairs, in a strange place.

I do feel that I’ve found my feet a bit more lately, but I still have episodes when I have no clue what I am doing. I have more support now, though. I know that I can post a stupid question on Facebook and, while some people will leave a jokey or rude (or sometimes judgemental or plainly unhelpful) response, I have a solid group of friends who will always help out by giving their own take on the situation, offering their own experience of it. This works well, because I know people who have raised, or are raising children in very different ways under different circumstances – so I get a lot of different advice to choose from. I still call my health visitor, but usually when I have issues with S’s father, rather than issues with S herself. More importantly, I am more inclined to reach out and call or text the people I would previously not have wanted to burden. I might not call up and say “help me I’m having a shitty day,” but sometimes just having a conversation with another adult is all you need to get you through.

The whole situation has made me much more compassionate towards other people’s suffering, especially where a new baby is concerned. I’ve found myself sending messages to people I don’t know terribly well, offering my support should they need it. My first few months as a mother were a lot less fun than I would have hoped, and if I can do anything to avoid someone else’s experience being like that, I am inclined to do it. My friends have set me a good example in that respect. And for the times when I don’t want to burden my friends with yet another whiney moan, I know there are other places I can approach for help. Things are looking up!