Did it work ?

For those who read a blog post that I had published before Elaina was born, this post is to follow up on that. 

Those who haven’t, a little break down: I had heard of a method to prepare toddlers (esp those under two) for another sibling by introducing stuffed animals as a means of getting them used to having a baby. In our household Zayn opted for a stuffed bunny whom we called “baby”. I’d pretend feed it when Zayn would eat, bath it when Zayn would, invite the bunny to play when Zayn and I would be playing legos or painting. Long story short it was to try and eliminate the jealousy that toddlers feel towards a new sibling most of the time.

Well I’m glad to scream ” IT WORKED! IT BLOODY WORKED!”. As soon as we brought Elaina home, he wanted to take care of her just as much as I did. Till this very day change time consists of him running into her room, handing me her nappy, dragging his little stepping stool to hop on and ” ELP”. Help isn’t the word, he has surpassed all the expectations I had in regards to his reaction to another sibling in the house. I see parents with children close in age trying to make the other feel good by saying things like ” baby yucky, so and so is niiiccceee “. That is not the way to go. I understand children get jealous and maybe I’m just one of the lucky few however encouraging those types of comments will only lead to one thing ‘ superiority ‘. 

Toddlers love to feel independent even though we don’t allow them to be most of the time they still try and tap into that side of them at every moment they get, so let them. The first thing I did when Zayn walked into the hospital room was hand Elaina over to him, yes a lot of people were and still are to this day sceptical of having a toddler carry a newborn ( with all eyes on them mind you ).. But not allowing them that right builds on the thoughts they might having going on in their little minds ” so only mum and dad can carry her, so she’s special, I can’t ” – these thoughts are there. So carry her he did, feed her he tried, played with her he failed but I never said no. Yes I approached them all with caution, but I wanted to paint a loud picture in his mind as subliminal as humanly possible -that she’s not all that special.

Big brother he has become, so stereotypical but yes he is protective. The moment he hears her cry in the morning, he’ll make sure her door is open only to bolt in and try to comfort her by saying ” laynaa ishh okaayy “. Once he realises that isn’t working, common sense kicks in and he screams ” MAMA LAYNNAAA WANNA EAAATT! ” 

So yes, it feels good to know that I stuck to something and succeeded! It was boring as hell, fake changing a bunny, bathing, feeding, playing with a bunny !! In the end though I came out winning and boy am I cheering now. 





I Forgot.

Sounds stupid huh

I actually forgot labour was painful. I don’t know why but whilst being pregnant with Elaina I had reminisced about my labour experience with Zayn as a walk in the park, so magical 👀 < (don’t ask but that’s how I remembered and still remember it to be).

I dedicated a blog post following the birth of my first child a while back on the blog, even though I had forgotten the intricate details as I wrote it months after he was born. This time is no different, positive feedback from that post encouraged me to relive my labour experience with Elaina. 

Heads up to those expecting or not  – if you flinch at the mention of labour,I suggest you close this tab NOW. Lord knows I don’t want to be responsible for a spontaneous labour 🙈.

It’s amazing how I carried two children, same body, same uterus, same bloody womb yet two complete different pregnancy experiences, so having a different labour experience wasn’t a complete shock. My due date was 28/01/15. If I’m being completely honest, my due date felt like it was 1/01/15, I convinced myself that I could not carry on any longer. Blame it on the exhaustion,stress or simply running after another child but I felt like a lost cause for that last month – scratch that a lost balloon more like it. It was a depressing month, not having the energy to go places, wearing shirts that could pass for crop tops – yep that glorious third trimester journey 👍

At what would be my final hospital appointment which fell on a Thursday and had already been 7 days overdue , I had a stretch and sweep performed (no I will not explain it for those who do not know – Google it 😷). From all the experiences I read on the internet I was expecting to go into labour that night. 


Friday – 


Saturday – I’d had enough. That morning I jumped up and down renacting Peppa Pig, squatted a gazilion times, convinced myself to clean as much as I could. Visiting my inlaws that afternoon my mother inlaw convinced me to take a walk around the block 😩. Anyone who knows me personally would vouch for that fact that I wouldn’t walk if my life depended on it. Ask me to do 100 squats but do not ask me to walk. Something came over me that day though, that something was my stubbornness. I’d had enough, ready to pull her out myself I agreed and walked around the block I did. 

Sunday morning 8/02/15 – I think I was possessed. Waking at 4am to vigorously mop the floors, do the dusting, wash and hang all the clothes, I knew it was the day.

My experience with Zayn is what Drs refer to as a ” textbook style labour “. Waters broke, contractions followed then boom helloooooo baby. Boy was it different this time round. Contractions began at around 9am, wasn’t completey sure they were contractions after all I had been experiencing severe braxton hicks for the weeks leading up to that day. 

12pm – it was the real deal, 10 mins apart, before I knew it it was 3pm and 5 mins between each contraction. If I thought I was in pain then – I was blind as to what was in store.

Midwife examined me, quickly noticed that I was lucky enough to have had a speedy labour with my first and admitted me straight in. Pain was only getting stronger almost unbearable! I am a sucker when it comes to pain. I walk and moan when I contract, it’s how I deal with it,I do not want to be touched, I do not want to be talked to and hell I do not want to be asked if IM OKAY. Looking back I could only imagine how my poor husband was feeling, I probably resembled a scene straight out of paranormal activity 🙊.Finally the midwife broke my waters to bring on the third stage of labour – before I knew it I just wanted her out. But oh wait this is where miss ” I want to go all natural ” decided to ask for the epidural – not a smart move seeing as the midwife declared I was 9cm and ready. Rejected and grateful I was. I pushed without permission, without buzzing I pushed. I was just a stubborn as I was with my first, I didn’t   wait for contractions – the second I started pushing I didn’t stop. 

6.20pm I began my third stage of labour ( pushing ), my baby girl arrived at 6.32pm weighing a healthy 3.6kg and 52cm tall. No surgical interference and no tearing. I’ve always been one to encourage natural labour. I’ve mentioned it before and will again – the woman’s body was built to be able to endure this experience, how everyone decides to experience it is up to them but truly appreciating the body I have happens during labour. It felt like my first labour was repeating itself, pushing and feeling every muscle in my body take on that command and pushing with me. 

This post isn’t just for me to document my personal experience, but also to possibly encourage the pregnant reader to just be open minded to a natural labour. The facts are there black and white. And to the reader that has already been strong enough to bring a child into this world, hats off to you. Whichever way you went about bringing them into this world, the pain is still very much present and real and for that you hold the greatest honour known amongst mankind- being a mother.