That’s exactly how I feel. In limbo. Maybe that word best describes it. 9 weeks pregnant with my third, it took a while to wrap my head around the fact that it was actually happening.. That somehow as a 22 year old, I was capable of being a mother to THREE children. I never was truly content, and I think that’s where the problem was, that’s what my body knew and rejected it. 

I miscarried at 9 and a half weeks pregnant, in medical terms described as ‘blighted ovum’. I was gutted although a part of me was slightly, selfishly and shamefully relieved. I felt like a crappy mother the minute I fell pregnant, overwhelmed with emotion although a month before this DH and I were discussing having a third. I had a horrible week, and felt relieved that we had not delved into the idea, I was content with the life I had, and came to realise that having a third would be undue stress on myself, my children and my marriage.

However, God, the universe whatever higher power you believe in had other plans. I felt horrible and almost evil that I cried for 4 hours straight when I found out I was pregnant, don’t get it confused, I would never say that I didn’t want this pregnancy, I kept repeating, I don’t deserve this pregnancy. You see this little being that was being created inside of me deserved a loving Mummy, someone who had butterflies when she realised she was pregnant, someone who was anxious and filled with excitement at her first ultrasound, someone who just couldn’t wait till the day she’d meet him or her. Instead.. I was distraught, dreading the day where I’d be running after three little very dependant children.. Who would suffer? My three year old who I would come to overload with responsibilities beyond his capabilities ? Or will my marriage be sacrificed ? Maybe my sanity ? 

So I sat there, waiting for the synographer to call my name, it was the moment every Mother looks forward to.. Hearing the heart beat, excited to make sure everything is okay and baby is healthy… Except that wasn’t me.. And it hurt so much that I couldn’t fix me, fix my mind, fix my heart.. I just wasn’t excited and I hated myself for it. “Can’t see a baby”.. Hearing her say those words, I followed with a sigh of relief and then came the tears, how could I react this way ? Why was I feeling this way ? Why couldn’t I be grateful that I was able to carry another child while others struggle for years. I was selfish, but I could not control it, and I am sorry for it.

I am so so sorry for it.

Yes.. Through the night !!

Finally ! I’ve achieved it.. Four month old sleeping through the night πŸ’ͺπŸ’ͺπŸ’ͺ

So remember that post about the whole sleep deprived, zombie look alike mama ? Say Aur revoir ( think that’s how you spell it ) cos Mama Bear is getting sleep! 

It’s true what they say about your first child being an experiment and all. Went through every process known to man kind when Zayn was a newborn, from Gina Fords method of diligent timing to the ” let them be babies, listen to their needs “. Well no. 

I did it my way and if it makes any sense.. Having Zayn made it abit easier. Bath times remained consistent.. I would bath Zayn first, read him a story then tuck him in bed followed by Miss E. Bath, dress then feed her a warm bottle – no play time just straight into her cot. 

It’s not rocket science that babies don’t know the difference between night and day.. But babies are smart when it comes to what they expect.. For example every three hours they cry expecting a feed.. Don’t think for a second they aren’t smart little cookies. You see because I bath Elaina at the same time every day, her cry is different at 6pm, not just for a feed but for a bath aswell. Newborns are already overwhelmed coming into this world, nothing is known to them so I think consistency is key.. Knowing that they are going to get the same bath ” wind down ” every day makes them that little more relaxed and comfortable – by placing them straight into their cot/bassinet you’re teaching them the difference between night and day. So as each day passes they start to realise ” okay bath = sleepy time “. 

Getting her to sleep through the night began when she turned 4 months. I began feeding her puree once a day at around 5pm, an hour before her bath and bottle. Babies stomachs are very tiny, with puree and a full bottle of milk she should be able to hold her hunger till at least 5am given a 6pm bed time. So three nights in a row there were two or three random wake ups and each time I placed the dummy in her mouth ( I plan to stop the dummy when she’s 6 months ). Three nights passed of continuously waking up and then boom.. My little baby started waking at 5am then 5.30am and now amazingly at 6am. And no I’m not starving my baby to death, the fact that she’s been sleeping through the night for three weeks now means she’s happily full ..I’m not that harsh.

Many people won’t agree with my method and that’s fine you do what suits you. But in my case it works for me. I could not imagine myself waking 4 – 5 times a night, I just wasn’t myself those first couple of months not to mention not feeling positive. Routine doesn’t work for everyone, some people’s lives obliges them to have their babies work around their time and that’s fine, I’m just sharing what makes my life that little bit easier.

I can’t imagine my life without the R word πŸ™Š.. At the end of the day my two kids are tucked in bed by a certain time.. And you can guess who’s having their cup of coffee HOT & UNINTERRUPTED πŸ’πŸ’.


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 πŸ‘€ < (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 πŸ™ˆ.

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 πŸ‘

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 πŸ™Š.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.




Let’s get real

This post is about as brutally honest as I can get and maybe at my most vulnerable.

It’s hard, it’s pretty damn hard. Being a mother is the most rewarding yet exhausting job in the world and please note I do not use the word “job” lightly. 

Having two kids was my dream. 

Giving birth to Elaina six weeks ago made my life complete. I had what people say to be ” the perfect balance”, blessed with a beautiful  two year old boy and one 3.6kg weighing, gorgeous baby girl. I was mentally prepared ( or so I thought ) to how challenging it was going to be – but boy was I wrong.

I’m struggling – there you have it.. Typing those words brings on the tears in an instant, I prepared myself day in day out for months straight , repeating to my brain cells that it’s going to be tough for the first couple of months but that’s what I get for being selfish enough to want two children to be close in age. Yes selfish ! Because that’s all that I’ve been feeling lately, Zayn has been a God sent and it’s not fair on him. He helps me with everything that at times I get frustrated that he can’t hand me a wipe when my hands are full just because I’ve become dependant on him. Sleep deprivation isn’t helping the situation either, it gets to stages where they’re both crying for attention and then I’ll have a two minute zone out where I’m mentally falling asleep – boom I snap out of it then straight into mum mode again. 

Oh you saw me start a new paragraph you might’ve thought ” oh she’s done “.. How about the emotional bursts and break downs ? God love my husband if anything he’s probably the reason I find it in me to keep going everyday without crying spontaneously. His mind must be so confused by me begging him to ” just let me do everything ” to ” you don’t even help and that doesn’t help me ! “. 

I know there are mamas out there reading this with 5 kids that are one year apart and mastering the hell out of it – perceiving me as just a tired mum on a rant but in all honesty, hands up and hats off to you. 

I was expecting it to be tough, I just didn’t know it was going to be this tough. What’s keeping me sane is routine, I’d be crazy without it. Having them both bathed & in bed by 7.30pm gives me somewhat of a release.. It’s almost like I get in touch with the human me and not the robot. I walk into their rooms watching their little bodies take breath and instantly wanting to cry because I selfishly want to wake them. I stare at zayn for minutes on end, apologising mentally for asking too much of him during the day.. And then jokingly blaming him, that it’s his fault he’s too mature and says ” mum I wanna help ” with absolutely everything, from making his bed to vaccuming the house. 

I leave this post tonight with bags under my eyes and a bed that’s screaming my name. Tomorrow is a new day, that’s exactly the way I’ll approach every day until my body and mind has adjusted to this change. That’s all it really it is at the end of the day – change. It’s different, all that I’m experiencing is different, may not be easy but I will master it.

This blog will be my escape, feels like dΓ©jΓ  vu, I remember typing those words two years ago to the day on this blog. Expressing myself through words keeps my sanity in check.


Momma_ze Xx

Did I vanish ?

Poof ! Gone

That’s how it feels, opening up my blog seems like a foreign experience to me :\ weird huh ?

Lets explore the list of excuses I was planning on pitching:

– busy writing my book away 😏

– running after a little penguin all day

– completely exhausted by this pregnancy 😞


Yep, you guessed it.. Number 3. I’ve mentioned it countless times but this time round has been a whole new experience for me.. Hats off to the women that are going through it and have already experienced it because frankly I’m just about ready to take her out myself πŸ™ˆ . Okay maybe emotions are taking over with that dramatic statement but wow oh wow I kinda understood the whole ” every pregnancy is different ” – noone mentioned ET different.

To the pregnant, first time mama to be reading this.. Might wanna skip this post.

I think it just all comes back to how I really feel, might sound funny but I miss my old self. I could bounce off walls during my first pregnancy (FP) this time placing my hands on walls to get around is what its become. I’m so thankful that I’ve been blessed to carry another child and add a little muffin to my family but God only knows the struggle is real. I mean nausea through to 7 months ? Vomiting if I have that extra 10 cent piece of biscuit ? Huffing and puffing from just lifting the washing? Yes the washing !! Not the basket ! But actual pieces of clothing πŸ™Š

Most of all.. I miss being me 😐 Funny, light hearted me.. These days you cant get a word past me without me analysing it 1865736 times and drawing my own conclusions cos hey I’m right by the way and no I will not give you the opportunity to explain yourself βœ‹

Hubby has been my rock throughout all of this, clichΓ© I know. I realise it when its too late, the quick snaps at why his esky wasn’t placed in the kitchen sink but on the bench, or why his work clothes smelled of sweat ! I plan on apologising for all of this and much more once baby E is born… After all, no point in me saying sorry then starting an argument as to why I’m apologising followed by the drop of the oh so common line ” you helped make this baby !”

2 months to go.. The countdown is on.. EDD 29/01/15..

There you have it. My sincere (about as sincere as I can get typing this with swollen bear feet) explanation as to why I disappeared.. I’ll be posting more often just bare with me as I have a 21 month old who is practically forcing me to toilet train him – but that’s for a whole other post 😝 stay tuned and all will be explained.




The Bunny Experiment

So I know I’ve been a little quiet on the blog lately, truth is I haven’t had time to scratch my headπŸ˜”. Between balancing time completing chapters, assignments, running after a toddler then remembering to feed the baby growing inside of me it’s pretty understandable I hope 😁.

So I mentioned on my Instagram that in our little household we’ve been enjoying a “bunny experiment” for the last two weeks or so. It all began when I was flicking through channels one night and came across an interesting story about a woman who decided she wanted to focus on her career ( even though she was married ) for most of her life and put having children on a long hold. At 43 her and her partner decided it was time to have children, fortunately enough she was one of the very few that had – her words not mine ” lucky eggs”. What that meant was they both decided they would have children no less then 12 months apart – 5 to be exact. When the reporter asked about how the siblings handled another coming along at such a young age, she mentioned her “teddy” experiment. *Silly* I initially thought, and she giggled too when she said it aloud as she turned red faced from her husband. She pretty much bought her first daughter a teddy bear that they as a family called ” baby “. They would cuddle the teddy any time they cuddled her, pretend fed/bathed/dressed/kissed the baby every time they did their own little girl.

Intrigued by the idea of the whole ” success teddy story “, I thought I’d try it with my LO.. After all I always said ” He would never be a jealous baby, he’s too affectionate towards other kids, it’s impossible ” πŸ‘€ Boy did he prove me wrong. So out I brought a fluffy bunny ( from his gazillion stuffed toys he received when he was a new born ). I cradled the bunny in my arms like he was a baby and said aloud ” this is bay beee ( yes we speak in baby syllables πŸ™ˆ ). I could just see it in his eyes, before I knew it he stormed up to me, ripped the bunny out of my arms and put it back in the toy box. *Fail*
Next morning, the regular struggle of changing his nappy without him thinking it’s a game of a cat and mouse πŸ˜‚, so I stopped chasing him – exhausted and out of ideas I grabbed the bunny and smiled ” hi bay bee, were gonna change your nappy – good boy ” – I leaned in and kissed the bunny… In a Blink of an eye can you guess who was tugging at my hip ☺️ ? So from there it began.. Have to admit the first couple of days were hilarious, at bed time I would say good night to the both of them, kiss them both & before I could turn my back he would throw the bunny out of the cot ( imagine the blow fish like face I was making trying to hold my laugh ) but I stuck stubborn. Now two weeks on, when I say ” nana (food) time ” without hesitation he walks into his room, grabs the bunny and squeals – yes he squeals because this is apparently the way you speak to a baby in his books ” ba baaa”.

Not to mention the little moments that melt your heart, for instance today, sitting in the lounge room reading a book together only for him to jump down walk in his room and walk out cuddling his little ba baaa.

Maybe this experiment won’t work – it’s objective after all is to get the child used to your attention as a mother shifting onto something else other than them. I won’t be able to tell you I succeeded till this little bun in the oven graces us with their presence in less than six months 😱. But what I can say for sure is, if that’s how he is with a stuffed animal, then I can only imagine how lucky & fortunate his little brother/sister is going to be to have a brother like him.

I’m interested to hear from any of the mamas with two or more children -how your little ones reacted when the other came along – or did they react at all ? Did you do any experiments before hand ? You can click on the heading of the post and down the bottom you can comment or share the post with friends on fb.