The toughest 5 days of parenting ever!

So a month in to being a mum of 3, and 17 years of being a mum, and nothing could have prepared me for the last week. I know other parent’s have been through the same, and I personally know parent’s who have been through worse, but for me, it has been the worst few days of parenting I have ever been through.

Within 48 hours I went from celebrating Christmas with my extended family, to sitting in a side room on a Paediatrics ward in hospital, watching my 3 week old daughter struggle to breathe. Her oxygen saturation levels couldn’t get over 80%, and at times she would go blue round her mouth as she coughed and couldn’t catch her breath. They put her on oxygen, and then the long night started. The put in a feeding tube, to rest her from having to juggle breathing and feeding. We were put in a side room, and I was given a bed alongside her cot. I was lucky if I got 2 hours sleep that night in more than 20 minute blocks.

Move on another 9 hours, and the consultant made the decision to move her quickly to the High Dependency area, put her on a pressurised oxygen system to aid her breathing, moved her straight on to IV fluids over the feeding tube, started her on IV antibiotics and took lots of blood for testing. Watching 3 doctors and 2 nurses focus solely on one tiny baby was not part of my Christmas holiday plans. Especially not focus on my baby.

Seeing your baby lying there, with 4 different wires/tubes coming off her, all doing a different job to help her breathe and keep going is scary. My response was to ask friends and family to start praying. It was the only comfort I could find in a place of fear, and almost desperation. Being told by the doctors that a delay of a few more hours in taking her in, probably made the difference to her needing to be ventilated and not, was scary. Realising how poorly she was, from what had been a cough a few hours before, to a cough that she couldn’t catch her breath from, to a baby on oxygen was a lot to take in. In the midst of it all, I was trying to communicate with Paul what was going on, arrange child care for our toddler and let our teenager know what had happened as he was away with friends.

We were so grateful for the speedy response, with offers of help and support, from our friends. Taking the toddler out for the day, and others having him overnight, meant it was one less thing to worry about. But as a mum, I never stop worrying. I miss both of my boys whenever I am not with them, so I couldn’t completely switch off. What I am discovering as a mum of 2 or 3, is that rather than share the love you had for your previous child across more, you become capable of a bigger capacity to love others, and so you can’t just turn it off, or switch the emotions to another child. You don’t stop loving or worrying about the others, when one needs a greater focus.

I did also discover that my daughter is a fighter. She proved the doctors wrong, by being able to cope with breastfeeding again a day earlier than they expected. (She had pulled out her feeding tube 3 times first, and they then agreed to let her try, expecting to have to put the tube back in.) She proved them wrong again by weaning herself off the oxygen sooner than expected, so that when they removed the pressurised oxygen to replace with the normal oxygen, she was about to keep her saturation at 97% without any oxygen!

I learnt a lot about the virus that is Broncholitis. It’s nasty. It causes a baby a lot of discomfort. I also have learnt how easy it, and the related RSV are to pass to babies. And as a result, I am more protective. I won’t be letting others to be kissing my baby anywhere near the mouth and nose – including my own children and Paul and I. I won’t be encouraging her to be passed round by lots of people at any one time. I don’t want to repeat that week again. It even beats having a child with peritonitis on the stress scale.

I’m also so grateful for the NHS. The staff who looked after my daughter we all phenemenal. From the care assistants that made sure I got all my meals. to the consultant who insisted on putting in all her IV lines etc himself to ensure minimal distress was caused to my daughter.

As I’ve always said, this blog is a bit of a processing space for me. It’s a safe place where I can share my feelings.It’s a place where I can get my feelings in some kind of order. So please see this as that. I am still processing, and this is an easy and safe way to do that. As a parent you need to find, or carve out, that space where you can process and work through situations, and this is where I can do that.

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Goodbye to Facebook

So this might seem like an extreme post, and it might seem odd that I am sharing this on Facebook, but I wanted to share my thoughts and how I have got to this place, and not just disappear.

Over the Christmas period I chose to remove myself from Facebook. It was starting to take up too much of my life, and I was getting to tied up in a virtual world and was starting to feel judged and assessed by that world. In this period I can honestly say I haven’t really missed it. What I have felt is a freedom from the perception of what the world thinks of who I should or shouldn’t be. Of what I should or shouldn’t share, and of what kind of person I want to be.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some groups I am part of that have been a great support to me, and I may choose to continue to interact with them at different points. But what  I have realised is that I don’t need to share parts of my life on Facebook for value and worth. I, like many, will only post the parts of life which I want the world to see. But that isn’t healthy or constructive. It has meant that I am not being true to myself.

The other thing I have noticed, is that many people think that what you post on social media is you life, and that by reading your posts, they don’t need to interact with you on a personal level. Friendships are becoming warped. People think they are your friend because of what they see online. I’ve learnt that my true friends are those who are around me at the times when life gets tough. That doesn’t mean they all live 5 minutes away….in fact some of our closest friends live many many miles away. But they are the ones who take time to get in touch, and check that all is ok.

Also when I was pregnant, we made a decision that  we did not want our baby growing up thinking that a presence all over social media was the norm, or what was expected of him. We wanted him to decide his own privacy boundaries and to choose what of his life he wants to share. We also have made a decision for him not to expect to watch TV or spend his life in front of screens. In fact, the only programmes he watches regularly (by this I mean a couple of times a week) are Fireman Sam and Thomas the Tank Engine. Watching him grow through his creative play and his imagination is so rewarding…..live TV at home!

Note: This isn’t us judging anyone else, it is just how we have chosen to raise our son.

So I have decided in light of all of this to take a permanent step away from Facebook. Yes I  will still use other social media channels at times. I will still have an account as I need it for work. I will still visit the site (yes the site, not the app) occasionally. But I won’t be on here day in day out. I won’t be aware of notifications, as my phone won’t beep or stick an icon in the corner.I will still blog from time to time, which will be shared. I can still be contacted on Messenger, and all manner of old fashioned means of communications! Just don’t expect me to hear your latest news on FB or expect to hear what I am up to, as it won’t be happening. Do keep in touch……I love receiving letters in the post!! (An emails work well too!)