The Mama Perspective

Motherhood and Maternal Wellbeing

  • 16.5 Months Postpartum After Baby Number Two | The Reality of Postpartum Recovery

    16.5 months postpartum after baby number two, and I’m still learning what this version of motherhood looks like.

    Postpartum has been one of the most difficult stages of my life. You’re given this immense bundle of happiness to hold in your arms – literally. You love them more than you could ever explain, and yet the mental exhaustion, worry, anxiety and sheer responsibility don’t just disappear because you’re grateful.

    If anything, I’ve learnt that two things can exist at the same time.

    You can be incredibly grateful and completely exhausted. You can love motherhood and still find it really hard. You can feel happy and still have days where you’re running on empty.

    Today, I’m 16.5 months postpartum, and I feel tired but grateful. I’ve realised a lot about the people who are in and out of our lives during this season of life. Motherhood has a funny way of showing you what – and who – actually matters.

    More than anything, I’ve realised that our family unit is what matters most.

    Any noise surrounding that takes a back seat or, to be honest, doesn’t hold a place at all. It’s insignificant to me now. My energy is limited, and I don’t want to spend it worrying about things that don’t contribute to the happiness, health and wellbeing of our little family.

    I want to protect our peace. I went to the doctors today to have my thyroid checked, as my levothyroxine dosage had to be changed again three months ago. And for the first time in maybe 3–4 years, my weight was finally classed as “healthy”.

    Now, I know how damaging BMI and the NICE guidance notes you receive after an appointment can be to read. Numbers can sometimes feel like they carry far more meaning than they actually do, especially when you’re navigating postpartum body changes, recovery and everything that comes with having children.

    But for me, today wasn’t really about the number or the label. It was about knowing that I’ve been making a conscious effort to look after my mind and my body more. To make better choices where I can. To move my body. To pay attention to how I’m feeling. And, after everything my body has been through, it was about recognising that I’m finally starting to feel a little more like me again.

    Not the old me. Not the pre-baby me. But me, now.

    A mum of two. 16.5 months postpartum. Still figuring it all out, still having good days and hard days, but learning to appreciate my body for everything it has done and continues to do.

    There’s still a long way to go, but for the first time in a while, I’m not looking at my body and thinking about everything I want to change.

    I’m looking at it and feeling proud of how far it’s come. And most of all, trying to love myself more every day as an example to my kids to love themselves too no matter what life throws our way.

  • How Have the Summer Holidays Really Been? The Reality of Juggling Work, Childcare and Two Little Boys

    The school summer holidays always look so different when you’re looking at them from the outside. Six weeks of sunshine, days out, ice creams, lazy mornings, family time and making memories.

    Lovely, right? Well… yes. And also, not really.

    As a mum of two boys – one in primary school and one at nursery – I’ve found these summer holidays far from easy to manage.And as August comes to an end, I think I’m finally ready to admit just how much of a juggle it has actually been.

    The reality of the school summer holidays when both parents work full time

    Both my husband and I work full time. And we’re incredibly grateful that we can both have careers we enjoy, earn money and build the life we want for our boys.

    But the school summer holidays have a funny way of making you realise just how much you usually rely on routine.

    During term time, there’s school. There’s nursery. There are predictable days and predictable hours. Then suddenly, the school gates close for six weeks and you’re left thinking:

    How are we going to make this work?

    We’ve been incredibly lucky with the childcare we have had. Our youngest, Jack, has been able to have one day at nursery each week outside of his usual term-time allocation. My mum has also looked after the boys for two days each week.

    We’re so grateful for both. But that still leaves three days a week.

    Three days of trying to work from home or get to the office without feeling guilty with two children around.

    And if you’re a working parent, you’ll know exactly what I mean when I say that working from home with children is not quite the peaceful, productive set-up it sounds like on paper.

    Working from home with children during the summer holidays

    There have been meetings. Lots of meetings. There has been noise. Constant noise.

    “Mummy.”

    “Daddy.”

    “Come here!”

    “Can you play with me?”

    “Look at this!”

    “I’m hungry.”

    “Where are you going?”

    And then there’s the inevitable moment when you’re sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on something important, while simultaneously listening out for what is happening in the rest of the house.

    You don’t want to ignore them. You don’t want to say “just a little while longer” for what feels like the hundredth time. But sometimes you have to. Because work still needs to be done.

    And that’s one of the hardest parts of being a working mum during the school holidays.

    You’re physically there. But you’re not always available. And somehow, that can make the mum guilt even worse. The summer holiday mum guilt

    I’ve felt guilty throughout these summer holidays.

    Guilty that I haven’t done enough. Guilty when I’ve had to work. Guilty when one of the boys has asked me to play and I’ve had to say no. Guilty when I’ve left the house and seen that sad little face watching me go, even though I know they’re going to have a brilliant day. Guilty when I’ve been working from home and haven’t been able to give them my full attention.

    And then guilty for feeling guilty.

    Because, really, I know how fortunate we are. My boys are loved. They’re cared for. They’ve had days with their grandparents, days at nursery, days with us and days filled with things they’ve enjoyed. They’re happy. They’re safe. They might be a little grumpy at times but they’re okay.

    So why does the guilt still creep in?

    Maybe because there’s this expectation that school summer holidays should be magical. That we should be filling every day with activities. That we should be making endless memories. That our children should look back on their summer and remember nothing but fun. But perhaps that isn’t what summer holidays have to be. Perhaps sometimes summer is simply about getting through the juggle.

    We don’t have a village – and I think it’s important to say that There’s a phrase you hear a lot as a parent:

    “It takes a village.” And I completely understand the sentiment. Having people around you who can help, support you, pick up the slack and be there when you need them is an incredible thing.

    But not everyone has a village. We don’t.

    We have my mum, and we are incredibly lucky to have her. But beyond that, there isn’t a big network of family members who can regularly step in and help with childcare. And I think there’s something quite important about saying that out loud. Because sometimes parenting can feel like a constant exercise in trying to make everything work with the resources you have.

    You make the childcare arrangements. You compare calendars. You work around nursery hours. You move meetings. You work early. You work late. You work from home with a child asking you to play. And somehow, you get to Friday. Then you do it all again the following week. And then, somehow, August arrives

    But here we are. The end of August.

    And somehow, we’ve made it. The school summer holidays are almost over.

    Our biggest boy is getting ready to go into Year One. Year One. I’m still not quite sure how that happened. I know, logically, that this is how childhood works. They grow. They learn. They change.

    But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier.

    My heart actually hurts a little when I look at him and realise just how quickly he’s growing up. His voice is changing. He’s getting taller. His little face is changing. He’s learning more every day. He’s becoming more independent. His manners are developing. His personality is growing. He’s becoming more and more of his own little person.

    And I look at him and think: Where did my baby go? It feels like yesterday that he was tiny. And now we’re talking about Year One. And the funny thing is, I know this is only the beginning.

    There is so much more change to come. More school years. More learning. More independence. More milestones. More moments where I’ll probably wonder how he got so big so quickly. And then, of course, we get to experience it all over again with our youngest boy.

    The end of summer holidays and the return to routine

    As much as I’ve loved having more time with the boys, I think I’m ready for routine again. I’m ready for the school runs. The nursery drop-offs. The packed bags. The predictable weekdays.

    The feeling that everyone knows where they need to be and when. I’m ready to get back into the swing of things.

    But I also know I’ll probably miss the slower mornings. The extra cuddles. The days where we haven’t had anywhere to be. The little moments that wouldn’t have happened if we were rushing from one place to another.

    That’s the strange thing about the school summer holidays. You can be completely exhausted by them and still feel sad when they’re over. You can desperately need the routine while simultaneously wishing time would slow down.

    You can crave a quiet working day and then feel emotional when your children head back through the school gates. Maybe that’s motherhood. Wanting two completely opposite things at exactly the same time.

    So, how have the summer holidays really been? Honestly? Hard. Exhausting. Fun. 

    A juggle. A lot of working. A lot of childcare logistics. A lot of “Mummy, can you…?” And a lot of guilt that probably wasn’t necessary in the first place. But we’ve made it.

    And maybe that’s enough.

    We didn’t create the perfect six-week summer. We didn’t entertain the boys every minute of every day. We didn’t have endless family days out. We worked. We relied on the childcare we had. We asked for help where we could. We did our best. And our boys have been happy.

    As September approaches, we’re going to find our rhythm again.

    We’ll get back into the school and nursery routine. We’ll find our mornings. We’ll find our evenings. We’ll work. We’ll parent. We’ll probably still feel guilty sometimes.

    And we’ll keep reminding ourselves that we’re doing all of this for them, too.

    Because behind the meetings, the childcare arrangements, the school holidays and the endless juggling is the reason we do it all:

    to build a happy, secure life for our boys.

    And as I watch my biggest boy get ready for Year One, I think there’s one thing I want to remember from this summer. It doesn’t have to be perfect to be meaningful. Sometimes, simply getting through it together is enough.

  • Solo Day Out: Why Taking Time for Yourself Matters

    Last week, I took myself into town for a couple of hours. It wasn’t a big day out or anything particularly exciting. I didn’t have a packed itinerary or a list of things I wanted to achieve. I simply wanted some time to myself – a chance to wander around, have a drink, listen to some music and enjoy being on my own for a little while.

    And actually, it was exactly what I needed.

    Taking myself out for the day

    I think there’s something quite underrated about taking yourself out. When you’re used to having other people to think about, whether that’s family, work or just the general day-to-day running around, spending time alone can feel slightly unusual.

    So I decided to go into town by myself.

    I did have one important job to do: buy coats for the boys. Because apparently even my attempts at having some “me time” still involve shopping for somebody else!

    Once I’d done that, though, I was free to wander.

    There was no rushing from one place to another. No need to ask anyone what they wanted to do. I could simply walk around the shops, look at whatever caught my eye and take my time.

    A mocha and some throwback music

    Naturally, a solo trip into town needed a coffee. I stopped and had a mocha, which was a lovely little treat. There’s something nice about sitting down with a coffee when you’re on your own.

    No interruptions. No one asking, “Are you finished yet?” Just me, my mocha and a bit of peace.

    Afterwards, I got on the bus and headed upstairs to the top deck. I sat right at the front – like Freddy – because obviously that is the best seat.

    I put my headphones in and listened to some throwbacks. Atomic Kitten, LeAnn Rimes, Whitney Houston (my favourite).

    There is something about old songs that can instantly take you back. You can hear a song you haven’t listened to in years and suddenly remember a particular time in your life, where you were, who you were with or simply how you felt back then. I love moments that feel nostalgic.

    The importance of spending time alone

    The thing I realised during this little solo day out is that spending time alone doesn’t have to mean doing anything special.

    I didn’t need to book a treatment, go somewhere fancy or plan an entire day around self-care. I just needed a couple of hours where I wasn’t responsible for anyone else. I could wander. I could sit. I could listen to whatever music I wanted. I could drink my mocha while it was still hot. And I could enjoy my own company.

    I think we sometimes make “me time” sound like something that has to be carefully planned. But sometimes the best kind of self-care is much simpler. It’s taking yourself into town. It’s browsing the shops without being rushed. It’s getting your favourite drink. It’s putting your headphones in. It’s walking around with nowhere particularly important to be.

    I could have stayed longer

    The funny thing is, I could have stayed out longer. I had no real reason to go home when I did. I could have wandered around for another hour. I could have sat somewhere and had another coffee. I could have looked around a few more shops or carried on walking around and enjoyed having nowhere else to be.

    But, as always, I started feeling like I needed to get home. And that’s on me. Nobody was telling me to go home. Nothing was urgent.

    It was just that familiar feeling in my mind that I should probably get back now. Maybe that’s something I need to get better at.

    Giving myself permission to stay out a little longer. Giving myself permission to enjoy my own time without feeling like I need to hurry back. Because being at home will always be there.

    Why solo days are worth making time for

    That little trip reminded me that taking time for yourself is important. Not because something is necessarily wrong, and not because you need to escape your life.

    Sometimes you just need to step away from your usual routine for a couple of hours. A solo day out can give you space to think, switch off and reconnect with yourself. It can also be surprisingly enjoyable to realise that you actually like your own company.

    And you don’t have to travel somewhere fancy or spend lots of money to do it.

    My solo day involved a bus ride, a mocha, some coats for the boys, and a playlist full of throwbacks.

    You don’t need a special occasion. And you don’t need to fill every minute with something productive. Sometimes you can just do something for you.

    Next time, though, I’m staying a little longer.

    Spending time alone doesn’t always come easy as a mum, but if you can, try to dedicate some time to yourself. I wrote about some ideas in my last blog post: Ways to Feel Happier When Life Is Busy

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