In the months since I had my little lady I haven't quite been feeling like myself.
I became aware of this "feeling" but I didn't know what it was or why it was. I just knew, that it was. If that makes sense.


Being my second baby I knew to expect sleepless nights, extreme hunger from breast feeding and a rollercoaster of hormones. I even knew to expect a week or so of "baby blues".

I did not expect postpartum anxiety.

I had an easy, quick labor and in 6 minutes of pushing my darling girl had entered the world. She latched and fed beautifully within minutes of birth, slept like an angel and we were home the following day. I was on cloud 9, cloud 10 even!

My little family was complete.
A boy and a girl.
A loving husband.
A happy life.
I floated through the first weeks high on love and life. I was constantly elated.
My body bounced back from pregnancy even better than the first time and I felt energized. I am so lucky! Happy, happy, joy, joy!

Life with two under two was busy but honestly I laughed at all the people who tried to scare us off it. Both kids slept through the night, adored each other and we were happy like the Brady bunch-obviously just minus a handful of kids, 4 extra dogs and sadly no housekeeper. But I was so on top of things even the cleaning wasn't a downer.

I'm not sure exactly when, where or what happened but at some point along the lines my high diminished. It wasn't noticeable at first. I suppose I became a little less high on life, a little less patient, a little less calm. Until one day I realised I wasn't very calm at all.

I am prone to anxiety after events that have taken place long before I had children but it was something I had seen to and learnt to live with quite capably.
I have been in therapy and on medication from age 18, up until 2 years ago when we wanted to start having a family and I weaned off them and stopped seeing my psych when we moved around a few times. But I felt it was the right decision, I was ready to do so and I had learnt many ways to manage and live relatively unaffected by my anxiety.

One of the things I pride myself on as a mother is being a positive one. Being calm. Gentle. Patient. Accepting. Easy going. Funny. Interactive. Encouraging. Interested. Approachable. The list goes on...

But somehow I lost sight of my true self these last months and found I was lacking inner peace. That calm and confidence in my abilities as a mother had seemed to fade without me even noticing.

Nothing in our life had changed, the kids still slept through the night, the house was still clean, the grocery shopping done and bills paid. Yet somehow- I had changed.

The aura of happiness and serenity had floated away from me. Instead I found myself snapping at those around me for the smallest insignificant things. Things I usually wouldn't even notice. I found myself struggling to resist the urge to errupt like an angry volcano when things weren't perfect. Nothing felt clean enough or organised enough. Nothing felt calm. Nothing felt safe or familiar, funny, relaxed or free. Nothing felt right.

I was restless. Tense. Exhausted but not able to sleep. Starving but lacking an appetite. My mind felt foggy and like it was whirring. I couldn't think straight or concentrate. I was even more forgetful than usual (which is a lot). All this made me irritable, frustrated and angry.

I had heard of postpartum depression before but I didn't think I had that. I wasn't sad. I wasn't sitting around in my PJs, sobbing and moping around. I love my kids, I was still laughing when funny things happened and still finding joy in things throughout the day, more than coping and I still happy in many ways. I don't have bad thoughts and I don't feel resentment.

In actual fact, I feel TOO lucky, if that is even a thing. I feel like I'm not doing enough as a wife, mother, human and I feel not good enough. Also, I worry because surely something bad is going to happen soon?

I've lost babies, had miscarriages and I nearly lost John-Jackson when he was a baby --it was a miracle we caught the illness in time and he was flown to a big hospital for emergency surgery at 5 weeks old.

So for the last 3 months I have lived in fear just waiting for something to happen to Maggie.

When she slept through the night I'd wake in a panic thinking she was dead.
I thought keeping the house clean would stop her possibly getting sick.
My heart raced when others held her in case they dropped her or infected her.
I would pull over and quadruple check that she was in her carseat and that I had clipped her in.
I worried that she spent too much time happily playing on her play mat and she would get a "flat head" and then everyone would think I didn't hold her enough.
I checked her breathing, constantly. Sometimes I would poke her in her sleep to make sure she responded.
THE LIST GOES ON AND ON AND ON.

Then in my frantic over parenting of Maggie, I somehow missed that John-Jackson had a double middle infection and it wasn't until one side ruptured one night that I even noticed.
Which brought in: THE GUILT.
(Let's not even mention that his ear got infected and ruptured like three times that one month, I also got a postpartum uterine infection and Maggie then got diarrhea for 2 weeks from the antibiotics- all while the husband was away for work)

My stress reached an all time high and the postpartum hormones swirling around only added to my anxiety.
I couldn't turn off my brain and it was driving me to tears.
Sure, every mother worries and goes through some winter illness and the occasional rough patch but this was on a whole new level.

I knew I was being irrational but I couldn't help it. I also knew something needed to happen, I needed to change something but I was scared.

I had taken all my anger out on my husband as to not do it to the kids so I felt like it was an excuse trying to tell him it was hormones and anxiety and I needed help.
I didn't have anyone else to tell and I didn't want to see a doctor. What would I say? I didn't want to tell anybody. What would they think?

I tried to bargain with myself. I told myself I would take vitamins, drink more water, exercise and just make an effort to be super happy all the time.
But it doesn't work that way.

Fear of judgement as a mother is so real and so terrifying. I didn't want anyone to think less of me. But I finally realised it wasn't fair on my family and it wasn't fair on myself. I missed the normal me. The happy-go-lucky, relaxed, happy mama.

So I sought help. I spoke up and reached out. Do you know what?
I'm so glad I did.

No one has stamped "bad mother" across my forehead, dragged me to a mental hospital and drugged me up or taken my kids away.

Instead they have listened to my worries. Reassured me of my sanity. Explained why I am not feeling like myself and given me kind, helpful advice. Most importantly they've all told me that it's going to be alright.

Chemical and hormonal balance is not something I could solve with wishful thinking or bargaining. My anxiety is always going to be there. It's a disorder. And that's okay. That's nothing to be ashamed of. I didn't choose it, I didn't do anything wrong and I didn't cause it. I am no less a good mother or wife.
I am human.

I've explored, discussed and chosen the help options that I feel the most comfortable with at this time and surrounded myself with support and love.

I wish there was less stigma around postpartum issues and I hope that anyone who experiences something like this is accepted and met in such a kind and supportive way as I have.

I am not going to be back to normal overnight and when I say "normal" I mean to a managable state of anxiety that I can live with daily. But I will get there one day and I already feel much better knowing I'm not alone and I have a plan in place. As my husband's tattoo says: Such is life.

For now, my kids are oblivious, happy and healthy. My husband will forgive me (eventually and probably once I bribe him enough, wink! Wink) and me?
Well I'm getting there. One day. One week. One deep breath at a time...and that's okay.

Below are some links that will take you to various websites and articles that have helped me in the last month or so. Sometimes you don't need the medical mumbo jumbo but just someone talking about it and feeling like you're not the only one.
Remember- not every symptom applies to everyone and not everyone experiences the symptoms the same way and if you are ever worried you don't feel "right" there's no shame in talking about it to someone you trust.

http://www.postpartumprogress.com/getting-postpartum-anxiety-to-back-off


http://www.parents.com/parenting/moms/healthy-mom/the-other-postpartum-problem-anxiety/


http://postpartumprogress.org/2011/02/the-symptoms-of-postpartum-depression-anxiety/

So I am now the mama of two.
Saying that feels surreal and I'm still getting used to it, while feeling so proud simultaneously.

Something that I have found in my baby rearing days is that there is such a split in the ideas of how much a baby should be held. This is strange to me. Who is ANYONE to say how much time a mother should spend holding her child?

I think many people feel they are doing you a favor, a service by giving you their advice on the matter.

Less than 6 weeks into my first journey as a mother I sat holding my baby, watching him sleep in complete awe that I created something so astonishingly perfect and beautiful (as so many new mothers do) only to be told "you should out him down, you'll make a rod for your own back!". It was a completely harmless and genuine comment coming from a good place, from my mother-in-law. She had 7 children, one of whom I thought highly enough of to marry and the others all lovely, good people so that warrants a heck of a lot of respect in my eyes.
I am not one to turn away any advice, I take it all on board and use what I feel appropriate to my own level of comfort.

At the time I laughed and agreed, said I was silly and that I know I should put him down before I create some clingy, horrible child that is unable to separate himself from his mother and once he's grown up our lives will resemble "Everybody Loves Raymond".

2 years on and I am much more confident in my own style of parenting and furthermore my abilities as a mother.
This is not to say I know everything, I'm all high and mighty and don't need or accept the advice of others. Completely the opposite. I am humble. I am down and dirty doing the same chores as other mothers. I still seek and accept any and all the advice I can get.

The difference?

I am confident enough to listen to all advice even if I don't take it all on board.

You use cloth nappies? Tell me all about them!
You think children respond to hugs not discipline? Explain why!
You say babies should be bathed in chocolate milk not water? I'm listening!

I want to know it all. I'm genuinely interested. It just doesn't mean I'm going to do what everyone else is doing or thinks is best. I might take a little bit of everything and come up with my own version. That's what makes me the best parent that I can be. I'm doing what is best for my family.

Having my second baby within 2 years of my first really made me realize how quickly those 2 years went. It made me realise that holding my babies is natural. That it won't ruin them for life. That they will still grow up, they will still become independent, learn to sleep through the night and they will one day be so grown that they won't even need me around anymore.

So I'm telling you now, if you are a new mother or about to be one. That you will never hold your baby enough. Because one day you will look back, remembering those times holding them and wishing they were still small enough for you to do so.

On my down days I look to my children.
I created life. Just stop to think about that for a moment. I made two entire beings. A boy and a girl.
Wow, when you think about it, how amazing is that?

I am not only needed in a traditional mother/provider sence, but I am also wanted.
My son wants to play, read and laugh with me and show me things that interest him.
My daughter wants to be close to me, be held in my arms, feel my heart beat close to her heart.

The love of a child is the most pure, innocent love of all. And I am loved by them. Despite being indecisive and unsure of many things in my life- this, I know for sure.

While everything around me some days feels like it is crumbling, I can look to my children and appreciate life.

I see the sunshine stream through the window and make my sons hair shine as he plays cars and reads on the carpet. His eyes light up and he giggles an infectious, sweet giggle that you can't help but laugh at too.
I see his hands, small yet precise for his age. They explore and he is learning something new every minute.

I feel the weight and warmth of my daughter as she sleeps on my chest. Hear the sweet little murmurs she makes and when I breathe in I can smell the sweet scent of my milk on her breath.

I created life. I have love.
That's what gets me through my down days.

This time last year we lost a 6 week battle and gained our second angel baby.

I'm usually at peace with it, accepting that everything always happens for a reason- even if we don't always know what that reason is. Knowing my angels are together waiting for me someplace lovely helps my heart too.

But right now as I relive the memory and think obsessively about the milestone, I can't help but feel that deep, numbing, hollow pain and sorrow in my heart all over again.

I've really struggled this week especially since it's the first time Lachy's been away for work again in months.

Some might not understand and take my mourning the wrong way. Don't get me wrong- I have more than I ever wanted or imagined in life and for that I'm eternally grateful. I will never forget that.

In fact, I sometimes feel guilty for mourning the two babies we've lost because I know I am so lucky to have two beautiful, healthy children in my arms everyday.

They are the best kids. So well behaved, beautiful and clever. I get overwhelmed and teary with emotion and love just being with them sometimes. I can't believe they are mine.

But do you know what? Sometimes they make me miss my angels more.
Because of the "I wonder" and "what if" that runs through my mind.
I wonder if my angels would have eyes like John-Jackson or Maggie's nose?
I wonder if they would be close, share a sweet bond like John-Jackson and Maggie do?
There are infinity and one "I wonders" and "what ifs" that play through my mind.

I've been biting my lip fighting the tears and just pouring all my energy into being extra busy and fun during the days this week with John-Jackson and Maggie instead of allowing tears.

Though tonight with the kids asleep I curl up in bed, hug my pillow and let them flow. I think all the thoughts I've been pushing aside and feel all the feelings I've been ignoring.

Why? Because I learnt somewhere along the journey so far that you can be strong but part of that strength is embracing and working through the sadness.
That's the only way to wake up again everyday. I look at the husband, son and daughter that I'm blessed with and I get up and make the most of this life we are lucky to have together.

Jessicca xx

[Image via pinterest]

I like to think I'm generally a pretty relaxed, go with the flow type parent. Which seems to work for us because both kids sleep through the night, rarely have tantrums and are just overall well behaved, happy kids.

But lately I've been struggling to keep my cool when it comes to mealtimes.

What's my almost 2 year old eaten in the last few months?

Bananas. Vegemite on toast. Dried fruit + peanut mix (I might as well get a pet monkey!).

Oh, I of course can't forget to mention the odd bowl of vanilla ice cream on nights when I give up and figure it's better than him going to bed starving or me loosing the plot.

Come dinnertime I am faced with flat out refusal to eat anything other than the earlier mentioned foods. Hands over the mouth, twisting away and of course "no, no, NO!".

The amount of food wasted could probably feed a small country and if it keeps being thrown to our pet dogs I'm sure they will soon become overweight.

I've made every attempt to try and get him to eat lunch or dinner.
I've tried to get him involved in the cooking side of things to spark some food interest, I've banished snacks unless it's fruit, meat or vegetables (in which case he then usually doesn't snack either), I've cooked every toddler meal idea on pinterest and read every article about tricks to feed picky eaters.

I've also had weak parenting moments where I resorted to bribery and tried playing "good cop/bad cop".
Still it seems like nothing works and I'm hanging in by a thread.

I don't want to dread going to dinner with family and having to lie through my teeth about what a big, late lunch we all had when my son doesn't eat anything but bread for dinner. I don't want to worry about him being starving all night once he's gone to bed after not eating a bite.

Sometimes I leave a drink of water and a fruit bar on the toy chest at the end of his bed in case we wakes up starving in the middle of the night.

I can't bare to feel like I'm failing him every, single, day when I can't get him to eat anything but bananas.

Some say it's just a phase and he'll grow out of it...I really hope that's true because if not I'm completely lost as to what to do. Invest in a banana farm perhaps? Buy shares in peanuts? Learn to bake my own bread?

Someone tell me I'm not alone in this... I'm desperately seeking any parent or caregivers out there who have experienced the battle of feeding a picky eater and if you somehow got them to start eating other foods then I beg of you to enlighten me, share your glorious secrets and tips with the world!

Until then, if anyone needs me, I'll be rocking back and forth in the pantry praying we haven't run out of bananas.

I love sitting at my desk seeing some of my
favourite tags + business cards from people I've had the pleasure to collaborate with and buy from.

Instagram is so much more than just posting photos or networking for me. It's a place where I have made genuine friendships and bonds with like minded mamas, bloggers, online shop owners and just lovely people in general.

This online community is so inspiring to me. Everywhere I look there are people supporting and uplifting each other. There are people following their dreams, achieving their goals and helping each other through life. I know that in some of my hardest days there are people out there who are going through the same thing or who might at the least send me some encouraging emojis. 😂😉

I have been lucky enough to meet some amazing people who have helped me find the courage to pursue my own dreams, to take a leap of faith and share my own passion (@paperladyco).

The world is changing. Business, people and lives are changing. A whole new era of online, hustlers and creators is emerging and I know personally I'm so very excited to be witness to it, to support it and hopefully be a small part of it.

Supporting local/small business isn't a phase, it's the future. More and more people are investing their time into fulfilling a need/designing a product and more people are supporting them.

I know of many people who have pursued their hobbies, passions and dreams by starting small online which has lead them to such a level of success that they now have left their "real jobs" and work full time from home or studios creating and living their dreams.

For me and many others, buying from a local or small business is because of a combination of reasons including supporting the person behind the brand whether it be a mother trying to earn money so she can work from home with her kids or a young person following their dream rather than getting some checkout chick job at the supermarket.

Plus buying small usually means you get a much an original and higher quality product and much more personal, customer service experience.

I would rather save my pennies and buy from a small business wherever I can and know that my purchase is much more valued.

Hey- Maybe I'm helping a mama be able to afford to buy brand new shoes for their child for school rather than second hand ones. Maybe part of the money from my purchase is going to the sellers chosen charity to help them support a cause close to their heart.

All I know is that there is good in this. People are coming together. People are getting creative. People are succeeding.

Isn't that something you'd like to be a part of? Next time you shop, shop small.