Luck, God or just random shit?

I don’t know if I believe in luck.  I stopped believing in God as a teenager when I saw the suffering in the world and learnt more about science and history.  I then liked to believe in everything being made from energy and read a lot of books like “The Secret” that talked about putting positive energy out there to get the same back.  Similar to Karma in what comes around goes around.

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I still have a fondness for churches.  Here’s Hallgrimskirkja in Reykjavik, Iceland

The energy, karma and positivity mantra was the way I always lived my life.  Some people believe in God but I have liked to believe in the ancient energy of mother earth, not in a chanting naked around Stonehenge way, but the idea that we’re all made of energy always seemed more scientific and therefore believable.

Violet came along and we were told at her 20-week scan about her heart defect and that it was bad luck.  She was an undiagnosed breach baby and I had her naturally afterwards we were again told “oh you had very bad luck there”.  Then Violet got her heart fixed by surgeons at Alder Hey hospital and all the time we channeled positive energy.  Other family members and friends prayed for her in a multitude of different faiths.

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The Priory in Cartmel a stunningly beautiful place

Her surgery was a permanent fix.  People told us how lucky she and we were that she survived but we thanked science and the talented people at Alder Hey.  We continued to think in a positive way and raised funds from our belated wedding reception for Ronald McDonald House to thank them for their support of us in providing accommodation when Violet was in hospital.

Then when Violet got sick again being admitted into Manchester Children’s Hospital we continued to channel positivity and friends/family prayed again for her.  After just over a week she seemed to turn a corner, we rejoiced and thanked everyone, mother earth, God, everyone’s prayers were answered…but then she suddenly died.  When we got her post mortem results, and then over 18 months later an inquest verdict, to be told she was just very unlucky and she died from something so extremely rare that no one could believe it.

We then got pregnant again with Arthur our rainbow and were told at his 20-week scan that he had irreparable brain damage and once again told that we were just very unlucky again.

Now if I was to believe in karma both of these things should have been lucky instead. I’m the person that buys food for random homeless people and sometimes helps them even further, for example I bought a homeless guy a sleeping bag in winter when he was sat sobbing because someone beat up and robbed him.  Over the years I have raised thousands for charity.  I’ve also only ever had rescue animals and do the middle class thing of sponsoring a child in Africa, so whilst I don’t do this as a quid pro quo or usually tell people whenever I do something kind, I should have a lot of good karma saved up right there. So I think the loss of my two children shows this karma thing is pure nonsense as for luck well….

As for God…I know lots of people who have lost children and are comforted by their faith. I on the other hand can’t believe in anyone or anything that can cause that kind of pain for anyone.  The pain my child suffered in hospital in the weeks before she died, and that of other children suffering in hospital too, means if there is a God then he is a cruel unkind one, so why worship him/her?   I actually in a way admire those child loss survivors who do still believe, as they’re certainly stronger in their faith than I am.

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We still light candles for our babies when we travel just in case – here’s the inside of St Ann’s Church in Manchester the epicentre of the city

I still try to think positively, as it helps me to cope day to day but I do it more because I think that Violet wouldn’t want me to be upset or negative and me being miserable and negative isn’t going to bring Violet and Arthur back. I also now have the adorable Aurora to care for so need to be the best version of me for her sake.

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An autumnal walk in the park with colds and coughs hoping the fresh air does us good

I believe kindness, compassion and good manners aren’t exclusive to those who are religious and my experiences over the last few years have shown me that often these qualities can be missing just as easily from a religious person as they can be present in an atheist.  I like to treat people with kindness and respect regardless of who they are. Blame my mother for this one as she clearly raised us well.

So to summarize I’m not sure what I believe anymore and maybe as one of my extremely clever friends said, “perhaps life is just a lot of random shit that just happens and if you survive then you either learn to deal with it or you don’t end of”. Not quite as eloquent as Forrest Gump’s “life is like a box of chocolates” but I can really identify with my friends version.  If religion is how you learn to deal with life’s challenges then good on you, it’s certainly better than turning to addiction or not coping at all.  Each to their own and I think child loss survivors need to push on anyway they can.

How do you cope with things or spur yourself to carry on beyond what you used to believe was your limit?

 

 

 

 

Emotional

Relieved, ungrateful, confusing, complicated, devastating, exciting, ecstatic, elated, happy, sad, angry…

Emotional is probably the only constant state at the moment, as with the majority of new mums, never mind those who have gone through child loss. I’m facing a wave of different emotions everyday but unlike most new mums mine include sadness, feeling angry, confused (how can you feel immense pain & pleasure at same time) & devastated that my older children aren’t here too.  I am a mother of three not one.

The midwife service would ordinarily have signed me and baby off by now and passed our care onto the health visitors but given the extreme circumstances (loss of two children) they are keeping a close eye on me alongside the health visitors, which is nice in a way, as it is a total contradiction to the care we had 3 years ago where we were forgotten about for the first few weeks after we left hospital. We complained at the time to Manchester’s NHS trust and it resulted in a full restructure of procedures for new mum care in Greater Manchester, hopefully meaning high risk babies that have undergone surgery shortly after birth won’t now fall down the cracks as we did.

In a way this is probably also now the reason why both departments are now OTT with our care.

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Me (tired & make up free but happy) with Aurora

 

Midwives and health visitors ask me how I’m doing then look at me carefully to observe my facial expressions & body language to see when I say that “I’m ok” if I’m being honest. They all looked surprised when I explained after Aurora was born healthy that for the first time in 9 months a lot of my anxiety and worry had lifted. I actually felt a huge sense of relief and was also in slight shock that at last the ordeal of waiting and wondering was over. She was finally here and was healthy. Sometimes it still feels surreal so I have to pinch myself to check I’m not just dreaming and other times I still find myself because of sleep deprivation accidentally calling Aurora Violet as though my brain has regressed in time.  Although I’m led to believe this also happens often when you have multiple children who are alive too.

Anyway got to dash baby waking for a feed…thanks for reading.

Love Sarah 😘 x

 

 

 

 

More of a mother? 

For years I have heard close friends and family talk about how they feel like fraudulent mummies because they had caesarean sections instead of natural births.

Other friends have spoken about the pressure to have done natural child birth, without pain relief, as though the more natural, painful and traumatic your experience the bigger your entitlement to a “super mummy” badge.

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I felt I needed to write this blog post about the pure bullshit (yes that’s the language I’m choosing to use) of this whole belief system.  I’m someone who has now become a mother as a result of the most painful natural birth, I’ve delivered a sleeping baby early naturally and I’ve also had an elective Caesarean section too.  I can say from experience that all of these make me equally a mother and each of these experiences posed their own challenges, unique type of pain and suffering (both during and afterwards, both emotional and physical pain).

My “natural” birth was undiagnosed breach during which I had no pain relief and both myself and my daughter nearly died. Now this experience, to some women I’ve spoken to at various baby groups, is lauded as making me a “super woman” and 3 years ago in the baby class tales of who had had the worst birth experience meant I usually “won” that one hands down.

I remember one woman at a baby group proudly stating she also had a breach birth naturally and when offered a C-section instead opted for a no pain relief natural experience and said she was proud she’d done it. What utter nonsense? As someone who has experienced it and without pain relief, I can hand on heart say I really wish I hadn’t have been through it at all.

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Baby Aurora a few hours old last week

Yes it is important for women to be able to have a choice in the birth process and for them to be able to have a say in their experience but at the end of the day the priority must always be the health of mother and her baby or babies so whatever is best for the patients should be what happens. For women to then wear their “experience” as a badge of honour, that they can use to bash other mums with (as if new mums don’t already have enough to feel guilty about!) is I think total and complete bollocks.

I’ve had people say to me, that they wish they’d have had the birth experience I had, instead of the C-section they actually did have, and as someone whose physical wounds and emotional ones still haven’t healed from my original birth trauma, I’ve had to say “ermmm no you really don’t want to have experienced what I did”.

So why is a C-section seen as the easy option or the cheats way? As someone who has now also experienced a Caesarean section with my latest pregnancy (actually last week!) I can say it’s certainly not the super easy and pain free alternative that it is lauded as.   Those women I was in hospital with who had natural births are already out and about with their babies in slings, pushing them in prams and lifting car seats into their cars to take baby for a drive.  I can’t do any of that yet because of the wound that still needs to heal across my tummy and I’m limited to what I can lift, stretch to reach and physically do.  I’m also on strong painkillers for the pain following the major operation, as that is what a Caesarean section is, a major operation!  Natural childbirth might be more painful at the time of birth but post birth C-section pain and discomfort wins hands down unless you of course have complications such as tears, prolapse, piles, etc.

Women at baby groups talk about their natural birth experiences in the same way we probably chatted about hunting trips and warfare as cave people. The stories seem to become more elaborate and embellished as they are repeated with some women seeming to get pleasure from reliving all the horrendous little details wanting to out shock or out gore the person before.  There seems to be an element of competition about the whole thing trying to see who has had the worst experience.

If women talk about their experiences with such great delight then why aren’t the genuine battle scars, including C-section scars, stretch marks & saggy boobs also celebrated by society and why are women made to feel bad about them? Should they not be championed as battle scars and showcased alongside the tales of woe?

Why are some women also made to feel bad for having C-sections by men too? Some men when I was pregnant and they heard I was having a planned c section actually joked “too posh to push hey?” With even women giving each other a hard time over childbirth what hope do we have for men to then react appropriately?

Do you feel bad about your childbirth experience?  Have others made you feel guilty about it?  Have you decided to change things with any future children?

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Tiny hands

I feel we have a long way to go when discussing childbirth but it is about time we simply celebrate motherhood no matter how our babies arrived into the world and we should celebrate all types of motherhood too, including those whose babies don’t quite go or arrive as planned.   It’s important to talk about child loss too and alternative experiences.

Love

Sarah x

Pregnancy after loss & now PTSD

When you’re experiencing pregnancy after loss you expect to be stressed throughout the entire 9 months, so every scan becomes a milestone and you count down until the next scan or check happens. It has actually believe it or not become easier as time has gone on because the more positive scans and checks you have slowly the better you start to feel too.

What you don’t expect only 2 weeks before D Day, which for me is C day really, is to suddenly start getting horrendous nightmares that stop you sleeping.

I spoke to my GP about it and she said oh that’s post traumatic stress disorder because you’ve had two extremely stressful birth experiences previously so the closer you get to your c section date the worse these might get not to mention the stress and grief from losing two previous children.

Great just when I thought I’d nearly done it and we were finally on the home stretch my subconscious seems to want to remind me of the nightmares I have had previously.

WARNING anyone who is pregnant stop reading now as you don’t want to read this part, if you’re squeamish too or eating at the moment (don’t worry there are no photos)!

In my first birth experience I was induced to give birth to Violet at 37 weeks of pregnancy, because they said it’d be less stressful for her, given we knew she had a heart condition and the crash team would be on standby to whisk her straight to the neonatal unit.  Unfortunately I wasn’t offered any positioning scan to check her head was definitely engaged and all the various midwives and consultants that examined me told me she was in a perfect position. We were induced on the 14th June 3 times in total and she was finally born the night of the 15th. Both of us nearly died, as it turned out she was undiagnosed breech and no one realised until her bottom appeared instead of her head. She was classic breach too so like a resting frog or a roast chicken with legs tucked either side and because of that her legs wedged her into my pelvis so she was stuck for over 10 minutes. They eventually had to use brute force to yank her legs out then tear her out of me quite literally. The afterbirth shot out with her like a pressure cork across the room along with nearly 2 litres of my blood. Violet wasn’t breathing when she came out so they had to resuscitate her before taking her to the neonatal unit and they had to take me into the operating theatre to repair the third degree tears caused.  Oh and did I say I was given no pain relief either, despite requesting some repeatedly for well over a day?  I now know the excruciating pain I had felt too for over a day was her toe nails and knees scraping along my insides on her way out.

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Decided to insert a happy photo of me & Violet – it makes me smile!

My second birth experience wasn’t any better as this time I had to deliver Arthur sleeping at 22 weeks and we had had to make the difficult decision to terminate him due to severe medical reasons a few days earlier. Apparently I was told it would be much easier physically than birthing a larger full term baby and as he wasn’t alive I could have maximum pain relief.  I opted for diamorphine injections so got my first one when contractions began and could have another 4 hours later. So 4 hours later happened and, as they were preparing to give me more pain relief, I starting birthing him so they couldn’t continue. It was explained to me that it’d be easy to push him out as he was so small and then all they’d do is give a little tug on the umbilical cord, once he was out, then the placenta would come away easily. So my poor tiny sleeping baby came out and then they gave a little tug but the cord snapped, so I started haemorrhaging, they hit all the alarms and the crash team rushed in. I still had no more pain relief but was told to take deep breaths while a consultant put his hand inside my womb (yes my actual womb meaning my cervix had to open the width of a normal sized baby’s head!) and he manually scraped the placenta out. Then another consultant had to do the same to check they got it all. In the meantime I’d lost a litre and a half of blood. Over the next week I found myself in and out of hospital with infections of my womb, extremely low iron and blood pressure. Not to mention dealing with the grief of having delivered my dead son, almost a year after we buried my daughter too.

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Here’s another happy photo – I actually hate my frizzy hair/no make up in this shot but her facial expression is perfection.

Today I achieved the first step to get over my PTSD as we had a tour of the labour ward and operating theatres in the hospital.  It was the first time I had been back on that particular ward/area since having Violet and I broke down into tears, as I was taken right back to just over 3 years ago.  I was proud I did it and hopefully now it will be easier for me to go back there again in a few weeks time.  Fingers crossed I will be much less stressed.

So there you have it the main reason behind my PTSD and the reason why this time they are giving me a Caesarean section so just hoping this one goes smoothly because I bloody deserve it (excuse the pun & the language!).

The amusing thing is that after I had Violet the National Childbirth Trust contacted me to ask would I consider becoming a volunteer to talk to expectant mothers about my natural birth experience! I said I didn’t think that’d be a good idea, as they would have nightmares, not realising at the time that it would be me having them.

Not many people talk about PTSD from childbirth experience so I wanted to share in the hope others come forward or feel less alone.  I know the vast majority of people have relatively straightforward birth experiences and I don’t want to scare anyone but no one really supports those that go through horrendous ones, so I felt I should share my stories in the hope others feel they can share theirs.

I have now been offered help in dealing with my PTSD but the treatment isn’t advised when you’re pregnant so they will work with me on it in a few months.

Thanks for the love

Sarah x

 

 

 

Violet’s third birthday

Last week was a hard week for us as it was our daughter’s third birthday and along with the happy memories we also had memories of her difficult birth, where both of us nearly died, and the memory of her having heart surgery too.

Violet at Alder Hey
When she was at Alder Hey in intensive care, when we couldn’t hold her she held our fingers & later on in her life she took comfort from holding hands.

This time three years ago she spent her first 10 days in various NICU wards, at St Mary’s hospital first before she was transferred to Alder Hey hospital in Liverpool. In Liverpool she had open-heart surgery at just 4 days old.  We had to sign a million legal forms and contracts saying we knew the odds were stacked against her.  That we knew she might not survive and return alive from the operating theatre.   And that if she did there was a chance of brain damage; disabilities and the heart problem might not be “fixed”.  We also knew her chance of survival without the operation was nil and she was only alive because of the additional hormones and support she was being given.

I still remember the day she went off to the operating theatre that morning was only the second time I had actually held my daughter in the four days since her birth. The first time being the day after she was born just before she left St Mary’s Hospital in an ambulance for Alder Hey, with her daddy in a taxi in hot pursuit, as we didn’t want her to be alone without at least one of us.  I had to remain in St Mary’s because of all the injuries I sustained during labour and as soon as I could be discharged to head over to Liverpool I was.

Me & Violet at Alder Hey
The second time I held her just before her heart operation

The days before her operation and the hours before it we spent time talking to her about what we were going to do together once she was out of the hospital.  We chatted about all the different people she would meet, describing friends and family members to her in detail.  We spoke about all the places we would take her to including New Zealand to see her Uncle Tom, Cyprus to see her Aunty Mel and Bali for mummy & daddy’s honeymoon.  We chatted about her Grandma and Nanna.  Said she would learn to swim.  We basically described to her then the life she ended up having crammed into a 15-month period.  I wish I had have mentioned university and her own children to her then perhaps she’d have stayed around for longer!

Me & Violet in Cyprus
Violet in Cyprus in April 2016

When they took her down to the operating theatre I couldn’t watch, as I knew I would end up screaming and it would distress Violet, so instead I collapsed onto the floor of the nearby family room sobbing.  Her brave daddy on the other hand walked her down to the operating theatre, talking calming to her the whole time reassuring her, reminding her how much she was loved and how strong she was, that she could do this.

Violet & daddy in Alder Hey
The bond between father & daughter was strong from day one

Then commenced the longest 8 hours of our life as we hung around the hospital waiting for a phone call and finally received it saying she was out and still alive! We were so relieved and our hearts sank when we returned to the NICU ward to be told that the specialist team wanted to speak to us before we saw her.  We thought oh no this is where we get told something bad has happened but we were told the opposite that the surgeon thought it was an 100% success and she wouldn’t need any other operations on that part of her heart again ever.  You know what we discovered he was 100% right too, as her post mortem showed his operation was a permanent fix.   This is the reason we are fundraising in her name for Alder Hey so superstar surgeons can continue to work their magic on baby’s that are told they only have a slim chance of survival.

Last week these memories all felt like it was someone else’s story, as though it was a different life and it played in my mind like a feature length film.

The thing I found hardest was the realization that ordinarily I would have spent the weekend before her birthday preparing for it by buying her gifts, cards and organizing a birthday party for her.  Then the night before I’d have been putting an excited little girl to bed and wrapping her presents to set up for the morning.

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Here she’s opening first birthday presents & getting excited about bows!

This year instead of planning her party the weekend before I focused on doing some planning for the Violet Ball to be held in her memory on 29thSeptember to raise money for Alder Hey to thank them for saving her life at 4 days old.  Instead of wrapping her presents the night before her birthday we decided to make up little “Random act of kindness” parcels containing little packets of sweets, including Parma Violets, and then on her birthday we distributed them all around the area where we live.  Including taking some to her nursery, leaving some on the benches near the playgrounds in the local parks where she loved the swings, left some near the mural on Beech Road that has a violet coloured balloon in her memory, some elsewhere on Beech Road near to where she attended Babel Baby classes and we placed some on benches in the cemetery close to her grave after we took her birthday balloons.

The challenge now will be deciding what we do next year for her fourth birthday? Please let us know your ideas as all will be considered.

Thanks for reading

Love

Sarah xx

A Mother’s Guilt

I often hear parents with more than one child talk about the guilt they feel about spending more time with one over the other and about how guilty that makes them, as they try to give equal attention and time to each child. Well what happens when you have several children but they are no longer living?

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Their shared graveside

I frequently feel guilt over my second born Arthur because he gets forgotten in favour of his big sister Violet, who is centre stage in everything & poor Arthur as the second child is pushed to one side almost ignored.

We never knew Arthur. Yes I felt him move inside of me. People, our family & friends never met him. He never babbled at people. He never laughed or cried. He never pointed at anything he wanted looking for someone to fetch it for him. He never sighed and rolled his eyes when I attempted to sing poorly. He never looked annoyed when someone sang nursery rhymes to him out of tune. He never orchestrated control of a room full of toddlers & adults so they danced to his tune, despite not saying a word. He never made his displeasure felt through tantruming. He never banged a drum or read a book. He never smiled. He never held a balloon or shrieked with excitement, if he spotted a cat or dog. He never saw or rode on an airplane or a boat. He never danced along to music. He never opened his eyes to look around. He never even took a breath or made a sound. Technically & legally he doesn’t exist, as he was born sleeping at 22 weeks, so he doesn’t have a birth or a death certificate.  He did have his own crematorium service and his ashes were buried with his sister. He has his own name in flowers on their grave and in time his name will be written on their shared gravestone but bless him he doesn’t have a lot to remember that he was here.

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A photo of Arthur

It’s much easier for us to remember and to talk about Violet as lots of people knew her, so there are lots of shared memories we can all draw on. We have thousands of photos and some video footage of her. She even had her own circle of friends, who we always remember at Christmas and their birthdays, as that would be what she’d have wanted.

Arthur bless him doesn’t have any shared memories or friends and didn’t impact any people other than our immediate family but he is still special to us. We still fight to try to get answers for his condition, in the hope that research might help others out there too. In time we will probably fundraise for charity for him also so he has a legacy alongside his sister’s but we’ve chosen to focus on our first child for now, as there’s a clearer legacy path for her. In her memory we will focus on helping other babies to have life saving heart surgery either here in the UK at Alder Hey Hospital or overseas in third world countries through a great charity called Healing Little Hearts.

This blog is full of photos of Violet and that’s great because we have lots of her and she loved having her photo taken too.   It is important for us to recognise that just because we can’t share lots of photos of Arthur or share amusing anecdotes about what he was like as a person it doesn’t mean he isn’t thought about or loved by us.

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Violet at 1 year old

I like to think too that if they were both still alive today that Violet would definitely still be stealing the limelight away from her little brother, as much as humanely possible, and she would certainly boss him around so maybe him playing second fiddle is just a symptom of him being second born, whether he is alive or not?

What do you think? Do you feel guilty about spending more time with one child over another? Does one of them hog the limelight over a shyer sibling?

Love, Sarah x

The Small Things

I used to be a self-confessed shopaholic before I had Violet I loved nothing more than a shopping spree round town getting a new dress, looking at the sales, maybe some new shoes, new toiletries etc. Now I hardly ever shop.

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Violet wearing a new pretty dress in May 2016 & it always cheered her up

Instead losing my children has taught me to appreciate the experiences life has to offer, rather than simply buying stuff. So now we’d rather spend our money on dinner out or save for a holiday somewhere or spend time in the outdoors.

It has also made us more grateful for our friends and family who have been so supportive, throughout these last few years. Yes we have had good friends fall by the way side but many more that have stepped right up to the plate to hold our hands during our lowest ebbs. We are so appreciative of these people, as it makes us realise that as cruel and evil as the world sometimes seems there are good, kind people out there.

There have also been near strangers and distant friends who have been so kind and gone out of their way to help us in small ways that mean much more because of the thought that goes with it.

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From the last party Violet ever went to and she loved a good party!

Some people have gone out of their way to remember our daughter by doing Iron Man contests, swimming Windermere, organising events and other challenges to raise money for her fund helping us to create that lasting legacy for Violet we so crave.

There have been lots of moments of kindness from people that have reduced us both to tears and we love you all so thank you!

Love, Sarah x

p.s. if anyone wants to donate to her fund click here  and tickets for the Violet ball on 29th September 2018 can be reserved here

 

Tantrums & wishes

Lots of mums and dads dread going out to the shops or to restaurants with their children in case they throw a tantrum or cry, creating a scene in front of others.  I know this as I used to be one of these women, although thankfully Violet was pretty easy going most of the time, preferring to people watch or read books.

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As a parent if your baby cries or throws a tantrum you look around to see other people staring over and you imagine them tutting thinking you’re a bad mother or that you are doing something wrong.  Often you don’t get to finish your lunch and you have to ask the wait staff to wrap it up to take it home with you to join the other half dozen half eaten lunches in your fridge, that you promise yourself you will eat just as soon as baby/toddler goes down for a nap but you’re so busy you never do get round to eating it.

I remember cringing when my baby projectile vomited everywhere in a cafe.  I was mortified.  Now I’d take that any day of the week!

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Now I know, if the other people looking over at you are anything like me today, then they will be looking over not in annoyance or pity but longingly wishing they were sat there with a child that was crying, throwing food all over the restaurant or indeed creating a scene screaming, rolling around on the floor.  I’d happily change places, rather than be sat there having a quiet peaceful lunch on my own or chatting with a friend.

Never imagine you know what someone else is thinking.  You have no idea what they think or indeed what they have been through so next time your baby makes a scene smile at those looking over and I bet like me they will smile back or even help to distract your little one, snapping them out of it.

Love Sarah x