I totally missed a trick on the maternity/nursing lingerie in the pregnancy and breastfeeding days. I didn’t get my first sexy nursing bra until my birthday when the baby was 10 months old. I had lingered too long in the “comfy” nursing bra arena to the detriment of my curvaceousness and my self esteem. More boxy and matronly in silhouette than voluptuous and MILF-y. Mr Mind The Baby treated me to two gorgeous lingerie sets and I didn’t look back after that. In fact, I missed the sexy sets a little bit once the breastfeeding stopped and I’d shrunk back to “assets as usual“. Continue reading Mama’s got a brand new bra – Hotmilk lingerie review
I have read a lot of pregnancy books. I mean a LOT of pregnancy books. I have a bookshelf that is starting to bend in the middle a bit due to my efforts to contain them all in the same place. I’m sure I look like some crazy birth nutter to anyone who stumbles across said shelf in my house. The beauty of pregnancy, labour, birth and have a small baby is that it’s generally universal, so books from all over the world can be useful to you if it’s the biology and theory that you’re after. That’s why I have many. Lots of perspectives and lots of experience. But one crucial element missing from those books is that all important local information – what goes on in your maternity unit – and that’s where the importance of Irish pregnancy books come in. Continue reading eBook Review: A new Irish pregnancy book on the block
So the High Court rubberstamped a human rights violation last week. In the same fell swoop, it also gave a big fat thumbs up to denying a pregnant woman’s right to informed refusal; removing a woman’s right to be the decision-maker and expert of her own body; and supporting provider preference for delivering non-evidence based care. The country was up in arms! Oh wait, hang on… Continue reading The High Court says we can’t say no
The first and only time I saw my baby’s placenta was when I stood up from a kneeling position, newborn in arms, and stepped over it on the floor to get to the couch. I’ve struggled since to find the words to describe it because eloquence has failed me.
The best I can come up with is “18s“. As in “not PG“. Does that make sense?
I found it quite disturbing to look at it. It was so real, alive, vital. So grown up and serious looking. Even now, looking at pictures of them makes me catch my breathe. When my midwife asked me if I’d thought about what I’d like to do with my placenta, I honestly answered “no”. She offered to take it away, I agreed. No further discussion took place. Continue reading Does placenta taste like chicken? And 5 other things to do with your placenta in Ireland