Do you know what I lost along with my pelvic floor muscle control? My patience. I’m not quite sure where it went, but it’s gone. If anybody finds it, please DM me.

I’ve heard people say you really learn patience when you have children, for me, it’s been the complete opposite. My fuse is short. Short af.

I love my kids, with all of my being. I hate that I always have to state this, it’s a no-brainer – of course I love them but there is always one negative Nancy who is like “well maybe you shouldn’t have had kids”, or some other shit comment that makes me backtrack to ensure I’ve ever implied that I don’t love my kids.

Lily is only 12 weeks old (only?). Where the hell did the last 3 months go? Right now, it’s Baxter. He’s two next month and his personality has changed so much in the last few months. He is so amazing when he is good he is good. When he is bad, by god is he bad. Or is he? I’ve started wondering lately if maybe he’s not that bad and maybe it’s just me and the whole no patience thing? I know Reuben constantly says to me “he’s just a kid”. And he’s right. It’s the whingeing that goes right through me like nails on a blackboard. I physically shudder. It’s the tantrums now when you say no. He’s getting smarter and he’s learning more each and every day. It really is a pretty cool experience watching this little human that you created grow and be so excited about life and their surroundings. Oh to have no worries in the world.

I believe a lot of my stress and lack of patience is linked to my anxiety and depression which I have struggled with a little bit lately. I haven’t been sleeping much and my mind is constantly on high alert. I look in the mirror these days and I don’t really like who I see. Who is this impatient angry person? What happened to ‘the old Jess’? 

While I know this new ‘mum Jess’ is an adaption of my old self, I’m still learning who I am with all of this change. It sounds stupid, I’m hoping one or two of you get what I mean. I still AM the same person, but yet, I’m not? I used to only have myself to worry about and now I am responsible for two tiny humans. It’s scary. Some days I can’t even decide what to wear, yet between Reuben and I – we make decisions for the kids which can shape them for the rest of their lives. It’s often a scary thought.

I’m working on myself, I know I’ll be happy again soon. Genuinely happy. 

Motherhood can be extremely lonely, while I am currently away from the office on maternity leave and Reuben works from home I shouldn’t be lonely. There are 4 of us in the house yet I’m often alone with my own thoughts. Yes, we’re a team but that doesn’t mean we agree on everything. It’s all part of it, right? We’re learning to become parents together and sometimes there are things that I struggle with and Reuben doesn’t quite understand. 

I know in time things will improve, I need to work on some techniques to improve my patience and anger. I need to remember that Baxter is ‘just a kid’ and that often these difficult periods are just phases and they will pass. I need to remind myself that many struggle with these exact things, but we don’t like to talk about it but hey? It’s pretty damn normal. We’re tired, we’re sick of tidying up the lounge only for it to be trashed 5 minutes later (literally). I’m sick of making food only for him to shake his head and say ‘no’. I’m sick of feeling like I am in a constant uphill battle with my own self. Striving for perfection, for the clean house that can’t stay clean for one whole day. It’s sound utterly ridiculous but when I’m surrounded by mess and clutter, my mind becomes the same. When things are clean and clear, I feel so much weight off my shoulders. I am currently on a mission to declutter the house and live in a more minimalistic way. Material things are exactly that and I would much rather be happy than own a few items which supposedly give off some impression of status or achievement.

So here’s to the shit days, I’ve just washed the same load of washing 3 times because I keep forgetting to take it out of the machine and it seems I am the only person in the house who knows what to do with dirty clothes..

20.04.2017 | 3.43am | 8lb5oz – Lily Luca Bemrose


I kept going to start this blog post and simply don’t know where to start because it all happened so quickly. I wrote about Baxter’s and had trouble remembering all the details so figured I’d get onto Lily’s sooner rather than later.

For the days/nights leading up to the birth I was certain that she was ‘coming that night’. Nobody knows your body like you do and I knew stuff was going on but clearly she wasn’t quite ready.

I’ll set the scene…

The morning of the 20th rolls around, 2am – I am laying in bed and think ‘hmm, did I just wee?’ I get up and go to the toilet. It wasn’t enough for me to think much of it. I figured I was just loosing my mind. 5 min later, def not wees. I feel a warm surge of liquid – “REUBEN, get a towel! She’s coming” haha.

A friend of mine had kindly gifted me some adult nappies, what a god send. I put a pair of them sexy panties on and jumped back into bed. Reuben tells me “go back to sleep, reserve your energy” yeah, ok – thanks for that. This is what we did with Baxter but clearly Lily had other plans. Less than 5 minutes after laying in bed mildly freaking out that it was all finally happening contractions started and hit me like a freight train. 2 minutes apart from the get go and getting stronger and stronger each time. We called the midwife at 2.30am and told her what was going on, she said to come in and said she’d see us within the hour as we had to call on Reuben’s parents to come out as Bax was in bed fast asleep. Waiting for them felt like an eternity to the point that we were down in the garage with the car running. Contractions in the car are honestly hell. I thought to myself “why the fuck am I doing this to myself all over again?” and then I remembered we’d soon meet our little girl who’d complete our family and it’d all be worth it.

They finally arrived and we were on the road just after 3am. Shit was getting more intense as time went on and I kept saying to Reuben “this baby is coming, I feel like I need to push”.

We were traveling from Lower Hutt to Wellington Hospital where we’d chosen to give birth and we most definitely ran a few red lights when Reuben realized I wasn’t exaggerating and this baby was coming, and fast.

We arrived at the hospital carpark delivery suite lifts, they’re locked after hours and you have to use the phone of doom. We called up and said “yeah, we’re about to have a baby in the carpark” and we waited, and waited, and waited…. I was literally leaning against the parking machine, nappy and all, crossing my legs in an attempt to keep this baby in all while some teens were in the carpark getting wasted. Fun times. After what felt like 10 minutes, we called the midwife to tell her we were in the carpark and an orderly had still not come to let us up. She shortly greeted us in the lift and we were on our way up to delivery suite. It would have been about 3.30am by the time we got into the room which Reuben labeled the dojo.

I literally when into sheer panic within seconds as everything was happening so insanely fast. I yelled at my midwife saying I needed to push, I felt SO much pressure it was insane. She said the rest of my waters hadn’t gone and that was probably the pressure. Within seconds of her observation and examination, WHOOOSH – the rest of the waters go and I shit myself at the same time (I’d hoped I wouldn’t as I didn’t with Baxter but honestly don’t even give a shit now I think about it – see what I did there). Great idea on the chicken tandoori, Reuben. Lol.

I am not even exaggerating, within seconds I was pushing, 2 pushes and Lily Luca was born at 3.43am. 13 minutes after arriving into the delivery suite. If you were following our live updates on Snapchat you would have seen the gap in Reuben’s story, it literally happened THAT quickly. I am scared to think what had happened if she didn’t come down and get us from the carpark when she did or if I’d gone into labour at a different time of day and had traffic to compete with.

Lily was born happy and healthy (well, so we thought). In the days prior we learned that she’d potentially contracted some type of viral infection and her body was not strong enough to fight it off. She was having trouble with her breathing and was not maintaining a healthy body temp. We spent 4 days in the Wellington Children’s Hospital and I cannot express enough how amazing the staff were throughout our stay.

It was an extremely tough and emotional time for me since EVERY single family member on both sides got hit with Gastro. Dad, Mum (passed out at our place while caring for Baxter and got concussion), Baxter, Reuben’s Mum & Dad and then Reuben dramatically collapsed at the Children’s Hospital and spent the day in a private room there in isolation vomiting etc. It was fucking tough I tell you, due to everybody being sick and us not wanting Lily to be exposed to it I was doing this all on my own. It was difficult for Reuben and the rest of the families as they weren’t even able to see Lily. We communicated via text, FB chat and FaceTime. It was one of the loneliest and toughest few days I’ve experienced to date. It was so hard knowing Baxter was really sick and I couldn’t even see him and had to take everybody’s word that he was OK. I knew he wasn’t. I could feel my depression and anxiety coming flooding back and cried myself to sleep every single night. I put on a brave face/voice for Reuben most of the time but he knew it was killing me.

Everybody is OK now, Lily and I are back at home. Reuben and the rest of the family has recovered. Baxter seems to be 95% although I think some of his not being 100% is the getting adjusted to the fact there is another person in the house now. He is really good with Lily and comes in and says “halllooo lilllllly”. Cute af.

Reuben has been absolutely amazing despite all the drama. I can tell already that him and Lily are going to have the cutest bond ever.

So there you have it, the birth of Lily Luca Bemrose. Quite the exciting and dramatic story.

18011055_1311841305518642_3379587283164041577_n18056824_1316382791731160_3305918596822636936_n

Breastfeeding.

I didn’t do it for as long as I’d hoped but I did it.

I tried, I struggled, I would feed him while I cried my eyes out. The pain was horrible. My bleeding and split nipples would simply not heal. I would pump and in an attempt to ease the pain, the milk was red with blood.

I cried to my midwife, I so badly wanted to breastfeed. She was so supportive and amazing, in a way I felt like I would be letting her down if I made the decision to stop.

I felt like an outsider at my antenatal group catch-ups when everybody was successfully breastfeeding and I was fumbling around trying to prepare a bottle while Baxter melted down. Don’t get me wrong, our group is full of supportive and lovely mums but it didn’t change how I personally felt.

After weeks of pain, blood and a hungry baby, my partner and I made the decision to switch to formula.

I’ve come to the realization that giving up on breastfeeding doesn’t make me a bad mother. Baxter is thriving and happy. I feel like I made the best decision for me because PND was starting to creep up on me. I was in so much pain, I kept trying, I couldn’t get him to latch properly, it didn’t feel right and mentally (and physically) it was taking its toll on me.

Some horrible people say had I persevered it would have got easier, maybe so. I did what was best for me and my baby and to this day I don’t regret my decision.

Breastfeeding is easy for some, it’s also really tough for others. Mothers who do it with ease often don’t understand how hard it can be for others, to see you feeding and wishing we could have done it. If you are successfully breastfeeding, I take my hat off to you. You’re amazing. I couldn’t do it.

I dreaded nosy people asking ‘are you breastfeeding?’ not only is it none of your business, it’s fucking rude. You have no idea the circumstances or struggles they’ve been through. Anywhere I went I was questioned about how my child was fed, plunket, the doctors, even total randoms. I felt hesitant to tell them he was bottle fed and I really wish that I (and others) were not made to feel this way.

I don’t post this to justify ‘why’ I stopped. I post it so others in the same boat don’t go through the pain and struggle that I did, so they know that it’s okay, it will get easier and it’s true what they say – happy mum = happy baby.

Fed is best.

1506735_991162340919875_9189278745533744671_n

This photo was taken at the hospital 2 days after I’d given birth.