Admitting you're not ok is sometimes the hardest part

If you follow me on Instagram you might have seen my post earlier this week about Maddox’s christening. And talking about PND.

I’ve never really openly spoken about PND; not even to my nearest and dearest. I didn’t even tell Tom - because I didn’t need to. He knew; and he actually ended up telling me. 

I only told my mum after I’d been to the doctor (who wasn't any help whatsoever, but I’ll come back to that later). 

And other than that, I don’t think I ever described it as what it was. 

I remember vividly walking with my best friend one day. We’d walked from Goole to Howden to go to Kitchen (a regular weekly jaunt) and we were walking back when I told her I felt really overwhelmed by everything at times and like I was struggling. And that was as much as I said. 

I think I was still in denial at this point, not realising that those things were postnatal depression. 

What sparked me to talk about it was Maddox’s christening. So we had him christened on Sunday and then went for Sunday dinner after. We had just 16 of our family and friends there and kept it really small. 

Peyton’s christening was the complete opposite. It was like our wedding all over again with 70+ people there.

In the run-up to her christening I was dreading it. I wasn’t excited. All I could do was worry about her and the day. I was anxious she’d kick off all day with being passed around, worried she wouldn’t nap, worried about how I’d feed her, anxious about how many people were going to be there… just about everything. And when it came to the day, I hated every second. 

I couldn’t relax, I didn’t want to socialise, I didn’t want to be there. I couldn’t wait for it to be over and us to go home. 

That was the November, and it wasn’t until the January that Tom finally said “I think you’ve got postnatal depression”. 

Some days I felt like I was drowning, like I was constantly trying to keep my head above water. Even the most simple of tasks felt like they were impossible. 

I remember one day trying to put the food shop away after it was delivered. Peyton was crawling around and crying, wanting to be picked up. She kept picking up bits of the shopping and either trying to eat through the wrapper/smashing it on the floor. Her crying got worse and worse as she was fed up of waiting. I was just getting the fruit out of its bags and putting it in the fruit bowl and could feel my heart rate going ten to the dozen. I had the plastic bags to put in the bin but the bin lid wouldn’t open. I kept hitting the lid but nothing was happening. She was still screaming. My head felt like it was about to explode. I burst into tears and finally the bin lid opened. I threw everything in and slammed the lid so hard, letting out a big scream in the process. The slam, and my scream, were so loud that Peyton stopped crying in shock. Then she looked at me and started crying even worse. It was horrendous. I remember picking her up and taking her into the lounge and just cuddling her, both of us crying. 

I felt like the worst mum ever. I was trying so hard but nothing ever felt like it was right. 

Just thinking about it now, writing it all down, is making me fill up (I’m sat in Kitchen on my own, enjoying a peaceful drink while Maddox is on his settling in session at nursery, so not the best time to be starting to cry haha!)

Anyway, when Tom finally realised something was wrong, I phoned the doctors. I cried down the phone to the receptionist as I said I wasn’t coping. She was lovely and so understanding. She booked me in to see a doctor and, when I saw her, I cried again. I sat and sobbed as I tried to explain what was wrong. It was hard because I didn’t know - I just felt like I couldn’t cope. I was overwhelmed most days. I resented Tom for going out to work and getting to do his own thing while I was caring for a baby on my own all day. But then I felt guilty for feeling all these things and like I was a failure for not enjoying motherhood and not relishing in every moment. 

But nobody tells you that you won’t love every second. Some days are fucking hard. Like really hard.

I spilled my heart out to this doctor, who gave me various options of medication. However, because she wasn’t fully qualified, or something, she couldn’t prescribe me anything and I’d need to see another doctor and tell them everything again. I felt crushed. I didn’t expect to be “fixed” straight away, but I’d hoped I’d come away with something to help.

She gave me some leaflets and recommended I look up PANDAS on Facebook for support. And told me to make another appt. In the meantime, she said that I should talk to my family and friends and get some support. 

I didn’t want to talk about it because I didn’t want to admit it. I had only just been able to admit it to myself, admitting it to others was out of the question. 

I never did go back and make another appointment. I confided a lot in Tom, and made sure I made more time for myself. Then it wasn’t long til I was going back to work, and that helped me massively. I finally had something for me. I had adult conversation, I spent days with my friends, I laughed, I used my brain, and I got to do something I felt good at. 

Over time, everything got easier. Peyton got easier too, which helped. Suddenly I didn’t have any of those thoughts or feelings any more. And it felt great. But I felt so sad that I’d missed enjoying so much of those early days with her because of how I felt.

This time around it’s been totally different. Tom was so aware of how I felt last time so went above and beyond to be there for me and to share everything so I didn’t feel the same way again. 

I haven’t felt anywhere near as blue as I felt the first time. I’ve loved every second of my maternity leave. And, typically, it feels like it’s gone by ten times faster. 

I worried that I might find things hard again this time, if not harder. Especially as I haven’t had anywhere near as much “me time” away from Maddox as I did with Peyton. Tom and I have only been out once for a meal without either child, whereas we did it loads when Peyton was a baby. And I’ve only left him a handful of times. With Peyton, my mum used to have her all the time when I had nail appointments or even just so I could go to the supermarket. 

Sat writing this, on my own in a tea room, feels so weird. Maddox has basically been joined to my hip for the last seven and a half months. He’s come to my hair appointments, my nail appointments, my blood taking clinic, the doctors with me, Peyton's gymnastics classes… 

He starts nursery in less than two weeks and is there having his first solo settling in session today! By this point with Peyton I’d basically weaned her off the boob onto formula and was fully ready for her to start - and me to go back to work. I think, again, that was my PND as I was trying to rush through every stage to get to the next in the hope that everything would be less foggy.

This time, I haven’t even thought about weaning him off the boob, and I definitely don’t feel as ready for him to be leaving me. But I know he’s ready and I know he’ll love it.

It’s selfish of me to want to keep him with me because everyone else needs to experience what an absolute delightful ray of sunshine he is. 

I start a new job when he starts nursery, which I’m very excited about! 

I’m so glad my maternity experience has been so much better this time. Although sad that I couldn’t have felt like this with P. 

To anyone else who might be feeling like I was, I really recommend finding someone to talk to. Someone you’re close to - or even someone you’re not. Often it’s easier to open up when the person doesn’t know you that well. 

I’m always here if anyone needs to offload or vent. I wish I’d taken up people’s offers of that before, then maybe I wouldn’t have got to feeling as bad as I did. Because it wasn’t just about feeling overwhelmed and like I couldn’t cope and just like everything was against me, I felt embarrassed. And there’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s ok not to be ok! And admitting you’re not ok is sometimes the hardest part. 

I feel like 'me' again

This week, 16 weeks after re-joining Slimming World, I reached my target and lost the final one and a half stone of baby weight.

It's been the hardest to lose, and at times has felt really slow. My first week I lost 5.5lbs and I thought I'd be at target in a matter of weeks. However, from there, it was slow going; losing a pound or half a pound each week. I had a few gains along the way - Peyton's birthday and our friends' wedding - but these were only small, thank goodness.

I wouldn't say I felt any pressure, other than from myself, to lose the 'baby weight'. Society does trick us a bit into thinking all these celebs and Insta influencers 'snap back' within days; but they've probably got armies of chefs and personal trainers helping them throughout their pregnancies. If my confidence hadn't taken such a knock, I probably wouldn't have felt any rush to try and slim back down. But I was really feeling it, so back to group I went.

When I did Slimming World the first time, I joined in November 2015.

This was the 'before and after' I used to use, from round one...

For those who didn't read my blogs back then, I'll give you a bit of background.

I had been toying with joining for months after feeling really, really unhappy while on holiday in Rhodes in the August. I could never pluck up the courage to go, though. I tried every 'quick fix' out there. From teas that make you shit through the eye of a needle, to tablets that 'suppress your appetite'. Yeah, they all gave me short-term results, but it wasn't the answer.

One week, a lovely lady named Beth contacted me at work to do a story about her weight loss journey ahead of her new Slimming World group opening in Selby.

She sounded lovely and I got this sudden burst of confidence and fired off an email asking for more information because I wanted to join. I'd committed then, and knew I had to turn up that Wednesday.

I went along and was shocked at how much I weighed when I stood on the scales for the first time. I knew my clothes were tight, and I wasn't particularly happy with how I looked, but didn't realise the number would be quite so high. My BMI put me in the "overweight", almost "obses", category; and I was not too pleased.

The weight absolutely dropped off me and by Christmas, just six weeks later, I was already a stone and a half lighter. By the start of March I'd lost two and a half stone and was at target.

I managed to maintain that until we got married in the following May, and for my best friend's wedding in the August. We went on honeymoon September 2017 and, soon after, I discovered I was pregnant.

I had all good intentions of following Slimming World (to a degree) while pregnant. However, that plan went out the window when I was hit with terrible sickness in the early days. I went completely off fruit and veg and literally only wanted to eat dry, plain, carb-y things (and chocolate).

I absolutely ballooned whilst I was pregnant. In one of the first blogs I wrote, shortly after announcing I was expecting, I remember saying that I could see I was going to be like Kim Kardashian when she was pregnant with North; and I wasn't far off the mark.

I put on over five stone from going away on honeymoon to Peyton being born. It actually turns my stomach a bit thinking about it. Basically, I put on about half my current body weight.

I have always struggled with body image and body confidence. When I got to target initially, my body confidence was probably the best it's ever been. I felt comfortable in absolutely anything and didn't bat an eyelid.

When I was pregnant, it absolutely nose-dived. It was made worse by everyone thinking it was ok to say how "massive" I was, and forever question if I was sure there was only one in there. There's nothing worse when you feel rubbish about yourself for everyone to constantly comment on that one thing.

If someone had a complex about their nose, you wouldn't go up to them everytime you saw them and say "wow your nose looks huge today mate!"

After Peyton was born, I was in a really bad place when it came to my body and body image. I was absolutely covered in stretch marks, in places I never even expected. Some of them are really, really deep, too.

I couldn't ever see a way where I would be back in my size 10 skinny jeans, and I was so unhappy.

The weight fell off quite quickly to begin with; as it often does when you've a lot to lose. By Christmas, I'd lost about half of the weight and was roughly back to my original starting weight when I joined Slimming World in 2015.

I told myself that when I went back to work, and was back in a routine, I'd go back to group to shift the last lot. While I do find it easy to follow Slimming World on my own, nothing beats the support you get from everyone else to give you that extra boost along the way.

When I rejoined, the first week of May, I had 1.5 stone to go.

Back in January we'd booked our holiday and the thought of wearing any kind of swimwear filled me with absolute dread. I have said previously that my body confidence was at such a low I didn't think I'd ever wear a bikini again.

Even when I started back at Slimming World, I wasn't convinced I'd feel the same when I got to target as I did last time.

But, let me tell you, it feels even better.

The last few weeks I have seen such a change in my body; and myself.

I fit back in all my pre-pregnancy clothes now (apart from a few things which my boobs just won't play ball with; I'm actually amazed I've managed to lose weight but they've still stayed!) and have bought bikinis to wear on holiday! This is a major win for me.

I now love my body again; even my stretch marks - and that's not something I ever thought I'd say.

Tom calls them my "stripes", which is cute. I know that they should be celebrated because I got them growing Peyton, and I know that some women would kill to have stretch marks from carrying a child, but you just can't help how you feel about them. Everyone has their own demons, and of course there is always someone worse off than you, but you can't always think like that.

I was determined to one day love my post-baby body, and now I do. It's such an amazing feeling having my confidence back and feeling happy within myself once again.

I honestly love Slimming World, it has transformed me twice now. It hasn't just helped me lose weight but it's given me new-found confidence and new friends. Every week, group is filled with so many inspiring people; all losing weight for their own reasons, all fighting their own battles.

I haven't ever had to deprive myself of anything, either. In the last 16 weeks I've eaten a lot of cake (we've had two 1st birthdays, two christenings and a wedding), we've eaten out regularly, I've had a lot of ice-cream (I had two over the Bank Holiday weekend and still lost 2lbs this week!), and I've continued to have a social life (found a new love for Aperol Spritz, too!)

It's not a diet, it's a lifestyle change. And it's honestly changed my life.

Learning to like my post-baby body

Can I even still call it my post-baby body one year on? I feel like it's just 'my body' again now.

However, after being so hard on myself for the past 12 months, and beating myself up so hard about how I've looked, I'm finally starting to like myself a bit more again.

I'm still sticking at Slimming World, and have lost almost a stone now. My first week was fabulous, losing 5.5lbs, but since then progress has slowed somewhat. Last week I lost 2.5lbs, leaving me just 1.5lbs away from my one stone award. However, after Peyton's birthday celebrations, I feel a gain may be on the horizon at weigh-in tonight. 

Despite that, I can finally tell that I am losing weight. Last week I discovered (by accident) that I fit back into my pre-pregnancy, skinny jeans. I used to call them my 'target jeans' because they only fit me really comfortably when I was close to target.

Last week, as I was fishing around in the wardrobe in the dark, I pulled out some black jeans for work. As I pulled them on, I was puzzled as to why they had buttons on; the jeans I'd been wearing were an elasticated waist. It was then that I realised I'd grabbed the wrong ones, but I needn't have worried because I COULD FASTEN THEM UP! I could've cried tears of happiness. 

I could sit down in them without feeling like I was being sliced in half by cheese wire, and I didn't have as much of a muffin top as I expected. So, off I went to work proudly sporting my size 10s (not that anybody would have ever known any difference to the size 12 elasticated waist babies).

People have also started to notice now that I've lost weight. And, honestly, that's the biggest motivation for me. Often you can't tell in yourself, and I only ever can by how my clothes fit me, so it's so rewarding to hear it from someone else. It makes the times I've refused cake worthwhile!

We were at a christening at the weekend, when I became godmother to our best friends' baby girl, and I was really struggling to find an outfit. I spent a whole day at Meadowhall traipsing round the shops twice; all with Peyton in tow. I tried loads on and hated how I looked in every single thing.

As I was about to give up and cry the whole way home, I popped into Topshop again. I don't usually buy anything from Topshop. I find some things can be a bit too quirky sometimes and always more expensive than I am willing to pay. However, I found a gorgeous skirt which was exactly what I was looking for. It was a golden yellow colour and was satin. I took a size 12 and 10 into the changing room to try; aware that Topshop usually size smaller. However, I fit in the 10! I was absolutely chuffed, I bought the skirt right away (forgetting I would then have to start the hunt for a top...!)

I felt so confident and happy on Sunday, it's amazing what a good item of clothing can do. Unfortunately, Peyton's mucky fingers had one too many run-ins with my skirt and I ended up leaving with greasy finger marks smeared all over it. Cracking.

It's been a long, long road to get to how I am feeling right now. And I am still not there yet. I still have huge, huge body hang-ups. My tummy is still super wobbly and I still detest my stretch marks. However, I do feel a million times better, more confident and happier in my own skin.

I feel more like the 'old' me everyday. I've started making more effort with my hair and make-up on a daily basis, and have even started wearing my contact lenses more; rather than just hiding behind my glasses. 

Ever since starting Slimming World in 2015 I've been a huge advocate of the plan. Since starting back last month I have rediscovered my self-confidence and am slowly learning how to like myself again. We have a wedding at the end of next month and I would really like to be at target for that. I always find that having a goal helps to motivate me more, so fingers crossed I manage it.

I most definitely want to be at target for when we go to Dubai in September. And that should definitely be more than achievable.

So, I've re-joined Slimming World

Those of you who have been reading my posts for a while will know that, prior to our wedding, I lost two and a half stone through Slimming World.

I joined in November 2015 and by March 2016 was at my target weight. I kept the weight off for the year up to our wedding, and for the summer that followed while I was bridesmaid for my best friend, and then went on our honeymoon, put almost a stone on, and got pregnant. And the rest, as they say, is history!

I did go back to Slimming World when Peyton was around 6-8 weeks old, however, because I was still breastfeeding I think my "baby weight" was dropping off more because of that, rather than because I was sticking to plan.

I piled on over five stone while I was pregnant and, boy, did I know it. Every part of me got bigger: my arms, my legs, my neck, my face... It was just like someone had inflated me.

By November, I was two stone away from my original target weight. I figured it would be "easy" to lose this last bit so decided to go it alone at home, without going to group. It was hard for me to go to group and stay because Peyton was still breastfed and needed me there to feed her to sleep (it was far from an ideal situation), and when Tom changed his job he was often not home in time for me to go. I also didn't like to take her with me because I was conscious she would cry during image therapy and, while everyone would pretend to be understanding, nobody wants to listen to a crying baby when they're trying to listen to others talking.

I knocked it on the head and hoped that, when I started back at work in March, my head would be in a better place to get back to the Slimming World ways. I wouldn't be going out for lunch regularly, or having coffee (and cake) dates on random weekdays. I also wouldn't be diving headfirst into the snack cupboard because I was at home and it was there.

This didn't go to plan, though. I just couldn't get my head back in it.

As summer is approaching, and we've had a few tastes of nice weather, I've got so disheartened when my summer clothes haven't fit properly. I have two options - my summer clothes from 2017, or my summer clothes from last year. The ones from last year are ginormous (to incoroporate my slowly deflating belly and gigantic knockers) and the ones from 2017 are too small.

So a change had to be made; and back to Slimming World I went.

I re-joined as a new member because I found it quite demoralising when I went back after Peyton was born and I didn't get awards when I lost weight. And the awards are what keep you going.

I had a really good first week, losing 5lbs.

I didn't expect to lose that much. In fact, I was only saying at work before weigh-in that I thought I'd be disheartened when I didn't lose as much weight as I did on week one my first time around. But there was no worries about that - I lost more than I did during my first week one back in 2015.

I had an okay week, but didn't think it was spectacular enough to have lost that. But, I will take it and run!

I am so determined to get rid of this weight and feel a bit happier and more confident in my skin again. I'm still not mad on my post-baby body, and still have a bad relationship with my stretch marks, but I'm hoping if I lose the rest of this weight it'll go some way towards repairing that.

Peyton turns one in five weeks and I would love to be a stone lighter by then. Then we have our best friends' baby girl's christening, a wedding, our holiday and another wedding! I want to look back at those pictures and like how I look, and be able to wear outfits I'm comfortable in, rather than just whatever fits at the time.

My target is half a stone above what it was originally, as I feel it'll be difficult to get back down to that weight. However, if I find I get there quite easily I can always lower it.

For now, though, I am just focusing one week at a time.

Some days are hard, I find I have to be very organised; which isn't always easy when working long days and having a little one to factor into everything. Baby steps, though!

If I lose 2lbs or more this week I will get my half a stone award. Half a stone gone, just like that!

I still can't believe I lost so much this week. Not by doing any crazy diet where you blend weird things or cut out carbs. Not by busting my ass in the gym for hours a day. Just by eating well. And, I still drank half a bottle of red wine on Saturday!

That's why I love Slimming World. You can still live your life, enjoy yourself and be social while losing weight.

Sorry, but I'm probably going to bore you with regular updates each week now! I used to include everything I'd eaten that week on my blogs so I might do that again, as I felt it helped keep me accountable, but we'll see if I get chance to write it down/remember what I've eaten...!

Mini First Aid: a review

With Peyton being nine-months-old, I did feel like I was ever so slightly late to the 'First Aid party' when I was invited to try out Mini First Aid: Hull and East Riding.

I had heard of Mini First Aid before. They're a national company with franchises all around the country. Prior to starting baby-led weaning I looked into doing a course with them but couldn't find any that were all that local to me. There were some the other side of York, but as keen as I was to learn First Aid I didn't want to have to travel up to an hour to get to one.

I decided to just watching YouTube videos on what to do when a baby was choking, and clue myself up on the difference between choking and gagging.

But when Jodie, from Mini First Aid: Hull and East Riding, got in touch with me to invite me to one of her classes, I decided it would definitely be worthwhile doing.

The class took place in Brough, although there are also classes in Hull, which was just over half an hour away from where I live.

It was two hours long and was super, super relaxed. I was a bit apprehensive going on my own (I left Peyton with my mum and dad because she'd have been a bloody nightmare, and I'd have learnt nothing!) but I needn't have been.

Peyton was quite happy snoozing at my parent's house while I was gone!

Jodie has just had her second little baby so is currently enjoying the little baby love bubble at home, and a lady called Nicky was running the class instead.

Nicky has loads of First Aid experience, being a first aider at work, managing a children's centre and previously working as a Community First Responder. It was her experience in the latter role that gave us all some top tips on what to do if you do need to call for an ambulance. I'll come back to this later.

The class was a good size. There were three expectant couples - all due within the next month or two - a mum with a four-month-old little boy and her mum, and a mum to a four-year-old.

When I saw the three pregnant ladies I did feel ever so slightly bad, as First Aid is never something I thought of doing when pregnant. We did the hypnobirthing and prepared for birth itself, but nothing really for when she was here.

The girl with the four-month-old was there with her mum, she said as a grandma she panicked more when looking after her grandson than she did when she looked after her own kids so wanted to be clued up.

That's the good thing about the courses, they're for anyone! Mums, dads, siblings, aunties, uncles, grandparents...

The two-hour class covers everything from choking to CPR, bleeding to bumps, breaks and burns, and convulsions to Meningitis awareness.

Before I went, I thought the choking was the main thing I wanted to get out of the class. Now that Peyton has a few more teeth she takes big bites out of her food and, sometimes, I find she gags way more than she did when we first started.

However, after the class, I found choking to be one of the less important things that I took out of the class.

I had no idea how little I actually knew to do.

I had no clue how to do CPR on a baby, or how to check if she was breathing (aside from putting my finger under her nose or feeling her chest). I didn't know what to do if she burnt herself or how to treat her if she goes into shock.

I'm an emergency first aider at work (I'm going on my refresher course this week, actually) so I know the basics of CPR on an adult and how to help an adult who is choking, but it is totally different on a baby/child.

The thing we covered in the most detail was how to check if your baby/child is breathing and how to do CPR on them. There were baby and child sized 'dolls' to practice CPR on, which was really helpful. When you do the chest compressions it's so much harder than you would ever imagine, so it was good to practice that to realise.

Nicky also gave some top tips for if you need to call an ambulance. As a community first responder, she explained how hard it can be to find people's homes; particularly at night. She said to open all your curtains, turn all the lights on at the front of your house and, if you have a car parked outside, put its hazard lights on. That way, when the ambulance turns into your dark street, it can spot your house straight away. I would have never thought of anything like that.

Treating burns is something that had never even crossed my mind; but it's something I am most definitely going to have to do; whether it's a minor burn or more major.

I'll admit, some points of the course absolutely terrified me. I think I was more frightened than I would have been had I been pregnant and doing the course. Mainly because I know how adventurous/daring she can be, so was imagining all the First Aid I'm going to have to administer.

Needless to say, I bought the First Aid kit they were selling at the end of the class!!

Part of that, which is what really sold it to me, was the scissors in there. The scissors are able to cut through material - even denim - so are ideal for burns (although if the clothing isn't removed immediately you just have to cut around the clothing that's stuck to the skin. If you try remove clothing too late it can take the skin off too, which you obviously want to avoid.) They can also cut through the seatbelt strap of the car seat so I will definitely be buying another set to keep in the car. Nicky said they are good to have in the car incase you are in an accident and need to get baby out of the seat quickly. Although, I suppose, if you have concerns about baby maybe being affected by the crash you are best waiting for the paramedics to arrive. Anyway, that aside, I will be buying a pair for the car just incase!

The choking section was really, really handy. It reinforced what I had watched on YouTube but also allowed me to practice my back slaps, chest thrusts/abdominal thrusts on the dolls there. Again, like with CPR, it's amazing how hard you have to be. It definitely helped me to feel more confident, particularly at meal times. I'll still be on edge, watching her carefully, but I feel much more at ease now I have practiced what to do.

I also bought a handy magnet for the fridge which tells you what to do in the event of a choking baby/child.

There were other bits for sale, and I bought it all. I got the paediatric first aid book, which covers in detail everything we learned in the class (I thought this would be good for Tom/my parents to have a look at) and a hot and cold gel pack which can be used, as you've maybe guessed, as a heat source or an ice pack.

I figured if I didn't buy it there and then I would've forgotten when I got home, or wouldn't have got the same things as we'd seen in the class.

All in all, I would most definitely recommend a Mini First Aid class to and parents/carers. For £20 per person it is definitely money well spent, particularly if it teaches you something that helps you to save your, or someone else's, baby's life.

Before yesterday we had nothing like a First Aid kit at home, I'd have been so unprepared had anything happened. Other than Calpol and teething granules we had nothing! Now, however, we've got the contents of the Mini First Aid kit, which includes: two non-adherent wound pads, two conforming bandages, one pair of tough-cut scissors, two adhesive tape (hypoallergenic), two burn gel sachets, 10 uncoloured plasters, two elbow/knee plasters, 20 printed hypoallergenic plasters, two non-alcohol wipes, one pair of metal tweezers (because the ones I use to do my brows would not be all that practical!), six rust-resistant safety pins, and one information leaflet.

And it's all in a pretty green bag. Winning.

If  anyone is interested in booking onto the course, there are dozens all over the country. Just visit the Mini First Aid website and you can search for your local class. You can also arrange private classes in your own home.

It was definitely worth doing and definitely something I wish I had arranged to do before. However, with Peyton becoming more mobile and more of a daredevil with every passing day, I am so glad I did it when I did. Thankfully we've not yet had an experience where we have needed First Aid, but I'm so glad I now know what to do going forward; just incase.

Disclaimer: I was invited to take part in the class free of charge. However, the views and opinions expressed above are entirely my own and are not in any way influenced by anyone affiliated with Mini First Aid.

Let's talk body confidence

And let's start by saying, I have very little at the moment.

On a scale of 1 to 10, I'm probably around the 3 mark.

All through my pregnancy with Peyton I struggled with my body. At first it was getting used to having this little bump, then that little bump suddenly grew to an incredible size and I felt like a whale. I was forever the subject of comments about my size and it really, really got me down.

We went for a maternity photoshoot at the start of May, over 8 weeks before Peyton was even due, because I didn't want to be any bigger for the photos. I quite like the one above. I requested we try some silhouette ones and I was really happy with those.

We were very careful which ones we picked when it came to choosing them. Tom, bless him, just let me pick them as he know how much I hated my body when I was pregnant.

And it hasn't got much better now.

When Peyton was six weeks old I went back to Slimming World and the weight started dropping off me. I put on over five stone while I was pregnant and, within a few weeks of being back at Slimming World, only had around a stone to go to be back to the weight I was when I got pregnant. I carried on going, following it the best I could, until November. Then, it just got too difficult to go to group each week. I could never stay, and I didn't like paying £5 each week just to get weighed; when I could just do that at home. I told myself that that's what I would do, carry on at home and weigh myself each week.

Well, as you can probably guess, that didn't happen. Nope.

In fact, I only went and got a new battery for the bathroom scales two weeks ago.

Since we booked our holiday it has made me more determined to try and shift the rest of the "baby weight". I mentioned this in another post, but how long can you call it baby weight for and not just say it's cos you're a chubster who can't stop eating?

Peyton wasn't even two weeks old here. This shirt was my lifesaver in both pregnancy and the early days after she was born. I deffo still looked around six months pregnant for about three weeks, at least.

My problem when I'm at home is snacking. I am so hungry all the time and would rather snack on something naughty than fruit. I have a fruit bowl, and fridge, full of healthy snacks (which would probably fill me up more) but always opt for something more calorific.

I've made a conscious effort to stop snacking unnecessarily and, instead, have a glass of water. If I'm still hungry after that, I stand and stare at the snack cupboard, open and close the fridge a few times, look at what goodies are in the bread bin, then remind myself of our holiday and storm out of the kitchen (closing the door behind me so the snacks can't get me!)

I'm about a stone away from where I was when I got pregnant, and just under two stone away from my original Slimming World target weight (I'm going to start referring to it as my wedding weight, because I don't think it's a real, achievable target anymore!)

If I could get back to where I was when I got pregnant - which was after indulging hard on honeymoon - then I will be happy. If I can drop below that, then I'll be even happier.

However, it's not just about the weight. I need to learn to like myself again. I used to have so much confidence. After losing the weight for our wedding, and keeping it off for Soph's, I loved my body. I was a fan of high-waisted jeans and a crop top, and didn't hesitate about wearing a bikini on honeymoon.

Sob.

Double sob.

Now, the thought of wearing a bikini fills me with absolute dread.

I have so many horrific, horrendous stretch marks all over my tummy and hips. I know a lot of women have stretch marks and they're a sign of my body growing Peyton and I should be proud of them, I know all of that, but I don't like them. I don't like how they make me feel when I look at them, I don't like how they feel when I touch them, and I don't like myself when I look in the mirror and see them.

Some are really deep, some are still really dark, and, even just writing this about them, it makes me want to cry.

I really wish this was one of those posts where I sit in front of the mirror in just my underwear and show off all my stretch marks and say "here I am, I am proud of every mark because they helped give me my gorgeous girl", but it's not. Maybe one day, but not today.

Yes, I am so proud of my body for growing my baby for nine months, for keeping her safe and for delivering her; but I am really not loving what I am left with. And that makes me really sad to admit.

So, even if I can shed a bit more weight, I still probably won't be comfortable or confident. And I highly, highly doubt you will see me in a bikini when we are back in Dubai.

Here's a pic from Dubai when we were on our honeymoon - do you think I could get away with recycling these from September? 

I had a tattoo done on my hip in 2014 - what a fucking stupid idea that was. I clearly wasn't thinking about what it would be like after having a baby because, bugger me, it looks nothing like it did before.

Before Peyton it was a cute little infinity sign intertwined in a love heart. Now? Well it's just like some black marks mixed in with, you guessed it, more stretch marks.

I lather on bio oil, creams, lotions and potions and nothing seems to work.

God, this is really depressing, I am so, so sorry. If you're still reading, you'll probably need a drink now.

This was my last bump picture and it was the day before my due date - eight days before she was born! 

And this was the first time I fit into a pair of pre-pregnancy jeans - 8 weeks postpartum.

Part of me wants to ditch the scales and say I'll just watch the change in myself and stop obsessing over the numbers in front of me. However, I know I need that motivation in the numbers to keep me going. If I don't, I will have a bad week but convince myself that my jeans are looser (they're not, Nat, you've just not washed them in over a week!) or that my legs are looking slimmer.

We are going to two weddings this year and I really, really want to feel nice about myself at them. I don't want to feel conscious about having to breathe in all the time, or having a muffin top hanging over. I don't want to look at photos and hate them.

I want to feel as good as I did at my best friend's wedding.

It was the most beautiful, beautiful day for the most gorgeous couple.

Look how young we look!!!!!!

I've become so critical of myself. My favourite comparison at the moment is that I look like a potato. I say it now without even realising. I'm so, so harsh on myself.

And do you know what? I don't want Peyton growing up hearing that. I don't want her growing up hearing me saying negative things about my body and my appearance all the time. Because then she'll think it's normal and she'll start saying negative things about her body and her appearance.

I remember at primary school thinking I was fat and trying to put myself on a diet. I stopped eating cereal for breakfast and would just have a Nutri-Grain (even now I still can't eat them because they remind me of that time!) I used to throw away my packed lunch at school and not have any dinner because I wanted to lose weight. This was at primary school. I must've been 10? Maybe not even that.

I do not want that for my daughter.

So, I need to work on myself. When Tom says to Peyton "aw doesn't mummy look beautiful" I need to stop replying "no, mummy looks disgusting" and I really must stop talking about my "disgusting" tummy.

I have tried to boost my self esteem myself. Most days I was just wearing gym leggings, a t-shirt and baggy jumper. Whether I was staying home, going out - that was my go-to every single day.

I actually quite liked this photo because it made my legs look slim. It's all about the angles haha!

And this one made my arm look slim.

I've put a stop to that now and make myself get dressed properly. Even if we aren't going anywhere I will put on some jeans/jeggings, I will do my hair and I will put on some make-up. I have tried to take more selfies again, too. This sounds ridiculous, but stay with me.

I used to be partial to a selfie, but not anymore.

However, I've found if I take a photo I see myself differently. I almost see the old me again.

I bought this pair of 'mom' jeans with a voucher I got for Christmas and, sometimes they're not the most flattering, but they did the job ok here.

I don't see the frumpy mum with the saggy tum that I often see when I look in the mirror. I see pre-baby Nat who loved to fill her social media feeds with pictures of herself.

It's all about the angles.

I really am trying to get my confidence back. If you follow me on Instagram you've maybe noticed I've been partial to a few more selfies of late. I need to see myself through less harsh, critical eyes. If someone was speaking about my best friend the way that I talk about myself I would punch them. So why is it ok for me to be so horrible about myself?

Anyway, I will try and share my journey to self-love with you wherever possible. Maybe next time I'll be able to talk about my stretch marks without wanting to burst into tears!

And if a selfie a day helps me along the way, then so be it!