Trust Your Instincts…fact.

It's ok to question the 'Professionals'.  I don't mean you have to question everything, but if I have learnt anything in my journey of being a mother, it is definitely wise to go with your 'gut instinct'.

The first time I should have questioned 'them' was when I was actually in labour with Meg…..  I am a very calm 'labourer', I do not shout, or scream or make a fuss.  I am happy to be left to get on with the task in hand.  However, just before having her, I had the most dreadful pain in the back of my leg.  It was so bad, it over-rode my contractions.

My midwife said I was just tense, and needed to relax (bearing in mind I had actually slept through the majority of my labour and only woke for the last two hours, I thought this fact was slightly untrue…), however, I just couldn't think straight because the pain in my leg was so bad, and also, I was just about to give birth.  There was a point where it was almost unbearable and the Midwife picked my leg up and 'vigourously' rubbed it, nearly sending me into orbit! I would have sworn at her had Meg not have shot out, and with all the commotion of the new arrival, my leg took second, third, fourth, fifth and so on further down the line in importance….

Three days later I was back in A&E with two DVTs, one at the back of the knee, and another that had broken off from that and lodged itself near my groin.  Noted thanks given to the great Midwife who duly helped the clot travel towards my heart/brain.  It was hit and miss whether I was going to lose my leg or not.  Obviously from my ability to run to the nearest food outlet lets you know that I didn't, and all was well.

The second time I should have questioned 'them' was the day after Meg was born, and I had noticed how 'puffy' she was.  As this was my first baby, I had nothing to compare to and can definitely say I had no idea what was normal and what wasn't.  Obviously scared of every nurse and midwife there was (why, I have no idea, but when you are young and vulnerable, you are stupidly naive), I timidly asked one of the nurses to come and check her over.
"What's wrong?" she briskly asked.
"My baby seems very errrrm… swollen." I said
Efficiently whipping off her baby-gro with one arm, making me feel even more inadequate, she quickly looked over her tiny body.
"She's just got a fat fish!" She confirmed.
I could feel my face burning.  I didn't even know what was a normal 'fish' looked like on a baby!
Nine years later, when she was diagnosed with Turner Syndrome, it was so obvious that she was born full of oedema hence why she was so 'swollen'….

The third time I should have questioned 'them', was when we had a 'visit' from the dreaded Health Visitor.  Meg was 9 months old, and I was completely exhausted from her constant screaming, and lack of sleeping.  She came in and assessed her in about two and a half minutes.
"What this child needs is a good routine!" She exclaimed.
"She will not sleep for longer than three hours at a time." I replied
"Well, then you will just have to make her!"
She scribbled something down in her little blue book and left.

What the Health Visitor needed was a good kick up the arse, and a good whack round the head with her little blue book…...

I could fill this blog completely with questions that I should have asked the professionals, but I don't feel angry, or regretful, only a slight disappointment with myself.  Of course, now I realise that this is all part of growing, and becoming a better mother.  Knowledge comes with experience, which then turned into power.

And power is what all mothers are blessed with, if only we had the 'blue tac balls' to go with it!