This week has been a tough one with Sam away for the start of it, all of us being ill and me injuring my knee on Friday (it’s fine now). I nearly didn’t write this, but memories have been sparking in my mind, so I thought I’d share some memories from the many different houses I’ve lived in. Since there have been quite a few, I’m only going to include the ones pre-marriage, but if there is interest in the places Sam and I have lived in together I’ll write that too. This might be very dull for you, but I’ve enjoyed writing it!

Folkestone- The first two houses were in Kent. I only have very vague memories of a duck pond and the way the saucepans would rattle on the wall when a train went past one of the houses. I’m not sure whether I actually remember these things or if they’re from stories I’ve been told about our houses there, to be honest. I was only really young when we lived there, we moved to Cheltenham when I was about three.

Pinetrees– our first house in Cheltenham. I just looked it up on Google maps and I don’t remember it at all! I’ve seen photos of my brother and I playing in the snow with our neighbours but other than that I don’t have any memories. We only lived there until I was about 5 or 6.

Halland Road- we lived here for less than two years because it was the house we were living in when my parents separated. I have one memory of the house which I’m not sure is accurate so I won’t share it here.

The farm– despite my mum, brother and I only living in the farm for three months when my mum was trying to buy a house, I have a few vivid memories from it. One of them being a goat in our kitchen. There were also some labradors and ponies there I remember us befriending and, even though it was quite a tumultuous time in my young life, I have fond memories of it. I have no idea where it actually was, but it was somewhere in or around Cheltenham!

Old Bath Road- a lovely house with a Tudor-style front but I have no memories of it at all! We didn’t live there for very long before Mum found our next house.

Naunton Crescent- the house that houses most of my childhood memories. I remember sleepovers in the front room, climbing the apple tree in the back garden and sitting on a branch to read, standing on the wall at the front of the house to watch my friends coming or going, having one of those awesome bunk beds that had a desk and sofa underneath it. My bedroom was beach themed and had yellow paint that felt like sand and ceramic shells and sea creatures stuck on the wall. I had my first pet there, a hamster called Hammy (original), and one night he escaped from his cage in the dining room downstairs, climbed all the way upstairs and into my mum’s bedroom. I cut my leg shaving for the first time in the bathroom and sobbed in my room to Britney Spears’ Born to make you Happy after my first break up (in year 6). I can still walk around the house in my head and it often features in my dreams. It was an old house with so much character and a lovely long garden. I’d love to have a house like it again.

Windsor Street- as lovely as the house on Naunton Crescent was, after my mum remarried it wasn’t quite big enough for two adults and two kids. So when I was about 15, we moved to Windsor Street. It was a brand new house, some houses in the same development hadn’t even been built yet. It was a three stories townhouse and my brother and I had our bedrooms at the top of the house. I had a Velux window which I used to love hanging out of. The house was just round the corner from Pitville Park, my favourite park in the world, so that was wonderful, especially when we got our first dog. This was the house I would return to during the university holidays so it was “home” for a while, despite us not living there for that long before I left. I have lots of good memories from that house but also a number of really sad ones. It was where I lived when I had my first serious, turbulent, relationship and it was where a couple of family members went through severe depression. But it was also the closest we’d ever lived to town so it was great as a teenager to be able to regularly walk into town for my first job (at Evans, the clothes shop) and to see friends.

Lilongwe, Malawi- during my gap year I spent four incredible months in Malawi with four other wonderful girls. The house was yellow, all one storey and had a weird layout with rooms coming out of various corridors, very unreliable electricity and a few non-human creature friends. There was a lemon tree in the back yard and we had to do our washing outside. We didn’t have a TV or internet, so had to make our own entertainment. We had a toga party, we baked, we held our own Olympics, we played games and we crafted. It was our home when we were so far from home, so it was very special to us.

West Downs, Winchester- and so we enter the Winchester years. Ah, halls. I did not enjoy halls. I was not particularly a party person, and I lived with people who very much were. My bedroom was unfortunately right next to the kitchen, where my housemates and their friends would noisily congregate before going out. One very clear memory is when one housemate held a party in his room that got a bit out of hand and led to his friends puking in the communal shower and out the window from the third floor. Yay.

Crowder Terrace- a much more positive uni living experience where I got to live with my good friends. My bedroom had a window seat I could fully climb into so I would often curl up in there to read the many many books I studied for my English degree. Our house was close to uni and close to town, so a perfect location. My housemates and I would often trek into town for a McDonalds’ breakfast, we would cram into our tiny living area with friends to watch reality TV and we made friends with our elderly neighbour. Being a house full of girls, it wasn’t without its drama and our second year saw two strangers join our core group of three when two housemates left, which was a whole other experience. But it was so much fun living with my best friends, learning how to be adults.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip down memory lane, I certainly have. I’ve been privileged to always live in safe, clean, spacious accommodation with good people who I love and trust. Not everyone has that privilege so even though I would have preferred to have fewer homes, I’m very grateful.

As we’re at the beginning of the year, I thought that I’d share some rather random facts about me. I’m sure some of these will provide fodder for future blog posts too, so let me know if you fancy hearing more about something!

• I have lived in 16 different homes (ie houses or flats) in my life so far. These include places I only lived in for a matter of months, like the farm my mum, brother and I lived on for 3 months after my parents separated and the house I shared with 4 other girls in Malawi for 4 months of my gap year. It doesn’t include my dad’s houses. I had already lived in 8 different homes by the time I left for uni and since Sam and I have been married, we’ve lived in 5 different homes. I can sometimes feel jealous of friends who grew up in one house and have a “home” to return to. My mum and stepdad moved out of my last home in Cheltenham just when I graduated and got married. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me but I’d love for our kids to have a main home they grow up in. I could probably write a whole blog post about “home”… maybe I will!
• I have seen an eclectic mix of live music including: Cher, The Eagles, Bruce Springsteen, Girls Aloud, Jay Z, Rise Against, Paramore, BB King, Britney Spears and Coldplay, amongst others!
• I can only wink with one eye and when I count using my fingers I put my pinky up before my ring finger. Sam says that’s weird.
• I have a bright red birth mark type thing under one eye that I randomly developed when I was about 15 (so probably isn’t a birthmark at all). I keep it cleverly concealed under a brilliant concealer, Maybelline Eraser. Highly recommend.
• I am scared of bats, I don’t like eggs, nuts, tea or coffee and have a very low tolerance for spice. But I love hot chocolate and pizza. Probably not together.
• For most of my adolescent/teenage years I was a semi vegetarian in that I didn’t eat red meat but I did eat poultry and fish. This was swiftly abandoned after literal years once I accidentally ate a cocktail sausage. I wish I was joking.
• I have had numerous jobs after leaving university determined to find a job in the charity sector and facing a desolation of job prospects. I’ve worked in retail, dental insurance, childcare (as a nanny and in nurseries), in the charity sector (where I was made redundant after a year because: charity sector) and in a university. If pressed today, I couldn’t tell you what I would want to do for a job. I love being a mum and I’m happy with that being my sole role at the moment, but I will probably look to get back into work in a few years. I love writing but I also love working with people and kids so… The fact is, at 34, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
• I used to want loads of kids, maybe 4 or 5. Then I had kids. (Jk, I love them of course but also…)

So there you have it, me in a nutshell. I’m a natural oversharer so if you have anything more you’d love to know about me, ask away!

Way back when, pre-kids, I decided to take up running. I used the Couch to 5K app to get me going and as soon as I could just listen to music without the woman telling me to stop and walk every few minutes, I did. This is when we lived in Winchester close to St Catherine’s Hill, which was a perfect place for running. Largely flat and paved around the bottom, with beautiful trees and a river to look at, it also had the benefit at the time of not being very busy so you could run for a while with just seeing the odd dog walker. I pushed myself to run further each time, either turning around at a certain point or doing a full loop. I ran that route in many seasons, actual and metaphorical: unempolyed, employed, trying for a baby and briefly while pregnant. I think of it very fondly now as it was a really wonderful place to go for a run and it was right on our doorstep.

My music of choice then and now is a noisy mix of emo, punk rock, metal and screamo as the energy carries me and motivates me. Plus there’s generally nowhere else I can listen to it anymore as our daily soundtrack features more Gabby’s Dollhouse or Danny Go! than Rise Against and Slipknot. I’m aware that if I were to be a better gatekeeper of my mind, it would probably be better to steer away from such angry, sweary, violent-sounding music but in this case, I feel the end justifies the means, the end being me having a really enjoable time of exercise. Just don’t ask to see my playlist. Fred Durst makes an appearance more than is morally justifiable.

During pregnancy and the little baby years, I only ran very sporadically and I definitely wasn’t able to run for as long or far as I had previously. I found I just didn’t have the energy needed for running so my exercise consisted of walking and pushing a double buggy up Bristol’s hills. Not for the faint-hearted, I assure you. It was a shame I wasn’t so into running at the time as Sam’s college was right next to the Downs, which I only ran around a handful of times. The Downs, if you’re not familiar, are beautiful, huge open green spaces, flat and perfect for team sports like football and Quidditch (I’m not kidding) and ideal for running.

Where we live now isn’t the most inspiring place for runs (you can hop in a car for that), but it is mostly flat and I’ve worked out a fairly painless 5K loop door to door, primarily running alongside the main road. Now when I say 5K, please do not imagine me gleefully galloping constantly for that distance. I manage to run for maybe the length of a song, then I’m walking for a bit, then running, then walking etc etc etc. I want to be able to confidently run 5K before I increase my distance. My goal for the end of the year is a realistic one but I’m not going to share what it is until I beat it!

The gold medallist Eric Lidell famously said, “God made me fast and when I run, I feel His pleasure.” Whilst I don’t feel anything that profound, there is a sense of freedom and release when I’m out running. No one can make any demands of me, no one is climbing on me, my body is my own. I was about to write no one is shouting at me, but invariably there is someone musically screaming in my ear. I don’t care what people think because I’m there and gone in a flash, any judgement they make can only be fleeting. So my bright red tomato face can shine carefree.

I’m not going to pretend that I’m not hoping one of the side effects of running will be weight loss. That will be a big bonus but it isn’t my ultimate goal. Running gives me time to myself, a release of stress, an opportunity to not have to mentally unravel all the things there are to unravel in life. When I’m running, that’s all I’m thinking about. The music is pumping in my ears and I’m setting my sight on markers that I encourage myself to reach before I can slow down. “Keep running to the speed sign… that’s great, now keep running to the roundabout sign… that’s great, now walk.” As I’m pounding the pavements, nothing else can worry me, nothing else can touch me. It’s just me, panting and sweating away, doing something for me.

Do you love running or hate it? Has this at all inspired you to give it a go? Let me know!

This is very much going to be a personal look at this past year rather than looking at all that has happened in the wider world. I hope you can forgive me for not mentioning the bigger picture things that have made this a difficult or horrendous year for thousands of people. I also want to say that I am aware how privileged and blessed we are in many many ways, so if all this sounds indecorous to you, I apologise. Right, with all the caveats out the way, let’s get into it shall we?

This year has been one for the books for the Dinsmore clan. We have learned how to shout for help where we need it and put in a lot of work to get it. This year we have applied for and received: Caleb’s Autism diagnoses (private and NHS), his EHCP for school (Education and Health Care Plan. Our application was rejected initially so we took it to mediation and got the decision overturned), DLA (Disability Living Allowance), and Carer’s allowance. These applications involved reams and reams of paperwork, hundreds of emails, many appointments, and a shedload of my time. Stepping into 2024, it’s a relief to have these big ticket things crossed off our to-do list. They have provided support for Caleb in school and have provided us with financial support, which we have really needed at points this year. It was a heck of a lot of work but I’m glad we’ve done it.

Bethany and Lily started preschool this year and Caleb moved from his preschool to his (second) school in September. This has meant that I have had the luxury of time to myself a couple of mornings a week and Sam and I have often had Friday mornings together. It has made a huge difference from the extra year of having Caleb out of school where all three kids were often at home all day. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids and I love spending time with them. However, I also enjoy (and need) time to myself to get jobs done, clear my head, and flop. In recent weeks when Caleb hasn’t been in school as much as normal, I’ve found the lack of time to myself keenly, so I know it’s an essential thing for me.

I wish I could say that we were stepping out of the survival mode we have found ourselves in for most of this year, but that would be a lie. Caleb is still only doing short days at school, there are still struggles in that area, big emotions, sibling relationships, and the general chaos of life to deal with. Maybe all families with young children feel constantly in survival mode. Do you? I’ve heard life with kids aged 5 and under being described as being in the trenches, and yes, the war metaphor feels accurate.

The word I have used most often to describe life this year has been chaos. Both mentally and actually. Life can often feel chaotic when you’ve got laundry overflowing, forms that you’re filling in, emails that you’re chasing, and little people you’re trying to keep alive and happy, let alone maintaining your own adult relationships and sanity. You can feel like you’re coasting for a while but you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff and something as tiny as running out of bread can send you spiralling into the chaos zone again. Daily I find myself looking skyward and asking God to help me, which He does, if only to remind me that He’s with me through it all.

One thing I find the most challenging about our life is the unpredictability of emotions from all the kids, but especially our eldest. You can feel like you’re treading on eggshells a lot of the time as you never know how what you say or do will land. It’s pretty exhausting for all of us, but of course especially for him as he is often not in control. Whilst there have been many wonderful moments this year, I have often found myself holding my breath in sheer anxiety as we face challenges each day.

Another challenge is the mental load of being a parent! There was one moment just a couple of months ago that brought into sharp focus the weight of this load. I was getting the girls back into the car after seeing a doctor about Lily’s eczema when I got a message about a medical appointment for Caleb, whilst simultaneously my mind was ticking over whether I should book a doctor’s appointment for Bethany because her cough had been going on a bit too long. I sat in the driver’s seat, felt the overwhelm and took a breath. Then I reminded myself of something that I often have to remind myself of. “I’m finding this hard because it’s hard.”

It’s hard because it’s hard. It’s not hard because you’re a bad parent. It’s not hard because your kid’s a bad kid. It’s not hard because Mercury is in retrograde. It’s not hard because you’re doing anything wrong. It’s hard because it’s hard. Does reminding myself of this make it all any easier? No, of course not. But it helps me give myself grace. It helps me to validate my feelings and to recognise that that’s all they are. Feelings, not facts.

All this to say, if at times your life feels chaotic, if it ever all feels too overwhelming and hard, I get it. I feel it. You are not alone in it and I guarantee that the thoughts you’ve had have been thought by countless other parents and people.

As we leave this year and step into a new one, I’m keenly aware that I need to deal with the stress of being a parent, especially a parent to a child with additional needs, better than I currently do. How do I currently deal with it? Chocolate, doom scrolling, crying, Haribo and wine. The crying will be here to stay as that’s a healthy way to deal with things. The excess sugar is less so.

I’m already trying a few things to help myself manage the stress a bit better. One thing is trying to get myself up before the kids are awake. Just that half an hour or so in the quiet with God at the beginning of the day sets me up for a much better day. I’m also trying to be more aware of the things I consume, be that content on social media, food, drink or the books I’m reading. There is always a choice in what I let in, so I am striving to be a better gatekeeper of my mind, heart and body.

The stress of being a parent isn’t going away any time soon, and next year holds the potential for many positive things, but also many stressful things too, like every year. So come journey with me on this path of seeking how to stress less and hopefully in turn be the mum, wife, friend and person I want to be more of the time. (Not all of the time, I’m not expecting miracles, but more of the time).

Thank you so much to those of you who have been reading my blog posts. Getting back into writing this year has brought me so much joy.

Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas and a joyful New Year.

This year I set myself the challenge of reading 100 books. I tried to set myself a challenge every year and as I get further into the year I tend to increase the number of books I eventually want to read. It’s the 11th of December and I’ve read 85 books out of the 100 so I don’t think I’m going to meet my challenge this year!

As I’m sure you know by now, I absolutely love reading and I love to recommend books that have really grabbed me, made me laugh, made me think and made me want to pass them on.

So here is a list of 10 books in no particular order that I recommend you read next year:

1. American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins: I read this along with my book club and it was a massive hit for most who read it. I’ve already talked about it in a previous post but it’s a hard hitting book about immigrants making the journey from Mexico to the US. There are moments of real tragedy but also joy and it’s very evocative in its use of imagery. A must read.
2. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin: one of those books with a lot of hype but that was actually worth the hype. Despite it being about making video games, I found it really engaging and absolutely loved the friendships portrayed through it. It’s beautifully written and an easy read.
3. Still Life by Sarah Winman: this was the first book of hers that I’ve read and I absolutely loved it. A sprawling, long book with intercepting characters, beautiful prose and real heart. Set in Florence for a large chunk, it made me want to visit the city again as it makes it sound so beautiful.
4. Carrie Sotto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid: I absolutely love Taylor Jenkins Reid and this book did not disappoint. It follows a tennis superstar over her career and, despite not being into tennis at all, I really enjoyed it.
5. The Rose Code by Kate Quinn: not normally the type of book I would choose to read but I picked it up because an Bookstagram person I follow raves about it. It follows female code brokers in Bletchley Park in the second world war and gives an incredible insight into what it would have been like. Again, beautiful characters and relationships and just really well-written and engaging despite being a genre I wouldn’t normally read.
6. I am Pilgrim by Terry Hayes: It’s a very long (700+ pages) tome of a book but it is a-mazing. Definitely the best thriller I’ve ever read, really layered and complex but easy to read with short chapters so it feels like you fly through it. If spy thrillers are your thing, seriously, give this one a read!
7. Darling by India Knight: wonderful book. I took it on retreat and it was just the right mix of whimsical, beautiful, humorous and moving literature that I needed. Most enjoyable book to read this year I think.
8. Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors: there’s quite a lot of hype around this one (at least on my social media), but it seems to be quite a Marmite one! I really loved it. I loved the way it was written and the relationship between the characters. I couldn’t put it down.
9. All my Mothers by Joanna Glen: another book with a lot of hype! A beautiful beautiful beautiful book around female friendships and maternal relationships.
10. Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah: this is probably my favourite author at the moment and there were a number of books I could have recommended here. But I’ve gone for Firefly Lane. A brilliant book spanning decades of a female friendship.

So there you go. There were so many more books I could have added, and maybe I’ll wish I had included different ones in the future! I love being recommended books so please do let me know of a good book that you have read that you think I should read next year.

Have you read any of the books on my list? Do you agree or disagree with my choices?

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year…” yes it is a wonderful time of year, but it is potentially the most stressful. Now, life is stressful enough without adding a million things to our to-do list, with the dark evenings and freezing cold mornings. If anything, now is the time of year to give yourself some grace and ease your foot off the accelerator.

With that in mind, here are 10 things we don’t do anymore at Christmas time:

1. Send Christmas cards: 2 years ago I wrote 20 Christmas cards to 2-3 year old kids who can’t read. Why? Because everyone else did. We’ve not done Christmas cards generally for years now and I don’t regret it!
2. Buy presents for everyone: this year we’re doing Secret Santa with my family. It saves us from the mental load of thinking of presents and the financial load of buying them all! I know a lot of families do this, maybe it can become your tradition?
3. Christmas Eve boxes/Elf on the Shelf/elaborate Advent calendars: Christmas is overwhelming enough for us and the kids without adding more presents and expectations. No judgment at all if they are things you enjoy doing, just don’t feel you have to do it if everyone else is. I may get some PJs for the kids because I like the idea of them wearing nice new pyjamas on Christmas morning, because that is something that will bring me (and hopefully them) joy. Not just for the ‘gram.
4. Choose multiple types of present: last year when we were buying for my whole family, I decided to buy them all a book. Not the same book, but the same type of present. It eased my decision on what to buy and I just sourced them all secondhand off Vinted. Maybe one year you buy everyone experiences, or a jumper, or socks! Choose once then individualise. Also, would always advocate for secondhand gifts!
5. Visit Santa/Santa’s grotto: I know without us even having done it before that my kids would hate Santa! I just know it would be meltdown-central and I’m not here for that right now. The kids are at an age when they don’t know what they’re missing so thankfully there are no arguments here.
6. Elaborate Christmas lunch: Sam is very busy in the lead up to, and then working on, Christmas Day, so the day itself and Boxing Day are going to be as chilled as possible. Sam and I may have a small roast just the two of us, and the kids will probably have sandwiches as that is what they will eat. It will probably all be in front of the TV as that’s how we eat our meals. Then we’re seeing family the next few days which will be busy and filled with lots of food. Keeping things the same as possible as much as possible will help everyone on the days when things will inevitably be different.
7. Christmas fairs: crowded places with lots of things to look at are too overwhelming for our kids, so we give them a pass. This year I helped sticker a load of raffle prizes for the preschool stall in the lead up to the fair as I knew I wouldn’t make it on the day. It helped me feel involved and I was able to contribute to it running without being there on the day. Basically, there are other ways to help than being there at the event!
8. Buy all the Christmas food and things: we have a tree and decorations we use every year. I’m not making a wreath. We don’t like mince pies, Christmas cake or Christmas pudding particularly. I will be buying cranberry sauce despite being the only person who will eat it. We won’t be dressing our porch or covering the front of our house with lights. If you want to do these things because you enjoy them and they add something special to your Christmas, go for it! But don’t if you just feel like you “should”.
9. Multiple Christmas services: this one is particularly to the clergy families reading. You. Don’t. Have. To. Go. To. Every. Service. Lots of churches have services coming out of their ears at Christmas. There are Christingles, carol services, outside Nativities, inside Nativities, crib services, midnight masses, Christmas Day communions and Christmas Day family services. This year I’m hoping to take the girls to a crib service and us all to go to the family service on Christmas Day and that’s it. There will be Caleb’s school Nativity, but even that I’m holding very loosely. I love church, I do, but you can sing “Once in Royal David’s City” too many times.
10. Having high expectations: in my over 5 years of parenting, one of the biggest lessons I’ve learnt the hard way is to lower my expectations. This is from someone who naturally has quite high expectations. But Christmas (and life) with kids, whether they’re neurodivergent or not, rarely goes as you plan, or as you hope. So lower expectations can be more easily met and exceeded, bringing joy more easily. What do I mean by this? This year, it will be a win if we can get the kids into church on Christmas Day. If we stay for the whole service and have a great time, massive bonus! If we just get through the door, and last 5 minutes, that’s ok, we kept a tradition going and gave it a go. If I go in hoping we’ll have a wonderful time celebrating with our church family, singing songs and showing off presents, it will break my heart if/when one of the kids doesn’t want to participate at all or screams the room down. Hold things loosely and protect your heart.

I hope this doesn’t put a downer on Christmas but instead releases you from feeling any obligation to do particular things just because everyone else does. Christmas is the time to do what works for you as a family, couple or individual. And let’s stop putting so much pressure on this time of year being so magical. We can try to make it as magical as we can if it brings us joy, but we don’t have to! Christmas is special all on its own because it’s when Jesus came to Earth as a tiny baby to conquer death because of His great love for us. You can’t make it more magical than that.

Have a look at Motherkind and Anna Mathur on social media if this strikes a chord with you. They’re doing a lot of work this Christmas on lessening the load.

We left off last week with the girls being whisked away to the NICU. For several reasons, such as my recovery and the NICU being shut to visitors because of an emergency, I didn’t see the girls again until they were 24 hours old. If I think about that too much my heart hurts a little. But, obviously, I’ve had two years and nine months so far to make up for that.

The girls were placed in the SCBU (special care baby unit), first in the high-dependency room and then the lower-dependency room. I remember walking in there for the first time and a nurse pointing at which incubators held my babies. They were at opposite ends of the room to each other which was strange, and a bit upsetting, since they had been so close internally.

The girls started off with breathing support, an IV, heart monitors on their chests, and a pulse monitor on their toes, so they were covered with wires and wearing tiny baby nappies that looked massive on them.

I remember that the first time I went to visit the girls, I fainted outside the ward because I made the mistake of standing up for a bit too long just a day after having major abdominal surgery. Props to the receptionist who managed to catch me! Thankfully Sam was in with the girls so he was able to come out and make sure I was OK. Once I was back on the maternity ward I was in an awful amount of pain because my bladder was essentially frozen so they re-catheterised me and the relief was almost immediate. It meant that I had to walk down to the NICU with a bag of my wee strapped to my leg though.

It was very strange being up on the maternity ward with the girls down in the NICU. I was on a ward with a couple other NICU mums so there were no babies, which was a relief as I didn’t particularly want to be woken by other people’s babies, and I got to chat to them about our shared experience. I was torn between feeling exhausted and needing to recover from major surgery and desperately wanting to be with my babies. The midwives and health care assistants who were caring for me were gold standard, despite the crazy busyness of the ward. I’ll forever be grateful for the compassion and care they showed me in those first few days of recovery. One time I cried because I didn’t like the food on the menu and they kindly found me an alternative, like the diva I am.

Each day my recovery improved so that by 9th February (so 4 days after the girls were born), I was discharged home. Leaving the babies in the hospital and driving away was bizarre and heartbreaking, though we knew they were in the best hands. I returned each day thanks to my kind friends and Sam driving me there (as I couldn’t drive post C-section), so I didn’t leave them too long and Sam went to be with them every evening.

I didn’t first change Bethany and Lily’s nappies until they were a few days old and it took some guidance and maneuvering to avoid all the wires! Oftentimes I would let the nurses do those kinds of jobs so I could save my energy to focus on feeding and bonding with the girls. Initially, the girls were tube-fed using my colostrum which I managed to harvest (gross) when I was waiting for my C-section. Their tummies were only really tiny so they couldn’t manage much, and the IV was helping keep their fluids up. They also had vitamins through their IV drip each day, and other things that now I can’t remember. Eventually they would get my pumped breast milk through their tubes and were encouraged to suck on a dummy whilst that was happening so they connected the two sensations. Since the girls were fed using a syringe and tube, both Sam and I were able to feed them in the first few days, as well as the nurses.

Ah, pumping. The least glamorous part of this process (not that anything was particularly glamorous, see bag of wee above). I was loaned a hospital-grade pump from the NICU which was amazing as I could take it home and it did make it easier and quicker. I had to pump at certain intervals during the day and set my alarm at night to pump once (much kinder than a newborn’s wake-ups!) I was fortunate to produce a crazy amount of milk which the NICU nurses often commented on as I stored it in their fridge. Each morning I would rock up with my cool bag full of milk to add to the fridge on the ward. There were so many processes of storing and labeling the milk, that I had totally forgotten until now. Like any difficult situation, you just get on with it and things that first seemed alien become second nature.

Before I was discharged home, I breastfed Bethany for the first time and she did really well. I’ll talk about the challenges of learning to breastfeed in the NICU a little later. When I was discharged, the girls were 4 days old. Lily was still on breathing support so I wasn’t able to feed her and they were both under treatment for jaundice (under a blue light). Bethany had been weaned off her fluids from the IV and they were hoping to do the same with Lily too. But they were both in individual incubators in the high-dependency room. So they still needed a decent amount of support.

The next few days saw the girls being weaned off breathing support and the liquids through their IVs as well as having their heart monitors removed. So gradually they were less encumbered by wires.

Each day I would try to put them to the breast to feed, though because they were so tiny and born so early (at 34 weeks), they were often too sleepy to feed. Credit must go to the incredible NICU nurses who helped me position them and myself so I could comfortably feed them with their teeny tiny mouths! I don’t think our breastfeeding journey would have been anywhere near as successful as it has been without the support of those nurses. I personally think every new mother should have days of breastfeeding support whilst in the hospital. I had so many challenges breastfeeding Caleb because no one came around whilst I was on the ward to show me how to do it. Thankfully I had the wonderful organisation BABIES in Winchester who supported me so well at home. The challenges with the girls were many: sleepy babies, tiny bodies and mouths, being in a strange environment, my boobs being too large (!) But we kept trying again and again. I was often limited in the length of time I could keep them out of their incubators, especially when they were under phototherapy for jaundice, so I was not able to have the amount of practice a new mother normally has with her baby. And there were two of them!!

Lily struggled a lot in the NICU with tolerating her feeds and consequently lost a lot of weight, going down to 4lbs. She also occasionally seemed to have heart problems so had a few ECGs and numerous blood tests. I’m so thankful for the wonderful doctors and nurses in the NICU who reassured us, kept us informed, and cared for the girls so well. There were plenty of other babies on the ward who needed a lot of support. One baby was born at 30 weeks and was so tiny, then there were several sets of triplets born in the few days after the girls were born! It was an incredibly busy ward. There were also the higher dependency intensive care wards which cared for the very ill babies. Whilst we never saw those babies, my heart was with them and their parents each time an emergency alarm sounded that led doctors to go rushing into the room.

When the girls were just over a week old, they were moved to the lower dependency room of the SCBU and put in a cot together!

As you can see in the photo, they were fully wire-free apart from the pulse monitor on their toes and their feeding tubes. It made taking them out for cuddles and feeds so much easier! It also meant Sam and I could hold them both at the same time which was a joy!

Occasionally the girls needed to receive phototherapy for jaundice again so they would both be squeezed into the same incubator for that. They were regularly weighed, and orally given vitamins and I would practice feeding them daily.

Whilst we were initially told the girls would be in for at least 2 weeks, we were obviously hoping it would be for less time than that. However, their stay in the hospital did end up being two and a half weeks. A day before bringing the girls home, Sam and I moved onto the ward and slept in a room there to get used to caring for the girls ourselves at night time. That was an experience in itself but was a helpful in between, as we got to prepare to take them home whilst still having the doctors’ and nurses’ support.

I have to admit that the closer we got to taking them home, the more nervous I got about it! We would be sent out alone with no nurses to help with feeds or changing nappies, no one to ask questions of, and no one to take over their care. Of course, it was still COVID time so we also couldn’t rely on family support. Our family couldn’t meet the girls until they were about a month or two old. We were truly on our own! (We weren’t, we had our faithful Father and a wonderful college community who kept us fed and well-stocked in nappies).

Thanks for joining me on this journey, it’s been wonderful and cathartic to look through my journals and photos from that time. It’s hard to believe those tiny babies are the same little girls currently hurtling around our living room. They are resilient, beautiful, and strong and we thank God that he blessed us with them, as crazy as they are. I hope you have found reading these posts eye-opening and interesting. If you ever are, or ever know, a NICU parent, I hope this post in particular is a helpful insight into what it’s like.

We left off last week with Sam and Caleb dropping me off at the hospital. What followed were a few days of waiting for a C-section. It was classed as an emergency, but other emergencies took precedence, including someone giving birth in the car park!

I had never been away from Caleb so to have a few days of resting in the hospital unable to see him was odd but quite relaxing! Sam did bring him to see me once and also came alone so we could grab a drink from the hospital Costa but otherwise I was sitting on the bed, reading, watching things on my iPad and occasionally being monitored. A lovely consultant from the NICU came to see me to explain that we could expect the girls to have a couple of weeks in the SCBU (Special Care Baby Unit) because they were only going to be 34 weeks when they were born. This helped calm my anxiety, having at least an idea of what it might be like once they were earth-side.

The day arrived, thankfully Sam managed to get to the hospital, find a parking space and have a negative COVID test (all things causing me great anxiety at the time, as if it was positive he wouldn’t have been able to join me) and we were action stations.

I won’t share much about the birth because I found it quite traumatic. I was hoping the screen could be put down so I could see what was going on but I didn’t ask, and they didn’t ask if I wanted it, so it just didn’t happen. I still remember the anaesthetist though, he was the member of the team who spent the most time talking to us. He was really lovely, caring and understanding and helped to calm our anxieties. Speaking of the team, there were a LOT of people in that room! The anaesthetist, a couple of surgeons, their assistants, midwives, two NICU nurses for each twin, probably a bunch of other people I’ve forgotten. I’m so SO grateful that the twins were born at a time during the pandemic that partners could be in the operating theatre. I can’t imagine how frightening the experience, which was already so strange, would have been if Sam hadn’t been there.

Bethany came out first and went straight to resus, apparently it took a little bit of time for her breathing to be ok. Lily was a bit more tricky to get out and then 5 minutes later, arms stretched, she made her way out. She also spent some time on the resus table. Thankfully Sam was able to stand with them and took some photos on his camera to show me as my only view was the ceiling and the blue screen. I would strain to hear them crying and had no idea what was going on. Once both babies were checked over and wrapped up, I got to briefly touch them before they were whisked away to the NICU where I didn’t get to see them again until 24 hours later. Mercifully, Sam got to see them and cuddle them that night and took plenty of photos for me to see.

The 5th of February 2021 was a wild day that I’ll never forget. I’m so grateful that I was able to give birth to the twins in a safe, hygienic and FREE environment. Praise God for our NHS and for the incredible doctors, nurses, midwives, health care assistants, anaesthetists, porters, all the people who give their lives to care for us.

I’ve been looking through my journals from the time I was pregnant with the girls to remind myself what it was like and there is so much that I’d just forgotten about! It was an anxiety-ridden pregnancy for a number of reasons, not least it all being within lockdowns. I’m not going to lay bare all my thoughts and feelings during that time as, as you can imagine, they were varied and plentiful! But here’s an edited version of our pregnancy journey that I’d love to share with you…

I fell pregnant during the first lockdown, when we were convinced the whole COVID thing would be over soon, certainly by the time the baby was born… How wrong we were! But anyway… It felt different from my pregnancy with Caleb very quickly. I joked with Sam that maybe it was twins because I started showing early on and felt much more nauseous earlier and for longer, though I did put it down to it being a second pregnancy at the time. We just laughed it off and didn’t think much of it.

It was when we went for our 12 week scan that the truth was revealed! At first when the sonographer was scanning my tummy, only one baby was showing on the screen and it all looked good. However, she then moved her probe and exclaimed “Oh! There’s another one!” After a quick check to make sure there weren’t any more hidden away, she checked baby two and thankfully everything was ok. Meanwhile, Sam and I were having mini existential crises involving thoughts of “how will we cope with twins?” and “we’re going to need to get a bigger car”.  For a while we sat in stunned silence as the sonographer filled in the necessary paperwork and sent us on our merry way as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Thankfully, on that very day, we had picked up a double buggy from someone off Facebook marketplace, thinking one of the seats would be for Caleb. Alas, no. 

Immediately I recognised that were a number of expectations I had had of this second baby that would need to change. Such as the simple joy I had envisioned of taking Caleb to the park with a little baby strapped to my chest… Not so easy with two.

As we left the hospital, I was feeling mixed emotions of elation and terror, you’ll have to ask Sam how he was feeling! We’d left Caleb with our close friends Hanna and Simon, so, lucky them, they got to see us in our stunned, pale states. I showed Hanna the scan photos and just pointed at where it said “Twin 1” and she got it straight away, squealed and gave me a hug. Simon took a little longer…

So then it was on to telling our family! What with it being lockdown, we sadly couldn’t wait to tell our family the news in person so we had to do it over the phone. I messaged my parents and brother saying it was twins and my dad phoned me to ask if I was serious! When I told him it was true he was just as stunned as we were! Mum was very excited, but also there was a lot of chat about the extra risks of a twin pregnancy and the craziness of life that lay ahead.

Because the twins were identical, ie sharing a placenta, from 16 weeks I had fortnightly scans.  As this was during COVID, most of the scans I went to by myself, coming out with reams of photos that I thankfully didn’t have to pay for, in awe that they could always tell which twin was which. It was during these scans that measurements were taken, of the twins and of the amniotic fluid. A few worrying scans led to more scans, one even at a different hospital with a specialist. It was a very different experience to my pregnancy with Caleb where I only had the 12 weeks scan, 20 weeks scan and a random growth scan near the end. This felt a lot more medical, serious and anxiety inducing, often unnecessarily so when subsequent scans showed there was nothing wrong.

One of the concerns at the time was the possibility that the twins might have twin-to-twin syndrome, a serious condition that in the worst cases is fatal for one or both twins. This led to multiple extra scans, blood tests, and conversations with consultants. What it actually came down to was someone made an error in calculating the percentage of weight difference and once that error was realised and corrected, the concern was almost eradicated. I remember being so frustrated at the time, having all that worry being down to a mistake someone made along the way. After that mistake was made I was then slightly wary of any comments made about the babies’ sizes, at points being convinced they were measuring and comparing the wrong twin. That was really difficult, as I had to simply trust that these professionals knew what they were doing and had the babies’ best interests at heart.

I can’t talk scans without mentioning the 20 weeks one! I was silently hoping it would be two girls a) because I would love a baby girl and b) because I wasn’t sure how I’d cope with three boys! Thankfully of course it did turn out to be girls, though Sam does to this day question what my reaction would have been if it had been boys! I was very excited.

So it was at an extra scan at a point where there had been further concerns about one of the twins’ size, when I was 33 weeks, that the doctor doing my scan saw in my notes that one of the twins hadn’t been growing as expected and saw on her screen that twin 1’s amniotic fluid was a little low. She stepped out to phone the consultant managing my pregnancy then came in and confirmed that they were going to admit me and get the twins out as soon as they could! I had not been expecting this, I was expecting to go to at least 36 weeks, which is when they normally deliver identical twins. I shakily phoned Sam, drove home to pack a bag then Sam and Caleb drove me back to the hospital. We were all feeling very emotional and stressed, it was not quite the exciting time you expect when you’re about to have your baby. The scans were suggesting something could be wrong so we really didn’t know the journey that was ahead of us.

Tune back in next week to find out what happens next 😉.

A lot of you reading this will remember the many twists and turns we had during this pregnancy, and you faithfully prayed for us and looked out for us. Thank you ❤️.

I hope you read that title imagining me clicking my fingers to an Italian-sounding soundtrack. If you don’t get that reference, I’m glad for you because it is seriously overdone.

Here is a list of things that we use daily in our house to help make the days a little easier for Caleb (diagnosed ASD) and us as a family. Hopefully doesn’t need saying but these are not ads or affiliate links, I’m not getting any money for these recommendations! Just passing on what works for us in the hope it might help you and/or your family too.

• Visual timetable

At first, we found that this kind of picture timetable didn’t really work with Caleb. They didn’t work at his preschool, but they did with his support worker. She used them to list all the activities they would do together and each time they finished one, Caleb would lift off the card and pop it in a post box. We have started using them in the morning and at bedtime and a visual reminder of the routine does seem to help him, even if it doesn’t magically make things easier for us. We use these, but there are many options. I know they use them at school too, and if it removes any anxiety from Caleb’s day, we feel it’s worth giving it a shot.

• Social stories

Caleb’s teacher uses a programme called Widget to create social stories for Caleb and they have been revolutionary in helping Caleb settle into school. He loves reading his “Caleb stories” and knowing exactly what is going to happen and how he needs to behave has really helped him transition into school. The teacher wrote him a story for the Harvest festival at church and the nurses coming in to give the flu vaccine. This “kind hands” story is one of his favourites, he recites it every day! You can buy a license for the programme but it’s quite pricey. It’s worth checking whether your kid’s school has it or something similar on their system.

• Lap tray

Caleb sits on the sofa in front of the TV to eat his meals. Is it the best option? Probably not. Does it mean he eats happily and calmly? Yes. In lieu of a table, we bought him a lap tray to have his plate on. Again, it’s what works for us and our family.

• Hat

It is rare to see Caleb without his trusty Lightning McQueen hat. It has definitely been a comfort object for him for about a few years now. There’s something about the gentle pressure on his head/ it being his favourite character/ the protection and hiding place it offers him. Thankfully the school is really happy for him to wear it even though it doesn’t exactly fit uniform requirements! He’s pretty good at taking it off when they ask him to and then he’ll just go and put it back on when he can. We do notice that the days he hasn’t got it for whatever reason are more tricky, and we have had to go back to get it from home and bring it to school. But if it helps to keep him regulated and happy then it’s all good.

• Screens

Screens are demonised in modern parenting but, in our house, we give the kids unlimited access. They’re not on it every minute of every day, but when they ask for videos (they watch YouTube Kids on tablets), we let them watch them. Occasionally we thrust videos on the kids when we just. need. a. break. Occasionally they don’t want to watch them (so we groan internally). The benefit for Caleb is that screens help him regulate. We just decided to extend the unlimited screen use to the twins as well to make it fair for them and to make our lives easier. Honestly, they don’t spend ages on them and they’re always happy to surrender them when we say it’s time. Maybe the unlimited access takes the novelty away.

• Buckets of patience and dollops of love

Living with a child who struggles daily with life can be incredibly challenging for us as his parents. It’s awful to watch your child suffering in any way, especially when you feel helpless to make them feel better. Therefore, we need to take a lot of deep breaths and have endless patience so we don’t add to his anxiety and stress. That and lots of physical affection, encouraging words, and lots of fun and laughter help to bolster Caleb’s mood and self-esteem. We don’t always get it right, we do lose our patience and get cross. We are human, after all. But I like to think that, even if our house is full of screaming and tears a lot of the time, it’s equally, or hopefully more so, filled with love, laughter and fun.

Do you use anything in your house that helps your neurodivergent child?