​You know when you have a baby? That incredibly exhausting, emotionally draining, traumatic experience? Then you get discharged from Hospital 5 hours later … with literally no idea what you’re doing?? All the ‘care’ that is now set to be for you at home rather in hospital? Well the ‘care’ for me involved driving to a local midwife unit up until discharge at 10 days. Midwives, these incredible people who give you everything they have, stay beyond the hours they’re paid to see you welcome your baby into the world, give you reassurance, give you a hug when you’ve hit day 3 baby blues! They’re stretched to max capacity and so in turn new Mum’s are left to flounder and struggle to find their own feet in this brand new chapter in their lives. Its quite possibly the most abrupt, scary chapter you ever start in your life that makes you think – what the fuck have we done?!?!? But all the same we do get through it, with little support because those incredible medical professionals are already chasing their tails from the day before, YET still at the end of a phone if you need them. For me this all seems a little wrong! This all seems a little backwards. Mum’s have just pushed a melon out of their NuNu, passed an organ they have grown in 9 months, patted on the back, slapped on the arse and told to go home after a few hours?!?! What happened to the Maternity Units and the 10 days of helping Mum’s recover? Oh, that’s right … cut backs … of course. So while we waddle back to the car, with hanging hams, brand spanking new babies and no fucking idea what we’re doing … I totally appreciate the fact that the maternity units up and down the country are stretched to their very limits! Midwives working their arses off saving lives, giving life and supporting mums, while premiership footballers get paid millions to… kick a football … all makes sense now! Don’t worry world, we totally have this shit worked out.

Rant over …