Hmmm. I wasn’t sure. I mean, it’s no laughing matter. But then I chatted with Kimberley Nixon, the writer and actress who is starring in the show, and I got it. Yes - being able to take trauma and find a way of creatively engaging with it can be really helpful - especially a bit of dark humour.

I wanted to ask Kimberley a few questions about why she has done this show, and what she hopes to get from it. I hope the answers are interesting to you too.

1. You’ve already written a book about your experience of post-partum psychosis and OCD, after giving birth in 2020. This is obviously a VERY different format! Why did you want to do a Fringe show too?

My book, She Seems Fine To Me, is my brutally honest account of living with and recovering from postnatal OCD (a term I had never heard until my diagnosis). With Baby Brain, I get to really push the envelope as I play a fictional character, Cass who is on a Mother & Baby Unit struggling with postpartum psychosis whilst trying to be the next big stand-up star. We threw the theatre rule book out slightly and get to do things our way. We really push between what’s hilarious and really fucking sad. As an actor, it’s my way of letting go of a lot of that perinatal trauma.

2. If you could reach anyone doing this show, who would it be? And what would you want them to know?

The idea behind the show was that if you’ve experienced some of the darker sides of becoming a mum then we say some of the scarier parts out loud. But we also wanted to make it open to people with no kids or no experience of this type of mental health condition and they could still enjoy an hour at the theatre.

3. And for people who aren’t mums or don’t know much about post-partum psychosis and OCD, what would you like them to take away?

On that point, the greatest compliments come from say middle-aged blokes who just laughed and cried with Cass with no personal skin in the game. Or the relatives and friends of sufferers finally “get it”. Or recognise what those women were trying to tell them.

4. I imagine that doing such a personal show is a two way process. Is there anything that you yourself are experiencing/ learning from doing it?

It’s cathartic and exhilarating but also exhausting and can be depleting. It’s an exorcism of sorts but the good kind. I’m releasing a lot of anger, confusion, humour or rage that I maybe didn’t realise I was holding on to.

5. Is there a question you would like me to ask you that I haven’t asked?!

It’s more a question for myself. Is it good to keep talking about this stuff? Should I just move on or is it healthy to completely unburden myself of any shame I feel around becoming unwell, after having my baby, in the first place. I think a bit of both. There are so many women out there right now suffering in silence with incredibly common (albeit terrifying) symptoms. If one person feels emboldened to take back control of their perinatal mind, then I’m delighted. But after this tour, I will need a very big lie down.

I think it sounds a bit exciting, and definitely uncomfortable and thought provoking. I’m in!

You might not be in Edinburgh, but I hope Kimberley’s thoughts are useful for you - wherever you are at. And if you’re in Edinburgh and want to see it - it’s on from the 21st-30th August and you can get tickets here.

That’s all for me for now. I’m currently away from my desk until 31st August, so there might be a slight delay if you have any queries.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

There is so much chat about being attuned to your baby. There is this idea that if your baby experiences any kind of distress that it means that they are being damaged. An awful thought.

So it can feel terrifying to even think misattunement properly. To properly consider what it might be like or how it might be for our babies. We can end up trying to avoid it at all costs. And it can cost a lot.

For example, it can lead to us avoiding letting other people looking after our baby. It can lead to us avoiding activities where we don’t feel completely in control. It can lead to us not being able to let our partners do as much childcare, because they can’t read our babies as well as we can.

And I am NOT for one moment condoning not thinking about what our babies might need, or - even worse - neglect. That is not what we’re talking about here. We are talking about ordinary, everyday mismatches that can and will happen. Like they do in any relationship, however loving.

So I think it needs to be properly thought about, because not even looking at the possibility of mistakes and mismatches can make the whole idea seem even more frightening or awful. It can reinforce our fear that our babies will not be able to manage anything less than perfect attunement.

Because the reality is that they WILL experience moments of misunderstanding, miscommunication, mismatches, misattunement. Despite all our best efforts.

Sometimes, the reason why we can struggle with this so much is due to our own experience. Our own experience of how awful it might feel to be misunderstood, to need help and to feel scared and alone. We can imagine our baby might feel like that, and be desperate to avoid that at all costs.

The thing is, your baby might NOT experience things in the same way you do. That moments of misattunement might be difficult for them, absolutely, but not as terrifying as we imagine. That they might have enough sense of safety, and our desire to properly understand them even if we can’t always make things better, that they can manage not to be undone by these difficult moments.

You might well be thinking I don’t really understand how awful it is to consider your baby ever feeling distress. I get that. This might sound callous or cruel. And that is again, not what this is about.

It’s about protecting your relationship. Because if you are so worried about your baby’s experience that you are not considering your own needs, then that is going to be difficult for you both. It places such a great strain on you that it might be overwhelming or feel unmanageable. It might mean that you feel resentful or angry towards the people around you who can’t help.

It can feel like an impossible predicament, and maybe as though there is no way out.

Again, I have no ‘top tips’ - there is no easy fix. But finding a way to start exploring what is going on for you can be a start, whether that’s by getting curious, reading information about the importance of ruptures as well as repairs, or by finding a therapist who might help you understand yourself better.

As ever, I’m always interested to know what you think. I hope this has been some useful food for thought.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

Someone said this to me the other day and it has really stuck with me. That we all need to be a bit more baby.

And I know that might sound a bit weird, but bear with me!

Because I think there’s a lot in that idea.

And one of those things is that babies aren’t afraid to be themselves. They have no shame about having needs and expressing that. They have no worry about expressing their feelings, whatever they might be. They cannot be other than perfectly themselves, whatever that is in that moment. They are free.

It’s only later that we learn to adapt ourselves in order to avoid shame, or pain, or punishment. That we hide our needs, because we’re scared of other people’s reactions. That we are given the idea that there is something wrong with our feelings, whatever they might be. We might have been taught that our feelings are ‘too much’, and that only certain ones are acceptable.

And I’m not saying that we should express ourselves the same way babies do - we have got far more options for communication available to us as adults. But we do still have needs and feelings that need attending to - and sometimes we need other people to help with that.

We can’t manage all by ourselves. Babies know that. And - if things in our lives have been just about good enough for us - we know that too. But sometimes life teaches us that needing other people is too scary or dangerous. We might be humiliated or shamed. We might even be punished or harmed in some other way. So we learn to try to manage by ourselves, not to share what’s really going on for us.

Often we don’t even realise we’re doing it…

And babies exist in the present. They notice things, like REALLY notice things. The play of light on a wall. The sound of a particular voice. How their body feels in that moment. All they can do is notice things, and respond accordingly - with curiosity, with alarm, with joy, with overwhelm…

And yes, again - we can’t always stop and notice everything, life has a way of distracting us - but we tend to notice less and less, especially when we’re busy and anxious. We don’t pay attention to our bodies’ needs. We don’t enjoy properly looking at something, or spending a moment just listening. Or noticing our breath. We miss so much, and become less in touch with ourselves. Easier to miss.

Becoming a new mum is a time when our babies can offer us an opportunity to re-learn something. How to be more like them. To notice more. To give up the idea that we can manage by ourselves (motherhood, is a time when we really can’t). To pay more attention to our needs. To allow all our feelings, whatever they are, without shaming ourselves.

It’s all just information.

And I’m not saying that any of that is easy! Especially when life has taught you that it’s scary or dangerous to be yourself, it can feel terrifying to be more baby. It can take a bit of help from trusted people around you, or from a skilled therapist. We need helpful relationships around us to test out this new way of being. Because it will feel scary and different.

You might think you are already fully yourself, but I tend to find that people who describe themselves as people pleasers, as people who need to be busy, as perfectionists, as having had a ‘good’ childhood - scratch the surface and the fear of being fully themselves is lurking underneath.

If any of this resonates, congratulations. Well, sort of. I’m not happy that that’s your experience, but being able to recognise that you need something more, that part of you would like to be more fully yourself, is a big step. A huge step.

The next wobbly step might be to allow yourself to start noticing your feelings. Not to judge them, but just to start tuning into yourself again, after years of being out of practice. They might feel awful or unacceptable, and that’s normal if you’ve had good reason to hide them from yourself or others for a long time. Anger, disappointment, fear, jealousy - these are often the main culprits. But they are just feelings. Information.

You might feel a bit frustrated with this post - lots of ideas and maybe nothing that feels as though it helps you know what to do. I get that - it IS frustrating to want to move forward and not know how to do it. To be shown what things might be like and not know how to get there. My aim isn’t to be frustrating, but the thing is that a post like this can’t show you. It can only give you something to think about. I don’t know exactly what you need, because I don’t know what has happened to you - I can only talk about generalities, but not YOU personally.

That’s why I recommend therapy: having a relationship with someone who is focussing on you and trying to understand what you really need. I can’t do that here.

I’m currently not taking on new clients, but I will always try to suggest someone who might be helpful or give ideas of places to look. Please ask, if that’s something you’re interested in.

Anyway - I hope this has given you some useful food for thought. Now - go - be more baby…

Until next time, take care,

Sarah xx

It’s one of the things I get asked about a lot, and something I have very mixed feelings about.

I can see the attraction (hell, I totally used all the books when my kids were small, I’m not judging!), but the more I’ve worked and experienced, the more I’ve realised that often they’re playing into our fears.

Fear of not being ‘good enough’ as a parent.

Fear of not ‘getting it right’ for our child.

So yes, they can seem to offer a way of managing those fears, which is incredibly seductive, especially when everything feels topsy turvy and new…

However - and this is a big however - they do NOT take into account who you are or who your child is. They are blunt tools not recipes for success.

But… who you are. Now that’s a different story. What matters to you, how you treat your emotions, how you think, how free you are to be yourself and ask for help when you need it, the relationships you have. THESE are the things that will help you relate to your baby, whoever they are. And help you overcome the normal difficulties in navigating that relationship.

Who you are guides what you do…

And that can be far scarier, if you’re not sure if who you are is ‘good enough’ (spoiler - you ARE you just don’t know it yet). There will be good reasons for that - messages you’ve received along the way. That maybe your needs were considered ‘too much’, or that your value lies in your performance or achievements.

If this resonates, and you’d like to learn more about who you are, therapy can be a great place to start. Having a space to explore and understand more about what matters to you and what can get in the way of you feeling comfortable to be yourself. I find that often people come because they want to do it for their baby, but actually, it can transform all your relationships - including the one with yourself.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

But sometimes we can discover that when we think we’re choosing something, it’s not actually what we really want. That this choice is dictated by factors that we weren’t fully aware of, both in ourselves and the society we find ourselves in.

So it can be one hell of a shock when we get there and discover that we have found ourselves somewhere we didn’t expect. Somewhere that might feel more frightening or lonely than we imagined. Somewhere that might feel impossible for us.

And then, the double whammy, we are told that we chose this. We should be grateful. We should be happy. We should be fulfilled in our new role. We are shamed for feeling trapped, because it makes other people feel too uncomfortable.

So that might all sound rather bleak, but it doesn’t have to be the end of the story…

Often, when we’re feeling trapped, our tendency can be to think that we need to DO something, to fix something, to work something out in our environment. And I’m not saying that that won’t be a part of it, but it doesn’t start with that. It starts with what is going on inside.

Because the reasons you feel trapped aren’t just due to the externals, they are due to what is going on inside you. Things that you might not be aware of yet.

Ok – this might all sound a bit ‘woo’, so let me break that down a little.

There are lots of reasons we can feel trapped as mother:

• Old beliefs we have about ourselves that we have grown up with, that make us feel we should be a certain way.

• The expectations of the people close to us – what makes it easy for them not to be disturbed by our feelings.

• What you see in other people around you – whether that’s social media or your peers – that might lead you to believe that there is a ‘right’ way to be.

• The incessant advice and rules that are placed on new mothers by healthcare advisers – how they should look after their babies, the idea that there is an ‘optimal’ way of doing things.

These are just a few of the reasons that can contribute to us feeling trapped. There are others, but I’d suggest that these are the main ones.

Now these are all suitably vague, because obviously your situation is completely different to everyone else’s. But the process of getting free is also going to follow some similar parts.

• Feeling safe enough to feel your actual feelings, without having to hide them from yourself.

• Becoming aware of old patterns that might have shaped your beliefs about yourself.

• Becoming more aware of how it doesn’t serve other people for you to be truly yourself.

• Becoming more aware of why you might feel that you have to ‘do’ motherhood a certain way.

• Finding ways of exploring who you are, now that you are a mother.

It’s possible to do all this work by yourself. But it’s really flipping hard, especially when you’re feeling overwhelmed by everything going on. And sleep deprived. And at the mercy of your shifting hormones. Let’s not forget the part our bodies play in all this.

So what would I suggest? Well – lots of things, but one of those things is therapy. Good therapy – not just something surface level that doesn’t actually address your deepest longings. Someone who can really hold you and be there with you and understand you. Who can help you uncover some of the hidden reasons why motherhood might feel like a trap, rather than a choice.

And then – the paradox – that’s when you might actually find things changing and opening up. Becoming more free. In ways that you could never expect. Because these changes actually come from parts of you that you have finally given permission to. Creative parts of yourself you might not have been aware of…

If you’d like to explore therapy with me, I currently have room for an appointment on Wednesdays. You’re very welcome to get in touch and find out more.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

The first day you will be with their baby by yourself when your partner returns to work?

Going on holiday for the first time with a baby?

Weaning?

Going back to work?

These can all be terrifying if you don’t yet have a sense that you will be ok.

So I thought I’d share a technique I use with people to help manage some of the feelings of dread or anxiety. It’s based on EMDR, CBT, Somatic work, and also sports psychology.

It’s a form of positive visual mentalisation. Now I’m not talking about toxic positivity where you just tell yourself that it’s going to be ok, and suppress the feelings underneath. It’s more a way of instilling a positive forward memory – where you can actually notice what you’re feeling in that situation and how you support yourself through it. Allowing yourself to feel your way through allows your brain to register it as something that has already happened, and – hey presto – you are then more able to behave in those ways later on.

When doing this, it is useful to think back to previous situations where you have got through something difficult. A specific memory is great. For example, reminding yourself of how you got through your driving test (if you passed). You know what your goal is – to pass – but you feel terrified you won’t manage it.

Maybe you felt terrified when you first sat in the car – notice what that terror feels like in your body in your body (maybe in your shoulders, your throat, your chest, your solar plexus, your tummy) and how it takes your brain offline.

Then maybe notice how you managed to regulate yourself. Did you take a pause? Had you made sure that you’d eaten enough? Did you remember useful things or words of encouragement that people had told you? Remind yourself of how it had felt when you’d done a good manoeuvre in your lessons?

Just let yourself notice what you did to calm your body and re-engage your brain.

Allow yourself to notice how you handled difficulties during the test. Did you make mistakes and recover? Did you think back to previous scenarios in lessons? Feel how it is in your body to feel scared and keep yourself regulated.

And then allow yourself to get to the end of the memory. Notice how you feel then. Maybe relief that it was over. Hopefully pride that all your hard work had paid off! And maybe a bit of satisfaction and how you managed. Really feel those feelings in your body. Allow yourself to enjoy them.

Now – the next part.

Think about the situation that you’re dreading. Let’s take the example of the first day your partner returns to work. You might be terrified you can’t manage if your baby cries all day. You might have a goal, such as to get through the day and stay as connected with your baby as possible.

Really imagine how you might feel that morning. You’re alone and your baby is crying. Imagine what you can see, hear, touch.

How does it feel in your body? Does it feel a bit the same as just before your driving test? Notice where that sits in your body. Does it feel panicky? Overwhelming?

Now think about what you used in your driving test to regulate yourself a bit. Is there someone’s voice you need to hear? Could you call them? Do you need to step outside and take a breath? Have you eaten enough? Are there words of wisdom you can draw on now, even your own?

Notice the changes in your body as you help yourself regulate. You might imagine other bumps in the day, and imagine how you regulate yourself again each time. Really feel the shifts in your body as you do that.

And then allow yourself to notice getting to the end of the day. Your partner comes home. You can finally have 10 minutes to relax. You might notice the same feelings as the driving test. Relief, satisfaction and pride. Really turn up the dial on those feelings – enjoy them.

Congratulations – you’ve just implanted a positive forward memory.

Obviously that’s a very brief snapshot of how you might do it, but you get the gist:

1. Figure out what it is that’s scaring you. Be specific.

2. Look at a past situation that might recreate similar feelings: a situation that you got through well enough and can look back on with pride.

3. Notice what you did to get through that past situation. The goal you set. The resources you used (both internal and external).

4. Make sure you really notice the feelings in your body and how you shifted them.

5. Think about the situation you’re dreading and make it feel real.

6. Apply the learnings you took from the past situation and let your brain come up with ideas of how you could use those same ideas here.

7. Visualise yourself feeling those feelings and regulating yourself.

8. Allow yourself to really enjoy the feelings of meeting your goal.

I really hope you find this idea helpful. If you’ve got any questions, I’d be more than happy to try to answer them. And if you use it and find it helpful, I’d love to know how you get on.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

And I find it especially unhelpful when well-intentioned folk around us tell us that we will just ‘know’ what our babies are saying. Er, no! Not always!

Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the central tenets of my work: that our babies have a lot to tell us, if we’re able to hear it.

And therein lies the rub, because there can be a LOT of reasons why we might be hard of hearing. None of them our ‘fault’, even if we do have a tendency to blame ourselves.

A few examples:

If your birth has left you reeling and you’re still processing the shock, that can make it very hard to take in information, especially when it’s very subtle. Your baby might have a hard time competing with that.

If your experience growing up was that your own feelings, needs or wants weren’t heard, it can be hard for you to experience them in your baby. You might shut them out or feel overwhelmed by your baby’s communication.

If you have a baby who doesn’t communicate in a way you expect, or like other babies seem to, it can be harder to decipher what they might be telling us.

If you’re dealing with a big loss, such as health issues or the loss of someone you love, grief can sometimes make us feel cut off from others. This is particularly hard if you are aware that you’re struggling to manage your feelings around your baby.

If your living situation means that you don’t feel particularly safe or cared for, your body might not be in a state to communicate in the way that babies do. You might be using all your senses to survive.

These are just a few examples, there are plenty more. Recognise any of them?

This all might sound a bit gloomy, like there is nothing you can do and you’re just stuck. But this is the brilliant part - you CAN learn how to understand and communicate with your baby better - it’s not something you just have to hope will come with time.

It’s one of the reasons why I trained in Video Interaction Guidance (VIG) and Newborn Behavioural Observations (NBO), so I could learn more about the different ways babies are communicating with us from before birth, and what can help parents learn more about their particular baby’s ways of expressing themselves.

I was lucky to be contacted by Rhona McAlpine recently to chat about her work with parents and infants. She’s been supporting parents and babies within the NHS for a very long time now, using VIG and NBO and also other tools, and has recently moved into private practice. This woman knows what she’s doing when it comes to helping parents understand more about how their babies are communicating with them.

If you’re worried that you are struggling to understand your baby the way you would like, please do check out what she offers. It can be so wonderful to have more understanding and, as I said, sometime our babies can be surprisingly helpful. You’re figuring this out together.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

Maybe you feel panicky in situations where you know you are ok?

Maybe you avoid people who you know love you?

It’s confusing and upsetting, right?

We can understand that our reactions are not rational or appropriate for the situation, but we can’t seem to help it and that can leave us feeling ashamed or scared or frustrated.

What if there is a different way of thinking about it?

Maybe it might help to realize that sometimes our reactions are not about what’s going on right now. That old feelings are being evoked that we’re not even conscious of. And so we’re acting from that ‘old’ way of coping with our feelings.

And that’s where I think therapy comes in. Because it’s hard for other people around you to understand why you’re acting the way you are - they might try to ‘fix’ you. But a therapist can have an understanding that your behaviour isn’t about the present situation, it’s about something else. Something unresolved or unheard from another time.

And that might take a bit of support to understand. And gently explore. Because these old experiences are unique to you.

And - oddly - sometimes when these old feelings are more properly understood and supported, they don’t have quite the same power in the present moment. When those old feelings can be finally given the support they need, things can shift.

I hope this maybe gives you some understanding that the behaviours that you might be struggling with don’t mean that you’re mad or bad. You’re not. You just maybe need a bit of something you haven’t had yet…

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

Does that phrase strike fear into your heart?

If it does, you’re not alone. So many confused people tell me that their loved ones are desperate to help, but they somehow can’t seem to articulate their needs well enough.

And the responsibility for not having their needs met lands back on – you guessed it – them. It seems like it’s their own fault that no one can help them.

It’s an awful predicament, and it can feel unsolvable. It can mean that you might not even try to express your needs, because what’s the point? You’re actually just going to feel worse. A vicious cycle.

I have mixed feelings about how we talk about needs.

Often our needs might be mis-represented. We might talk about needing people to do certain things to help us (cooking, tidying, looking after the baby, giving us space), but actually what we really need is to feel understood, held, safe, comforted, thought about. We need someone to understand how confused and vulnerable and alone we feel.

And we might not even realise that ourselves, especially if we have had experiences growing up where trying to express these feelings has met with rejection, dismissal, toxic positivity or, even worse, punishment. So we might not be very good at identifying our feelings, and be more used to talking about our needs in terms of tasks.

It can be really hard to feel safe enough to even risk identifying our feelings, let alone naming or expressing them to others. Sometimes, we can start to gently practise with a partner, family member or friend. Seeing how they respond – it might be surprising.

Or if that feels too risky or unavailable, a relationship with a therapist is a good place to start – someone who is there expressly to try to understand and to help you identify what you might be feeling.

If any of this resonates for you, please give this a like, or share it with someone who might also need to hear this.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

And often it can be used in a medicalised sense – what are the safest options in certain scenarios?

But I think we don’t often think about safety in a holistic way when it comes to birth. What does ‘safety’ mean to you, as an individual?

What helps you feel safe isn’t just affected by the practicalities of birth, but also what helps you feel emotionally safe – and that’s unique to you.

So what do I mean?!

Well, for example, some people feel REALLY safe in hospitals, whereas other people don’t, possibly because of previous experiences (or lack of experience) or stories they’ve been given by others. Our bodies are wired to notice safety in a sensory way, so our environment has a massive impact on our sense of safety – smells, lights, noises, how alone or connected we feel to the people around us – our bodies respond to all these things, whether we’re aware of it or not.

Some people feel really safe communicating their needs, whereas others can find that difficult (especially if you have a tendency to try to be convenient), so might need others around to help advocate for them. You might also notice how you feel about ‘authority’, and how safe you feel to question it.

Knowing what help you can access, and about procedures is also part of safety. Knowing about interventions and protocols, understanding options, these all help give us ideas about what is going on.

And all this can be especially tricky to navigate if you’re not so good at recognising or talking about your needs in the moment, if you need a bit of time.

Which is why I think that it can be helpful to think about starting school.

We do a lot of this kind of thinking for children before they start school. We anticipate that they might be feeling vulnerable and unsure, and don’t quite know what to expect. We can’t tell them exactly how it will go for them – there are too many variables – so we can put things in place in advance that we know might help them feel safer.

We support their emotions. We ask them about their feelings and maybe buy story books about going to school to help with that. We maybe even get to meet their teachers, so they can learn more about who will be helping them there. We consider who they are and what aspects they might find emotionally a bit easier or harder than others.

We help make the environment more familiar. We take them to see the school. We show them the toilets and where they will have their lunch. Where they will put their bags. What it smells and sounds like.

We help give them an idea of what kind of activities to expect and how to get help. We find out the procedure for going to the loo, so they can have an idea what to do. We make sure they know how and when they will get food. We give them an idea of what to expect when they come home. All practical things that have an impact on their sense of feeling more safe.

We do not assume that they will know what to do, or how to communicate their needs in the moment, or that they have an idea of what a school environment feels like. We think it through for them, with the school and possibly with other parents too.

And I’m not suggesting that you need someone else to do all these things for you when you are thinking about giving birth, but it might be that you can come up with some ideas of what might help you feel a bit safer and who you might ask for help at various points.

As ever, this is a massive topic and a very short email, but I hope it’s generated some useful ideas. If you know anyone who you think might find it helpful, please do pass it on.

And if you want to talk with me about any of this, please feel free to get in touch. If you’re looking for therapy, I have a couple of spaces currently available on Wednesdays.

And until next time, take care,

Sarah x

And it’s one of the things that we can lose sight of as parents, that we can miss what we are already doing. Often, when we notice what we’re doing, it’s because we’re doing something we feel bad or worried about, not because we’ve done something really amazing. We’re much less likely to say something to ourselves like “I’ve just managed to feed my baby successfully for th 4th time today, go me!” or “My baby made a subtle bid for attention that I picked up on, that’s great!” - but we're very likely to say something like “Oh help, how long have they been in this dirty nappy and I haven’t noticed?”

This business of being a parent - it’s not a technique or a project. It’a a relationship. And like any relationship it ebbs and flows - sometimes it’s easier to communicate/ read the other and sometimes harder. But one of the bits that definitely makes it harder is that we can be given an unrealistic baseline of what ‘good enough’ means.

Which is why I LOVE Video Interaction Guidance - because it allows parents to see themselves to actually be parents. It allows you to see how you unconsciously manage the relationship with your baby, without even thinking about it. When you get to see those micro-moments of attunement that you normally don’t notice, helps to reset that baseline to something realistic and normal, rather than some ideal that no human can achieve.

It can be such a relief.

If you’d like to find out more about VIG, or about how psychotherapy might work for you, please get in touch. I have availability for two new clients (Wednesday and Thursday daytime).

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

And when you become a new mum, these voices are SO loud, because it’s such a time of adjustment that we can feel desperate and want to cling on to things that we know. So these old beliefs can be particularly enticing, even if they don’t actually serve you very well.

One of the beliefs that a lot of us can absorb from childhood is that we have to do the ‘good’ thing to be loved, to be a good person. If we don’t, we will be ‘punished’ in some way by the universe (or just emotionally by people around us).

And so that can mean that we end up doing things that we don’t really want to.

Breastfeeding. Bottle feeding. Co-sleeping. Sleep training. Not taking time for ourselves. Taking time for ourselves. Seeing people. Not seeing people. None of these things is inherently good or bad, but you will possibly have absorbed ideas about what we ‘should’ do. The good thing.

And it can set up such a battle inside us, because we’re desperately trying to do the ‘good’ thing because the fear of being ‘bad’ is too big to face. The idea of doing what we WANT might be terrifying.

Now I’m not suggesting that you do everything you feel you want – these things take a bit of thinking about. But having support to really think about what you want can be really helpful.

Sometimes we’re lucky enough to have people around us who don’t care about the ‘good’ thing – they can trust that what we want is actually ok for us and that we will be able to cope with the consequences of our decisions. And sometimes we need a bit of support from a therapist of some kind who can help us gently tease out our old beliefs and help us decide what we really want to do.

I hope that is a useful thought for you today.

Until next time (which won’t be until the new year), take care,

Sarah x

And everyone else seems to be feeling the same, so maybe that’s normal, right?

And yet, it might leave you feeling slightly empty. That there’s a nagging feeling inside that you want something else.

It can be easy to think that what we want is time by ourselves (and maybe that’s in there too), but what we might want is to feel less alone. We might want to feel held or understood. We might want to feel connected to others in a way that feels satisfying and nourishing.

And that might not fit neatly into the idea of Christmas that we all have. It might involve tears, it might involve anger, it might involve being allowed to have a sulk or a tantrum without being shamed. It might involve being outside, or going out in the dark. It might involve feeling naughty or being able to give to someone who hasn’t asked for something from you. It might involve singing or dancing - maybe with others, maybe by yourself. It might involve time with your baby and/ or partner in a way that isn’t ‘productive’.

And it might not cost anything at all.

Yeah - I know this might all sound woo woo and lovely. But it’s not. This can be the loneliest time of the year and even recognising that fact can be helpful when you’re going through it.

There are lots of resources out there on loneliness (I personally am loving the School of Life articles just now), and sometimes even just starting to talk about it with other people can be fruitful. But if you’re struggling with it, and it feels like the roots might be deeper for you, psychotherapy is a good place to start.

Anyway - if you’re feeling like this just now, please know, you’re not alone.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

Yet motherhood is FULL of humiliation. The indignity of childbirth, the exposure of body parts we generally prefer to keep private, the clumsiness of learning new skills, the vulnerability of needing other people… These are just a few of the ways in which we can feel humiliated, exposed or embarrassed.

It can be all too easy to blame other people. To say that we shouldn’t feel humiliation, and if we do, it’s other’s fault. And yes, I totally believe that being met with kindness and empathic concern is a huge help when we are at risk of

feeling humiliated. When we are feeling exposed in that way, a little kindness goes an awfully long way.

But it is such a horrible feeling that we can do anything to avoid it. We can avoid asking for clarity when we feel as though other people expect us to know something. We can avoid doing certain things in public such as feeding or changing our baby, in case people see our ineptitude. We can avoid talking about our anxieties and fears in case other people are surprised and we are left feeling as though it’s just us, and that maybe that means there’s something wrong with us.

Fear of humiliation is a killer - literally. It can stop people getting the very help they need, for fear of being looked at unkindly. We would sometimes rather keep our awful feelings to ourselves, rather than share them and risk humiliation. Even if we might not be able to cope with them alone.

So - what to do?

As ever, I always suggest that noticing how humiliation shows up for you can be useful. What does it stop you doing? What might life look like if you weren’t scared of it?

Your fear of humiliation might be from old or relatively new experiences where your humiliation was met with disgust, judgement or unkindness. It may be that you can allow yourself to find people or places where you can safely be vulnerable and risk humiliation in ways where you can be met with kindness, maybe even gentle humour.

If any of this resonates, or you would like some space to talk through what is going on for you, I currently have availability for 2 clients, on a Wednesday or Thursday. If you would like to find out more, please get in touch and we can have a brief chat on the phone to see if that might be useful for you.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

It feels as though they are like a bomb that might go off any moment.

You feel on eggshells, as though you somehow better not step on the cracks for fear of something awful happening. And yet you CANNOT talk about it, because it sounds mad - they are just a baby, for heaven’s sake.

That feeling is far from uncommon. And we can try to get around it with routines, with pacifiers, with making sure we are not alone with them very much, with keeping busy. Yet that feeling of terror lurks in the background.

Why does this happen?

There is no simple answer. The psychoanalyst Selma Fraiberg coined the term ‘ghosts in the nursery’ to talk about emotional patterns that are not about the here and now, but show up from our past, like unwanted guests.

Our babies activate our fears more than anyone else possibly can, we are so intimately connected with them. For people so small, they are immensely powerful.

Yet because we are so often ashamed and scared of these feelings, we can pretend that it’s about sleep or feeding or something else. We cannot speak about our terror.

How do we talk about it?

Well, obviously, I always advocate speaking to someone who might ‘get it’. And that isn’t always easy to find. But you might have a sense of a GP, or a Health Visitor, or someone you know who is more psychologically minded who might not be dismissive (or worse, scared) when you talk about how you feel.

Because you need someone who won’t be scared. But who can gently sit with you in this awful space and not be fazed by it. Because this terror doesn’t mean that your baby genuinely IS terrifying but that they have evoked something deep in you that needs some care and attention. You need some looking after.

I know that’s easier said than done, and I wish I could say that every health professional who works with mums is able to work with these difficult feelings but unfortunately that is not the case. However, please, keep trying until you find someone who can.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

Like a baby, you have so many needs - for comfort, for care, for practical looking after, for soothing, for someone to hold your confusion. Never is this more true than when you’re in the vulnerable state of early motherhood.

And - like a baby - it might feel almost impossible to articulate those needs, especially when you’re used to managing most of those needs without other people. In our increasingly disconnected society we often applaud isolation, calling it independence and seeing it as strength, rather than seeing how it can leave us floundering when we actually need more connection.

If you’re used to looking after yourself and not ‘bothering’ other people, being made aware of your needs can feel awful. Genuinely awful. Because not only does it feel exposing and vulnerable, but it can some with a massive sense of self criticism: ‘there is something wrong with me if I need other people.’

We can be so judgemental of neediness. Of when people are in need of others. Yet what if - like for a baby - this is actually a really important part of being human? We don’t judge babies, so why does that change for us?

Babies don’t judge themselves for having needs, and they are born hoping that others will recognise their needs and help them. They don’t even know what their needs are. Yet as we grow up, if we’ve learnt to suppress our need of others, because they’ve been unreliable, or we’ve been told that being a grown up means not needing others, then we might not learn to recognise our needs, let alone know how to express them clearly and confidently.

So why is this particularly important for new mums?

Because, like a baby, your needs as a new mum are huge and you can’t meet them all yourself. And if you aren’t practised at noticing and expressing your needs to others, this can add to your feelings of aloneness and helplessness. You can feel stuck.

So what to do?

This is going to look so different for everyone, but I’d encourage you to consider your feelings about having needs. How do you feel about others knowing about them? Is there shame, or embarrassment or a sense of failure? Where does that come from?

And then, starting to notice your needs themselves. Do I need comfort? Do I need someone to do more things for me? Do I need someone to just listen when I express my feelings? Do I need someone to just be with me so I don’t feel so scared at times?

It might be that you can’t have all these needs met, but maybe you might be able to talk about some of these with someone, without judgement or shame or needing to do anything with them. They just ARE.

And sometimes, just sometimes, when we get more curious about our needs and our feelings about them, something can shift. We can find ways to express them that feel OK enough, and share the feelings around them with others. We can validate our own feelings, and acknowledge how hard some of them are to bear. We can be kind to ourselves and allow that we can’t make things perfect, but we can see that that’s not our fault, it’s because we have needs that just can’t be met well enough just now.

I’m not claiming to have perfectly sussed this myself - I’m still a work in progress! But I just thought that it might be helpful to share some of these thoughts with you.

As ever - if you think someone might benefit from reading this, please do share it with them. And feel free to get in touch if you want to discuss any of this with me.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

And - interestingly - there was an acknowledgement that thinking more about hormones more might be very useful when considering what goes on for women during pregnancy and after birth. I genuinely think this is such an important topic and needs much more attention, but that’s not the purpose of this post.

One of the things that I noticed in the auditorium is that there were so many camps surrounding how to manage menopause - a bit like early motherhood - and I wondered if maybe that can appeal to the part of us that longs to believe that there will be an easy way through. A silver bullet approach to becoming a mum that helps us feel better quickly.

And what struck me, again, is how much we need other people as we navigate these changes. And how if we’ve learned NOT to need other people but to be fiercely independent, or perform in some way, then we will struggle more. Because we need to be able to cry and laugh and feel less alone in this period of adjustment, where everything feels strange and different.

That there is no ‘easy’ way - just a messy, human way to navigate these changes and learn how we need to change to manage this new stage. Feeling held and soothed by others is one of the best things that can happen to us. And knowing that it’s OK to cry and feel unsettled and unstable. That this might be very normal for you. And that everyone’s normal is different.

It’s awful though. I’m not going to pretend that it makes it easy. But it can help you get through. And getting through OK is the important part - because you will get through, but it would be great if you could get through and feel a bit excited for this next stage, rather than resigned to it.

I know that isn’t maybe a point of view that’s particularly popular, when we want quick fixes (I’m right there!) rather than necessarily having to do the work. Because it can be bloody hard. And lonely at times.

So having people that support you and hold you through it as best they can is one of the best things you can hope for. Or find.

As ever, I wonder how this lands for you, whether it provides any hope or just feels too dispiriting? Either way - I really hope you’re finding what you need.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

p.s. I’m loving the School of Life instagram chats about parenthood just now. I may have a wee crush on Alain du Botton…

And this can be especially true when we’re feeling at a loss. Like when we become a parent.

I’m absolutely not saying that practical, physical solutions can’t help. We are embodied beings, after all. But I think that sometimes we can rely on these physical solutions without considering our emotional needs too.

For example, when we are distressed by our baby’s upset, it can be tempting to think that they need more milk, or sleep, or routine. We might find it harder to bear that they need more comfort, more closeness, when we’re already depleted.

It might also bring up echoes for us of what we might need. We might not just need more sleep, or more practical support or time to do other things. We might need more closeness, more connection, more understanding to help us feel less alone and scared.

But these might not be things that we’ve been so aware of before, or know how to access. They might be things that we hoped for from our own families or partners, either now or in the past, and have struggled to get (or just can’t get). So we’ve learnt to just find other solutions - food, sleep, exercise, medication.

I’m not proposing an easy fix - these things are really complex - but maybe, just maybe thinking about these other, more emotional, needs might give us some ideas of what we (and our babies) might need when we’re going through these difficult periods.

And this is why I believe in therapy, because it can be a safe space to start to think about these other needs, and maybe think about how we might get them met. Maybe not perfectly or in the way we would have hoped for, but in ways that might give us a little bit of comfort.

If any of this feels true to you, I’d love to know more about how you’re feeling. It can be a bit lonely out there sometimes.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x

I’ve been noticing how many people talk about the sadness they feel, and how they’re coping with it.

And it got me thinking about the many, MANY losses that motherhood brings, some of which are really obvious, but some which are much harder to pinpoint.

We talk about loss of identity, but for each of us, that is so personal that it doesn’t always give a sense of what is going on for us individually. For one person, the loss of being seen as someone who is in control might not be a big deal, whereas for someone else it is devastating.

Losses (or gains) to do with our bodies - how strong we feel, how much we trust what our body can do, how much we need to move to feel good, how much we need to feel desirable to feel ok about ourselves, how we feel about food and eating, how we feel about breasts and vulvas, how we feel about privacy and exposure. These are all HUGE things, and yet we’re somehow expected to take them in our stride.

Other losses - loss of clear goals, loss of being noticed for what we’re doing (and maybe the associated loss of money), the loss of status, the loss of structure to our day, the loss of autonomy, the loss of the illusion of independence, the loss of admiration…

I’ve barely scratched the surface, yet I’m sure that you might be able to identify with at least one or two of these losses. Because they are part of the process, however they impact on you.

Yet it can feel shameful, ungrateful to talk about these losses. Your baby ‘should be enough’ to help counter the grief, as far as many people would like us to believe.

How would it be though to talk about these losses? To have space to grieve. Not because it’s self-indulgent, but because it’s a necessary part of adjusting to this new phase of life?

And maybe you can find that space around you in sympathetic family members or friends, or in mother and baby groups - on or offline.

And if you can’t, there’s therapy. I know that might sound a cop out, but I think that sometimes it’s the only place we can start to find to explore these feelings, until we feel brave enough to take them outside the therapy room.

If this resonates with you - please do consider sharing it with other people. I think it’s important to talk about these things.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah

x

It can feel very cruel to suggest that maybe we won’t be quite the same people as we were before we become a parent: because until you know what that looks like, it can feel very scary to consider you might change. It’s an unknown.

But we know we will change, somehow. Our brains change, our hormones change, our bodies change and our relationships change. So we will change too.

And that can be terrifying - because unless we’re really wanting that, we might want to go back to the familiar, the comforting. With so much else changing too, we believe we need our sense of self to stay steady, right?

But the reality is that we need to become new versions of ourselves to manage to be good enough parents. Not different people entirely, but maybe different configurations of ourselves.

It’s not something that’s talked about particularly, this process of change. Or else we can think that it will magically happen. We will magically become more patient. Or more organised. Or more sociable. Or better at being OK with chaos. Or better at communicating with our partner.

This process of becoming a mother can unfortunately be slow and at times very painful. The process is necessary. We can’t AI our way through it - the process is what helps us develop the neural pathways. Our brains are plastic, but it takes time for us to learn how to work with the new emotions that motherhood and our babies arouse in us.

Flip - that might all sound a bit hard work. Well - yes it is - although at times it might not feel like it. Some parts will be easier for us than others. And sometimes we will need to lean more heavily on others than we would maybe like.

Because if there is one thing that I would say is most important during this process, I would say it is connection. Connection to people who love and accept you (well enough) and connection to your baby - and then hopefully you can stay more connected to yourself in this ever-changing landscape.

If you’re struggling with having good enough connection - that’s where I believe counselling can come in, to provide a bit of support whilst you’re developing relationships outside the counselling room. Because it’s not always there immediately - but it can come.

Anyway - those are my thoughts this week.

Until next time, take care,

Sarah x