Welcome to Mums Advice

Tag: mumsadvice

  • Eating Disorder Awareness

    Trigger warning ❤️🖤💜

    So, this week is eating disorder awareness week. Every year I do a post on my experience with an eating disorder as I think it is incredibly important we raise awareness and offer support to those who struggle.


    For those who don’t know I had anorexia when I was 15 years old (around that age). I was in recovery for two years with a counsellor – at one point they wanted to admit me to hospital to be tube fed however my mum took the time out of her life to care for me 24/7 at home to feed me as well as monitor my health, see this is the other thing people don’t realise, it’s not just the appearance anorexia or any eating disorder effects it is the internal damage.

    I was high risk of a heart attack, had constant tummy and chest pains as well as having to have weekly/fortnightly blood tests to check all was functioning normally. Despite all of this I still wanted to loose weight. Fast forward to now I still struggle with body image, I’m sure most people get sick of hearing me say I need to loose weight or I’m fat, but to me this is really.

    I don’t see my body how others see it, in fact I’m the heaviest I’ve been in years and that is a huge daily battle. I am incredibly grateful to my body for growing and birthing two gorgeous boys however I still hate myself for many different reasons always wishing I looked different or could change things about me.

    Although my story is of my battle with anorexia I have also come across people on my journey who have a different eating disorder, some you would have no idea struggles, this is the thing not all disorders are visible so please be kind and offer support because trust me living with a demon like this is awful and it never goes away, you just learn to accept it as the new you. My inbox is always open to anyone struggling, please seek the help you need ❤️


    I do not have any photos of myself from ten years ago however the photo on the left is me after I split from my ex, I saw myself as fat and hated myself. I look back at that image and wish I was like that now instead of the weight I am but I know it’s not healthy in reality.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/ellamay.freeman

  • I Nearly Throat Chopped My 2 Year Old

    I don’t do scary movies… I watched Paranormal Activity about 5 years ago and still have demon-related PTSD. In the middle of the night I heard our bedroom door creak open. I figured it was Lennox but it was pitch-black so I couldn’t tell. I blinked away the sleep so I could help him up into our bed. Instead, in the doorway was a set of terrifying glowing eyes and mouth. It wasn’t a random light and it was hovering only a foot or so above the ground.

    I froze trying to figure out what the hell I was looking at. Then silently it drifted a few feet closer. Our house is 120 years old. If you LOOK at the floors the wrong way they creak. But this thing didn’t make a sound. That’s when I called upon the Lord.

    Now, my relationship with the Big Guy isn’t real consistent…. I’m like that friend who only calls when they need to borrow money. But I needed Him NOW. I thought “Lord, it’s Angela. If you’ve got any of that white light laying around would you mind sprinkling some around my bed? Leftovers can be sent my kid’s rooms but the white light priority is right here.” The thought no sooner left my head and the demon moved closer.

    By now I’m completely frozen, completely freaking out. And I thought “Alright, LORD! The white light ain’t gonna do it. You’re going to call up the Archangel Michael himself and tell him to get to Walnut Street stat! There is some real life demon slaying that needs done and you gotta call in the big guns.”

    The demon grew closer and I knew the Lord had forsaken me. I was on my own. I was weighing out if throat chops work on demons when suddenly it whispered… “Mommy?” Oh. Sweet Baby Jesus in a manger. Oh, it was just my Lennox, thank you Lord. But wait… why the heck was he glowing??? I flipped on the bedside light to reveal a (apparently glow in dark!) Ninja Turtle shirt. It was at this moment I realized three things:

    1) My baby has a future as a ninja because he was absolutely soundless.
    2) I nearly throat chopped my two-year-old.
    3) If I’m going to expect quick service from Michael the Archangel I’m going to have to stop being Jesus’s “call you when I need money” friend.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/angelamkelsay

  • The Funny Side Of Bras

    Bras for c-cups and under: Hello princess, let me kiss your nipples with a hint of lace, while enrobing your breasts in fine silk, gently embracing them together like two fragile turtle doves, cooing in the snow.

    Bras for d-cups and up: What’s up blob-fish, here’s beige canvas held together by braided rope in constrictor knots, and intricate pulley-system. Don’t forget to yell “Heave-ho!” before hoisting those anchors onto the upper deck so people in a 5-mile radius can run for cover. We attached a hastily-made bow in the middle, so you’ll feel pretty.

  • To The Mama In Row 19

    To the Mama in row 19

    I watched you and your husband board the plane with your handsome 20 year old son who had Down syndrome. My insides freaked out when you sat right in front of me. On a giant plane with hundreds of people…. it was meant to be!!

    Your son kept turning around and playing with my boy. They were holding hands and making faces to eachother. You tried to distract your boy from “bugging” the people behind you. But then you turned around and saw my 5 year old who also has Down syndrome. Your face lit up!! You started playing with him from between the seats. Asking basic questions about him in broken English.

    Halfway through the flight my wife brought our 2 year old to me and we swapped kids. When you saw my ‘baby’ who also has Down syndrome you couldn’t contain yourself! You played with him through the seats for a matter of minutes before you were standing up with open arms to take him from me. And with zero hesitation I handed him over.

    For over half an hour I watched as you sang to him, snuggled him, played little games and loved on him. I watched your son stroke my boys face and give him many kisses on on the cheek. Despite the horrible travel we had prior, and our pure exhaustion, you couldn’t wipe the giant smile off my face for anything!

    As I watched your son my heart soared as I saw my future. And I know as you looked into to the almond eyes of my boys you saw your past.

    I would never ever just hand one of my kids off to a complete stranger. But you weren’t a stranger. Despite never knowing you. Despite your broken English and my zero ability to speak Spanish (unless dos cervezas por favor counts? 😂). You weren’t a stranger. You are family, you are my tribe, you are me. The connection, the understanding and the bond we share because of our journeys. One of my favorite things about parenting our amazing sons. The giant family we automatically joined because of 47 perfect chromosomes.

    To the Mama in row 19. Thank you 💛💙

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/holly.teare

  • To The Woman Who Is Hoping And Longing

    To any woman picking this box up to stare at it in longing, in mourning, in hesitation. To wonder. To wish. To throw it in her shopping cart again this month.

    Throwing it in with hope. With fear. With premature excitement. With anticipation. With a sense of dread that it may just be another down the drain waste basket Walmart drop of $12.98. Knowing that even if she didn’t buy this one, she’d be filling her basket full of 99 cent droppers tests, or trying every single other brand to double check a cruel reality.

    To any woman who has pulled this test out of it’s box time and time again, only to cry in disappointment and frustration at that one faint negative line in the result window. Only to remember why this has been the hardest money to spend and the hardest pill to swallow. After all the treatments, injections, prescriptions, hormones, cycles, and positive feedback, how could there only be one single line? How? How could the test still be negative?

    Why, after everything, is completely crumbling to shambles her end result. How come nothing she has done been successful? How come not a single medical breakthrough has actually broken through? Is she a failure? Is all hope completely lost?

    To the woman who could own stock in these not so cheap little plastic sticks. Because no matter the difficulties she has faced or the hurdles she has struggled to jump, she never loses hope – hope that maybe this might finally be her month. Maybe this excruciating journey will come to an end and she’ll finally get to make her first doctors appointment, and plan her announcement. Maybe she can tell her best friend during that joyful lunch date or video conference her family in another state. Maybe she can look forward to the good for a while and forget about the bad.

    To the woman who is going back to the trash can a day later just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. Maybe it was actually positive and just took longer to show it. The woman who has picked this up in the store and put it back, because she can’t handle another heartbreaking night in the bathroom. She can’t handle another shower just to hide the gut wrenching sobs. She walks past this test in Target, and gives it a soft glassy, doubtful glance. “Why bother?” She asks herself. “Why put myself through it all again this month.”

    To the woman who took this test last week and got her positive. She got her wish. Her miracle. She got the one thing she had prayed fervently for. The woman who is on the table this week at her first ultrasound hearing no heartbeat, thinking back to the relief and joy she felt the moment the test in this pink box made all her dreams come true. Dreams now crushed – by devastation, by an unexpected and unwelcome fate. The woman who is now living with a broken heart, broken plans, broken dreams and broken promises.

    To the woman who picks the perfect gift, and silently smiles at baby showers, month after month, year after year. Still holding on to hope that one day it might be her they’re celebrating. She is exploding with happiness for her friends, but engulfed in mourning for herself.

    This test? It does not define you. Each time it’s thrown in the trash doesn’t decrease YOUR worth. This test does not make you more or less of a person. It’s thin, stained lines selfishly taunt some of your most valued, precious endeavors, but it does not define your goodness. It will never measure your womanhood, or your ability to love. It doesn’t compare you to others, and it doesn’t set your worth.

    Your life is incredibly valuable and at the end of the day, whether or not that second line appears, you are still strong. You’re still going to keep pressing on, and you’re going to be ok.

    It is not your fault.

    You are not broken.

    Your body is not damaged.

    Your are still very much a woman. A woman who is no less than the women this comes effortless for.

    You deserve to achieve all of the things you set your mind to.

    Your dreams, goals and life visions are and will always be worth chasing, no matter the cost.

    It’s ok to ask questions.
    And it’s ok to ask the hard ones to God.

    This is not the end for you.

    This battle is not your whole story.

    The pain you feel is real, and yes, you should feel it to it’s full extremity.

    You should talk about it.

    You should keep fighting it, but only because you are 1 in 8 that are brave enough to.

    Sweet girl, do not let this downpour consume you. Do not let it become who you are or what you are about. If anything, allow it to give you a bigger voice. Allow it to become your motivation. Your power. Your direction to win this race you’re weary of running.

    I’m not going to say be patient. I’m not going to say try harder, or take a break, or “just relax.” I’m going to say, there are no realistic answers here. There are no incentives that exempt us from the trials and tribulations of life. No matter how much I wish there was, there just isn’t. There are no fairytales. There are no explanations for why things happen the way that they do, but I trust that there is a reason. There is an underlying purpose in our deepest, darkest struggle. Maybe it’s a beautiful, happy ending. Maybe it’s being the comfort and salvation someone else needs in this exact journey. Maybe it’s simply a small voice that whispers for us to get back up and try again tomorrow – because it is going to be ok.

    I’m going to keep praying for you. I’m going to keep you on my heart with faith that this page is going to turn. This uphill climb is going to lead to one breathtaking view, and your suffering will be no more.

    But in the mean time, remember – you’re valuable and oh so incredibly beautiful. You’re a good friend, an extraordinary light, and a sister or daughter. Maybe, somehow, you’re already a mother just longing for more. You’re not in this alone. Your boat is not going to sink. Adjust your sails and have peace, my girl. You are going to be ok.

    • @𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

  • Breastfeeding Is NOT Normalized

    Breastfeeding is NOT normalized and I’m going to tell you why.

    2 days ago Ashley Graham posted this picture of her looking sexy as hell and got a whole lot of love on her post.
    1 day prior she posted the picture of her feeding her baby and every other comment talks about how she needs to cover up and she shouldn’t expose herself like that and other crap comments.

    Why is it okay to post sexy bikini pictures but it’s not okay to post a breastfeeding picture?

    I hope the woman worried about her “8 year old son” seeing this is also keeping her son away from beaches and pools.

    I hope the women preaching that Ashley needs a cover her baby while he eats in public are also covering themselves while they eat.

    I hope those commenting on her picture how “inappropriate” it is are also telling Victoria’s Secret to take down their advertising pictures in malls.

    Breastfeeding is not normalized. People still think it’s gross or weird or inappropriate. This is why we have to fight so hard to normalize it.

    NEWS FLASH: Breastfeeding advocates aren’t shaming you for bottle/formula feeding your baby. We simply believe in every mother’s right to breastfeed if that’s what she chooses. We believe in the right to be properly educated on breastfeeding and to have proper access to resources when needed. We believe that women have a right to breastfeeding support.

    And we believe that every woman has the right to publicly feed their baby any way they choose without being shamed for it!

    A lot of ignorant people are completely missing the point of this post. The “likes” don’t matter. Yes, the breastfeeding picture has more “likes” but have you read the comments? They’re horrible. While the bikini picture has less “likes” there’s more support and uplifting comments on that post.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1488816968

  • My Son Was Killed By His Partner

    My son was killed yesterday by his partner. Today she is going to court for breaching restraining order and will be bailed. It could take months for any justice to even begin for the loss of my son due to domestic violence.

    Many times he had walked away, many times he had been brought to my door by police as they knew it was safest for him, we sat outside his house not long ago and as a grown man he was scared to go inside, I had to wait up the street in case he called out for me and needed me to come back. She attempted to stab him last month and was charged, she’s scarred his body many times with her violence. He was no angel but he did not to my knowledge lay a hand on her.


    If he had run her down and left the scene would he be bailed? If her family had lost they’re loved one would she be bailed? I don’t understand this, domestic violence against men is real….my son is never going to walk through my door again or be called to be picked up because she’s “lost the plot” how can she walk free…? My boy is dead, she should be held in custody. My son most definitely wouldn’t be bailed if she was left to die on the side of the road by his hands. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this but I am going to do something.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/faith.baker.75641

  • Do You See A Baby That Shouldn’t Be Born?

    Tell me what you see when you look at this photo ?
    Do you see a baby that shouldn’t be born ?
    Do you see a baby who’s life is not valuable ?

    The government does ! In the UK you can terminate a pregnancy up to 24 weeks, unless your child has Down Syndrome .. then it is legal to terminate up to 39 weeks and 6 days !

    Layla was born with Down Syndrome early at 35 weeks and 6 days. That means the sweet little baby you are looking at in this photo, could have still been aborted on the day she was born. Just because she has an extra chromosome.

    Heidi Crowter (who herself has Down Syndrome) is campaigning to change this .. For all babies in the womb to have the same legal standing.

    imwithheidi are you ?

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/x.becca.rose.x

    ⁣

  • I Just Don’t Know What’s Wrong With Me

    I had a friend reach out to me this morning, she had a baby 2 weeks ago, was in tears, and didn’t know what to do.
    “Nikki, I just don’t know what’s wrong with me…”
    And I remember feeling JUST like that. There was something wrong with me. Society paints this beautiful picture of bringing a baby home and everything being sweet and loving.
    Except that’s not reality.


    You get home with this little life that is COMPLETELY dependent on you.
    You come home with this body that is so foreign you’re not entirely sure it’s yours. A stomach that still looks 5 months pregnant, breasts that may or may not be leaking, stitches in places you never thought possible, and cramps like you can’t believe.


    You come home having your body literally ripped apart to give life. With the hormones progesterone and estrogen plummeting causing changes in your brain chemistry.
    You come home already exhausted and then have to be awake every two hours. Yet somehow you have to recover from birth, be a mom to your other children, clean the house, and somewhere love your partner. All while just wanting to sleep for a year.


    You come home and are somehow expected to know what to do, how to do it, and love every second of it.
    At my 6 week check up they handed me a piece of paper that asked whether I was a harm to myself or my baby. With neat little check boxes. I wasn’t in danger of harming myself or my child so obviously I was okay.
    Except I wasn’t.
    It asked whether I felt distant from my child, having trouble connecting with her.
    I didn’t.


    The thing was, I felt distant from everyone BUT her. I felt like we were on a little raft together floating in the middle of the ocean surrounded by thundering waves. I felt inadequate. Like I was gonna fuck it all up in the next minute. I felt unappreciated. Like this was just my life now. I was just a dairy cow, here for my child’s nourishment and that’s all I was. I felt overwhelmed with her need for me, and only me. No one else made her happy and I found some way to make it a bad thing and make it my fault. I felt like anyone would be better for my family. Like they would be better off without me.

    I got all sorts of dark and twisty and overwhelmed in my head.
    This is Post Partum Depression. And over 85% of women do not report these feelings because society has somehow convinced us that there is something wrong with us if we don’t love every second of motherhood. These are feelings that are NATURAL after giving birth. And the best part is most cases get better just by talking about it. Just talking. Call a friend. Call your mom. Tell your partner. TELL YOUR DOCTOR. Because you do NOT deserve to feel this way. You are NOT a bad mother for having these feelings. You are NOT broken.

    You’re a Mama. And damn it you created LIFE in that body.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/nicole.r.wagener

  • Don’t Let People Kiss Your Babies


    ———————————————————————

    Don’t let people kiss your babies ….

    I was always skeptical about stuff like this like it could never happen to me lucky it’s not deadly

    He has dry flaky skin on his face and he broke it open the next thing i know it’s infected … and taken over half his face …. we went to the er have been to the dr 3 times already and this only started February 17th …. finally it came back that he tested positive for the cold sore virus….

    He is on antibiotics for any infections and antiviral meds as well … he has to see Ear nose throat specialist to make sure that he don’t have any hearing damage … he also now needs to be seen by a pediatric dermatologist ….

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/twinsarespecial/