Yesterday, I booked Amelia into crèche for the first time as a toddler. It was such a big milestone — one of those “firsts” you imagine when you’re holding your tiny baby in the NICU and dreaming of normality. But what caught me off guard was how bittersweet it felt. You see, for us, this first is also a last.
People often ask me, “So, when are you having the next one?” And I always say, “Never again.” Without fail, I get the same response: “Oh, you say that now…” But I don’t say it lightly. I say it because I know. I say it with the weight of birth trauma behind me.
Therapy has been life-changing — I won’t deny that. It’s helped me understand and process so much of what we went through. But trauma doesn’t vanish. It doesn’t disappear with enough talking or mindfulness or checklists. Therapy gives you tools, but it doesn’t erase the pain. And booking Amelia into crèche yesterday brought all of that back.
Every first she reaches is a precious gift. But it’s also a reminder that I won’t do this again. There won’t be another baby to dress in first-day clothes, or to drop off for their first playgroup session. It’s a strange mixture of joy and grief, pride and pain. Because when trauma is tied to your journey into motherhood, it follows you into every milestone — even the happy ones.
I feel unbelievably lucky. Lucky that Amelia was born when she was, because five years earlier, I truly don’t believe she would have survived. The advances in neonatal medicine over the past decade are nothing short of miraculous. And I will forever be grateful for the teams at St George’s Hospital, Princess Anne Hospital, and Worthing Hospital. They gave her life. They gave me the chance to experience these milestones at all.
So while yesterday might look like a simple step for a toddler, it was a giant leap for this mum. It was a reminder of everything we’ve survived. And it was a quiet celebration — of the fact that she can go to crèche, that she is healthy enough, curious enough, confident enough.
And that, for me, is everything.
If you’ve experienced birth trauma or struggled with your own parenting journey, know you are not alone. Your feelings are valid. Please feel free to share this post, like and subscribe to stay connected. We are building a community that truly gets it.
References & Resources
Birth Trauma Association: www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk St George’s University Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust Princess Anne Hospital – University Hospital Southampton Worthing Hospital – University Hospitals Sussex NHS Foundation Trust
I hope she enjoys her time in the creche. Another milestone for you both.
it’s no one else’s business, but we all do it. I’m a bit more cautious after asking a colleague if she would like more, when she said she had 3 miscarriages over the past year. It hit me like a rock.
We need to navigate conversations like this very carefully don’t we?
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We really do need to navigate it very carefully. I remember a complete stranger asking “When are you having your next one” and I said, we’re not. And her response was you will change your mind. I said no we won’t. My husband has had a vasectomy and the fact that St George’s the Princess Anne and Worthing Hospital also said please don’t have any more, I think I’m going to listen to them.
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Very sensible.
I feel that ‘women’ say these things, because it’s the norm for us.
My sons girlfriend (of 11 years!) Is adamant she doesn’t want children, they have a dog, amazing jobs. She is only 30, she loves her life! She always says she isn’t worried about me – as I have grandchildren- it’s her mum & dad. She is an only child, and concerned about their feelings.
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