Pride Angel Journeys

The trouble with evenings

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire, April 02, 2014

At some point, and I hazard a guess that it was about Week 3, our peaceful sleepy/hungry baby decided that evenings were a bit of a problem.

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Born Yesterday

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire, March 03, 2014

I swallowed two paracetamol tablets in a vain attempt to shift the heavy pain that had settled across my right eye, and shuffled, bleary-eyed, into the lounge of the birth centre, where I found Sally holding our baby.

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Delivering the afterbirth

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire, February 09, 2014

I knew this moment was significant. Standing in the birthing pool holding the baby that seconds earlier had squeezed its way out of me, I could hear the last bars of Morcheeba’s ‘Part of the Process’ playing as Sally leaned across the edge of the pool towards me for a photo.

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What do Lesbian and Babies have in common?

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire, December 01, 2013

I was eight days overdue and the pressure was mounting – but unfortunately only metaphorical pressure rather than the literal pressure that might signal labour was imminent.

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When a biro cross changes everything

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire, November 12, 2013

At thirty-six weeks pregnant, I’d never been so grateful for the Easter holidays.

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Birth training in adverse weather conditions

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire , October 20, 2013

It was a sunny Sunday morning at the end of March.

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Fluid and Frustration

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire , October 16, 2013

It was the middle of March and, thirty-four weeks pregnant, I was lying on a fluffy purple rug with my head under a table, on the floor of a tiny room in the local Surestart centre – the only way the dimensions of the room allowed me to stretch out fully so that the midwife could measure my bump.

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To sleep train, or not to sleep train

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire , September 17, 2013

I was thirty weeks pregnant, perfecting my waddle, complaining about aches in muscles I barely knew I had and drinking Gavsicon straight from the bottle, like a drunkard desperate for the next claggy aniseed fix.

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Hunter-Gatherer Aspirations

Article by Lindsey, West Yorkshire , August 30, 2013

It was Christmas and I was twenty-two weeks gone when I decided that we’d timed this pregnancy perfectly (I say ‘we’ – of course aside from putting the raw ingredients together and hoping for the best, ‘we’ can hardly take the credit for my body deciding it was about time to have a go at the baby thing).

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