The Milk Memoirs

One part chronicle, one part resource of all things breastfeeding and family life…with a good dose of fun,crafts & mommy realness


Hello baby!! Introductions…

So much for the latest preggo update posts I had in draft, the home birth prep posts, or even our latest maternity shoot shares I had planned for this week and all rest for the next… Instead,today,Im taking a very quick timeout from the deep,dark  motherhood trenches of newbornness (so in truth I have no idea how cohesive or readable this post actually is), and am introducing you to our brand new daughter…And really, in the light of day, it’s all that matters in any case,right?. So…

It is with Continue reading


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Final Few Weeks of Preparation

36 weeks

Guys. I’m going to level with you – the nightmares I’ve had about this birth have made me feel a little anxious about this birth. And not like in the way of “oh, my gawd, birth is terrifying” – because if you knew me, or have followed along on this blog for any decent amount of time, you’d know that I only have happy thoughts and googoo eyes about birth. In fact, I see labour as one big day of celebration, happy dances and joy.

I know, not what you would normally hear – in fact, one of my dearest friends said at Continue reading


How to Avoid Tearing During Birth

Its enough to make you go all Michael Jackson-esque, and grab your own crotch and wince, right? You know? The thought of ripping that delicate flesh of…down there. At least that used to be my reaction as a youth, whenever I heard these horror stories of women who had birthed and torn themselves to seemingly shreds. And I mean, just looking at the stats of all the stories, it seemed like it was inevitable that a woman was to tear more often than not. Even as excited and relaxed as my view on birth had always been, that little factor of tearing, or worse yet, being SLICED open by the doc always seemed to be looming in the back of mind. Like a tiny little birth bogey man, grinning in the back shadows of my thoughts.

And I don’t think I was the only one who thought like that. Right? I mean, you still Continue reading


A Decision to Birth at Home

As any parent would gladly offer up to you, the path to parenthood is well-laden with poigniant decisions that need to be made. All of which are always so personal and unique to the dynamic of your own little family. And in a perfect world, we could all share our decisions, if we so choose to, without fear of judgement or ignorant side comments tossed our way. But alas, that is not the world we live in – and that’s ok, I guess… So against all good and sane advice, I’ve decided to go public with our decision to birth at home. Obviously all well-laid plans can go completely to shit in the birthing world – I am pretty firmly rooted in the land of reality, so I’m not oblivious to this. And that’s also ok – for I am also completely open to unpredictable nature and rhythms of birth. But mostly, I am deeply and strongly rooted in the confidence and belief I have in my body.

Although, that statement is more around birth itself, than around homebirth, isn’t it? So last night, when Mike very casually asked me, “so, Continue reading


On your third birthday Parker-Grace

In case you’re confused…no, it’s not the 30th’s just me doing a bit of ground hog day and playing blog catch-up over here. So bear with me, as we hyperspace back to my littlest Parker’s birthday, and I actually get to share my thoughts and mom feels with you…as well as my message to my girl marking this very special occassion…

Every year, when the girls’ birthdays come around, I find myself stuck in their baby folders…Mike always warns me – as he knows I get mesmerised by it and then completely lost in it and the whole world goes to pot- I never listen to him. But he’s always right, I just keep going through them – plastered to that screen. Only blinking to due to flooded eyes, or stupid ear-to-ear grins. What can I say? I can’t help myself. Photos are my jam.

From the photos we eventually, especially in Parker’s case, we all gather round to watch her birth video. It always captures the kiddies’ attention, so much so that they have it on repeat. And no matter how many times I watch that video, with both girls nestled on my lap, I still spill tears of joy… *Now, before you go ahead and think I’m a sentimental bloggy asshole who writes as if everything is perfect and just so dreamy-weemy, let it be known this daydreamy-like state also always abruptly slides into Morgy ugly crying because she doesn’t have a birth video of her own. Then we, as usual, end up frantically having to dig out those 3 or 4 quick birth snaps we do have of her on the day. We, of course, pile on the love and koosh, and are for a few moments emotionally drained by the sudden, although reliably annual Morgan-Lee birth-vid-mini-breakdown.*

But birth video hissy fits aside, and point being, Continue reading


Its OK to Grieve your Birth Experience…


Why the “All that matters” syndrome should really just go suck it.

All too often, when the birth didn’t go quite as the mother had hoped for, well-meaning folk are always so quick to produce the, “all that matters is that it’s a healthy baby” . Or the “you know, the end result is all that matters, not the delivery. ” Or even the “that’s not important, darling. All that matters is that you and baby are fine”…All that matters… *cue silent head shake*…Now, I have absolutely no doubt that these well-meaning friends and family are truly just trying to offer that poor mother a bridge over her troubled waters. Except, all that the “bridge” is really doing is belittling her actual feelings, and adding an extra layer of shame. Shame that she really doesn’t need.

And yet, day in and day out, you’ll find countless mothers who have been left with that great disappointment that haunt them, are now also then Continue reading


You made me a mom

All about First Borns


Note: This is intended to be for my daughter (my first born), but also to share with you dearest reader. You’ll notice how I swing in my narrative, addressing both her and then you. So let’s just pretend you, my daughter and I are knocking elbows at a cozy little wooden table, somewhere warm and lovely, as we tip our cups of tea to our lips and chat about first borns:

You were my first. You taught me how to be a mother. A parent. And that’s the thing with the eldest, isn’t it? Whilst one’s heart is equally split between your children, there’s a well-defined marker in life that the eldest will always hold: That very instant that you became a mother.

Morgan-Lee, it was through you that my heart learnt Continue reading