The Solstice

The Winter Solstice and I’m sitting here in bed, nursing my morning cup of tea brought to me, as ever, by my husband. He knows me well enough to understand that, for the first hour of my day, I am best left in my own space with a hot beverage to gently recover from my “it’s too early” fog. Best not to poke this particular bear before she has had a dribble of caffeine …

The Winter Solstice is my favourite day of the year. Not because I relish its dank gloom and oppressive chill but because it brings the promise of the next phase of the seasons – the gradual return of the sun; a lifting of spirits brought low by too many damp days; the day before we humans can emerge, blinking into the light to welcome what should surely be the real start of the New Year. And, paradoxically, on this darkest of all days in our northern hemisphere, I feel emotionally light, finally able to embrace the snuggle-down, wrap-up-warm, melancholy of Winter.

The beauty of the dark is in the awakening of our deeper senses. Robbed of light, we are more aware of the pleasure of touch, the depth of odours and the crackle of ice in the night air. Those senses that get bleached out in the glare of the sun, get their moment to romance us.

So on this, my very own New Year’s Eve, I turn, as always at the end of one year and the start of the next, to think about what the new year might bring to me and what I, in turn, might bring to it.

There is much that I hope the year will bring to me: more time to spend with my beautiful grandson to watch him discover the world with fresh eyes; exciting new learning opportunities as I step ever deeper into the world of publishing, culminating, on my husband’s April birthday, with the launch of my first book, “Your Baby Skin To Skin” (what a celebration that will be!); and more singing – much more singing. Singing with my close friend around her grand piano and sinking into our shared passion of classical music-making calms my ever-fidgety soul and soothes my needling anxieties in a way that nothing else can. More singing then …

What can I bring to the year?

Pondering my relationship with my work, quirky as it often is and steeped as I am in the world of hormones, peach-fresh babies and the milky haze of suckling, I feel that the time is right for me to create a new way of reaching women and their families, and the professionals who hope to support them. Some way of providing advice, ideas, tricks of the trade and simple across-the-ether hugs when it is 2am and the baby is crying AGAIN, or in the middle of the day when the pain from a bitten nipple threatens to derail a mum’s snatched moment of calm over a cappuccino.

I cannot always be at the end of a phone and my vast texting and emailing time spent supporting women sometimes threatens to overwhelm me to the point where there is no song long enough to settle my exhausted nerves.

There needs to be a place to go, quickly and privately, to find answers to those parenting questions that seem to attract endless conflicting advice and mythology when all that is needed is clarity and honesty.

So this blog will be that place. Somewhere I can bring my daily work worries which I have inherited willingly from my clients and offer up my ponderings. A place where women and their partners, and professionals can come when they are feeling worried, alone and vulnerable. They can come here, flailing for answers and, hopefully, find some. Those who know me well will not expect the conventional wisdom or earnest sops. My somewhat sideways look at life and my often irreverent language are legendary and as this is my blog, expect my voice, my language, my ways.

Over the year, I hope to build a body of posts covering every aspect of early parenting and infant feeding: from skin-to-skin to bleps and from sling-making to weaning. If your problem or worry or question is not listed here, let me know. This blog will be my offering to the year. A hand in the darkness and gloom so that we can journey along more confidently together.

Happy Solstice!

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