I’m just back from the nurse, getting ‘that three yearly plastic poker thing’ (i.e. Cervical Smear) done. Naturally, I wasn’t looking forward to it.
However, surprisingly it wasn’t the plastic that was the most painful experience of my ordeal.
It was the part where the nurse decided to keep me hostage and explain to me for 20 minutes that I should stop breastfeeding my 10-month-old son and that he should be sleeping through the night and in his own bed. The icing on the cake however, was when she suggested I call my health visitor for tips (FYI my health visitor suggests not only do I breastfeed but that I express on top of this to provide milk for my son’s cereal, and any other meal that requires milk). So, no, I will not be calling my health visitor. Nor will I be taking your unsolicited advice.
Crazy lady.
Luckily I’ve had 10-months to get used to people piling advice on top of me, so I’m now excellent at not accepting it, smiling, and moving on. Life’s too short and babies grow up far too quickly to worry about co-sleeping and how often they feed. I love it and so does he, so no need for you to get your knickers in a twist, dear.
Squidgy Pie 