“You are at risk” they said. “You should go and see a mental health nurse” they said. I said “change the name and I might go!!” Mental health and depression still has a stigma attached to it and the very mention of going to see a mental health nurse filled me with dread. That was four years ago.

It took me three weeks to get an appointment so when I got there I was over the worst.

My baby had been born prematurely and died a few hours later. This made me more at risk from post natal depression. Coupled with the grief that I was suffering too I was in the ‘high risk’ group. If ever there was a time that my brain would work overtime that was now.  I had one question for the Mental Health Nurse who had been cojoled into seeing, “Can I talk myself out of depression” she waited for a second then said “yes you can”. That was all I needed. I knew I was doing the right thing. Each day I applied a system, a strategy to help me feel better. I kept a record and now I teach it to others. If I can survive my baby dying then you can achieve anything.

One of the most powerful things I had learned year before was about how to stop overthinking. I had read a book and learned how to stop it. When my brain asked, “How will I cope?” I replaced it with “I am coping”. When I lay awake at night I reminded myself I was fine. When I thought about taking my own life I knew that tomorrow I would think about it less.  Each day the light at the end of the tunnel got brighter.

I am running a series of seminars in Warwick shortly focussing on Women at Work and stopping overthinking. I would love to meet you.

If you would like more information please email events@jocameron.co.uk

WHAT WE DID : The topic was ‘The Power of Interpretation’ by seeing things differently. Most of the time was spent in a light-hearted, supportive and friendly discussion. We looked at some of the things that had naffed people off last week and how to view them in a more positive and constructive light.

What we all love about these free flowing discussions is that we unearth lots of things that people want to change.

THE CHANGES WE MADE : Last night one woman banking sector worker realised that what she really wanted was a fitter, healthier body. Several people in the public and private sector discussed how to deal with difficult colleagues at work and another very personal challenge was how to deal with some very emotional times lately. One business owner is so proud to have started running and is loving it. This is what she said…

“My goal for the week is to carry on running – just been again this morning and ran for the longest distance yet without stopping.  Not sure how far it is, but it is the length of a field – like a par 5 golf hole!  I ran it both ways this morning – yay!

We are creating a really uplifting group of people and its really exciting watching it grow before our very eyes.

What we all agreed however is that there is a sliding scale of what people feel is bad and what people think is good. We all have things that press our buttons. It’s all about relativity. To someone a small argument with someone is the end of the world yet to others it’s just a small inconvenience.

Most of my life I used to stress about the smallest of things. I used to snap at people and think that the smallest difficulty was the end of the world. I used to think that people did things on purpose to upset me that the world was a difficult and stormy place.

That was until my baby died. That was the worst day of my life. Now each challenge I face is like a little step closer to where I want to be. Each hurdle I face is like a little drop in ocean, each twist and turn adds a story to tell my grandkids.  

If you are struggling to make sense of the world, search for someone who is worse off than you and just sit and watch and see how quickly it all jumps back into perspective.

NEXT WEEK – Positive living is all about dealing with STRESS…. that blooming horrible condition that blights us all at some point in our lives…

Time to start looking out of the window

It was early in the morning and I found myself moving the furniture around in the living room. I huffed and I puffed, as I fought to move the stuff. This is a job that I don’t usually like to do because it’s just a pain in the neck. But this morning was different.

This was the second move around of the day because I had also done the bedroom. The bed was in a different place and little G was now placed safely in her own little space.

It was time for a change and I wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from. I’d had a boost of energy this morning that told me, “Just get cracking”!

For some time I have been receiving messages that things weren’t all rosy in the garden. My health had been a bit up and down, my energy wasn’t flowing quite right and I was saying “yes” to things when I really meant “no”.

From the tests that I have had in life I know when things are good and I know when things are bad. I know when it’s right and I know when it’s wrong.

When things are great, things flow with ease. When things are bad, the channels are blocked and life is hard. Your brain works overtime and it’s just flipping boring……

I am a very ambitious person. I know what I want and I know where I am going. I live with heart and I live with passion. My vision is clear and the targets are set.

Lately I realised however that I had been spending more time looking behind me than I had in front of me. I was wobbling and I didn’t like it. It’s was making me unhappy, fed up and downbeat

Then I realised what the move was all about. For the last few months things had been placed to look at the wall. As I placed them neatly in their new homes the view became clearer. They now look at over the horizon.

Because what I realised in my heart was that I had spent the last few months looking at the walls but now it was time to start looking out of the window again.

Expand your view today because you never know what you will find…

www.jocameron.co.uk

 The agony in my belly told me that something wasn’t right. I knew from the dates that my period was due. It was a message to say that once again I wasn’t pregnant.

Today was my first day back at work and I couldn’t face it. I screwed myself up into a ball and sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. The pain in my stomach matched the ache in my heart. For months I had been hoping, praying and looking for signs that this was the month. Once again, nothing, no baby, no joy and no hope.  Another month of trying was all that we could wish for.   

I couldn’t do it anymore. If a baby wasn’t meant to be, then a baby wasn’t meant to be. I’d hit the lowest point. Today I had given up. I lay in bed and cried for hours. Crying for the loss of something that had never been. My heart was breaking, aching and empty.

The science had told me that a baby was unlikely but I had refused to believe it. I thought I knew best because my heart was telling me to carry on. But enough was enough. It was never going to happen. That’s it, game over, no baby, no rejoice.

I had tried everything. I had given up the odd glass of red, I was taking vitamins and minerals, I’d spent a small fortune on acupuncture and hypnotherapy. I was fit and healthy but nothing was working. Nothing. A life without children is what we faced. Today I was grieving and planning a different route. The world is unfair but I had accepted that this was not our lot.

That day was a year ago today.

Tomorrow I wake to a new dawn. I wake with vigour, with energy and with passion. What a difference a year makes. Tomorrow, like every day I wake with a tiny baby sleeping by my side. What I thought I was an impossibility has become a new reality.

What a difference a year makes…………

As I look back and reflect, I realise that I had been trying too hard. I had wanted it too much and was forcing it before it was due. “It will happen when the time is right” people used to tell me but I didn’t believe them. Every month I hoped that this would be the month, but every month I sank. In my heart I knew we would get there but my head was telling me a different story.

Two weeks after the day I cried in my bed, we conceived.

If something you wanted last year hasn’t showed up yet, never give up hope, never give up trying, never lose the faith and keep it locked in your heart.

An old Roman saying sums it up so well

While there’s life, there’s hope!

Happy New Year to you and I trust that it brings you want you want – Jo Cameron

The sound of crying rings out once more. Dad has just taken Georgia out for a long walk but as soon as the door is open the crying starts again. Of course she wants her mum. It’s time for a feed. Dad can’t do breast feeding, that’s a job only mum can do. “I can’t do this over and over again” the chatterbox in my head teases me. My breasts are sore and I’m tired. I have just had a nice rest for an hour but it never seems enough. Life is never the same again once a baby arrives.

She is only 17 days old and I’m not quite sure where those days have gone. It is easier than it was then. We look at photos of when we first bought her home and it was fraught and clumsy. I was struggling after a c section and couldn’t move about. Sleeping was a nightmare as I set the alarm for every twenty minutes to check she was OK. Changing her was problematic and it was all very tense.

17 days on the challenges are different. My body is changing and my brain is playing catch up. I can walk properly for the first time in months, I can breathe because my lungs have room to inhale and I can eat what I want because the gestational diabetes isn’t there anymore. I can sleep on my back and I can wash my feet. All changes for the better. Then why does my brain keep telling me I can’t cope. I run a business, I negotiate deals, I manage staff, I speak in front of hundreds and do live TV then why do I feel like I can cope with a 17 day old baby?

Tomorrow I have a morning with her on my own again and I am wondering how to cope. What if she cries constantly, what if she won’t settle, what if I don’t get time to shower, what if I hate it??!!!?!?! How can I be scared of my own daughter!!

Yesterday I walked along the street in tears and on the phone to my friend, sobbing and panting wondering if I was normal. “I don’t think I can do it, my life is over, when will I ever manage to fit in my daily runs ever again, I don’t feel like a mum yet, sometimes I feel a million miles away, I just want to go and have a few glasses of red!!!.” She reassured my everything I was feeling was normal and I cried until we started to laugh.

I know what I’m feeling is normal because I’m in transition. I’m changing, emerging and must go with it. The fear that I feel is normal and natural. The anxiety I feel is stretch and growth. The feeling I can’t cope is because I am treading into the dark, into a land unknown, that of babydom. A land where I have never been before.

When I let myself go it feels new and exciting, fresh and alive. Challenging and testing and always something new to learn. Each new day brings something different to learn, each day brings something that I didn’t know about myself.

In a few days time the chatter will ease, each day it will get less, each day it will get quieter until one day I wake and its gone altogether.

Tomorrow is a new day and I will do one hour at a time, one small step until the day is done. Each day I do brings me closer to becoming a mum without even thinking about it. A mum on auto pilot is where I want to be, natural and easy and going with the flow.

Surviving the first two weeks of Motherhood

As I sat on the settee feeding and consoling my unpredictable newborn, tears rolled down my face. I was crying because she was crying. I didn’t know what to do and it broke my heart. Baby Georgia had been crying most of the morning so my plans to do a bit on the computer were rapidly falling apart.

For the last three hours she just wouldn’t settle. It was my first day on my own. Dad had an important meeting in London so it was all down to me today.  If I fed her she cried, if I put her down she cried. If I walked around the room she cried and if I did nothing she cried.

Day 2 on my own I had to do something differently.  

Puffing and panting, sweating and close to tears once again I carried on pushing despite the urge to stop and turn around. I was only going to the post office with my baby in the push chair, but I felt like I was climbing Kilimanjaro!

This was my first trip out on my own. I am not able to drive as I recover from a Caesarean Section so walking is my only option. BUT walking seems to work and it clears my head and what a beautiful late October day it was too.

I have survived my first two weeks of being a mum! Time for a breather and look at how far I have travelled. Every new day or every new event brings a flutter of the heart. As we change her she screams and we wonder what’s wrong. As we bath her we are scared to death that her face is too close to the water. As we take her out for a walk I am concerned about the fumes. As we dress her we worry is she too hot or too cold. The little jumps that she does send us into a panic.

The first two weeks are fraught with angst as we wonder what to do!

As the nappy changes get quicker, as the sleeping gets better, as the feeding gets mastered I realise that every day gets a little bit easier. As my clothes get closer to fitting me once again and as my recovery from surgery speeds up, everything’s feeling a little brighter. We are adjusting to change and that’s how it is. Some days are great some days are hard.

In a few weeks time we will wonder what all the fuss was about as having a baby slips into second nature and life before G seems like little but a distant memory. As we adjust it gets easier, as we acclimatise it gets slicker, as the days pass us by it all seems a little better.

 As she drifts into sleep, we sit in peace and admire our little daughter. As we gaze at her fingers and her tiny little toes, we think of times gone by when the going was really tough. Three years ago when I was battered and bruised and reeling in pain we remind ourselves from pain there is joy and from dark there is light.

Welcome to our world baby Georgia xx

My heads in a spin and its buzzing like a bee. There is nothing in the diary as it’s been cleared just in case. I wake each day to think that today is the day. Each day I count the minutes, each minute I count the seconds. Sometimes I get a rumble in my tummy and I think that it’s all systems go. Sometimes I get other signs that tell me she is on her way. Each one is a false alarm that picks me up then drops me like a stone.  “I thought this was it” but then it all stops. I eagerly look for signs that things are moving but each one lets me down and I’m back on the blocks. Like a wave of hope each one crashes onto the beach.

Its like standing at the door waiting for an exam that never starts; like a horse in the traps waiting for the gun to sound but not knowing when. Like a runner on the line waiting for the start, like a car on the grid waiting for the flag that never drops. Like waiting for Father Christmas but not knowing when he’s coming. Its one step forward then three steps back. Its feet on the blocks then off once again once more.

It’s been a long and winding road to get to here, eight months 4 days. There have been diversions and detours, knockbacks and challenges.  There have been some peaks and there have been troughs. There have been some highs and there have been lows. There have been tears and there’s been laughter, there’s been fear and there’s been hope.  Up and down this pregnancy journey has taken me, like a roller coaster ride at brake neck speed. White-knuckle riding with baby in tow.

The first baby after loss is always a difficult journey. Each creak and grown stops you in your cracks, each kick from inside takes your breath away.  Each day brings new symptoms and each check brings more to think about. It’s like living on a knife edge. It’s like teetering on the edge of the cliff hoping that you won’t fall off.  It’s a constant battle between what you know to be true and what you fear for the worst. It’s your head and your heart wrestling it through.

With only three days to go, it feels like three years.  I do my best to pass the time but time stands still as the world spins around me. My life is on pause until my baby is born.

“Come on my darling I don’t want to wait anymore”

“You better come in” the nurse on the end of the phone said. I knew they would say that. With my past history I knew they would want to check me out.

I had been remembering a special little girl, my daughter Emmeline, who should have been three today. The emotion of the day was welling up and it had reached fever pitch. It had once again crept up on up me when I was least expecting it. It was sending my belly into spasm. The practise contractions were getting more intense and powerful. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps today was the day that my second daughter was going to be born. On her sister’s third birthday – that would be too much of a coincidence. Perhaps it was just another hurdle that I needed to climb, another milestone to survive or perhaps this was the real thing??

I had been to visit my first daughter’s grave earlier in the day. I had also bumped into some old faces which had stirred some emotion.

Bending down was difficult so I took a camping chair to sit on whilst I refreshed her little vases. With the vase between my legs I cut and prepared her yellow roses to place at her headstone. I chatted to her and brought her up to date with everything. I thanked her for looking out for us and for bringing us a new little baby who wriggled away in my tummy.  Emmeline will always be my first born and she will always have a special place in my life.

Later that evening as I my tummy cramped and took my breath away, it bought back painful memories. I lay in the hospital bed breathing through each cramp. I was only 34 weeks and it was too early. This time I wanted it to be oh so different.

As the medical staff filed in, one by one, with the familiar questions, I knew the drill. For weeks I had been in hospital with Emmeline and knew the process.

In my heart I knew she wasn’t coming. They thought differently. They offered me steroids to boost the baby’s lungs. I refused. They wanted to examine me. I refused.  Going by the book, it looked like baby was on the way but in my heart I knew the opposite. My intuition told me that it wasn’t time yet. This was a practise run. It was the emotion of the day that had stirred my unborn baby.

I was anxious and my legs shook with tension. Julian, my partner was pensive, focussed but trusting of my judgement.

We jointly decided to leave it for an hour to see what happened. The contractions calmed and the tension eroded. I was discharged the next day as everything subsided.

When Julian and I discussed it later on we realised something had to change. I knew I had to go into the next birth, cool, calm and collected. There were things that still lingered in my mind that needed dealing with.  Perhaps today was designed to teach me that.

Sometimes, although we think we know how to deal with things we need help from others. By asking ourselves the question “how do I deal with my fears”, throws up a range of solutions.

The answer for me was rescue remedy, lavender oil for Julian to massage my back, a dose of hypno-birthing and breathing exercises to practise before the birth. It also included getting the bag properly packed with everything that I will need for baby and I, almond oil, tea tree oil for afterwards and relaxing birthing music to breathe along to. The list went on.

To deal with a deep seated fear takes some effort and I wanted to do it all. It’s a mind and body approach of ‘massive action’. Its covering all bases, its leaving no stone unturned. Fear is lack of preparation but now I’m ready.

To keep abreast of whats going at www.womenontheirway.co.uk register for our newsettler

In theory I might have been but life doesn’t always work out like that. “I will be one day I said” and we smiled.

So why am I not? There are many reasons but mostly because I have always been rubbish at handling money. It went out as quick as it came in and my cash management was rubbish. When I thought about money it just bought me pain and the thought about talking about it sent shivers done my spine. When I bought new clothes I felt bad and when I bought things on credit I thought “oh so what, you only live once”. I wanted it but didn’t know how!

There were other things that strained my relationship with money. I hated paying in at the bank – I just saw it as an irritation. I hated raising invoices and I hated doing my expenses and vat returns. Quite frankly anything to do with money I hated! No wonder it never came in my direction.

I had many years of money blueprint to change. I had seen my mum and dad work five jobs between them just to keep water above their heads. Friday’s were the worst because they went debt collecting. They collected 50ps from people’s tellies with a truncheon in hand. They would return shivering and sweating from the fear of being mugged.

Summer holidays I dreaded because I went cleaning the local flats with my mum. Cleaning up the cat poo was the worst job in the world. There is nothing wrong with hard graft (I know because I do it) it’s just that I want something different for our children. I want more time and I want more freedom. I want a release from the powerful hold that money had always had on me and my parents.

From my grandparents I picked up that “money was the route of all evil” and from the people around me I learned lending and overdrafts were normal.

“Spend, spend spend”, “live for today”, “it’s only money and who cares” I thought.

It was a Thursday morning when I sat on the bed with my head in my hands, crying and sobbing as my world crashed in. All my bad money habits had collided at once. It was dark Thursday. I had reached the bottom once again and I knew things had got to change.  

When I chatted to many others I knew, they had suffered the same problems too. They worked too hard for very little return. They spent too much and saved too little. They lay awake at night under the creaking weight of their debts. They earned a lot but it went straight out. They settled for less when they knew they wanted more.

It’s for all these reasons why we put together our conference on 27^th November simply entitled Women and Money because many women are BAD BAD BAD with money! This is because we’ve never had it and now we have got it we don’t know what to do with it.

On the 27^th we all learn new lessons. We learn from the experts, our role models and inspirers. They started like you and I, from the kitchen table or bedroom. They have made it with money and have a lot to tell.

We do hope to see you there to change your bad money habits because I know that as women and mothers (and fathers too) the only way to do more good in the world is to believe in our hearts that money is the route to all good and not to all evil.

To book a place http://www.womenontheirway.co.uk/aboutwom.htm

“I can make it,” I said. “It’s tight but I can make it”. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded uncertain “are you sure?” “Yes,” I said “I WILL make it”.

It was 1036 on a Sunday morning and BBC News 24 had just called to invite me live on air at 1125. Harriet Harman had written a piece about men in politics and they wanted me to comment on it. Its right up my street and I didn’t want to pass on the opportunity but time was against me. It’s at least a  40 minute drive to the studio in Birmingham so I had no time to hang around.

I wasn’t showered or dressed yet as I had been catching up on my paperwork and BBC Five live had woken me at 0730 to give an interview at 0840 so I had been preparing for that too.

That meant I had around five minutes to turn myself into a presentable TV contributor!! My favourite dress wasn’t even dry properly and certainly wasn’t ironed but this was needs must so a quick cat lick and some mousse in my wet hair would have to do.

I called a few people to tell them what was happening and off I rushed into the car.

Into the studio I rushed at 1026 as my ear piece was thrust into my ear. The voice in my ear from London said “Jo we are coming to you shortly”. Ideally I would have liked to get my breath back but I didn’t even have time for that. I articulated through the questions from the faceless interviewer at the other end (all I have is a camera to stare into) as if I had all the time in the world. I’d have time to catch my breath once the interview had finished.

It’s a great honour and privilege to be asked to contribute on TV about my specialist subject and as I thanked the team for rushing me in I was proud of how I held it all together.

Next up was Radio WM just down the stairs. I did a lively interview with Adrian Goldberger then set on my way home again.

How quickly things can change ………

It was whilst I was sitting down with my partner and having dinner outside in the late evening sun that I felt compelled to write. Having just awoken from my hypnotherapy my blood sugar had dipped. Low blood sugar is not good when you are pregnant, it doesn’t empower the mind. It’s like starvation of the good thinking juices and its not good news.  My body tells me it wants to eat by flooding my body with anxiety chemicals. Anxiety leads to overthink as I contemplate the jiggling movement going on inside my belly. She is 30 weeks old this week and we creep ever closer to meeting our baby daughter. I’m overthinking the impending few weeks, “will it, wont it, might it, what if this, what if that”. I know I’m doing it and because I’m well practised I know how to stop.

There are many techniques that I use to stop any overthinking and today its writing. This time I’m writing to you. I’m writing to say that all of us are human. We can be strong in front of cameras one minute then shaking in our shoes the next. It’s all part of growth and emotional feelings, both of which are normal.

The tricks of the mind are the amazing things we can learn. As the laptop holds my hand and guides my fingers to type, each letter takes a worry away, each sentence calms me down. It takes away a little cloud and replaces it with joy. A problem shared is a problem halved and the keyboard acts as an eager ear. In my book, Turnaroudability, I have dedicated a whole section to the benefits of writing so I know that it works.

As I near the end, I would like to thank you for letting me write to you. I’m back on top of my game and my overthinking has stopped. Letting it out is better than keeping it in and now I feel much better. To you I owe the deepest of gratitude for helping me through today.

We don’t need to struggle on alone in disquiet, let your fingers do the worrying so you don’t have to.

To find out more about how to stop your overthinking book on our seminar at http://womenontheirway.co.uk/booktickets.htm