Our garden is chock-full of weeds, nettles, dandelions and numerous other green plants that I don’t want there and seem to be prolific. We have grass that seems to grow more happily in the veg and flower beds than on the lawn and carrots that are fighting for breathe around the weeds that are hiding their leaves.

Some of the weeds are useful and some are even beautiful but many are just in getting in the way of our vegetables and flowers and taking over the beds!

Last winter we put cow muck on most of the beds and then covered them in black plastic, this really helps with the weeds issue, but we didn’t get round to doing it with every bed. The difference is stark and the uncovered beds now look more like a wildlife garden than a potential home for my potatoes.

We are trying to keep the garden child and dog safe, and we want our vegetables to grow without chemical residue in the soil and so harsh weed killers are not an option. We have put straw around the strawberries which should help to keep the weeds at bay, and we’re planning on getting bark chips for the flower beds. The berries are peaking their way through the holes we cut in the black plastic, with the hope of depriving the weeds of sunlight. There are still nettles and thistles that have found their way through, but many less than otherwise would have done.

The paths have weeds that grow between the paving slabs, or in between the stones. Every time I go outside, I spot weeds. It’s like dust in the house, it just keeps growing. This is definitely not a tidy National Trust Garden, but maybe I’m setting my sights a bit high!

Our greenhouse has weeds in the borders where the tomatoes are growing. Unfortunately I have a tendency to look at the work still to do, rather on the work we’ve achieved, which leaves me feeling inadequate and somewhat aware of my weaknesses. I really need to accept the weeds and just do my best, I could also do with encouraging the children to help a bit more.

On the plus side, our garden is a haven for wildlife and the bees are having a wonderful time! Even if we find a way to keep on top of the weeds, we plan on always having a wildlife area, which we will leave well alone for the birds and bees to enjoy.

At the moment my yearly dose of Hayfever is putting my gardening on hold and so I am mostly only going out in the cool of the evening. This pause has given me time to reflect on the weeds and how they might relate to the sins in our lives.

The Parable of the Sower has helped me to understand how the ‘weeds’ of sin and worry can hamper my Christian growth, and prevent me from fully revealing the beauty of God in my life. It got me thinking, what are these ‘weeds’, that prevent me from growing fully as a Christian? Each person will have different areas of their life that need to change in order to give God’s Word the maximum space to grow. How can we make our lives more fertile soil to grow God’s Word in our hearts? I think it has to start with prayer, allowing God to convict us of the sins which hold us back from growing fully and then asking for his help to overcome those sins.

We really need to ‘weed’ our lives regularly, just like the flower beds, in order for our lives to truly reflect God in our lives. As I pick my weeds this week, I will be praying for him to help me with my weaknesses.

I love how God speaks through nature. I am beginning to understand a little more why so many of Jesus’ parables were centred around nature. Does God’s creation help you to understand more about Him and to draw closer to Him?

Wow! It’s been a very busy week and thus my lack of posting.

The builders have arrived 😀. Cue noise and chaos!

Last week we managed to get a lot of the seedlings in the ground and so our vegetable garden is looking more like a real veg garden, although the weeds are still threatening to take over!

The next challenge is getting used to going to the garden for our food, rather than the fridge. The lettuces, spinach and herbs are all ready to eat and so we are making the effort to remember to go out and pick the leaves for meals. Spinach isn’t overly popular with some of the children, but hidden in a fruit smoothie they gobble it up, well the younger children do, the older ones are not fooled!

Last weekend we had such a lovely time, we had friends to visit, who stayed in the courtyard, in their camper van. We ate barbecues and sat outside in the evenings sipping wine. With the wisteria growing up the barn walls, the camper van in the courtyard and the balmy evenings, there was a definite French holiday feel about the weekend.

Monday soon came round and I took the children to a gymnastics session. It was a free family fun day and so the whole tribe, minus Christopher, who was working, came along. Jonathan was having a blast and throwing himself (literally) into the activities. Sadly he rather overdid it and threw himself into a springboard and broke 3 toes! Bless him, he’s been very stoical and cheerful throughout, despite it being extremely painful. One of the challenges of living in the country is that it takes 30 minutes to get to the hospital, instead of the 5 minutes it took, when we lived in the town. He’s getting very good at hopping and is not nearly good enough at sitting still, will he ever learn?!

Tuesday was a very different sort of day. A dear friend has recently passed away and so I returned to London for her funeral. It’s the first time I’ve been back down south since we moved here, nearly 2 years ago. The day was full of emotions. I arrived for lunch and enjoyed catching up with a few old friends, what a joy it was to see them! The funeral was the first I’d ever been to that I could actually say had joy woven throughout. Our dear friend loved the Lord with all her heart and walked in faith, service and humility and so we were all full of joy, knowing that she is now resting in the arms of her Saviour. She will be missed hugely, but there was more of a thankfulness for the time God had given us with her, than a sadness of the future without her. We were all privileged to know her.

The journey home was a trip down memory lane, the M25 did its best to remind me of one of the reasons why I love living in the sticks. By the time I’d arrived at Oxford services I was pooped and needed to pause, to gather myself. I’m clearly not very good anymore at handling London traffic, I’ve got used to only being delayed by cows crossing the road and slow tractors 😊.

Yesterday we visited the local lake and made the most of the glorious sunshine. The children swam and built sandcastles, it was the perfect antidote to the M25.

Our garden is full of weeds at the moment. White fluffy dandelion clocks fill the fields around us, so the fight to keep the grass green, rather than speckled yellow is a futile one. Last week I paid the children a penny per dandelion to pick them. This week I have decided to try a different tack, we are going to try and eat our weeds!

Dandelions are not our only challenge, nettles also grow here in abundance. The chickens and pigs eat most things, but not the nettles! Clumps of these stingers are dotted around the grounds, proudly declaring their ‘inedible by animals’ status.

I have been reading up about these 2 foraging delights, trying to find out more about what God has provided for us here on our land. I was delighted to read about their multiple health benefits, especially the immune boosting properties of dandelions.

The challenge now was how to convince the family to eat them. Our children vary in how fussy they are, from ‘brown food is preferrable’, to ‘don’t put it in the bin, I’ll eat it!’ I had no doubts that someone would eat what we make, but it would be great to convince them all.

I found a recipe for Dandelion flower cookies, https://www.splendidtable.org/story/2007/05/12/dandelion-flower-cookies and so we decided to have a go.

So what did everyone think? The younger children all gave them a thumbs up, and even came back for seconds. My sceptical older children were not keen and their reactions were not altogether polite!

I might make them again, but I think I might try dandelion petals in a muffin next time.

I was clearly on a roll and decided that next I had to try out a nettle recipe. With rubber gloves in hand we picked a few nettles and came in to prepare them. I found a recipe for nettle crisps, which sounded the most child friendly recipe I could think of. You basically wash them, coat them in oil, sprinkle on salt and bake for 20 minutes at 150 c.

I enthusiastically pulled my crispy looking leaves out of the oven and presented them to my less enthusiastic looking family. I tried them, to show them how delicious they were, and I really did like them, but the children were not convinced. Not one of them liked them 🙁. They said they were furry in your mouth and some simply said they were gross! I happily finished the lot. I definitely didn’t feel stung by them, although my mouth did feel a little tingly afterwards, I’m not entirely sure that was supposed to happen?

We had a lovely time foraging, but I think our children need to stop being so picky if we are going to enjoy God’s free bounty growing here. I think I might need to go back to the drawing board for my next foraging outing. Any suggestions?

Yesterday Phil and Jonathan collected a lathe from a friend at church. Jonathan had been looking to buy one, to add to his workshop, but he had closely missed out on one on eBay and so we continued to pray for one. Then our friend discovered Jonathan wanted one and he happily sold us his, as he had hardly used it.

Immediately upon its arrival, Jonathan set to work. He had decided to, rather ambitiously, make a bowl, as his first project. He worked yesterday evening and all afternoon today and this evening his hard work was complete and he ran in beaming with his finished product.

As he described the process of creating it, the inspiration for my blog post came to me. You see, the bowl was originally one of the branches off our tree. We recently had a tree surgeon over to remove some of the lower branches, so that we had space for our extension, which will start in a couple of weeks. The tree surgeon left many pieces of wood for Jonathan, to make wooden items with, as well as piles of logs for us to season, to use in our log burner.

Seeing the bowl reminded me of the Bible verse, ‘For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.’ Ephesians 2:10. This bowl was Jonathan’s ‘masterpiece’, but it reminded me of God creating us as his masterpiece. Jonathan took a dead piece of wood and started to work on it, he had to take off the rough exterior, to reveal the beautiful wood underneath. When we first come to Christ there begins a process of removing our ‘rough exterior’, our old way of living. He also showed me the heart of the wood in the dip of the bowl. This struck me as a reminder that God has put his heart in each of us, but we need shaping to reveal the beauty of God’s heart in us.

The wood contained some beautiful knots, which Jonathan had to work on more carefully than the rest of the bowl. Each knot was delicate and required care and attention to bring out their beauty without damaging them. How many ‘knots’ do we have in our lives? ‘Knots’ made from our challenges, our pain, our suffering. These ‘knots’ are worked on by God, our Master Craftsman. He treats us so gently when we have a ‘knot’ in our lives and yet he uses each ‘knot’ to make us more beautiful, more Christlike. Each bowl made from wood is unique, some with more knots than others, but all beautiful. We too are made into something beautiful when we give our lives into the hands of the Master Craftsman.

Finally, I placed the fruit in the bowl and God used this to give me one last reminder. His work in us is for a purpose, we are created to do ‘good things’. A bowl is not much use unless you put something in it and we too are created for God’s purposes. The fruit was also a helpful picture of the Holy Spirit working in us. It is the fruit of the Spirit in us which enables us to do the good work God has given us to do.

Isn’t it amazing how God takes someone who was once dead (in his/her sins) and by putting his heart in them and by the fruit of his Holy Spirit, he creates someone beautiful and reveals to them their created purpose.

‘God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.’ Ephesians 4-5

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After glorious sunshine this lunchtime, this afternoon brought several hours of terrestrial rain and hail. Our drainage system struggled to hold onto the water and the courtyard became increasingly flooded.

At 7pm Phil came in from an evening work meeting. I had hoped for a pair of hands cleaning up the kitchen, but a rather larger problem was needing his attention outside. As he’d left the office in the hayloft, he had been greeted by a newly forming lake in our courtyard. He immediately donned his wellies, waterproof gloves and heavy duty gloves and grabbing the extendable plunger went forth in battle against the elements.

He quickly realised that he would need to get his whole arm down the drain. He found a wire crate to settle upon, to prevent his entire body getting soaked and equally from preventing any excess water from finding its way to the drain. He soon discovered that this particular drain was not the only problem and thus sought out the source of the blockage. After gazing down our septic tank and 2 other drains, he discovered where the blockage appeared to be. Then came out his trusty extendable plunger, which he worked with for over an hour, to finally release the water which was backing up quite significantly.

This is not an uncommon type of task around this place. With bigger properties you get bigger problems! Old houses, animals and barns bring along many caretaker jobs. I always feel blessed to have a handy husband who is not afraid to get dirty.

Once the job was done he came in for a much needed shower and we had a slightly later than planned ‘at home date night’, with garlic chicken and sweet potato fries, yum!

What’s my day been like? Much less messy, and actually quite productive. I recently realised that my children did not know all the Ten Commandments, and I thought it was one of those things I should have taught them. So I came up with a plan to help them remember.

First we listened to this song https://youtu.be/OSXviJco41k over and over, whilst dancing away, in a slightly Greek wedding way! Once we had the song firmly stuck in our heads, Elizabeth found some pictures on the internet for us to colour, cut out and rearrange in the right order.

Once they had the Commandments memorised they had 1 Haribo and after cutting and sticking they got another 2. We will continue to practice them for the rest of the week and keep singing the song. Tonight I will go to sleep with the song dancing round my head, I wonder what my dreams will entail?!

This summer we will have been married 20 years. That feels a pretty significant milestone and one which has given me cause to reflect on all that makes our marriage such a happy one. I am convinced that grace is key to our joy filled marriage and helps us to see the best in one another.

Let me share with you a couple of examples from our marriage of when grace has been shown to one another, instead of grumbling and complaining.

I am not in any way shape or form an early bird. Mornings for me start reluctantly, and are best started late, or at the very least, slowly. Conversations with me before 8am are likely to be short, incoherent and not always filled with grace! Phil on the other hand is great in a morning, jolly and fully functional upon waking. I always admire his ability to move, when my body feels immobilised by the call of sleep and a warm snuggly duvet. Now the grace part, in this scenario, comes entirely from Phil. He knows the challenges I have with early starts and he graciously leaves me to slumber, often giving the other early risers some breakfast, to buy me a few more minutes rest. Every day I am grateful for this gift.

For over a decade, in the early days of parenting, I woke early with little ones, who seemed to believe that sleep was for the weak, whilst Phil left early to commute up to London. Those were often challenging days, and there were not a few tears shed on days when I just felt so tired due to waking at 5 am with a newborn, only to get them back to sleep just before the toddler woke for the day.

Thankfully Phil has been working from home for about 7 years and is invariably the first one up each day. He is so gracious though, because he never complains, he just happily accepts that I am a happier wife if I wake up later. If he were to hassle me to get up, I would reluctantly move, but he loves me too much to ask that of me, unless there is a particular reason.

In turn I offer Phil grace in the evenings. By six o’clock Phil’s patience is dwindling and I know he will need a break, especially as the noise level in our house crescendos somewhere around teatime. Rather than asking him to push on through, I try and take some of the pressure off, by taking on the bulk of the bedtime routine.

I’m no saint though, and I don’t always feel gracious because irritation and impatience are part of our humanity, but by looking to God instead of at the situation, he pours his love and grace into me and enables me to be kind instead of sharp.

Grace is an everyday feature in our busy lives and gives us the ability to see the situation from a different angle. For example, each day I stack the dishwasher and then Phil comes in and looks at my deeply flawed stacked dishwasher, he often graciously walks away, closing his eyes to my absolute failings in terms of fitting in the maximum number of items in the most appropriate places! Sometimes he just can’t resist restacking it though. I watch as the dishwasher, which I stacked in a hurry, but to the best of my ability, with Katie trying to get in the dishwasher and sit on the dishwasher door, is unloaded and then reloaded with meticulous precision. My pride at that point can feel wounded, because I tried and he is undoing all my work, or I can show grace and thank Phil for helping me to clean up the kitchen. My prideful response would begin to build a wall between us but my gracious response would build a bridge.

Grace starts with prayer. First we accept our need of grace from God. It is his grace, his free gift of eternal life, for us who are lost, broken and undeserving, which enables us to be gracious to those around us.

What do you think makes a happy marriage? I’d love to hear your responses in the comments.

We never imagined we would ever be parents of nine children. We thought maybe two or three, but God touched our hearts and asked us to trust him. Here is a little glimpse into how the last 18 years has looked.

After I wrote my post https://www.lifeinallitsfullness.blog/blog/other/what-mothers-day-means-to-me/ about losing my mum when I was 14, my friend asked me how I had managed to continue to be faithful to God in the face of such a loss? How do I reconcile faith in a loving God and suffering? I promised her I would write up my answer, but that, as it may benefit others, I would blog my answer.

I need to unravel a bit to help to explain my answer. As a 12 year old, with a mum recently diagnosed with cancer, I vividly recall sitting in school assembly as prayers were being said. I specifically chose not to partake in those prayers because I felt it would be hypocritical, as I had no belief in God. I believed in caring for the earth, for caring for animals and other people, I believed in caring for the created but not worshipping the one who created all these things. I had never understood that Jesus loved me and wanted to live in a relationship with me, despite going to Sunday school from time to time and singing occasionally in the church choir. Having a relationship is not just about knowing who someone is, but it is spending time with them and feeling their love for you and offering your love in return. I just hadn’t realised my need for that love yet.

For over 2 years I watched Mum slowly deteriorate from an active English teacher to a woman bound to her bed by the illness that consumed her. During this time our vicar would come along and pray with Mum. Did Mum have faith? I think so, but it was a quiet faith.

The day Mum passed I was on a school trip. I was off in Dovedale, climbing over the stepping stones, not realising that I was about to be stepping into a new and painful season of life. When I returned to school, our vicar was there to collect me, along with my sister. She broke the news, that Mum had passed a couple of hours before. I laughed. I felt so bad, not about Mum dying, but my inappropriate laughter. I didn’t understand my response and yet of course I was in shock, but a 14 year old is not equipped to understand the nuances of grief. I had laughed and I felt like a fraud, why couldn’t I cry like a normal person? I had no idea at the time, or for many years later, that grief doesn’t look like it does in films, grief is personal and there is no one right way to grieve.

We got home and the police were there because her death was unexpected (she was never officially terminal) and the house was full of family friends. There were many cups of coffee and tea to prepare and the fridge was lacking in milk. I saw my opportunity to do something, and as a ‘doer’ I jumped at the chance to cycle 3 miles to the nearest shop. I’d never done it before, but my new life of responsibility began at that moment.

Her funeral came and went, but still no tears fell. I stored them deep inside where they leaked out within a few months, in eating disorders. For 7 years I coped with the internal pain through using food as a means for comfort and a way of purging the pain inside. It was only when I met Phil that I finally I started to feel safe enough to let go. I recollect one weekend, at about 21, when I cried all weekend as I became aware of what I’d lost, finally my grieving had begun. I never cried with my family because they were each carrying their own grief and they didn’t need mine as well. I just got on with life, but underneath I was broken.

In the initial few months after Mum’s death I turned to boys for attention and discovered the short term satisfaction of teenage lusts and parties. It wasn’t long before I was heading for self destruction. On a school art trip to Paris, my teacher found me on the balcony, leaning over. I wasn’t trying to end it all, but I had no sense of self preservation, I was rapidly careering towards a very dark place.

Coming home I think I knew I was searching, but it took a conversation with my sister to show me the place I should be looking. One afternoon my sister, who is 6 years older than me, and I were discussing Mum’s death and she explained what had happened that day.

Mum was lying in bed, talking with our cleaning lady and told her that the room was getting lighter and there was someone coming to get her. I think our cleaner knew that the end was near and so she ran to get the vicar from 2 doors down and he sat with Mum until she passed away within the hour.

So someone came to get Mum? The room got lighter? Who and why? Questions raced round my head for some time as I dwelt on the situation that had unfolded that day. The answer came one day soon after, when my eyes fell upon a booklet that my sister had brought home from university. It explained that Jesus had died for my sins and that by believing in him I could have peace today and for eternity. As I read the words I knew I had the answer I had been searching for. At that moment I prayed to God, declaring my belief in Jesus as my Saviour and asking for forgiveness for all that I had done wrong. That was the end of one chapter and the beginning of a very beautiful story. It is a story of beauty from ashes, the story of my life, given to my Saviour and the wonderful way he has transformed every single part of it.

That was the end of my desperate searching for attention from boys. I remember saying to a boy I met at a party the following week, that I wouldn’t kiss him, as was expected, because I was a Christian now and I didn’t think that kissing random boys was appropriate for me now!

A few days later I popped round to see our vicar to ask him if I could be confirmed. He was rather surprised to see a teenager on his doorstep asking such a question, as he was a vicar of a small village church with no youth! This always reminds me that God doesn’t need great youth programmes, although these are important, to reach the hearts of young people, his Holy Spirit is more powerful than anything we can ever say or do.

Since then I’ve never looked back. I wobbled off the narrow path for a short while just before I met Phil, who was also wobbling a bit, but together we came back to our faith with renewed strength to follow Jesus.

So my answer to the question, how can a loving God take away the mother of a young teenage girl and leave her broken? God loves me and wants to spend eternity with me. He used an awful situation to draw me to him and away from a life headed towards self-destruction. Without my Mum’s death I might never have come to know Jesus, who has given me a life of joy, not always an easy life, but one in which I am secure in his love for me and full of his joy. My Mum’s death was a tragedy, but through it God has helped me to find life, life in all its fullness.

Our new addition arrived just over a week ago, to much excitement from us all, well nearly all, let me be honest, tractors aren’t really my thing! I’m not here to ruin Phil’s fun though, I truly understand his desire for our new red friend, I just don’t have any strong desires to get behind the wheel.

It’s a 1970s International 574. Now that means nothing to me, but apparently it might appeal to those who like really old tractors. I like to think of our new addition as vintage, it adds a certain amount of romanticism to my dream of farm life. For now Little Red is sitting in our courtyard waiting for a front loader to be fitted.

There are so many words that I use nowadays that never occurred in our pre smallholding vocabulary. Front loader, silage, portable milker, heat pump and plant room (for the ground source heating) are all up there on new terminology I have learnt this year.

It really has been an extraordinarily steep learning curve, and it keeps going! We certainly haven’t reached the top, as we have much more to undertake over the next year. We have lots of building work due to commence in June, a new bathroom to be fitted next week, loads more veg to plant out this year and try to keep alive and tonight Christopher asked me when we were planning on getting some lambs. Life round here is certainly never dull!

When my head stops spinning for a moment, and I reflect on what we are doing, I just stand amazed and thank God for all he has done. Phil had never milked a cow before last year, or driven a tractor, he’d never helped out an egg bound chicken or tried to work out when a pig was ready to be put with a boar for some ‘action’ (we’re hoping for piglets this year). I’d never planted much veg or taken care of chickens, or worked out what to do with parts of a pig I’d never seen in the supermarket!

We are loving the challenge and we are all learning as we go along. We are very thankful that God is by our side helping us at every turn. Nothing here is done without prayer and faith because without those two ingredients we would have a recipe for disaster. With God we can do all that he calls us to, if we call on him. And we really need his help, often hourly, as there is always a new challenge to face, and so we go to the One with all the answers and he grants us the wisdom to move forward.

Phil and I are also a team. We are completely different to one another. We have the same life goals, but totally different skills to bring those goals about. Without that team we couldn’t begin to do what we do here. We’ve learnt a lot about each other over the last couple of years, but most of all we’ve learnt to appreciate our differences. Marriage is Oneness and moving here has helped us to understand that more than ever.

This was supposed to be about tractors, but due to my lack of tractor knowledge it wafted into what I know best, God, marriage and teamwork. I guess we write about that which we understand. If you are really into tractors and want to know more about them, do leave a comment and I’ll get Phil to respond.

Blessings to you all

I’ve clocked up many hours of breastfeeding over the years. Each child has given me a story to share, some more eventful than others!

All the children have received breastmilk up to at least a year and some longer, Katie is currently holding on to be my latest weaned, at 2, before her all my babies have weaned by 18 months. I’ve let them take the lead to some extent, but breastfeeding is always a dance and sometimes I have chosen to move them along, listening to their cues and needs and also considering the needs of myself and the whole family. None of them have ever struggled to wean, I have done it slowly and the last feed to go has always been bedtime.

I have had my fair share of challenges from mastitis, oral thrush for the baby, 100% tongue tie, blocked ducts, nipple blisters which needed popping with a needle (ouch!), babies who latched on easily, some who took a while and one with an oral delay which meant eye watering feeds until their muscle development improved.

Katie presented me with one of my most challenging starts to breastfeeding. Many people think that by baby number nine breastfeeding will be a breeze. In reality each baby is an individual and comes with their own set of challenges. Katie was born with 100% tongue tie and was slow to gain weight. By two weeks she had just regained her birth weight, but by then she also had oral thrush, so we treated that, which took 3 weeks of trying a couple of treatments. All this time my nipples were very painful and I had already had mastitis twice. If I had been a first time mother I almost certainly would have given up, but knowing where we would hopefully get to in a few months, I persevered. She was starting to gain weight and so I was unsure whether or not to get her tongue tie clipped. Once the thrush had cleared up though and feeding still caused my toes to curl up and I started brewing once again with mastitis, I knew the only solution was to get her tongue tie clipped. The waiting time on the NHS was simply too long, by then she would have had to go onto bottles, but thankfully we found a private clinic which could do the procedure within the week. It was the best decision we could have made. I don’t think Katie initially agreed with me though, as it took her several hours to persuade her to feed again, but once she realised that the milk came more efficiently she was away!

I think one of the reasons I have fed Katie for a bit longer than the others has been to do with the rough start we had. So many tears were shed during those first few weeks and now I just delight in each feed we share. She mostly only feeds now a couple of times a day, and our days as a feeding team are nearly over. With this in mind I asked Phil to snap a couple of photos of Katie feeding, to remind me of these precious days.


Breastfeeding is such a gift,
As milk flows down my spirits lift.
As oxytocin starts to flow,
My stress and worries seem to go.

Don’t be deceived, I cannot lie,
Breastfeeding can make you cry.
With tongue tie, thrush and blisters sore,
My breasts have often felt quite raw.

Just hold on when the days are tough,
Times ahead won’t be so rough.
Days and weeks and months ahead,
I promise each feed you won’t dread.

The days are long, but months go fast,
Baby days can never last,
Keep on going, just one more feed,
Strength for today is all you need.

I’m with you as you fight on through,
With gritted teeth and nipples chewed.
I know your toes are curling up,
As your baby starts to sup.

If I could go back to the start,
And whisper words into my heart,
I’d tell me, “keep on going mum”,
You won’t regret this when you’re done.

Every feed helps make them strong,
When germs and illness come along,
You’re building up a life times health,
A gift to give beyond all wealth.