Author: Vicki Goldby

Hope in Suffering

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

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.

Little Red Tractor and Teamwork

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

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

Breastfeeding, The Good, the Bad and the Toe Curling!

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

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.


No longer do I need several cushions around me when I am feeding, but there certainly was once a time that feeding anywhere but my feeding chair was almost impossible.

THE GIFT OF BREASTFEEDING

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.

Wash Day Blues

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

So much washing! After grumbling to myself about the amount of washing and clothes in our home, I realised that before the Fall there were no clothes and therefore no washing! Wouldn’t that be bliss! Since we no longer live in Eden ‘pre Fall’ and we are not yet in Heaven, we live in this in between stage with all the mess that brings. Jesus is with us though, in our daily challenges, by His Holy Sprit, helping us, but the tasks of each day still remain. He uses these tasks to draw us to Him. Each job can be looked on as a burden or an offering. I find that by turning my thinking round each job takes on a new dimension. Are these tasks just tasks or can they be a route to developing a closer walk with God?

I believe that everything can draw us to God. As I put away clothes I can pray for the person whose clothes I am folding, as I prepare a meal I can thank God for the food and pray for the blessing of rich conversation around the meal table, as I wipe up the messes I can be thankful for a home where the messes are made and for each little one who is still learning how to be tidy.

I’m certainly still learning and I’m so grateful that God hasn’t given up on me, despite my messy nature! Maybe one day I’ll learn to be tidy, but until then I’ll try to give thanks for everything.

‘give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.’ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

WASH DAY BLUES

Every day’s wash day in this place,
If it were a contest, I’d have lost the race.
I turn my back, and the wash pile grows,
How it does it, nobody knows.

The mounting pile is becoming a habit,
It seems to breed much faster than rabbits,
It grows under the beds and on the floors,
Stuffed into cupboards behind the doors.

So I dwelt on the clothes in the wee small hours,
As my face looked grim and my temper sour,
Each pile of clothes had a story to share,
Of a Mum whose shoulders the weight couldn’t bear.

I thought, ‘this great pile, I can’t conquer it all,’
Then God spoke to my heart, told me of the Fall.
Now I know where it comes from, it’s because of the tree,
It was written in Scripture in Genesis 3.

In Luke 24 we see that reversed,
As Jesus has risen we’re not under the curse,
But until his return we need help with these tasks,
But he’ll carry and help us, we just need to ask.

    Why do I wear a Headcovering?

    Posted on by Vicki Goldby

    Since doing the TV programme ‘A Country Life for Half the Price’, many people have enquired as to why I wear a headscarf. I have been reticent about sharing my reasons, but prayerfully decided to be brave and share my testimony about it. I don’t ever want to appear legalistic or in anyway suggest others should follow suit, this is just my personal conviction.

    I wrote down the testimony for some friends in a prayer group a year after I started covering (I started wearing a headscarf in 2016) and I want to share it as I wrote it down then, because it is then a fresh testimony of God’s kindness.

    I have a testimony to share about fear, God’s protection and wifely submission. It is very personal and is not intended to be a rule for all, but God spoke to my heart and my obedience to him has resulted in multiple blessings.


    Thanks be to God for he has rescued me from two years of debilitating postnatal anxiety. I have been free for over a year now and he has transformed my daily life. A small step of obedience on my part has allowed God to do an extraordinary work in my life. God has led me to write this testimony and I hope it is an encouragement to you all that we have a God who can rescue us from our everyday trials.

    About four days after the birth of my sixth child I started to get the baby blues, but rather than crying constantly, fear gripped my stomach and I could not look at my daughter without thinking there was something wrong with her. Over the weeks this fear was added to by a fear that I might have cancer, first bowel cancer, which my mother died of, and secondly skin cancer, which two of my friends had had post birth. The fear got worse and worse, I could not be alone in a bathroom without looking in mirrors and seeing things other people wouldn’t notice, reading into every bodily ailment the most life threatening possibilities. My mother died at 47 and she had spent many years ignoring her symptoms and I lived in fear that my responsibility as a mother was to get every symptom checked in case I was not doing my bit, I wanted to stay alive to raise my children.

    During my next pregnancy I feared toxins, bleach fumes, eating the wrong foods, basically I felt so responsible for the life inside me that if I had not done everything right then it would be my fault if something went wrong. The worse point of this fear trap finally came one night when my husband was away on business, I was trapped, whatever I did had risks, I could not look at myself, I felt knots in my stomach all the time and I began to panic and I cried out to The Lord, SAVE ME, please deliver me from all my fears.

    As I waited on The Lord a picture came into my head of the Amish women and I pondered their perceived serenity, surely they would not be so self focused and fear driven? I am sure many are, but this was God’s way of teaching me. I felt led at that moment to cover my head as they do, why, I did not yet know, but in obedience I put on a headscarf and continued to pray. Within 24 hours my fears left and over a year later they have not returned, praise God for His mighty deliverance.

    Over the next few days I read my Bible trying to understand the importance of this symbol and God showed me many things. In Corinthians 11:10 Paul tells us that we ought to cover our heads because of the angels. I felt God telling me that this was the key for me, these angels were needed to protect me, to close the lions’ mouths shouting fears into my head. The symbol of blood around the doorway was used to tell the angel of death where to go and where to leave alone, I was being tormented and I needed protection, this head covering was my protection, it was the blood around the doorway of my mind. Samson was given his hair as his protection, Rahab had the red cord, and this was mine. Earthly symbols are important to God, baptism and communion as examples.

    About a week later the fear was still gone and I wondered if I was being silly, had I made this all up? I would never sustain headcovering if I wasn’t convinced it was God led. God convinced me by leading me to a verse in Hosea 8:12, ‘though I wrote for him ten thousand precepts of My law, they are regarded as a strange thing.’ I know we are no longer under the law, but this confirmed his desire for me to practice this, ‘strange thing.’

    So now, I wear a bandana and most people probably think it’s just a fashion acccesory, but God knows and the angels know that it is an outward symbol of my submission to my husband and therefore it is symbollic of God’s protection over me under the authority of my husband, who loves me and is far more rational about fears than I am. I spoke to my husband about this matter and he has really taken on his responsibility to protect me, particularly in the area of fear and worry. Now I will share with him my worry before it takes its grip on me and we pray about it together, I trust that this God’s way of protecting me.

    I am so thankful to God and although I am slightly nervous sharing this testimony, in obedience I share and I trust that God will use it for his purposes.

    I have felt extreme fear just once since I started covering. A few months after writing up my testimony I became very ill and while I was in hospital, suffering from quinsy, I was in ‘bed mode’ and I didn’t wear a headcovering. I really feel like it left me open to spiritual attack, especially as my husband wasn’t with me. The overwhelming fear I experienced there was so extreme it felt supernatural. I cannot rationally explain the extreme nature of the fear, yes I had unpleasant procedures, but I have birthed 7 children without pain relief, fear simply took over. I feel like the devil saw a window of opportunity and, like Job, God permitted the devil to do what he did. This has reminded me again, that for me, headcovering is God’s will for me. I know of course that God allowed this for my good and maybe to help me understand his will for me.


    Through all this, God has taught me so much about fear. It is the Devil’s way of preventing us carrying out the will of God. I pray I will never be captive to fear again and that, as God’s people, we will not be controlled by the Devil, through fear.


    This is an update 6 years on.
    I still wear a headcovering and I am convinced that it is the Lord’s will for me. My fears have never returned, if I slightly fear now I take it to my husband and we pray together and through prayer God delivers me, it no longer grips me. It has also given me opportunities to evangelise, as people ask me about it. The greatest benefit that I did not anticipate is the way in which it has transformed our marriage. We have always been close, but we now experience a oneness in our spirit which we never did before. My husband’s faith has grown immensely and I have seen him step more into the role of the family’s leader in the area of our faith. He knows I respect him and my headcovering is a daily reminder of this. He knows I need him and this makes him feel valued in our marriage.

    One other thing I could never have imagined six years ago was that we would do a TV programme. The most asked questions have always been about our faith, and yet it was only briefly mentioned 3 times in the whole programme. I did wear my headcovering though throughout. It is an outward symbol of our faith and although most Christian women don’t wear one, maybe God wanted to make our faith really visible! It certainly caused waves when one newspaper interviewing us following the programme asked me to remove it for a photo, because they didn’t want people to think we had moved for ‘religious reasons’! I explained that I wouldn’t take it off as it would be disingenuous and that the people reading the article would then watch the programme and think it very strange that I was uncovered in the photograph. Anyway, they clearly thought it symbolised my faith. Just to think that six years ago God had all this planned out, isn’t he so amazing!

    I hope this helps to explain my reasons for headcovering. Please feel free to ask any questions or leave any comments. If you feel led to, please do share the post with friends or on social media. Let’s tell the world what an awesome God we serve! May God bless each and everyone of you.

    Learning to grow vegetables

    Posted on by Vicki Goldby
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    This year we are working in earnest to establish a hearty vegetable garden. Last year was our first year here and although we had a good first harvest, we were never going to sustain ourselves on the amount we grew. For example, we grew 40 corn on the cobs, but that lasted us 4 meals! We had orchards fruits, leeks, carrots, peas, courgettes and lots of tomatoes. I must also make mention of the few radishes we grew. I was heartily disappointed when I pulled up my first radish, somehow I imagined they would come up as a bunch! I now feel incredibly stupid admitting this, but really that is how ignorant we were when we started this. So if we can grow food, anyone can! This year we are endeavouring to go up a gear.

    We see complete self sufficiency as a far off potential, not a near reality. We are currently about 30% self sufficient, due, in the most part, to our 10 litres of milk a day from the cow, 40 eggs a week from the chickens and a regular supply of pork, bacon, gammon and sausages from the pigs. Next on the list is veg.

    Late last Spring Phil, Jonathan and Christopher borrowed a digger from a neighbour(in exchange for a pork joint), and created 14 new veg beds.

    Over the winter we weeded the beds, put rotted cow manure on them and covered them in sheeting, hoping they would be ready for planting out in May, once the risk of frost is gone. We managed to grow lots of chard throughout the winter, in the greenhouse, and our cabbages got a head start in the cold frame.

    Once March arrived we got going on sowing the seeds. We’ve has a go at pumpkin, sweetcorn, sprouts, carrots, squash, onions, peas, mange tout, peppers, chillies, tomatoes, spinach, lettuce, leeks and purple sprouting. So far we have a lot of seedlings but have also had some hard lessons learnt.

    After diligently caring for our baby tomato plants for about 6 weeks, we were thrilled to watch them develop their true leaves and I was very excited to think we were ahead of the game and might get an early crop. Then disaster struck. I cannot say for sure what happened, maybe slugs, but one morning I went out to greet my baby plants and I discovered, much to my distress, that my tomatoes were no more! All the leaves had gone, every last one with true leaves on. The tiniest S seedlings had been totally ignored. I genuinely felt sad for a little while, but then quickly decided on plan B. I brought into our bedroom all the tomato plants that were still growing and put them on a bin liner and then a towel, on my window ledge.

    I’m actually really enjoying having them inside as we can watch their progress more diligently. Every evening the children and I marvel at their daily progress as new leaves form, and hope once again is renewed, that tomatoes might well come this side of summer.

    The other plants are thriving and only require watering once every day or two.

    The next step is to plan where to put everything. I tend to be very haphazard, partly by personality and partly because I’m very busy and often multitasking; this means that I have basically just planted seeds and waited to see what would grow, before deciding where to put them. Thankfully I have an organised friend who is helping me to measure and plan where to plant everything, as that is certainly not my strength.

    We’ll see what happens over the next few months, we’ll water them and do our best, but I’ll say and prayer and trust God to do the rest.

     

    Easter Day, singing in the church garden

    Posted on by Vicki Goldby
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    What a day to celebrate! Jesus is risen! We celebrated this joyful day in the best possible way. After many months of at home services, with Jonathan on piano, Madeleine on the power point and Phil leading the service and doing the sermon, today we went back to our local church.

    Although our church has been open for many months we have preferred, because of the masks and no singing rules, to worship at home. Today though our church opened up the back garden and we all sang together mask free, what a joy!

    As I walked through the alley way to church, I felt that familiar comfort return and a deep peace descended on me. A whole year without church and yet God has carried us. Our faith has grown, as we have pushed our roots deep, searching for the water of life. It has been an extraordinary year, a year filled for many with emotional pain, but in that pain we have met with Jesus. When so many of the treasures of this world that we once held dear, have been removed, we have discovered that nothing really matters except Christ.

    We returned to church today reminded that nothing can separate from the love of God, and certainly not a pandemic or a lockdown.

    We sang with all our hearts. With the social distancing I could still hear my voice quite loudly, as it wasn’t drowned out by others near by! I must confess that I don’t sing well, it’s just not my gift, but God doesn’t mind that and so I just go for it, much to the embarrassment of my teenagers!

    What’s it like going back to church after a year away, having been every Sunday for nearly 30 years? It’s like a hot bath after a long and tiring walk, a feast after a famine, a hug after being alone, it felt like home. Home for us pilgrims is Heaven but for those moments when we worship here on earth, the angels join in, and we are witnessing a small glimpse of the joy of our eternal home. One day we will worship God in Heaven, and I will sing in tune and not embarrass my teenagers! Until that day God has given us our church families to be his body here on earth.

    When that body is separated it hurts each part, but it has not been broken; for it is not knit together by any thread of human love, but it is bound by God, for we are his body. Today that body was once again released to praise his glorious name, with freedom we lifted our voices in thanksgiving. What a gift for Easter Sunday! Thank you Jesus for your love, for your sacrifice and for today giving us the sunshine to enable us to praise you together.

    Happy Easter to you all. May our Heavenly Father fill you with his joy and peace.

    Losing the Baby weight

    Posted on by Vicki Goldby

    A friend recently asked me how I lost my baby weight. It got me thinking that I should do a blog on it, as maybe someone else was also curious. I don’t want to seem like I have all the answers, I certainly don’t. This is just my story.

    Most people assume that the baby weight just falls off me. That isn’t really true though, so I’d like to share how I really lost my baby weight each time, which has been an average of 3 stone per baby. I want to write it down so that I don’t forget what it was really like, and maybe it will help or encourage someone else who’s battling the post baby belly.

    When I am pregnant I gain weight really easily. Eating eases my morning sickness and gives me a bit of the energy I lack and I am always really hungry. I do choose healthy foods, but my body just holds onto every calorie I give it. It seems to thank me for the food and then store it on my thighs! I am so glad that we don’t weigh women in this country at their antenatal appointments, as I would find it a monthly humiliation process. I never keep within the boundaries recommended for weight gain, despite eating healthily. By the end of pregnancy I have normally gained about 3 to 3 1/2 stone.

    On the day I give birth I lose 10lbs. It is the only depressing part of that wonderful day. Seriously, how can I only lose 10lbs! I then realise that I have 2 and 1/2 stone to go. With each baby that weight has taken longer to come off. With baby one and two it came off by 7 months with almost no effort and I actually ended up losing more than I gained. Then baby three plus was where I discovered that my weight no longer just fell off and I started looking into what was delaying my weight loss and I started to see a correlation between my hormones and weight. It seemed that I could eat exactly what I did with my first two babies but I was getting different results. I was not just older this time, but I also weaned the babies later onto solids and took a more laid back, baby led weaning style approach. I have seen that as long as my babies are on just milk my body will not shed the last stone of weight. This does make sense from the perspective of protecting your baby’s milk supply by having a reserve of fat.

    The other challenge with losing the pounds has been age. Once I hit 40 losing weight seemed to get even harder. It took me over a year to shed the weight after having Katie. I don’t know how much of my weight loss is down to my effort and how much would be natural. All I can share is what I did.

    For the last 6 years I have largely given up sugar and white carbs. I started this out of a desire to get rid of persistent yeast infections, which plagued me after I had a lot of antibiotics for quinsy. Every time I indulge in these treats I get another yeast attack and so I have learnt that sugar free is the best way for me. I am not super strict about it, but I was stricter once Katie started weaning, to help me to get back into my old clothes and to help completely eradicate the pregnancy exacerbated yeast problem. I don’t ever aim to be super slim, I just want to be the shape I am designed to be when I am eating healthily.

    If it is of any interest for to you to know what I actually eat, then here is an average day. I generally have sugar free granola with coconut and homemade natural yoghurt for breakfast, vegetable soup for lunch with a couple of slices of this bread https://www.food.com/recipe/yeast-free-wholemeal-bread-56999. For dinner I eat quinoa instead of pasta or rice and sweet potatoes instead of potatoes. We normally then have protein and veg. I always eat until I’m full, or let’s be realistic, until a little one needs me and I get distracted! Phil and I eat in peace, as a date night, a couple of times a week, and then I always eat more because I am not busy. I also eat a square of 70% dark chocolate each day as a treat and one or two pieces of fruit.

    I used to be a real sugar addict and coming off it was hard, but after a few days the cravings went and I now don’t particularly like sweet foods, they just don’t give me that deep sigh of relief that they used to.

    My focus is not really on weight but health, which also includes exercise. I did do a Pilates class for several months after Katie to help with my core muscles. Now I just race around trying to keep up with the children, house, garden and animals! I very rarely weigh myself now that I am back to my old size.

    Over the years I have learnt to respect my body and feed it what it needs to work best. I also want to work with its rhythms and seasons, fighting it is rather pointless and in my experience leads to disappointment. If the weight won’t go, then maybe it shouldn’t go and so in that season I love my ‘love handles’, knowing they are helping to feed my baby!

    I think that for me, getting back into my old clothes is part of keeping my sense of Vicki as a woman, not just a mother. That part of me that still exists as an individual. I LOVE being a mum, but let’s face it, children take everything, your teenagers take your clothes, your little ones eat your food, they all take lots of time and energy, but one thing that’s mine is my body. I want to look after it as it’s the only one I get and it works hard. So I try to put the best fuel in and take care of it, knowing that my body is a gift from God to be cared for and offered in service to him.

    Katie’s Home Birth Story (Daddy Delivery!)

    Posted on by Vicki Goldby
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    Our beautiful Katie Joy turns 2 this week and I wanted to take this opportunity to remember her amazing birth and write it down so I never forget. We often tell the children their birth stories, particularly on their birthdays. It helps us to remember that every birth is a miracle, a gift from God and every child’s arrival has its own unique story.

    After nine babies I am very aware that birth is always unpredictable and many births don’t go as planned. Katie’s story certainly didn’t go as we had expected, but it was more beautiful than we could ever have hoped. Our account tells the story of her unintentionally unassisted, relaxed home birth.

    I tend to have about a month of pre labour. That means that for a month I look and feel like I could pop at any minute. During this pre labour month I will have contractions in the evenings. After the children are in bed my body relaxes and contractions will often start and can continue for a couple of hours before I go to bed, when they all stop. If I climb the stairs I can keep them going, but really they are just my body’s way of limbering up for the main event.

    So after my month of on off contractions I was all ready to give birth. We had planned to try and have another home birth. We have had 7 of our babies at home. Our first and fifth were born safely in hospital and were only born there as a precaution. I had discussed our options with a consultant and our midwife and we had concluded that a home birth would be best for me. We decided this because our eighth baby was born within 30 minutes of contractions starting and therefore we were unlikely to make it to hospital with number nine!

    A few days before her birth, I was fit to pop.

    Friday night I started my normal round of contractions, but these ones ramped up and we called out the midwife who found me puffing and panting on the bathroom floor. After hearing my hollering she quickly put together the gas and air and handed me the good stuff. Once the gas arrived my contractions seriously picked up and we were ready for a baby. After emptying one canister of gas my contractions slowed down and then stopped. After 4 hours of painful contractions I was ONE cm dilated and rather embarrassed! Surely after so many babies I would know the difference between false labour and real labour? Unfortunately my body does a good job of tricking me. My midwife kindly said that my body was ready but my baby wasn’t quite there yet. So I reluctantly gave up on giving birth at that point, the midwife went home and I went to sleep.

    Saturday, all was quiet. Sunday, all was quiet. I thought that maybe the baby had decided they just didn’t like the idea of birth and had got comfy again.

    Sunday evening Phil and I decided to have a date night, knowing that they wouldn’t happen again for a while. He made me a Thai curry and at 9pm I sat on my birthing ball and enjoyed a really relaxing meal. The lights were dimmed, classical music was playing and we were both feeling, how can I say this? Feeling amorous! Those hormones that had been created by the intimate evening were about to become very helpful.

    Around 9.40 I popped to the loo and then I had a big contraction at the bottom of the stairs. Phil was meanwhile trying to put ‘Call the Midwife’ on the TV. Elizabeth then came down and complained of a tummy ache, so we quickly packed her off to bed with an emergency sick bowl and some paracetamol. Praise God, all the other children were quiet, which is so unusual in our house before 10 in the evening. By the time Phil came back from attending to Elizabeth I had had another huge contraction, so I asked him to actually call the real midwife instead of watching it! By now it was 9.50. I knelt down by the sofa with my head on Phil’s lap, hoping to slow things down while we waited for the midwife. I should know by now that that was unlikely to work, as I had gone past the point of no return. One more contraction and my waters went. Phil exchanged his lap for a cushion and went round to the end where the action was kicking off. During each of these contractions I had not made any noise, which was very unusual for me. I knew the children would come downstairs if they heard any noise and the older boys room was next door to us downstairs. I focused on just riding the waves, breathing and praying. I was still really relaxed because the evening had been so peaceful and no one was disturbing the flow of my labour. I was doing everything my body instinctively told me to do and without inhibition I was following the path my body was taking me on.

    Phil quickly exchanged my wet skirt and leggings for the mats and towels which had been sitting in the lounge, waiting for this moment. With the next contraction the baby started to move down the birth canal and that inner roar (which would normally be shouted out) was used to power our new arrival into the world. Phil all the while was being a great support reminding me I was doing so well. He was the picture of calm and both of us were just focused on our tasks. Phil’s task was to catch and attempt to keep the carpet clean and mine was to push!

    Excuse me if I pause during this next contraction to describe something extraordinary that I always feel right around this moment. During this most intense moment of birth I always describe it as a ‘thin place’. ‘Thin places’ is a word often used about places where God has been worshipped for centuries, but my thin place always comes right around the moment of birth. I describe it that way because for a moment it feels like God is right there, a palpable sense of his presence. In my weakest moment I lean on nothing but him and he in turn carries me through every wave. My eyes close and my focus turns to God as through the shedding of blood and water I bring new life into the world.

    Birth is the most beautiful picture of God’s redemptive plan for us as sinners. Through his Son’s death, where Christ shed blood and water poured from his side, we receive new life. So too, in birth, do we shed blood and water and experience a glimpse of the pain of surrendering our own lives for another. In that pain though I turn my eyes to God and he replaces the pain with an intense peace and calm. The more I focus on him, the more the world seems to disappear and for a few moments I feel I am almost touching Heaven.

    Back to the birth….2 more contractions and at 10pm, our new baby arrived into Phil’s arms. He passed her to me between my legs and we checked to see whether God had blessed us with a boy or a girl. Another daughter lay before us, but she was very floppy and I began to worry and pray. We called 999 as she was hardly breathing. Had I thought about it, I would have worried less if I’d remembered that she was still attached to the cord and therefore getting oxygen through that. The person on the 999 call got us to flick her feet and rub her with a towel and she did take little breaths, but she was still not really responsive and normally my babies have all breathed immediately. I remember wondering for a moment if we would lose her and asking God if he would help her breathe. We continued to rub her though and keep her skin to skin and she gradually started breathing, praise God! The midwife arrived 8 minutes after she was born. She took one look at Katie and by then she was doing better and she took the phone and said, ‘Mum and baby are fine, you don’t need to send anyone here in big clod hoppin’ boots, we’ll be fine!’ After that she got me comfy on the sofa and we got Katie feeding.

    Katie, about 10 minutes post birth.
    Katie was our first ‘Daddy Delivery’

    Katie Joy’s birth was truly amazing. I believe I had not needed pain relief because a) my body had done most of the labour on the Friday night, b) I was in a state of deep relaxation as the children were quiet and a Phil and I were feeling closer than ever and c) God carried me through every wave. God helped me not to be afraid once during her birth and I’m sure fear causes a lot of birth pain because it makes us tense up. After she was born was quite nerve wracking for a few minutes, but I learnt that sometimes when babies are born so quickly they just need a few minutes to get going. I suppose I really knew this but I normally leave that bit in the midwife’s hands. This time it was down to us to decide if she was ok and so we reached out for a bit of support and we were very grateful to have some encouragement down the end of the phone.

    Our lovely midwife stayed with us for a couple of hours and then we were able to go to bed by about midnight. What a date night that was! One we’ll never forget.

    The next morning the children trickled down the stairs one by one and met their tiny baby sister. They’d all miraculously slept through the whole birth and were completely amazed that our home now suddenly had a newborn sister in it. They each held her and fell in love with her instantly.

    We are so grateful to God that she arrived safely. We called her Katie Joy, which means pure joy. She certainly lives up to her name and continues to bring huge amounts of joy to our home every day.

    Happy Birthday Katie Joy

     

    Embracing the Season

    Posted on by Vicki Goldby
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    Our dwarf daffodils heralding the start of Spring

    Winter’s always hard work. I love cosy evenings by the log burner, apple pies and hot chocolate, but I don’t love spending half an hour getting us all ready to go outside! Getting small children ready to face the winter cold is an uphill challenge. Somehow when it’s time to go out, at least one child has always lost either a boot, glove or hat. Since we now have a bigger house we have more places that these missing items might be. Every year I refine our systems for storing winter wear, but small children thwart every system with their busy minds which live in the moment, and they frequently forget to put things where they belong 🙂.

    With the lockdowns we have been so grateful to be here. Winter in Epsom, in our old house, would have driven us all crazy. It’s noisy enough here, but at least the children have plenty of space to play, even indoors.

    This week though, we have really started to feel that we have left the winter season behind. The days are longer and warmer and often coats have been unnecessary.

    With Spring now here (maybe not officially, but the flowers operate by a more natural calendar) we have been busy planting seeds and preparing the vegetable beds. This week we also had some fencing redone, with the hope of helping Sherlock to stay out of the vegetable garden! This weekend Mary and Martha our cows, will go out into the fields for the first time since Autumn. I’ll try and share a video very soon of their response to freedom! Our evenings have been easier too. We have even been able to go outside after tea and enjoy watching the sunset.

    I never tire of seeing God’s masterpiece painted across the sky each evening.
    Blossom is such a fleeting gift, but one I look forward to each year.

     

    The Garden Awakes

    Cherry blossom, Daffodils,
    snow drops, spring bulbs,
    Springing up, bringing colour,
    Cheering up the winter pallor.

    Growing grass, buds forming
    Trees reaching, branches yawning,
    Seedlings popping up their heads,
    Waking from their winter beds.

    Sunshine pushing through the clouds,
    As winter lifts its frozen shroud,
    Warmer days and longer evenings,
    Winter’s bite is quickly leaving.

    Coats forgotten, gloves are stored,
    Hats and scarves can be ignored,
    Just open doors and run outside,
    Embrace the seasons God provides.