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A sleeping bag is so much more than just warmth during sleep for your baby. It gives your little one a sense of security, provides safety, and helps your baby fall asleep more easily. In other words: a true must-have! But with so many different thicknesses, lengths, and materials available, you might not know where to start when shopping for the perfect sleeping bag. Jollein has been a baby sleeping bag specialist for nearly 50 years and is happy to help you find the right one for your little one. Want to know more about the different types of sleeping bags and which size is best for your baby? Then keep on reading! baby sleeping bags and TOG value The TOG value is a technical tool to help your baby sleep safely. It’s a point system that indicates the insulating quality of bedding. The lower the room temperature, the higher the TOG value can be. TOG stands for Thermal Overall Grade and tells you how well a sleeping bag or blanket retains body heat. Want to know more about TOG values? You can read all about them in our blog. muslin or jersey sleeping bag? These sleeping bags are perfect for summer use. With a low TOG value of 0.5, a muslin or jersey sleeping bag is ideal when the temperature is high. Jersey is stretchy and soft, while muslin is breathable and absorbs moisture easily. baby sleeping bag with detachable sleeves Sleeping bags with detachable sleeves are great for spring and autumn with a TOG value of 2.0. If you zip the sleeves back on, they’re perfect for winter too, with a TOG value of 3.0. These sleeping bags come in many cute prints and soft materials. Will you go for the Stargaze sleeping bag with detachable sleeves, or the one with the adorable teddy bear print? four-season baby sleeping bag Want to be prepared for the whole year at once? Then go for the four-season sleeping bag. It comes with an inner and an outer layer that you can easily zip apart to adapt the sleeping bag to the room temperature. Jollein’s four-season sleeping bags are available in trendy prints and colors, so all you have to do is pick your favorite. The TOG value of this sleeping bag ranges from 0.5 to 3.5, making it suitable for all seasons! newborn sleeping bags Newborn sleeping bags are made specifically for the tiniest babies. They create a snug and safe sleeping environment, eliminating the need for loose bedding. These sleeping bags can also be unzipped into separate layers and used year-round, with a TOG range from 0.5 to 3.5. With the unpredictable Dutch weather, the four-season newborn sleeping bag is ideal! Is your newborn especially active at night? Try the newborn cocoon sleeping bag. It gives your baby a secure and cozy feeling and limits excess movement. which size sleeping bag do i need? Now that you know all about the different types of sleeping bags, it’s important to pick the right size. Jollein offers four different sizes in its collection, so there’s a suitable sleeping bag for every baby and toddler. The newborn size is 60 cm and suitable for babies from 0–3 months. Then there’s the 70 cm size for 3–6 months, followed by the 90 cm sleeping bag for 6–18 months. The largest is 110 cm, which is suitable from 18 months until your little one no longer sleeps in a sleeping bag. These age ranges are just guidelines — always check your baby’s height when choosing a sleeping bag. It’s essential that your baby’s head or arms can’t slip through the openings. That’s why you shouldn’t size up too much. When in doubt, measure! Still unsure which sleeping bag or size is best for your baby after reading this blog? Contact our customer service — we’re happy to help!

Ghislaine (33) woont in Valkenburg aan de Geul en is moeder van, Nova (3). In deze blog vertelt ze haar eigen ervaringsverhaal. Ghislaine vertelt hoe ze zichzelf terugvond na een heftige start en hoe haar eigen ervaring en het falende moedergevoel, door ontbrekende informatie, ertoe geleid hebben dat ze slaapcoach is geworden. Slaap bij kindjes is een veelbesproken onderwerp. Negatieve en positieve berichten wisselen elkaar af. Ondertussen lijken slapeloze nachten en uitputtende dagen bij het moederschap inbegrepen. Is dat ook echt zo? Lees verder voor mijn ervaringsverhaal en hoe ik hierover denk. Ik wil dat jij je vooral niet schuldig voelt als je om hulp vraagt, op welk gebied dan ook! Donkere wolken Toen ik in 2019 moeder werd van ons dochtertje Nova, kleurde de roze wolk donker. Precies een week na mijn traumatische bevalling werd ik in het ziekenhuis opgenomen met hoge koorts, kraamvrouwenkoorts. Vijf lange dagen in het ziekenhuis volgden waarna ik met een flinke antibioticakuur naar huis mocht. Vervolgens werd ons dochtertje erg ziek toen ze precies drie maanden oud was. Ook voor haar volgde een ziekenhuisopname vanwege een urineweginfectie met nierbekkenontsteking. Eindelijk rust De eerste drie maanden voelde als een ware rollercoaster. Dankzij mijn geweldige verloskundige startte ik al snel met een traject (EMDR) om alles een plekje te kunnen geven. Voeg in de eerste maanden nog het slaapgebrek toe aan dit verhaal en je kunt je voorstellen dat het een ware uitdaging en zoektocht was om het leven weer onder controle te krijgen. Google en die andere mama’s Ondertussen wiegden wij ons dochtertje in slaap en had ik geen flauw idee hoe laat ze naar bed moest. Ik had destijds dekentjes, lakentjes, rompertjes en kleding in overvloed, maar op geen enkele checklist stonden (inbaker)slaapzakjes of white noise. Het begrip wakkertijd? Destijds nog nooit van gehoord! In mijn geval zijn er uren, dagen en zelfs weken verloren gegaan aan Google op zoek naar een voorbeeldritme. Op het einde van de dag wist ik door de hoeveelheid informatie nog steeds niet wat ik moest doen. Wat ik voornamelijk hoorde was: “mijn kindje slaapt al door”. Welk handboek hadden deze moeders ontvangen én welke instructie had ik gemist? Slaapinformatie Nu, drie jaar later, vraag ik mij nog altijd af waarom er zo weinig informatie verstrekt wordt over de slaapbasis van kindjes. Uit onderzoek bij Nederlandse baby’s van zes maanden ervaart één op de tien ouders het slapen van hun kindje als een probleem. Uit internationaal onderzoek blijkt zelfs dat slaapproblemen bij jonge kinderen voorkomen kunnen worden door de juiste voorlichting aan ouders te geven. Waarom moet iedere kersverse ouder het nog steeds zelf uitzoeken, slaap is toch immers een basisbehoefte? Missie Ondertussen hadden wij een flinke dip in het slaapgedrag van ons dochtertje, toen negen maanden oud. Per toeval ontdekte ik een slaapcoach op Instagram. Ik kende het hele begrip niet maar door haar ben ik een opleiding gaan volgen tot slaapcoach bij een internationaal erkende opleiding (Baby Sleep Consultant). Ondertussen sliep mijn dochtertje weer goed en had ik nog maar één doel! Mijn kennis omzetten in praktische en direct toepasbare tips, omdat ik andere ouders de struggle, de zoektocht en de onzekerheid wil besparen. Je kunt namelijk op een liefdevolle en ontspannen manier aan de slaapbasis van je kindje werken. Er is veel gratis informatie beschikbaar, ook voor jou! Slaaptips voor een krachtige slaapbasis Je kunt je kindje helpen door een simpele bedtijdroutine te hanteren voorafgaand aan een slaapmoment. Een bedtijdroutine met terugkerende handelingen zal een herkenbaar signaal zijn voor je kindje, de slaaptijd nadert. Daarnaast is een bedtijdroutine ook enorm belangrijk om je kindje tijd te geven om van drukke activiteiten (prikkels) over te schakelen naar de “slaapmodus”. Wat daarnaast kan helpen is het vervroegen van de bedtijd. Ik riep het eerste jaar: “breng haar maar later naar bed, dan slaapt ze ook langer”. Helaas, zo werkt het niet. Als je kindje té lang wakker is voelt dit niet meer comfortabel aan. Je kindje verlangt naar slaap, maar als er geen slaapmoment volgt, reageert het lichaam met een extra boost aan wakkerhormoon. Je kindje krijgt extra energie. Dit maakt het in slaap vallen en in slaap blijven nog moeilijker! Maak jij het kamertje van je kindje pikkedonker tijdens de slaapmomenten? Tussen de twee en drie maanden komt de productie van het eigen slaaphormoon op gang, melatonine. Donker stimuleert de aanmaak van het slaaphormoon. Als je kindje wakker is zorg je weer voor voldoende daglicht. Op deze manier hoef jij je geen zorgen te maken over een verschuiving van het dag- en nachtritme. Vraag hulp Ik kan nog uren doorgaan met het opsommen van slaaptips, maar grote kans dat jouw kindje nu net wakker wordt. Op Instagram en Facebook deel ik, samen met andere slaapcoaches niet alleen ontzettend veel praktische tips en adviezen die direct toepasbaar zijn, maar ook een wekelijkse Q&A waarin jij al je slaapvragen kunt stellen. Volg een slaapcoach (zoek een slaapcoach die bij jou past en kijk zeker naar de achtergrond/opleiding) en neem zo nu en dan een kijkje tussen alle tips. Je staat er niet alleen voor en hulp vragen is écht heel normaal en belangrijk! Wees lief voor jezelf Slaap als je kindje slaapt, parkeer je huishoudtaken en rust zelf ook uit. Wees lief voor jezelf en leg de lat niet te hoog. Vier ieder succes, al was het een dutje van 20 minuten. Ondertussen heb ik al meer dan 100 gezinnen aan meer slaap mogen helpen. Ik durf met zekerheid uit te spreken dat ieder kindje slaaptalent heeft. Sommige kindjes hebben nét iets meer ondersteuning nodig dan andere kindjes. Er komt een ochtend waarop je je realiseert dat je kindje doorgeslapen heeft. Heb jij het gevoel dat je niet meer kunt wachten op deze ochtend? Vraag dan direct hulp. Je faalt niet lieve mama. Als er meer openheid is over dit onderwerp kunnen we elkaar ook beter ondersteunen. Heb je behoefte aan meer praktische tips die direct toepasbaar zijn? Neem dan een kijkje op mijn Instagram.

Kyara (21) lives in Almere and is the mother of daughter Vajèn (4 months). She became a young mother and had her entire birth at home. Besides young motherhood, she studies full-time for a Bachelor’s degree in Nursing (HBO-Verpleegkunde) and also works. In this blog, Kyara shares her birth story and how she combines young motherhood with studying and working. Curious about Kyara’s story? Read on! Before I start telling, it’s helpful to know the situation we all live in:My boyfriend, our daughter Vajèn, and I live together with my mother, her boyfriend, and my two little brothers. Due to the dramatic housing market, we currently have no other option, and that’s totally fine. We all get along very well here, and everyone enjoys having the sweet little girl in our midst. Meanwhile, we’re saving up for our own home! But anyway: let’s get to the point! Water BreakingIt was Saturday, February 16, 2022, around nine o’clock in the evening, and I was 38 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I wanted to take a shower, so I went to the toilet and then upstairs. Once in the bedroom, I was chatting with my boyfriend when I suddenly felt something dripping down my leg. At first, I thought it was just some urine leakage because my baby was kicking hard against my bladder. I went to the bathroom upstairs just to check, and then… POP! My waters broke. After my mother checked to be sure it was really amniotic fluid, she called the midwife. The midwife arrived around 9:30 pm, confirmed the fluid, checked if our daughter had dropped, and then left. ContractionsThat same evening, there was a party with loud music in our courtyard. At midnight, the music finally got quieter, and we decided to try to sleep. Spoiler alert: I hardly got any sleep. About half an hour later, my contractions started. They were strong and constant right from the beginning. I got under the warm shower to handle the contractions, and my mother called the midwife again: we had to wait and see. I kept going between the shower and bed when I felt dizzy, completely focused on the contractions, and everyone else just did what they had to do: leave me alone as much as possible. Around 1 am, my mother called the midwife again to say the contractions had become even stronger and were still very constant. She came back around 1:30 am. I was still in the shower, concentrating hard on the contractions. The midwife stayed with us for quite a while and checked my dilation for the first time around 3 am—I was at 3 cm. An hour later, she checked again: 4 cm dilation. She told us that after reaching 4 cm, she would come back after about two hours. Contraction StormWhen the midwife left, I entered a contraction storm. One contraction after another with no break at all. But I absolutely didn’t want to go to the hospital, so I kept going. Around 5:45 am, she returned. We all expected I’d be at around 6 cm dilation, but no! I had gone from 4 to 9 cm in two hours! This news was a huge relief—it meant I was almost ready to start pushing! The BirthThe midwife quickly called the maternity nurse and prepared everything needed for the final stage. The sweet maternity nurse arrived just in time because my first pushing contraction started then. The first two or three pushing contractions felt strange—I barely felt anything was happening—but soon I could feel the head! My mother and boyfriend could peek now and then and saw she already had some hair on her little head (which didn’t feel like it at all, haha!). At 7:25 am, after just over 6 hours of dilation contractions and 40 minutes of pushing, she was finally here! Our beautiful little girl Vajèn Marley. Looking back, I truly had a dream birth—completely at home and with my own strength—though I couldn’t have done it without the most loving mother and boyfriend! Motherhood, Work, and StudyBy now, I’ve been going to school full-time for a few weeks and have also started working Fridays and Saturdays. I miss my little girl so much on those days! Together with my mother, after a long final internship day in a care home, I secretly took a pregnancy test in the bathroom on Monday, June 21, 2021. I think I’d never seen such a positive test in my life. My mother immediately said we should stay with her for a while, and we’re both very happy about that. It’s cozy living here, and I’m able to finish my studies. When my boyfriend works and I have school or work, my mother looks after Vajèn. If she has to work, my father (they are divorced) comes from his own house to help. Without all these loving people around us, I definitely would have had to quit my Nursing studies, and that would have been such a shame! I can also keep a job this way and earn extra income besides my boyfriend’s salary. That way, we can also save for our own home! We’re very blessed with such loving people around us, and I’m grateful every minute of the day. I also realize that everyone’s situation is different and not everyone is so lucky to have such people around, but remember one thing very well: You Got This! Everything will work out in the end. Much love,Kyara

In June, Lieke gave birth to her first child, a baby boy. But during her pregnancy, she couldn’t feel as happy and joyful as she had expected — overwhelming uncertainty and fear dominated her experience. Lieke felt lonely in her emotions during pregnancy. In this blog, she shares her story and hopes to break the feeling of loneliness for (expectant) mothers who experience the same. Most stories about pregnancy focus on how special it is to feel life growing inside you, how you radiate with joy, and how you feel like you can conquer the world. My experience was the complete opposite. Normally, I’m a confident young woman, but the moment I became pregnant, I became incredibly insecure, scared, and lonely in those feelings. Enjoying pregnancy? That didn’t happen for me. On the morning of October 1st, 2020, my partner and I stood in the bathroom together as I took a pregnancy test. The idea of having a baby had only come up a few months earlier, and the two previous attempts had been unsuccessful. We were both heavy smokers, so if the test was positive this time, it would be the perfect excuse to join "Stoptober" — the annual stop-smoking challenge — and use that as a cover for quitting. After I took the test, we waited for the result. Huh? Two lines? That means pregnant, right? We couldn’t believe our eyes. Still in disbelief and dazed by the result, I crawled back into bed. This can’t be real, can it? We agreed to quit smoking immediately, just in case the test was correct. My partner left for work, and I got ready for my own workday. Sitting in the car, the reality slowly started to sink in. The test was positive, and that’s hard to fake, but I didn’t want to get too excited — because if it really was true, so much could still go wrong. Subconsciously, I decided to protect myself from disappointment. The next day, I took another test because I still couldn’t believe I was actually pregnant. Again, it was positive. So, I called my doctor, assuming I’d need to bring in a urine sample so they could confirm the pregnancy themselves. But when I spoke to the assistant, she congratulated me immediately and advised me to register with a midwife practice, wishing me good luck with my pregnancy. Okay… time to adjust my expectations. Which practice should I call? After reading some reviews, I made my choice. The receptionist asked me some questions, estimated that I was four weeks pregnant, and scheduled the first ultrasound for when I would be eight weeks along. That meant four more weeks of waiting for someone to officially confirm I was really pregnant. Those four weeks felt like an eternity. Every time I went to the bathroom, I checked for bleeding. I was so afraid of miscarriage. I googled statistics on how many women miscarry — and the number was higher than I expected. Not helpful for my anxiety. And when I started to feel cramps in my lower abdomen, the panic really kicked in. We called the midwife to explain my symptoms. She reassured me that I was likely feeling implantation cramps, which is normal, and suggested using a hot water bottle to ease the discomfort. When the day of the ultrasound finally arrived, I was extremely nervous. I had secretly asked a few pregnant friends which midwife practice they used, and two of them went to the same one I had chosen. Naturally, I didn’t want to run into anyone I knew. Luckily, when we arrived, the waiting room was empty except for us — a relief. Soon, it was our turn, and I lay down for the scan. The midwife placed the device on my belly, and we could already see an oval shape. She immediately spotted a heartbeat. She also did an internal scan, where we could hear the heartbeat too. But I stayed guarded. I kept telling myself so much could still go wrong. After the successful first scan, we scheduled the next one and went home with good news. You might think: how lucky to see and hear that little heartbeat! And yes, I was grateful — but I still couldn’t feel happy. Fear of failure and disappointment dominated everything. Allowing myself to feel joy, knowing things could still go wrong? I couldn’t do that to myself. From that moment on, I lived from scan to scan. The next ultrasound was in three weeks, and if that one was good, we’d have the “green light” to share the big news with family and friends. Meanwhile, I kept checking for bleeding every time I used the bathroom. By the time of the second scan — the dating ultrasound — I was, once again, incredibly nervous. At the appointment, I lay down for the scan, and what a difference compared to the first one! Before, we saw a tiny oval blob; now it looked like a little human. BIZARRE! The midwife was cheerful and enthusiastic, as if she’d never seen something so beautiful. Everything looked perfect. We received our official due date and left with great news. They also asked if we wanted to do the NIPT test. Choosing whether or not to do the NIPT test was incredibly difficult. Of course, I wanted a healthy baby, but I didn’t want to be faced with making a decision about terminating the pregnancy if abnormalities were detected. My fear of failure and disappointment with this pregnancy played a huge role in that decision. Ultimately, I chose not to do the NIPT test. With the positive dating scan behind us, it was time to share the big news. The warm and happy reactions were overwhelming. Everyone said the same thing: ENJOY IT! Well… that’s exactly what I couldn’t do. I felt guilty that everything was going so well for us, yet I couldn’t feel happy. What did I have to complain about? I got pregnant quickly, no miscarriage, and everything looked fine. So why wasn’t I happy? A little voice in my head kept saying things could still go wrong — that my body wouldn’t be able to carry out this incredible task, that my body would fail me. So I lived from scan to scan, and I especially looked forward to the gender reveal ultrasound. Boy or girl — I didn’t care. I just wanted to know and, most importantly, to see our little human again, to check if everything was still okay inside. But two days before our gender ultrasound, the whole country went into lockdown due to rising COVID-19 cases. Only medically necessary scans were allowed — gender scans were considered “fun” and therefore non-essential. I was devastated. Tears streamed down my face. I had looked forward to this moment so much, and now it was taken from me. I felt defeated and robbed. My partner saw my emotions and wanted to do something for me. He searched for a practice still willing to perform the scan. After all, they were open — and who would check what kind of scan I was coming for? After some searching, he found a practice willing to make an exception. So we made the appointment. A bit later than planned, we were on our way to the scan. Naturally, I was nervous again. At the appointment, our little one wasn’t eager to reveal themselves, but after some effort, we finally saw it: a boy! One more hurdle remained — the 20-week anatomy scan. This detailed medical check could reveal whether the baby had severe abnormalities or was not viable at birth. We were warned that it would be a nerve-racking scan, with the technician only telling us the results at the end. Luckily, we had an incredibly kind woman who explained each step and immediately told us what she saw and whether it looked good. Everything looked perfect — nothing to worry about. After the positive 20-week scan, I finally started to relax. I could feel our baby moving more often, providing constant reassurance that everything was okay. Each movement filled me with warmth, and for the first time, I could actually enjoy something. Once I passed the 24-week mark — when a baby is considered viable in case of premature birth — I could breathe a sigh of relief, and time suddenly started to fly. I finally felt comfortable shopping for baby clothes, blankets, and other essentials. I had put it off, afraid that if something went wrong, I’d be left with painful reminders. At 27 weeks, I scheduled a 3D ultrasound. It cost a small fortune, but it was absolutely worth it. This scan wasn’t about measurements or growth. It was simply to look at our little miracle, to see his face and what he was doing in there. For the first time, I could enjoy a scan and see what I had been longing to see. I was determined to take maternity leave four weeks before my due date. I wanted as much time with my baby as possible. Now I understand why four weeks is the maximum — that last week was exhausting, and I work in an office job! Like most pregnant women, I was done by the final weeks. At 38 weeks, I could barely sleep. I was completely drained. There I was again, sitting at the midwife’s office with tears in my eyes — I had had enough. She understood but reminded me that it could still be another four weeks, so I had to hang in there. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. A few days later, the early contractions began, and at exactly 39 weeks, after a short and smooth delivery, our perfectly healthy son was born. What a hell of a ride this pregnancy was — but I did it! I hope we can break the taboo together. Pregnancy and motherhood can be hard or challenging, and that’s completely okay! Usually, only the positive sides are shared, which made me feel like my emotions weren’t valid. That made me feel lonely, even though I know many (expectant) mothers experience these feelings. I’ve never hidden how I felt during pregnancy. I wanted to break the loneliness by talking about it. Some people listened; most didn’t react much. Let’s make space for emotions — the good and especially the difficult ones. Life isn’t always perfect, and that’s what makes us human — and mothers.

Laura (28) woont samen met haar man Tommy, zoontje Teun en hondje Sep in het huis aan het water in het Noord-Hollandse Avenhorn. Laura is juf en mama van 6 maanden oud zoontje, Teun. Daarnaast is ze ook blogger van eerlijke mama verhalen, want hoe fijn is het om ook eens te lezen dat het ergens anders ook niet altijd lukt, dat je met je handen in je haren zit of stiekem doet alsof je hem niet hoort als hij om 05.00 uur denkt dat de ochtend begonnen is. In deze blog vertelt Laura haar eerlijke verhaal over de kraamperiode en de kraamtranen die daarbij kwamen kijken.Donderdagochtend 29 juli. Met Teun op schoot, word ik, gehuld in oversized ondergoed, met maandverband zo dik als een volgepoepte luier, het ziekenhuis uitgereden. Moe, trots, voldaan en gelukkig kijk ik naar mijn mannetje die in de Maxi-Cosi op schoot ligt. Ogen gesloten, rimpels in zijn gezicht, aangekleed in zijn met zorg uitgekozen geboortepakje. Hij is er. Eindelijk!Een uur later zit ik vol adrenaline met een glimlach op mijn gezicht op de bank om de kraamhulp welkom te heten. Ongemakkelijk ook, want de hechtingen van onder trekken en mijn buik voelt alsof ik minstens twee weken zware buikgriep heb gehad. Opgewekt kijk ik toe hoe ze bij Teun kijkt en meteen weet hoe ze hem moest vasthouden, hoe ze hem kan sussen en verschoont ze zonder blikken of blozen zijn luier. Ik voel een onrust bij mezelf. Ik moet dit ook kunnen, ik ben zijn moeder. Ik moet begrijpen wat hij nodig heeft, waarom hij huilt. Ik sta op, voel me verplicht om in mijn huis te vragen of iemand iets wil drinken.De dagen die volgen zet ik steeds een glimlach op als iemand vraagt hoe het gaat, negeer ik mijn drukkende, dikke kraamverband en zet ik mijn kiezen op elkaar als ik moet plassen. Ik ontvang alle kraamvisite en zit iedere ochtend netjes om 9 uur beneden als de kraamhulp aankomt. Ook bij haar geef ik aan dat het goed gaat. Dat ik pijn heb, maar dat dat vast normaal is. Zonder mokken luister ik naar de uitleg over verschonen, het wegen van Teun en onderga ik de dagelijkse onderzoeken van de nacontrole.Ik voel me slap, moe, kan nauwelijks op mijn benen staan en mijn tepels voelen uitgeleefd van alle keren borstvoeding. Maar ik hou me groot. Teun is geboren en ik moet gelukkig zijn, daarvan genieten en dankbaar zijn.De vierde dag zit erop. De kraamhulp trekt de voordeur achter haar dicht. Teun stopt niet met huilen en ik weet niet meer wat hij nodig heeft. Terwijl hij op het verschoningskussen voorzien wordt van een schone luier stort ik in. De pijn van de hechtingen is intens en ik ben op. Ik probeer mij groot te houden, wil mij niet laten kennen, ik moet er voor Teun zijn. Ik moet net als andere moeders op die roze wolk zitten.Alsof het afgesproken is, komt op dat moment mijn vader langsgefietst. Hij stopt even en zwaait vrolijk naar binnen. Het lukt mij te glimlachen als een boer met kiespijn. Ik zwaai terug. Hij steekt zijn duim op als vraag hoe het gaat. Een druppel, ik kan niet meer, alles doet pijn en ik kan het pasgeboren huiltje niet meer horen. Zonder mij nog in te kunnen houden barst ik in huilen uit.De dagen die volgen zien er hetzelfde uit. Weer om 9 uur beneden en ik blijf doen alsof het goed gaat. Bij iedere nieuwe uitleg aan Tommy, ga ik er, steunend op de kast, naast staan. Ik moet het ook weten. Fysiek gaat het niet zo lekker. Mijn baarmoeder zakt niet en de hechtingen blijken niet goed gepakt te hebben. Ze worden eruit geknipt en een open wond blijft over. Ik probeer het positief te blijven zien. Maar iedere dag rond een uur of 4, zodra de kraamhulp langs het raam naar huis fietst, stort ik in.Het schuldgevoel groeit. Waarom kan ik niet van ieder moment genieten? Waarom moet ik niet huilen van geluk, maar huilen van wanhoop? Waarom heb ik mij afgevraagd of ik dit wel wil, of ik dit wel kan. En waarom heb ik tegenover mezelf uitgesproken dat we te vroeg zijn begonnen met kinderen. Kraamtranen zijn toch tranen van geluk? Urenlang kunnen kijken naar je baby en zo intens gelukkig zijn dat je moet huilen van vreugde. Tranen omdat hij een schattig brabbelend geluidje maakt en huilen omdat je voor de zoveelste keer een onwijs lieve tekst leest in een kaartje. Geen tranen, omdat je het niet meer ziet zitten.Op de laatste dag van de kraamweek komt de verloskundige langs. Ze vraagt hoe het gaat en of we het een beetje redden. Dit is het eerste moment dat ik, naast de ouders, aangeef dat het niet zo goed gaat. Ik hoor dat dit erbij kan horen. Dat je ongelukkig kunt terugkijken op je bevallig, fysiek nog niet in orde bent en je hormonen alle kanten opvliegen. Dat ik mezelf goed in de gaten moet houden en dat als deze gevoelens blijven, ik professionele hulp kan zoeken als ik daarvoor open sta.De weken die volgen lijkt de grijze wolk in mijn hoofd op te lossen. Steeds vaker komen er lichtpuntjes naar voren. Ik begin mijn eigen positieve zelf, die oog heeft voor kleine bijzondere momenten, weer te herkennen. Ik geniet van Teun zijn brabbels, zijn lieve gezichtje tijdens het slapen en kan zelfs genieten van de zure poeplucht die uit zijn luier omhoogkomt.Die roze wolk.. Voor mij soms meer eentje met zware regen en af en toe een roze bliksemschicht.Laten we vooropstellen dat ik ook echt genoten en gelachen heb die eerste dagen. Toen Teun voor het eerst naar buiten mocht. Toen Teun zijn eerste plasje deed, recht over Tommy heen en toen hij voor het eerst in slaap viel in mijn armen. Kraamtranen zijn niet alleen van vreugde, maar ook van pure onmacht en frustratie. Je zit soms huilend op de bank als je terugdenkt aan die zware bevalling, of als je je kleintje staat te wiegen, omdat hij weer wakker werd toen je hem slapend weg probeerde te leggen. Als je weer een nacht 2 uur je ogen dicht hebt kunnen doen en dat niet eens aaneengesloten. Het mag er ook zijn.Wees lief voor jezelf en gun jezelf tijd. Je hoeft niet alles perfect te doen. Zelfs de kraamhulp heeft het moeten leren.Liefs van Laura Meer blogs van Laura over eerlijke mama verhalen lees je hier.Foto gemaakt door Elles Anne Fotografie

Tom is getrouwd met Sarah en is op 26 oktober voor het eerst vader geworden van dochter, Lía. Hij vertelt in deze blog over zijn ervaringen van de zwangerschap, de bevalling en de weken na de bevalling.Twaalf weken al, wat gaat de tijd snel! Op 26 oktober werd ik vader van een dochter die naar de naam Lía luistert. Het leven? Dat is anders, heel anders.. maar wel beter. Ja hoor, veel beter. Wat een avontuur!Sarah en ik fantaseerden al lang over een kleintje. We zijn “high school lovers” en ondertussen veertien jaar samen, waarvan drie gehuwd. Een kleine mini-me die ik stap voor stap zou begeleiden in het uitbouwen van haar leven, dat was de droom. Ik zeg ‘haar’, omdat ik dolgraag een dochter wilde.ZwangerschapHet beeld van een roze wolk verdween al snel, na tien weken zwangerschap kreeg Sarah last van bekkeninstabiliteit, iets wat haar tot op de dag van vandaag nog steeds parten speelt. Last werd al snel ‘extreme last’: zelfstandig draaien in bed of met de auto rijden was lange tijd niet meer mogelijk, wat resulteerde in veel stress en als ‘daddy-to-be’ ging ik toen al noodgedwongen op zoek naar een evenwicht tussen het werk en zorgen voor Sarah en onze ongeboren dochter. Het ergste als man tijdens een zwangerschap? Het machteloze gevoel dat ik kreeg bij het kijken naar mijn echtgenote in pijn. Ik ben iemand die altijd voor oplossingen probeert te zorgen, waarom kon ik dat nu dan niet?BevallingEen rollercoaster van emoties, dat is elke bevalling wel. Ik had al respect voor mijn vrouw, maar na negen loodzware maanden kan ik vandaag moeilijk in woorden uitdrukken hoe sterk het vrouwelijke geslacht écht is. Op 25 oktober trokken Sarah en ik in de avond naar buiten voor een wandeling. Een wandeling die ze moest doen om haar suikerwaarden laag te houden, want er werd ook zwangerschapsdiabetes vastgesteld. Heren, neem een vrouw haar lekker eten af en je hebt een probleem, maar ik daag jullie uit om een zwangere vrouw haar eten af te nemen. Good luck en doe je loopschoenen aan. Na honderd meter wandelen kreeg Sarah veel last van haar heupen, meer dan andere avonden. We keerden terug en besloten naar bed te gaan. Ze voelde de baby niet meer echt bewegen en we raakten wat ongerust. Sarah besloot om nog een keer naar het toilet te gaan en onderweg breekt haar vruchtwater. Dit is het dan, eindelijk. Haar vluchtkoffer stond klaar en een 45 minuten later stonden we in het ziekenhuis, om 23u40. En dan is er maar één gouden tip voor aanstaande vaders wanneer het gaat over de tijd tussen aankomst in het ziekenhuis en de geboorte: Niet veel praten (eigenlijk niet) en wees bereid om je hand gedurende vijf dagen niet meer te voelen van het knijpen. Lía werd geboren om 11u10.Na de bevallingJe wandelt het ziekenhuis binnen met twee en wandelt enkele dagen later terug naar buiten met drie, een bizar gevoel. Nooit was ik als chauffeur voorzichtiger dan de weg van het ziekenhuis naar onze woning. Werkelijk ie-de-reen leek een wegpiraat. De verantwoordelijkheid die je vanaf de geboorte draagt -en voelt- is enorm en het is niet allemaal rozengeur en maneschijn. We zijn nog steeds zoekende naar structuur en krijgen elke dag wel een ander vraagstuk voorgeschoteld waar we een oplossing voor moeten vinden. Spontaan thuis vertrekken heeft plaatsgemaakt voor een doordachte planning. Maar.. we durfden het ook aan om met Lía richting Parijs te trekken om het nieuwe jaar in te zetten, een topbeslissing van onzekere ouders, want we hebben ontzettend hard genoten. Ze begint steeds meer te lachen en geluidjes te maken en elke keer als ik naar haar kijk sta ik verstelt van de gevoelens die in een mensenlichaam zitten. Het leven is nu pas écht begonnen, wat ben ik een ontzettend trotse papa.TIPGun jezelf de tijd om te wennen aan het ouderschap. Het instinct zit er van nature in, je gaat heus wel slagen. Probeer daarnaast ook tijd te nemen om met je partner tot rust te komen, een kindje geniet wanneer zijn/haar ouders ook kunnen genieten (hoe moeilijk dat in het begin ook lijkt, er zijn altijd wel mini-mogelijkheden). En praktische parenting advice van iedereen die je tegen het lijf loopt? Daar luister je met een smile naar, maar nadien doe gewoon wat voor jullie goed aanvoelt. En als je baby wat melk teruggeeft of hij komt uit een badje dan zijn er gelukkig nog steeds de hydrofiele doeken van Jollein, Enjoy!

Ankie lives with her partner and is the mother of four children (aged 3, 7, 11, and 13). She has been a midwife in Assen for nearly 14 years, working at Aiber Midwives and Verloskundigen-Kloosterveen. In this blog, Ankie takes you through a typical day as a midwife. It’s Wednesday evening, and I have just taken over the shift from my colleague. For the next 48 hours, I am on call for all births and phone calls. When I wake up Thursday morning, I’m happy I managed to get a good night’s sleep. Full of energy, I start my visits. With the radio turned up to 10 and my singing voice only suitable for a private audience, I drive through my hometown of Assen. All new mothers receive a visit from us every other day during the first 8-10 days after birth. Sometimes it’s just a quick check-in to see how things are going, but usually, we chat a lot. We discuss the birth in detail and how the recovery is progressing. Because yes, recovery doesn’t always go smoothly. Feeding problems, painful engorged breasts, sensitive stitches, all while coping with a hefty dose of hormones. This is the average new mother... I start with Willemijn, who gave birth to her first child five days ago. Her delivery didn’t go quite as planned, but despite that, she looks back on it positively. The day before yesterday, my colleague visited her and she was glad it was all over and she could now enjoy her beautiful baby girl. Although breastfeeding was still a bit challenging, she visibly enjoyed her new role as a mother, fueled by the adrenaline that is present during the first 2-3 days after birth. I stand at the door, and as soon as I enter, I can see it’s not her day. She’s tired! It was another restless night and breastfeeding is still not going well. The little one isn’t latching properly yet, and in the first week, that often requires a lot of patience. Just as we both get a cup of tea from the maternity nurse, she bursts into tears. “How do people do this?” Willemijn asks. I comfort her by saying it’s a completely normal feeling, very common, and that a better night is definitely coming. As a mother of four, I completely understand her feelings. Whole days are spent feeding, comforting, changing diapers, and not forgetting to eat and drink yourself—and oh yes, sleeping whenever possible. It’s especially intense with the first child. Now that I have four children, I sometimes long for how it was with just one baby, but then I quickly remember that was actually the hardest. By the second, third, or fourth child, you usually know what to expect and tend to be more confident than with the first. We chat a while longer, and once the tears have dried and we’ve even shared a few laughs, I advise her on some breastfeeding tips and suggest she get some fresh air because the walls are closing in on her. Just a short walk outside—not too far—just to clear her head, and then some rest while the maternity nurse watches the baby. Relieved with a new plan for the next 24 hours, a big hug she desperately needed, and a caring maternity nurse, I continue with my visits. The great thing about postnatal visits is that, in most cases, there’s no time pressure like at the clinic. Unless there’s a birth in progress—in which case, I sometimes have to speed up my visits. Not exactly my best trait in this task. My husband calls it a tea party, but fortunately, we midwives know better. You are responsible for the health of mother and child. You want everything to go well during that first week. Usually, you provide lots of explanations and advice or offer a listening ear and sometimes a supportive arm... and yes, sometimes when everything goes really well, we do end up chatting quite a bit and it really feels like a tea party. So maybe my husband has a little bit of a point after all...

  One of the most exciting parts of being pregnant is decorating the baby’s room. Collecting the most beautiful items and products especially for that little miracle growing in your belly. Decorating the nursery is something you do with your heart—and your intuition! There are no strict rules, but we can imagine it’s nice to have some helpful guidelines. What should you pay attention to when decorating the nursery? Where do you start? We’re sharing the 5 most important tips with you! Tip 1: Get Inspired Take your time to gather enough inspiration. Think carefully about the kind of style you want in the nursery. Maybe you already have a few ideas in your head. These can be your starting point.You can find inspiration everywhere: online on Pinterest by searching for “baby room,” “baby styling,” or by looking on Instagram using hashtags like #nurserystyling, #babyroom, or #babystyling. Tip 2: Color Plan & Shopping Mood Board After gathering ideas, it’s fun to create a mood board with your favorite styles. It gives you a clear overview and is super handy when shopping online for nursery items. A key part of this mood board is your color plan! It’s even smart to start with this so you can build your choices around it. Look online for colors you love and keep them in mind while shopping. You could also visit a DIY store for color samples, but browsing for color inspiration online is a great alternative.Make sure to collect images that show an overall mood and tell a cohesive story. Do you want a bold room? Or something sweet, or maybe a timeless look? Think it through and make a clear choice—it will make decorating much easier! Tip 3: Create a Good Base A solid base in the nursery is key to styling the rest. Think about a good floor, a lovely wall color, and matching window coverings. Maybe you’d like to add wallpaper with a fun print that fits your theme. A good foundation is half the work! Tip 4: Layout & Furnishing Start by looking at the layout of the room. You’ll often need: a changing table, a cradle and/or cot, and a wardrobe or dresser. Decide what layout works best and how the furniture can shine in the space. Working with a small room? Choose furniture with extra storage space, like a drawer under the crib or wall shelves. Don’t be afraid to rearrange the furniture—go with what feels right! Tip 5: The Finishing Touch Once the basics are in place, it’s time to style the nursery! This is the most fun part and where you can add a personal touch. Use your mood board again. Think about your colors and theme. Styling basics for the baby room: Lighting Bedding for the cradle or cot Window coverings Changing pad + changing pad covers Canopy rod + canopy or mosquito net Wall cabinet or shelves Extra styling items: Muslin cloths (check out fun colors!) Cute cuddly toys A rug A mirror (makes the room feel bigger) Storage baskets Nice decorations Plants or dried flowers Also add some personal elements to the baby’s room. Think of the first ultrasound, a sweet card with a meaningful quote, or a pregnancy photo. These personal touches truly complete the space!

Tessa shares her first birth experience: her waters had broken, and labor had to be inducedTessa (27) became a mother for the first time on October 11 with the birth of her son, Sev. Tessa shares her experience of her first delivery. Her waters had ruptured, and her labor had to be induced. Whether I was dreading labor or afraid of the pain—those were questions I heard often during my pregnancy. But with a level-headed attitude, I’d simply respond: “Ah well, he has to come out one way or another, right?” I was exactly 39 weeks pregnant when, on Thursday evening while brushing my teeth, I felt something trickle down between my legs. It wasn’t much, but I immediately thought of my water breaking. I decided not to call the midwife right away, but to try and get a few more hours of sleep since I wasn’t feeling any contractions yet. After a very quiet night, I did end up visiting the midwife. She concluded that my womb was still full of amniotic fluid and couldn't confirm whether my water had really broken. So, back home to wait and see. But as the day went on, I started losing more fluid, and eventually I needed thick sanitary pads to keep up with the increasing amounts. Back to the midwife we went, and she scheduled us an appointment at the hospital for the next day. At the hospital, they were sure: my water had broken! Or more accurately, it had torn, since I was losing small amounts over time instead of one big gush. I spent one more night in my own bed, still hoping labor would start naturally. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, so on Sunday morning we had to return to the hospital so I could be induced. With prolonged ruptured membranes, there’s a higher risk of infection, so you need to give birth within 72 hours. Before they could induce labor, my cervix needed to be ripened, which they do by inserting a “string” containing hormones. This has to stay in for 12 hours and can help kickstart contractions. On Sunday night at 10:00 p.m., my boyfriend Michaël had to go home—if there are no signs of labor, partners aren’t allowed to stay overnight. But they promised to call as soon as anything started, so with his phone on high alert, I was left alone for the night. And sure enough, labor started during the night! Looking back, I already felt something just after Michaël left, but at the time I wasn’t sure what it was. Luckily, I had no roommate and could walk around freely. Lying down was impossible for me—every contraction had me leaping out of bed to move through the pain. That night is a bit of a blur in hindsight; I lost all sense of time because I was so focused on managing the pain on my own. I think I even got a bit of sleep as the contractions eased slightly. By 8:00 a.m., I managed to eat a small breakfast, and Michaël thankfully returned. At 11:00 a.m., the midwife came to check me. I wasn’t sure if the rough night had accomplished anything, since things felt pretty calm by morning. But luckily—3 cm dilated! We were allowed to go to the delivery room to "push things along" with labor-inducing medication. At first, I was still "cheerfully" bouncing through contractions on one of those birthing balls, but a few hours later, it wasn’t funny anymore. I was hit with intense back labor. After what felt like an eternity, I stepped into a hot shower. It felt dangerously hot, but the warmth was the only thing that somewhat eased the pain. The wonderful nurse even brought me a popsicle. So there I was—eating an ice-cold popsicle under a blazing hot shower, haha! After 1.5 hours, I had had enough and asked about pain relief options. We chose Remifentanil (a form of morphine), which comes with a button you can press to control the dosage. Between you and me… I really liked it! I felt a bit stoned but was finally able to relax a little between contractions. That relaxation helped my dilation progress, too—within an hour, I went from 5 cm to 10 cm. Time to push! At first, I didn’t really know what I was doing, which resulted in a bunch of burst blood vessels in my face. But thanks to the amazing guidance of my midwife, things quickly improved. I think I even yelled halfway through that they could just leave him in there, but after 45 minutes of pushing, our son Sev was born. The most special moment of our lives! You don’t forget the pain (as the cliché goes), but it’s so worth it, and that makes it more than bearable. Plus, the relief that it’s all over plays a big role too. Yes, giving birth is painful. But relatively speaking, it’s just a few hours out of your life—and the reward is the most beautiful one imaginable. So don’t dread it—you have this primal strength in you too! One final tip from me: During my labor, lots of photos and a few videos were taken. Of course, it’s a personal choice, but I’m really glad they were. I look back at them with pride and joy, and I’m grateful to have those visual memories.

Amy (32) is engaged to Dwight (37). They live in Lelystad, and Amy is the mother of two daughters: Loïs (2.5 years) and Ella (3 months). Amy works as a primary school teacher but is currently enjoying a few more weeks of maternity leave. Ella caught the RSV virus when she was just three weeks old. Our second pride, Ella, was born completely healthy at 41 weeks. From the very first minute, Loïs was an incredibly loving sister. She showered Ella with hugs and kisses. Loïs had already taught us how valuable and important a child is. I almost exploded with love for my two girls. Loïs goes to daycare every Wednesday with great enthusiasm. Two weeks after Ella was born, Loïs came home from daycare with a runny nose. At that moment, my overprotective motherly instincts kicked in because I wanted to protect my newborn from any harm. But we soon realized it’s impossible to keep a two-year-old away from her newborn sister, whom she adores so much. We did try to limit the kisses and hugs. On Saturday night, Ella started feeding poorly, and I noticed she was breathing more heavily. She also coughed occasionally but fortunately didn’t have a fever. I immediately searched online to see what it could be and quickly came across articles about the RSV virus. The next morning, a good friend came to visit. She works as a doctor's assistant and heard Ella coughing. She told me that she recognized the sound from babies who had come to her clinic and had caught the RSV virus. I felt uneasy, and that same Sunday afternoon, I called the midwife. She advised me to call the out-of-hours GP service immediately. There, Ella showed her coughing, but we were sent home with the message that there was nothing concerning in her lungs. I was partly relieved by this message, but I wasn’t reassured because I could see that Ella was not herself. The next day, Ella’s feeding got worse and worse. She was also almost impossible to wake up. I expressed my worries to Dwight for the umpteenth time, but he was fed up with my concerns, holding on to the doctor’s words at the GP service. The next morning, Ella developed rapid breathing with chest retractions and flaring nostrils. I contacted the GP, and since these were corona symptoms, I was only allowed to come at the end of the day during the corona consultation hours. My mother came over to check on us, and I burst into tears. You feel so powerless. I wanted to protect Ella so badly, and it felt like I was failing. She was still so small. Ella’s face started to look gray, and my mother decided I shouldn’t wait and needed to call again. Luckily, I was immediately allowed to visit the GP, while my mother stayed home with Loïs. The GP only needed to listen briefly to Ella and suspected the RSV virus, saying we had to go straight to the emergency department at Almere hospital. On the way, I called Dwight, who was attending a course elsewhere in the country, to tell him Ella wasn’t doing well and that he needed to come to the hospital. Once at the hospital, Ella was put on a monitor. Her oxygen levels were low, and they attached various sensors to her. A mother’s heart breaks seeing her tiny baby like this, but I knew she was now in good hands. I was so relieved we were finally taken seriously. We were moved to a room in the pediatric ward. An hour later, the test results came back: Ella had caught the RSV virus. I was angry and sad at the same time. If only I had listened more to my mother’s instinct and hadn’t been sent away from the GP service. At that moment, there was no time to be angry because I wanted to be there for my little girl and fight this terrible virus with her. Amid loud screaming, a feeding tube was inserted into Ella. She was also given oxygen and a suppository every few hours. Saline drops were put in her nose, along with xylometazoline drops. The plan was to let Ella drink by herself as much as possible and give the rest through the feeding tube to ensure she got enough nutrition to get stronger. After each feeding, she stopped after just 10 cc. She simply couldn’t continue because she was so breathless and didn’t have the strength to drink on her own. Every now and then, she had severe coughing fits. The only thing I could do was hold her upright during those episodes. During such fits, I often pressed the alarm button because it was so intense I feared she wouldn’t recover. The monitor kept beeping during these episodes because her heart rate went above 200 for a long time. I saw so much fear and panic in Ella’s eyes — it was horrible. Unfortunately, the nurses couldn’t do much at those moments other than keep her upright. It was terrible to see Ella like that. After a coughing fit that often lasted fifteen minutes, she would collapse like a rag doll into my arms and fall asleep. She was exhausted and so weak. I cried a lot; I wished I could take it all from her. Days went by, and Ella’s condition didn’t improve much, but thankfully it didn’t get worse either. Dwight came by whenever he could. He also took Loïs with him sometimes, who missed her sister and mother terribly. She knew Ella was sick and had to stay in the hospital. I sang songs to Ella, and she often lay with me or in her hospital crib. The nurses had her sleep on her stomach to help her breathe better. The nurses decided to see how Ella would do without oxygen. They had already lowered the oxygen, so this was the next step. Unfortunately, it didn’t go well, and the monitor kept beeping because her oxygen levels were too low. She went back on oxygen. The course of RSV is hard to predict, but the pediatrician who visited every morning hoped she had passed her peak. Gradually, she started drinking more on her own. Whatever she didn’t drink was given via the feeding tube. The coughing fits were still there but thankfully shortened. Many visitors were scheduled whom I had to cancel. Everyone was rooting for us. Ella improved from day six onward and, among all the sensors on her face, showed me her first smile. What a magical moment. My little girl, so small and fighting this awful virus. Another attempt was made to let Ella breathe independently, and thankfully it went well. I was so proud of my child when she drank her bottle completely for the first time. I cried again, but this time tears of joy. If she got through the night well, there was a very good chance we could go home the next morning. She had to keep drinking well on her own, which she did, including her nighttime bottle. The next morning, the pediatrician discharged us from the hospital. Ella wasn’t completely out of the woods but could continue to recover at home. Ella is now three months old and still has wheezing breathing. This may last a while longer, but hopefully, she will outgrow it. Luckily, she is doing well, though I remain extra vigilant. She drinks and sleeps well and is very cheerful. She flashes a big smile whenever someone looks at her. The pediatrician told us we should never have been sent away from the GP service. An important lesson, which keeps coming back: always listen to your mother’s instinct.