When you’re an adult, Christmas starts to lose its appeal a bit. Well that is unless you have parents that still insist on checking if Santa has been, leaving out stockings and having a mass early morning present opening!
Our Christmas tradition continued right up until last year! A 30, 29 and 25 year old all up early, checking our stockings and following our parents down to see if “he’d been.” Seriously ridiculous but we loved it every year, well my brother not so much but that is because for the past few years he’s usually been majorly hungover! 

This year will be different because we get to start a new Christmas tradition. 


Ok, so Little may only be 9 months but it will still be a special day as it’s the first year we get to have a Christmas morning of just Little, Big and Me. We plan on waking up as a family of 3, opening up our presents and having something special for breakfast, although not sure what our Christmas morning brekkie will be yet. 

I’m not going to lie, I’m sad that I don’t get to spend the morning with my parents and siblings. To do the silly traditions that we’ve always done, but once we’ve opened up the presents here we’ll be off to start a new tradition at the grandparents too. We’ll take Little to open her presents at my parents house and have our dinner there. At 31 I still don’t feel grown up enough to cook the dinner! 


I didn’t, I mean Santa didn’t, want to spend too much on presents for Little this year as she won’t remember it and doesn’t really need anything. I thought about things we’d probably buy her in the future and toys that she’d grow in to. I went with some lovely wooden toys for her. 

All of this for £17.50 in the Sainsburys toy sale!

And then some lovely little extras, including some books, a puzzle and this beautiful little start to her Emma Bridgewater collection. 

But for me it was the little touches I wanted to invest in that we’d use for years to come to build our own traditions. 

I’ve ordered these tags to use to leave treats for Santa, can’t wait for them to arrive! 

I bought a beautiful personalised Santa sack to put her presents in. My brother has also bought her a similar one so we’ve got more room once the presents start getting bigger! 

Night night folks x

A post shared by Plump (@plumptextiles) on

And I’ve ordered some lovely personalised decorations too. One from handcraftedlove and another from elviesworkshop. Can’t wait to get the tree up and get them hanging pride of place. 

What are your plans for Christmas? Do you have traditions that you’ve started since having your little one? 

Little Big Love

Becky xx


I posted a while ago about wanting to be more adventurous with weaning. I think with her being born early, I’ve been playing it safe!

I have given Little lots more finger foods since then, including some yummy aubergine pizzas!

During the days I have two modes:

Mode 1) Run around like an absolute mad woman getting jobs done in the fleeting moments when Little is entertaining herself or napping.

Mode 2) Sit on the sofa too knackered to do anything except scroll through Instagram and half watch crappy day time TV while cuddling Little and keeping her entertained!

I’m not going to lie, usually mode 2 wins out but recently I’ve been trying to get more in to mode 1! So, while Little entertained herself in the jumperoo, I cooked up some egg muffins for her dinner recently.

Egg Muffin Recipe

I used:

{ 7 eggs / 3 large spoons of cottage cheese / handful of chopped broccoli }

You can chuck in any veggies you like. I think I’ll use a bit of spinach if I make them again.


How to make them:

These are so easy to make as you just chuck everything in a bowl and mix them up. You then pour the mixture in silicone muffin trays (I used two trays of 6) and put in an oven at 180• for 15-20 minutes. Job done!

I told you they were easy!


I cut them in half and served with a few crisps and mango sticks and she loved them. There are plenty left for the fridge but they are so moorish I don’t know how long they’ll last!


Let me know what you would add in them and how yours turned out if you give them a go.

Little Big Love

Becky xx

My name is Becky and I’m an Instagram Addict!

Although I only started Little, Big and Me recently, I have blogged for a couple of years. I have always been a very occasional blogger and have tended to pick it up and put it down as I felt motivated. But, the one thing I’ve always kept up with is Instagram.


I spend far too much time scrolling through people’s pages, liking and commenting on photos and replying to comments on my photos. I find I can get lost in those little squares sometimes and  I have my phone in my hand more than I should some days! Although its not all bad, Instagram is a form of social media that I find really positive (most of the time!)

There is a fantastic community of people on there who share stories, experiences and their lives. I first met an amazing community of women who were going through fertility issues. I was able to share my diary of my fertility treatment with a group of people who really understood. The support was invaluable, especially when people around me in ‘real life’ couldn’t understand. Many of those on the fertility journey have now become part of this fantastic community of parents that exists in Instagram too. Again it has become a place to discuss all things mum and see snapshots of life from some beautiful babies as they grow and develop.

I love to share parts of daily life and the fact that its so instant really helps. Unlike blog posts that need writing, editing, and links adding, among other things. I also really enjoy the comments and likes (I’m a bit of a like whore) from such a wide range of people. It enables conversations to open with people around the world, and closer to home too.

I’m lucky enough that I’ve actually met some lovely people through Instagram that I would call my friends. I’ve been able to connect with people in real life, through friendships made in squares of photos online!

So yes I’m an Instagram Addict, but it’s had a great affect on my life so far.

Here are some of my favourite Instgram photos I’ve posted:



As you can see, there is a bit of a theme! Well it is all about Little, Big and Me after all!

What is your Instagram username? Come follow me and give me a comment on a picture you enjoy.

Little Big Love

Becky xx

After a fantastic response to Part One, Part Two of the birth story is here.

So here I was, 29 weeks pregnant and sitting in hospital knowing I was going to give birth any time. I can’t actually put in to words everything I was feeling as I still find it hard to piece it all together.

Once they’d removed the magnesium drip, which seriously made me feel like I was dying at one point, they told me to get some rest. The pains were still quite mild but I said to the midwife that as soon as I relaxed I knew everything would start up again. She laughed and said not to worry. So, the lights went off and I laid my head down. As I closed my eyes I wondered how many more days I could do this.

Not the best photo of me I’ve ever taken but it’s real! I look and feel exhausted here because I was.


I must have drifted off to sleep, but woke just after midnight with some niggling feelings. I laid there trying to stay calm and that’s when it happened. The gush! I knew straight away that my waters had broken. The only way I can describe it is like something inside popped and then I wet myself. Which incidentally I did do about 10 minutes later! I just couldn’t hold it in and peed everywhere while profusely apologising to the midwife who had come in to check on me after I buzzed. She wasn’t convinced my waters had broken. She thought I’d just wet myself, so the actual wetting myself didn’t help back up my story! But on examination, I was fully dilated. This was it. 29weeks and 1 day pregnant and I was having this baby.

When I’d first been admitted we’d been told what could happen in labour, but in that minute when she told me I was fully dilated I suddenly became more scared than I’d ever been. This baby was wanted more than anything, the fact that we’d been through IVF and I’d stabbed myself with needles and pumped myself full of drugs helped prove that, but I wasn’t ready to be a mum yet. I wasn’t ready to have a baby now. I hadn’t been prepared. We had only been to two antenatal classes and the one that dealt with labour wasn’t for another 18 hours! I had no idea what to do to get this baby out.

The pains started to ramp up and were really strong through my back, so I was given gas and air. I began to have a heavy feeling inside. I couldn’t process what I was supposed to do but told the midwives and Doctors, of which had flooded the room, that I felt like I needed to push. They told me to go for it and that’s when I realised I didn’t know what I was pushing. The Dr told me to push as though I was doing a poo. I’d heard that so many times but stupidly I didn’t know that’s actually what you did! I tried, I really tried but nothing seemed to be happening. They made me stop taking the gas and air as it was making me dozy and as I tried to push I was getting more worked up and apologising to them all for not being able to do it! They fetched an ultrasound machine to check on the baby’s placement, because of the size they were worried there may have been some movement. That’s when they saw the problem. Head up and arm above the head. This baby was a wriggler and wasn’t going to make this easy. To try and get some movement, and this is no exaggeration, I had a Dr and Midwife both put their fingers inside my special place to try and move her. I’ve never felt anything like it, but I thought there would be a head coming out of there soon enough so it was preparation. Although that wasn’t to be. They couldn’t shift the arm and by this point the heart beat started dropping. They decided to move me to theatre, ready to give me an epidural and use forceps to pull the baby out quickly.

I realise I’m referring to ‘the baby’ at this point, but we didn’t know that we were having a girl. We had decided to wait and find out once the baby was born. We were calling the bump Freddie as I was convinced we were having a boy! So, Freddie was stuck and I was rushed to theatre. Hubby was sent off to put on scrubs and then would be allowed to join us. But, we hit a snag.

On the way the heart rate continued to drop. The Dr decided that there wasn’t enough time and called for an emergency cesarean. They didn’t have time to wait for an epidural to do its work so decided to give me a general anesthetic. All of this was a blur at the time. I just remember laying on the table, with the anesthetist trying to ask me questions, while I cried out and writhed around in pain. He told me to try and remain calm and the midwife informed him that I was having a contraction. His reply; “oh, sorry about that.” All I wanted was Big holding my hand, who had been amazing through the whole process so far. He wasn’t allowed in so there I was, about to be put to sleep, laying terrified and alone. Would the baby be ok? Would I be ok?

And then I woke up. Two midwives and Big came in to focus. I had an oxygen mask on but couldn’t reach to get it off. Big looked over me and told me with a smile that “Freddie’s a girl!” I was too out of it to cry, but I felt so overwhelmed. Our little girl. He showed me pictures he’d been allowed to take as they were working on her in the incubator. Inserting tubes and wires. He told me with delight how she weighed 2lb 5oz and how beautiful she was, although he’d only got a quick glance. There I lay, post surgery, in too much discomfort to move (though by this time the pain hadn’t hit yet) and all I wanted was to hold my baby girl. To cuddle her and get that first photo that everyone showed off on social media. But I couldn’t. She was on a ward on the other side of the hospital being stabilised by Doctors.

I was told that if I was able to get myself out of bed and in to a wheelchair in the next couple of hours then I’d be able to go down and see her. I’ll be honest, as I lay there waiting, I didn’t feel like a mum. I had no baby to hold yet. I knew she’d been born but it didn’t feel real. I was worried. Worried that I might not bond with her. That I might not love her as I’d been denied that chance of a cuddle at birth. But honestly, I cuddle her now and that love is so strong. It took me a couple of days of seeing her in the incubator and doing cares for her, which are what neonatal staff call changing nappies and doing tube feeds, to feel like she was mine. To remember that she was that little thing that wriggled inside me. I loved her in a way that I can’t explain. I was finally a mum!

Little Big Love

Becky xx

When I became pregnant I was absolutely over the moon. Then the reality of giving birth set in and, in all honesty, I have never been so terrified!

We decided that we would go along to an antenatal course to help try and alleviate some of my fears. We booked the course well in advance of my due date, so that we could be sure we would be well prepared. We went along to the first two and learnt about taking care during pregnancy, preparing a hospital bag and drawing up a birth plan. The third class was going to be introduction to labour, but something got in the way!

The night after class two I started having really bad pains. I was 28 weeks pregnant and had been having what I thought was Braxton Hicks for a couple of weeks. I barely got any sleep that night and, when I finally gave up and got out of bed, I saw some blood when I went to the toilet. I rang the assessment centre straight away just for some reassurance. They said it didn’t sound like an emergency, but to go up late morning when they had some space and they’d check me out. I was in a strange state of mild panic but feeling like if they weren’t worried, then I shouldn’t be either.

At the Hospital

When I got there I was examined and had swabs taken to find out if any contraction hormones had been released. We also heard our baby’s heartbeat and little kicks and movements on the monitor.

My barely there bump hooked up to the monitors


After hours waiting and being told they were still getting results, I was told that I had tested positive for contractions and had to be admitted. I was in a state of shock but again trying not to worry as they said it was just a precaution. I was examined again and this time told that I was 1cm dilated. That’s when I really started to panic! I was 28 weeks pregnant. My baby wasn’t supposed to be born yet. We had nothing ready. I wasn’t ready! The Dr told us that I was under threat of labour and, due to the gestation, I was going to be rushed to a specialist neonatal hospital an hour away from home. I actually started shaking uncontrollably but weirdly for me I still didn’t cry! Instead I was strapped to a bed, loaded on to an ambulance and driven off with blue lights flashing. Having never been in an ambulance before at least it’s one I can tick off my bucket list!

When the ambulance arrived, I was given a steroid injection, which was so bloody sore, and put on a drip to slow the labour. We had a Dr from the neonatal ward come and discuss with us what could happen if our baby was delivered. Words like intubated, brain bleeds, oxygen, incubator, critical, among others stuck out and the shaking started again. But still, I kept the tears in. Looking back at it now I think it was the shock! Luckily, as we were so far from home, my hubby was allowed to stay with me. I don’t think I’d have coped without him as my brain went in to overdrive about what could happen.

The next morning, I woke up to a sleeping hubby, that could only be likened to a body in a morgue, next to me. I have no idea how or why he managed to get himself in this position but at least it gave me a laugh!

I felt like things had calmed down. The pains had disappeared and the bleeding had stopped. I was given another steroid injection (just as painful as the first) and told that as long as things stayed calm, they would look at transferring me back home the next day. Over the next 2 days the pains came and went. I called then ‘tightenings’ and so did the medical staff, so in my mind I wasn’t in labour.

I was hooked up to the monitor several times and on a couple of occasions her heartbeat dropped. This meant a rush of Doctors who would then see her heart rate jump back up and off they’d trot. That was until I hit the day when I was 29 weeks pregnant and a Midwife couldn’t find her heart beat at all. Hubby and I thought she just wasn’t searching in the right place, and sure enough when the Dr turned up she could find a heart beat. Just to be sure she decided to examine me. Much to everyone’s surprise I was 8cm dilated! I had got through on the odd paracetamol as I’d not realised I was in labour. That sent everyone in to overdrive. Out came the various delivery equipment and the room filled with more midwives and the neonatal Dr who came to check everything was ok.

I was told I needed to go on a magnesium drip to support the baby’s brain development but warned that it might make me feel a little ill. I told them I was prepared to do whatever was good for the baby. They put the drip in to my arm and I immediately heated up. I could feel myself sweating, my breathing quickening and my arm burning. As I was telling the midwife I felt funny, I started to feel a rush in my head. It was like a wave coming over me, my ears ringing and everything in the room seeming to blur out of focus. They laid me back, ripped out the drip and put pressure on my arm. I had been about to black out when they caught it. The vein had collapsed and my arm was filling up. I came round and they put the drip back in. A similar feeling washed over me, without the swelling, but this time they told me to lie down, it was just a side effect of the magnesium and it would soon pass.

After about 5 hours I started to feel a bit better. I sat in silence next to by husband, still sweaty and light headed, listening to a woman in labour in the next room. She was screaming and shouting, crying and telling them to help her. This is when I cried. I mean really cried. Everything bubbled to the surface. I realised I was having this baby and there was no stopping it.

Come and read the next part of our story.

Little Big Love

Becky xx