Monthly Archives: May 2017

I promised pregnancy updates ….. 

Come on ladies, be honest with me now … are you team “I love being pregnant and could do it every day for the rest of my life” or team “Come on, this has got to be over soon”

I would love to be one of those women who absolutely adore being pregnant, bloom when they should and sail through it all with no problems …. but just to make all the pregnant ladies feel better that don’t feel like that … I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum …. this has pretty much been me for most of this pregnancy so far…

One of the biggest reasons that I wish I felt good when pregnant is that because I’ve lost Millie and had a miscarriage, I carry this awful guilt around with me constantly were I think I should be thankful I can have more children and I should just get on with it and suffer with these awful illnesses as the outcome is worth it all. 

I’ve suffered from Hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) for the majority of this pregnancy. I mean, I have been sick very badly with Millie and Leo but this time has been something else, some days it has been non stop pretty much from waking up to going to sleep. The strange thing is though, is this is the exact reason that I knew something was wrong in my third pregnancy which resulted in a miscarriage last November – I wasn’t sick, I didn’t even feel sick once. Don’t get me wrong, I know each pregnancy can be different – that you can be really ill one pregnancy and glowing the next, but I knew. 

Even after 2 awful sickness pregnancies with Millie and Leo and then having the miscarriage, I was hoping to get an easy ride with this one, but nooooooooo – it came back with a vengeance. I’ve been gradually coming out of it over the past 2 weeks and touchwood, I’ve just felt sick all day for 2 weeks – no doubt it will start again.

This smile below … this is what I want to look like 😂 I’ve got no chance 😂 For the record, none of my pregnancies have been easy going.


Then, of course there is the tiredness. Now this is never standard tiredness with me! It completely knocks me out- exhaustion doesn’t ever cover it. I can’t function, I can’t eat, I can’t shower, I can hardly talk. I’ve never seen anyone like it or heard anyone talk about being like this and again doubled with the sickness has left me feeling absolutely horrendous. 

Make me feel a little better ladies, tell me your stories… I know I’m not the only one. I can’t be 😕. 

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It does turn out though, that some tests came back to show that I have a problem with my iron – so much so, that I’m now on quite a high does of medication that has finally gotten me back on my feet, just!

And then I caught a bloody cold! I was so angry, I’d not been out of the house for nearly four weeks and I came down with the world’s worst cold on top of everything else …. made worse by the fact Dan and Leo were fine which one of them had kindly carried it in for me! 

This time has been different too. 

When I was ill with my pregnancy with Leo, I was struggling, of course I was, I’d lost Millie. I was so scared and frightened but Dan was by my side every step of the way, just like he has been this time. 
Except, now there’s a toddler in the equation in the middle of all this illness. Leo being a toddler is not the problem at all – me feeling like I can’t be a proper mum to him because I’m so ill, that’s the problem. 


(Not a care in the world 😍😍😍)

Not being able to pick him up.

Not being able to bathe him.

Not being able to change his nappy on the changing mat as I couldn’t lift him up.

Not being able cuddle him properly when he’s hurt himself.

Missing out on him playing and laughing because I was so exhausted that I couldn’t  keep my eyes open ….

That hurt. In fact it ripped me apart inside. This big beaming smile coming running into me in the morning and I couldn’t even muster the energy to throw him up into the bed with us; actually – this has led to him mastering leg swinging, I’ll class that as helping his skill building 😉. 

But then my black dog came back to haunt me. The feelings of uselessness about not being able to feel like a proper mum. The wanting to close my eyes and not wake up again. The thoughts that Dan and Leo would be better off without me because I am such a burden when I’m so ill and lacking basic human functionalities to get through a day. 

I knew it was bad and I realised I needed some help. I was so close to asking for  anti-depressants again, I wanted that release of feeling numb and the pain going away. I was so angry with myself wanting these tablets again, especially when I’m pregnant. I’m a complete advocate for if you need anti-depressants then there should be no shame in taking them – but my shame was because I was on them for such a long period of time after we lost Millie and that I worked so hard to get off them with the fantastic mental health support from the NHS; that I was disgusted in myself for wanting to what to me seemed was an easy way out. In my head, when I’m feeling okay, I know it’s not any easy way out taking anti-depressants – because even just admitting that you need help is one of the hardest things to do, it’s an alternative way out, not an easy way out. 

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This all gets to me even more so because I never needed anything like this before we lost Millie and now I feel like it’s never going to do away, that at the most difficult times in my life, at any point in the future I could fall again and that’s so scary. It’s really scary and I know that so many of you who suffer from a mental illness feel like this too at the back of your mind. 


As it turns out, my psychologist had left me a voicemail on one of these awful days and when I picked it up, it’s just what I needed to hear. She wanted to know if I was ok with my pregnancy or if I needed any help. I’d never responded to anything as quickly in my life. 

I’d been asked previously at my pregnancy booking appointment if I wanted access to any pregnancy mental health services and I’d said yes because I knew I was going downhill – a combination of mixed emotions about Millie and I was starting to realise that I hadn’t really dealt with my miscarriage well – I’d kept myself busy and distracted after it happened and the effects were now starting to show.

I’ve started to see my psychologist again now. I’m going to be honest. I hate it. Don’t worry, if my psychologist reads this, (I’m not sure if she does read my blog) she already knows this. I hate it because it really hurts, it’s so emotionally painful. We’re doing EMDR again and it knocks me for six and takes me a few days to feel slightly normal again… but …  I know the benefits and I know how it helped me last time.

And just to finish this off on a laughable note for you, I just got my bump stuck in between the side of the bins and our house, go on, have a good laugh.. Dan did 🙈.

I’m not going to ramble anymore, this blog is longer than I intended already …. catch up in a few days xxx

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United we are 

The pure solidarity from the people of Manchester last night and today evidently shows what amazing people there are out there in the place that we all lovingly call home.

From the professionalism and passionate determination of the emergency services that took those first awful initial phone calls and that risked their lives to run straight in and began rescuing people; to the men and women on the street that provided first aid treatment to many strangers on the street that they had never come across before; to the taxi drivers that wavered their fees and travelled hundreds of miles to ensure people’s loved ones could get home and to the restaurants, shops, bar and hotels that have opened their doors free of charge to ensure that people could eat and have a safe place to rest whilst they waited to be reunited with their loved ones …. we stand united. 

Not just in Manchester, but the whole country.

As the day has gone on and the details have unfolded of what happened, the enormity of the tragedy coming to light and the lost loved ones photos have emerged slowly in the media , my mind is still completely astonished about the understanding of what cowards could do this, to target an innocent crowd … and more so, an innocent crowd full of children. 

Monsters. 

There is no other word for them. 

The grief of course is not confined to the Manchester community as people had travelled from hundreds of miles away for the concert, communities will be mourning all over the country when details of the further lost loved ones emerge. 

Lost brothers, sisters, parents, cousins, friends but most of all what hits me the hardest is the loss of sons and daughters – children to a mother and father somewhere, no matter what their age – still someone’s child – so many people still so young with their full life ahead of them. 

Many of us do not know these people personally but we have potentially lost future doctors, future fighters, future maths teachers or future (insert what comes to your mind here)…

…Or simply, future friends, future husbands and wives or that person across the street that just smiles at you at the right time when you are having a rough day and when you need it the most.

Today I have cried every time that I have seen a new photo of someone that has had their life confirmed lost because they are so young.

I cried for their parent’s pain.

I cried for the parents receiving that terrible news that their cherished child has lost their life.

I cried for the future that their child has lost.

I cried for the enormity of the grief and the challenges ahead for these parents of living their life without the child that they thought they would see receive their GCSE grades, the child that they thought they would walk down the aisle and the child who would give them beautiful grandchildren. 

I cried for them all, for all that they have lost and for all the future memories that have been taken from them in a split second. 

As a parent, the loss of a child is the hardest thing that you will ever go through, there is simply no comparison and I know that from my own experience. 

I looked at my 2 year old son today sat there laughing on the floor, so innocent and carefree and I was genuinely scared for the future of our children – the scale of the attacks and the technology and ideas in the weapons being used makes my blood run cold when I think about what it could be like for them in 20 years …. I wish the world was a better place for them. 

We could not attend the Manchester City Centre Vigil this evening but we have attended a local one to us earlier this evening and paid our respects. 

My heart stays with the families of the lost loved ones and the injured this evening x


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We are Seven

If many more people thought like the child in this poem, the world would be just a little lighter for many bereaved parents as the acknowledgment of every child they created and not just the ones that they still have with them everyday is something many of us crave. 
I’ll forever be a mum of every child I’ve held inside me, not just the ones I can hold tight every day. xxx

We are Seven – William Wordsworth 

—A simple child,That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.
“Sisters and brothers, little maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.
“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.
“Two of us in the churchyard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the churchyard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”
“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet maid, how this may be.”
Then did the little maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the churchyard lie,

Beneath the churchyard tree.”
“You run about, my little maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the churchyard laid,

Then ye are only five.”
“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.
“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.
“And often after sunset, sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.
“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.
“So in the churchyard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.
“And when the ground was white with snow

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”
“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little maid’s reply,

“O master! we are seven.”
“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

‘Twas throwing words away; for still

The little maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

William Wordsworth 

International Bereaved Mother’s Day Sunday 7th May 2017 – send a thought to those who pop into your mind, they’ll appreciate it xxx
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