So I haven’t been on here for ages, I have tried to write posts (I have 6 drafts stored) but each time haven’t been able to finish them. Mainly because I didn’t want to seem a complete depressing read, actually mainly because I literally couldn’t finish them.

But you know what something wonderful can be happening and it can also be bloody difficult. It doesn’t lessen the gratitude or the value or the wonderful news but it does separate you from it a bit. You have probably already guessed what it is.

The last 6 weeks I have been an absolute mess-in every sense of the word. I’d love to say that is not my current state but sadly it is.

And when I say ‘mess’ I’m not being polite, underplaying the situation. I mean my hair is more Medusa than ever (ok there are no snakes but I do keep finding hair clips that I put in it 4 days ago and obviously lost in the mass of hay that is my hair!) my skin is worse than it ever was in my teens, and no amount of industrial strength concealer (which ran out way before Christmas and I forgot to ask for more!) or moisturiser seems to be covering it.

But surely the worst part is my body and breath-in equal measure! (Disclaimer if you’re family you may not need to read this…its one thing to know your relative is a bit of state its quite another to read about their body in black and white)

But I am so sorry for anyone I meet, I am brushing my teeth but it isn’t enough…because I have vomit breath! Every time a medical professional has had to look in my mouth or even come close I have to shamefully apologise. And of course the smell isn’t restricted to my breath…oh dear lord the wind (how can you get wind if you’re not keeping anything down-what kind of sick (yes, I meant the pun!) joke is this?!) and the aroma of vomit that just comes with me is so rancid…whats worse is sometimes I genuinely think it is someone else, and look around accusingly…only to realise moments later its me!

I am a monster!! And of course not just physically, emotionally I’m shot to pieces as well. I shouldn’t be around people, or I should at least come with a warning (FYI this is my warning). I cry at everything-some legit stuff like the new Gilette advert and ‘The Greatest Dancer’-but a lot is just random. Also I ask ridiculous questions like to my poor, poor husband (who obviously is partially to blame!) when vomiting for the millionth time ‘im sorry I’m so ugly, will we ever have sex again? Will you ever find me pretty?’ To which he responds in the safest way, but is obviously lying!

And then I go from crying to being a raging be-atch obsessed with Marie Kondo’s tidying Netflix show but unable to leave my bed so then I cry ‘I want to spark joy through tidying too’ ‘our house is so shit’ ‘the bathroom needs to be redone now’.

So yeah I’m losing it, and turning into a monster.

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A monster of joy of course, because if you hadn’t guessed it, we are happy to announce that in our sleep deprived insanity we are expecting again.

And we are really pleased about it. I literally cried my eyes (no surprise with my earlier admission) out during our 12 week scan to which the sonographer responded ‘oh is it your first?’- no lady it’s not, I’m just a bit emosh!

But it has been a really hard 6 weeks that has broke me in so many ways. I have not been able to parent Faith much of the time-though weirdly she is entertained and not traumatised by me throwing up (in fact chants ‘more, more,more’) cute little weirdo that she is! But Christmas and New Year rolled past and I lay down or threw up for most of it. And I felt like shit-shit because I love this time of year but I did not have anything in me to give. And I found that a hard pill to swallow (again pun intended!) and tried fighting it, lost at the first hurdle. So I just lay down and occasionally crammed carbs down me. That photo of me taken by my lovely sister-in-law was a rare moment at the start of Christmas Day where I was sitting up right.

It’s ok there will always be next year and maybe Faith will enjoy pretending her sibling is the baby Jesus? Or a sheep/donkey?

But on a serious note, It has mainly been difficult because I have had a fair few scares, and have had to go in to hospital a lot because I kept having bleeds. Which I now know is very common, but the anxiety it caused me was horrific. I got to the point when I was scared to even go to the loo.

I would stay awake all night thinking this isn’t going to work out, and dreading having to face the next day. I didn’t want to see people, because I didn’t want 1) people to see me and 2) I didn’t want to talk about it but it was always on my mind, shadowing my life. Sadly I am aware miscarriage is a reality to so many people, and we are so fortunate to be where we are at. But I wanted to say you can be ‘fortunate/blessed/grateful’ and still be scared/isolated/anxious.

And I guess that’s why I wanted to share our news and be honest about the difficulties, just knowing that anxiety and grief are lonely places. And in some ways nothing can change that, but hearing that other people are there/have been there/are going through it can make it feel that little bit more bearable.

A random mum I connected with on the internet encouraged me in the worst of it. I still felt alone, I still cried a lot but it was a bit better getting messages from her. Also the pregnancy sickness support charity are amazing.

Obviously it is wonderful news, that we are so happy to share with you, but it hasn’t been and isn’t easy. I think probably a lot of mind screwball thoughts that I had about my daughters labour will probably raise their ugly heads around this pregnancy. And even though whenever I have been asked by health professionals if I am ok, I have so far always responded with ‘fine’ out of habit and embarrassment. I will be asking to get some support and see a psychologist, and if you’re in the same boat please think about doing that too. X