mental health

a n x i e t y | the beginning

Life had spiralled, everything seemed messy but I just figured that’s what happens sometimes. To control the thoughts whirring through my head, I was going out more often than normal, drinking more alcohol than normal, partying for longer than normal. Somewhere along that path, having fun with my friends had turned into a blur of miscellaneous thoughts the next day. Recollection of being a bit of an arsehole and countless questions as to why and ‘fuck, did I really do that last night?’ – even with these thoughts, I continued on. Drinking, partying, stumbling home, throwing up, hiccuping, room spinning, waking up with a huge sense of unease and an even bigger headache.

One ‘morning after the night before’ I was finding that dealing with these thoughts suddenly wasn’t so easy. My heart was racing, my chest felt like a gorilla was standing on it, my arm was tingling – I just figured it was a really awful hangover. I lay down on the sofa, thinking I’d just sleep it off. Every time I would drift off, the only way I can describe it is that I would feel like I was dying, dropping off the planet – jumping from a cliff edge. There it went, my mental stability – bye!

Granted, I panicked – obviously that did not help. I drove to A&E, told them what I was feeling and maybe dulled it down a little as “I LITERALLY FELT LIKE I WAS FUCKING DYING” was maybe not the best opener. The Doctor told me that I had low blood pressure and he put it down to the amount of alcohol consumed the night before. I felt so uncomfortable and dramatically judged. I walked out of A&E with my head hung and generally feeling like I had just wasted the time of an A&E Doctor.

That night, all of the same feelings remained but they were accompanied with horrifying thoughts and the only way I could get by was to move constantly. Whether it was rocking back and forth in the same place or wandering around and around my home. The fresh air helped but clothes made me feel trapped so I’d go outside wearing barely anything and shiver – regardless, I felt better than I did when I was inside. I’d leave the windows open in the harsh December air just so I could lie with no duvet on and shiver in the freezing cold to get to sleep.

I finally decided to get a Doctors appointment and almost immediately he told me it was an anxiety disorder. The thought that all of this physical pain had stemmed from a mental illness was so overwhelming to me. He gave me pills, I took them. I took a pill once a day every day whilst also seeking the help of a psychologist and attempted to get back to some kind of normality. My mental illness had affected my relationships, my career – I had disappeared and I had to figure out how to construct myself all over again. My personality was different, what I enjoyed doing was different and there were a hell of a lot of things that I now couldn’t do because I was just terrified. How had this happened overnight?!

I’m still taking pills, I’m still going to counselling, I’m still rebuilding my life from what I can only describe as the rock bottom of my brain. If I did it, so can you. Seek help – family, friends, therapy, medical professionals – there are even phone lines that are dedicated to helping people with mental illness. They are there for a reason, they are there for you.



r e f l e c t i o n

2018 – what a whirlwind.

I don’t choose to make resolutions as I find that they can be incredibly hard to stick to and you find yourself penalising yourself when you have that bite of brownie, draw of a cigarette, don’t go to the gym for 49502 days, etc, etc… BUT I do enjoy attempting to find a little more balance in my life in the new year and reflecting on what I may have done less or more in the previous year.

Pregnancy aided my anxiety in 2018, I know for many the uncertainties of pregnancy can bring about an appearance of anxiety with the constant worry of whether your little one is thriving, whether you’re eating the right things and avoiding the wrong ones or simply whether they’re “okay” in there. But for me, my anxieties lessened and I have found that since Rex was born they have begun to sting me again and lead me down paths I thought I’d never cross again. In 2019, I’m hoping to steer myself in the right direction once more. Finding joy in the small things and not sweating what I cannot control. This is obviously much easier said than done and when I’m in the midst of a flare up of anxiety, even with my mindset of breathing through it and reflecting on the good in my life, I still find myself in a vicious spiral of unconscious thought.

Another task I’d like to set myself in 2018, is to get to know ME. I’ve always been a pretty selfless person and I’ve found that being a Mother has changed me in ways I never imagined possible. I have found that I NEED to take time for myself, enjoy being in my own company and sometimes crave my own company – needless to say, this has never been a feature of my past. I was always drawn to a place with people, to my best friend’s in the evening when I had nothing to occupy my mind, to my restaurant during the day when I found myself alone in my own head. With the ability and need to be on my own more, I want to accept myself – every crazy inch of my own thoughts and feelings and realise that I am enough. Thoughts of self deprecation plague everyone’s minds, but I find that more often than not I am doubting myself, looking in the mirror overcome with dislike over what I see staring back at me or saying something and immediately thinking ‘who would want to hear that? why did you even say that?’ I want to make peace with myself, seek comfort in the solace of my own home, be alone with my thoughts without criticism.

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I could easily have found a thousand other things that I wanted to change in 2018 – to slim down after the birth of my son has left my body a little wiggly where it perhaps shouldn’t be and marked from the rotund belly all 7lbs 12oz of him gave me in the end, and perhaps I will start working on the more physical things but for now, I need to gain a positive mindset to pull me forward into 2019.

I hope you are all comfortable and content with the tasks you have set yourself for the year ahead, and if you haven’t set yourself any intent for change then I hope you are content with who you are right now and know that you are enough.


“My hair does WHAT?!” – What they don’t tell you about postpartum life

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I always knew I’d struggle to adjust to life with a newborn – it was a phase that (contrary to what others pushed on me) I knew I wasn’t going to enjoy that much. Don’t get me wrong – I was infinitely happy about how my life was about to change but that whole fourth trimester thing just didn’t appeal. A human so tiny that I was constantly worried I’d drop or pick up the wrong way and snap in half?! I was so protective of my little bear that I was even scared of myself. How many times can you poke a baby in a 24 hour period to make sure they’re still alive?! Turns out – A LOT. So, off the back of this small paragraph intro that probably makes no sense, here goes the list of ‘What they don’t tell you about postpartum life’ – all of this is channelled from my own experiences and EVERYONE’S fourth trimester is entirely different I’m sure:

  1. Regardless of how you delivered, you will bleed from your hooha and SOMEWHERE will hurt. Begging my Mum to buy me a kids rubber ring to sit on 2 days PP was definitely not my finest hour. I remember lying in the hospital with my catheter and my spinal wearing off thinking ‘hey! this isn’t that bad’ – MAN! I was so wrong. The journey home was horrendous, my Mum tried to meticulously avoid all bumps in the road but even with her extreme care, by the time I got to my front door I genuinely thought my vagina had fallen out. I was permanently in a state of anxiety that I was going to get an infection and constantly attempting to remain as clean as I possibly could. Alongside, the worry that I had a vagina that resembled scar face and asking Andy to check it approx. 17 times a day. (Sorry love!)
  2. In my case, I was happy to formula feed. I knew I wouldn’t have much time off before going back to work and didn’t want to mess with my tiny humans mind by letting him adjust to breastfeeding and then implementing a bottle within a few weeks. I thought naively, that my supply wouldn’t be the best anyway as I had read articles about bustier ladies having trouble with their supply. I (again) was so wrong. I had bazoombas like Pamela Anderson and everytime I bent down they poured milk. They were painful, engorged, I could barely wear a bra never mind breast pads! Rex wouldn’t settle on me easily as he was entirely pissed off that I wouldn’t let him drink from my chest. (Sorry buddy!)
  3. Night sweats. I don’t even think I have to explain for all you Mamas out there. I would wake up in the night to feed my new little human and I would be absolutely DRENCHED in sweat – I’d have to grab a towel and dry myself off before even attempting to do anything because the minute I got out of my warm bed I’d be absolutely freezing – it was basically as if I had just emerged from a swimming pool. This continued for at least 6 weeks and I was genuinely begging for it to end. I’d be freezing in bed drenched in sweat and I couldn’t keep up with it as hard as I tried. Apparently it’s the pregnancy hormones being drained out of you – then how do you explain my next point…
  4. Crying. Emotional wreck. I’ve had jokes made many times by my friends that I am the ice queen – heart of stone and “none of us have ever seen you cry” – well sweet jesus that took a dive when I had Rex. Anything, everything – made me so emotional. Especially if it was concerning my tiny tot.
  5. This last one is happening to me right now and I’m genuinely in awe. I have thick curly hair and THANK GOODNESS FOR THAT because it’s falling out, in clumps, constantly. I can run my hand through my hair and have a huge handful of hair – washing my hair has now turned into a game of ‘can you unblock the plug hole fast enough for the water to drain enough so you don’t drown’ – tad dramatic but y’know, it happens. Screen Shot 2018-09-09 at 17.01.41

I am more than sure a few more will crop up as time goes on but for now, I will leave you with those 5 delightful facts about my postpartum life. OH! And a picture of Rex for good measure of course!

N x


Rex Monday Stewart, 7lbs 12oz, Friday 18th May 2018

Long time, long long time!

My last three blog posts were written during the hardest, most amazing and crazy experiences of my entire life – my pregnancy. I’ve thought about writing out my birth story countless times and I’ll be honest, I could barely even tell my friends about it while holding my tiny newborn in my arms. It was beautiful and frightening, amazing and horrible, wonderful and brutal all wrapped into one. Here goes…

Reduced fetal movement plagued the last two months of my pregnancy, I had experienced it in my second trimester but it really ramped up in my third. He was lazy and boisterous all at the same time – the days where I didn’t feel his hardcore kicks and instead replaced by slow strange movements I’d grow concerned. The fourth episode concluded in a scan and the discovery that I had increased amniotic fluid which was a tell tale sign of late onset gestational diabetes. I was terrified and panicked – all I wanted was my little boy in my arms to keep a close eye on him and nurture him to make sure he was safe. I felt like I was failing, I know now that I wasn’t but at the time, it was just awful. They decided to induce me at 37 weeks + 1 day on Wednesday, 16th May 2018.

We were told to call on the morning of my induction date to make sure that my 10am slot was still available for me – I called, they were quick to remind me that they were very short staffed and to come in at 1pm instead. I had already been awake the majority of the night from pregnancy and mainly, nerves. I decided to wrap myself up in some admin work until we had to make our way to the hospital.

1pm arrived, we arrived at the Maternity Hospital to be told to wait in the waiting room and that I may not be induced on that day. Safe to say, I was furious – furious that I was being put through potentially waiting further and for my tiny baby to be in a potentially unsafe environment for that much longer than necessary. I was the unsafe environment and it was hitting me hard that I needed to get this going. Luckily, they came through and told us there was a bed available – HALLELUJAH!

The induction process was the Cooke Balloon Catheter – I had been told at my antenatal classes that these were being trialled (the word ‘trialled’ always makes me feel like a bit of a guinea pig and I was worried) but hey ho, off we went.. With my legs in stirrups, I looked at Andy and I knew he could tell I was terrified. They had provided gas & air, surely this isn’t a wonderful experience?! It wasn’t as bad as I thought but unluckily for me, I had prompted to take the gas & air which made me feel a million different types of nauseous. YAY. After what felt like 5 minutes but was actually 45 minutes we were on our way to our little corner of the Maternity Hospital to wait it out. The balloon catheter should fall out if you get to 3cm dilated then it’s go time – if it doesn’t fall out, you may need further assistance and of course, longer to wait. It had to stay in for 24 hours and as I was high risk I wasn’t allowed to go home – thank goodness I didn’t because the pain the catheter caused made me lose approximately 6 hours of time. I remember vomiting and the rest of the evening is a blur of pain.

Screen Shot 2018-08-27 at 21.22.18Thursday 17th, we spent the entire day on the ward – I was contracting incredibly irregularly and waiting, waiting… We had been told that with the closure of the maternity unit, the labour ward was incredibly busy and we were pretty low on the list to be moved through. My balloon catheter was removed 25 hours after insertion and I was a “favourable 3.5cm” but no, we wouldn’t be going to the labour ward anytime soon and the only thing that would help me contract regularly was Pitocin (the hormone drip) which I could only have inserted on the labour ward. So I was stuck, contracting at 3.5cm for approx. 20 hours.

Friday 18th, I hadn’t slept since Tuesday night (and that wasn’t really sleeping), I’d barely eaten anything due to the nausea my intermittent contractions were causing and I had just decided that I was never leaving that ward, I was never having my baby (man, lack of sleep makes me dramatic) Luckily, just as I was losing my shit, at 4am, a wonderful midwife came through to take me to the labour ward – I shouted straight away that I wanted an epidural (NOT in my birth plan, but Wednesday evening showed me the pain I may encounter along the path to my baby)

The Labour Ward:

I got changed into a bee-a-utiful hospital gown and my waters were artificially broken. Hmm.. that wasn’t too bad I thought! Holy Jesus, my contractions kicked up a notch, with every contraction came a tidal wave of vomit. Poor Andy had to really step up to catch it all in countless cardboard hospital bowls – ew! My epidural was administered (in between vomit spells) I was so excited for the relief… it never came. The epidural had only taken to my left side and was only up to my knee – helpful! I had been warned that it may not work for everyone. A few anaesthesiologists later and we had managed to make it work up to my rib cage on my left hand side – I could still feel my entire right hand side. MAN that cold spray they use to check if you can feel anything is hideous! The midwife was begging me to let her start the Pitocin drip to increase my contractions but I was terrified and I just could not do it without trying to get this epidural to work! Five hours later and it had taken to both sides but was weak – I was okay with this. Mild relief.

So, you say some crazy shit when you’re in labour. My Mum had arrived by this point and I just remember telling my midwife I was “spurting” like a fountain – my waters were still gushing out of me and yeah, there was a lot. I was basically in a tiny little bed shaped swimming pool – it wasn’t too bad actually but my midwife was quick to change that!

I had read so many mothers mention how you just go into a bit of a rabbit hole whilst in labour, I swear Wednesday to the evening of Friday was just a blur of needles, blood, buttons, midwives, questions – I relied on Andy and my Mum for so much as I just was barely able to answer anything I was asked.

1pm came around and they told me I was fully dilated – this was a miracle to me as I felt like I would only be 4 or 5cm when examined! I did not, however, realise that I had to wait a further two hours for my little babe to make his own way down the birth canal before I could start pushing. My determination took a hit then and I realised that I had to deal with the contractions (my epidural was still patchy) for another two hours.

3.15pm – I got the go ahead to start pushing and my midwife talked me through 3 pushes to a contraction. I was determined to give birth on my knees and was told that given that I had an epidural this probably wasn’t going to be possible. I was DETERMINED – three or maybe even four tries and I was on my knees, I could barely feel my legs holding me up and was focused on holding onto the top of the bed with full force to ensure my numb bottom half would work with me!! I was told that when the head was coming I would be told to pant to ensure minimal or no tearing. Although, my contractions were still sporadic and he was stuck with just his head out for 6 minutes – the longest 6 minutes of my life. During this time it was also noted that he had his cord wrapped around his neck. The midwife was talking to my tiny babe as he was half in/half out! Lovely! There it came, my final contraction – unfortunately, my little babe was too quick for all the panting nonsense and zoomed out! 3.32pm and he was brought right up into my arms.

The labour ward was short staffed, we knew – Rex came so quickly that my midwife had no time to call for back up. It was very quickly noted that he was purple/blue and he hadn’t cried – why hadn’t he cried?! Andy cut the cord and he was scooped up and my midwife ran out of the room while a multitude of buzzers went off around us. As planned, if anything were to happen, my Mum would go with Rex and Andy would stay with me. There we were, just Andy and me, it hadn’t been that way for a while! Unfortunately, I didn’t imagine that this would be in a room with my blood spattered all over the floor.

What felt like hours but was actually minutes later, my Mum ran in to tell me he was fine and he had peed on the chief midwife – well done, Rex!

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I suffered a third degree tear, with surgery and all I lost 1.609L of blood. I thought I was pale!!!

I still don’t believe he’s mine, I still don’t believe that I held him in my belly for nearly 9 months and then gave birth to him all on my own. My tiny human is 14 weeks and 3 days old and I’m still in disbelief and in awe of him every single day.

It was long – well done for staying to the end!

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‘Get Some Sleep While You Still Can!’

… I would, I really wish I could – that’d be fab.

Honestly, I was so excited by the prospect of having an excuse to be asleep the majority of the day. Andy, my Mum, actually telling me off for NOT sleeping – it seemed perfect. Unfortunately, this was just not to be because no one tells you that even though you are gut wrenchingly exhausted 99.9% of the day – your body is like NU UH GIRL KEEP GOING YOU DON’T NEED NO SLEEP. (I don’t know who/what I just channelled there to play the part of my subconscious but I like her, she’s sassy.)

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During my second trimester, I found that going to sleep around 11pm and waking up around 10am was my jam. Genuinely, if I was waking up any earlier than 10am and attempting to start the day I would just feel completely nauseated and end up with my head down the toilet by approximately 6pm. (Yeah, the nausea has been a thing the whole way through for me – not just the first trimester. WOO!)

Queue the third trimester, I am now much more comfortable with early mornings but find that I’m in need of a nap by around 11am – the great thing is, I can generally persevere without murdering anyone until about 3/4pm and then I really need to lie down. I’m actually okay with this, it means my sleep routine is ever so slightly more stable and I actually enjoy being alert(ish) and awake early on in the day, even if it does mean I’m going to bed between 8pm and 10pm.

Now, this is all bullshit really because between going to bed and waking up in the morning – that is when the fun really happens.

Just a few of my night time rendezvous:

Wake to go to the bathroom (approximately 29399047580 times), wonder if Baby Bear’s okay, count kicks, can’t fall asleep again, finally fall asleep, repeat.

Pelvic pain (holy crap what is that all about by the way?!), my hips feel like they are supporting 20 of me and make the fucking weirdest noises! Round ligament pain (WHY DOES NO ONE TELL YOU ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU’RE PREGNANT?!) Yes, I’m naive – I figured my body would just casually stretch like a blossoming flower to accommodate my growing baby, nope – from below my boobs to my pubic bone feels like a balloon being pulled over a bowling ball. These two symptoms along with casual nausea and back pain mean you spend the first hour or so in bed constantly changing positions like an overly stimulated walrus. Pregnancy pillows are great, but they only do so much and my darling other half seems to be enjoying stealing mine at the minute.

Once I do finally get into that super comfortable position of two pillows propping me up slightly (for the heartburn, of course), my pregnancy pillow under my head tilting me slightly to the left and also between my knees and my feet (to ensure my hips are in the correct position), my snuggly little Eeyore toy firmly in between my pregnancy pillow and my belly to soften that stomach pain and also ensuring that I sleep on my left because IF YOU SLEEP ON YOUR BACK OR YOUR RIGHT SIDE IT CAN RESTRICT THE AIR FLOW TO YOUR BABY AND YOUR PLACENTA AND THEN THE WORLD EXPLODES. Yes, after all of this, I finally find the perfect position and it is glorious, then my little bundle of joy does a playful little kick to say goodnight and low and behold I NEED TO PEE. Back to square one, thank you munchkin.

I can’t sleep, breathe or walk properly – how am I supposed to find the energy to glow?!?! However, pregnancy is the most amazing excuse for feeling like crap EVER. I rant, I rave, I am struggling for sure – he’s testing me quite a bit but I cannot wait to meet my little boy. I am so incredibly in love with someone I have never met and that love grows each and every day (as does the love for my amazing husband to be for actually tolerating this mess)

Just a short while longer, Baby Bear. We love you. ♡Screen Shot 2018-03-16 at 15.49.22



They said there’d be glowing and shit…

After finding out I was expecting at 4 weeks – I had a wonderful week and a bit of blissful pregnancy, literally walking around thinking I was nailing this pregnancy shit. (oh, first timers – ignorance is bliss)


I will be doing a blog post of ALL of my pregnancy symptoms however, it feels only right, to give this wonderful one it’s own little corner of the internet for any other first time mamas to read and feel: A. super chuffed because they have had no nausea or B. thankful that others have been just as miserable as them.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have HG* thankfully and I am so impressed with the volume of women in the UK that go through this awful experience and so grateful every day that I am not one of them.

HG* = Hyperemesis Gravidarum – persistent severe vomiting leading to weight loss and dehydration, as a condition occurring during pregnancy with most ending in continuous hospitalisation.

Yes, I have had persistent vomiting but, I have managed to force feed myself food and water and some of the time (albeit a small amount) managed to keep it down. Basically, I have managed to save myself from dehydration – even though I did end up at the Doctors twice with suspected dehydration but luckily I was always sent home with some more antiemetics (stop-being-sick pills) and advice.

So, it all started slowly with what felt like motion sickness here and there. It peaked one lovely Sunday evening when Andy and Cleo were having a Chinese and the smell hit me in the hallway – within seconds I was vomiting my nutritious meal for the day of cucumbers and water.

Since then, it all went downhill – you develop this wonderful cycle of nausea, taking an antiemetic, severe hunger which leads to nausea, eating, nausea, taking an antiemetic – you get the picture, right?

The nausea stopped me right in my tracks and I went from a social, pretty positive person to someone who wanted to be in bed on my own all the time and I literally hated everyone and didn’t want to see ANYONE including my Other Half. (By the way, that’s a problem when you live with them, thankfully, he is AMAZING and just left me alone and fetched me things when I was cranky and vomiting my life away.)

The only thing that got me through was the permanent idea/advice that at 12 weeks it all disappeared as the placenta took over producing hormones for my baby and my body wasn’t being as drained – HAHAHAHAHAHAHA this was a lie for me. I am currently nearly 15 weeks and I spent the best part of last night on my bathroom floor with a pillow. Sometimes, if I’m feeling especially risky, I sit on my kitchen floor with my back door open and my trustee bucket. But honestly, I’m just one of those people that hates being sick anywhere other than the toilet – other than when intoxicated, of course.

So, enough about vomit, here’s a small list of things that get me through the nausea (sometimes). OH! Also, please note that this is my own personal experience and absolutely everyone’s pregnancies are different but if I can even help one person who is feeling awful, that’s enough for me!

  1. AIR! Go outside, get some fresh air – luckily it’s permanently 0 degrees in Scotland right now which is perfect for me.
  2. When you feel that thick hot saliva feeling in your mouth, take a sip of water and hold it in your mouth – slowly sipping it down. This should cool down your mouth and maybe stop you from losing your lunch.
  3. Fruit and vegetables high in water – cucumbers and watermelon. They hydrate you and trick your body into thinking it’s actually eating.
  4. Ice lollies – the shitty kids ice poles. Again, HYDRATE!
  5. Rest. The biggest help for me was being horizontal. It’s the only time I got relief from that overwhelming feeling of nausea.

All my thoughts were invested in self-preservation, knowing that if I continued to be sick my little June bug was potentially gaining less nutrients (I know that’s BS but the guilt is awful) – luckily, I’m slowly learning to deal with the fact that I will probably be sick at least once a day and bouncing back from it a little quicker.

All you nauseous mamas to be – YOU ARE NOT ALONE. When you’re lying on that bathroom floor at 9am, 1pm, 4am (because MORNING sickness is a fucking myth) – take comfort in the fact that you are not alone and your midwife/doctor are on hand for you. Ask them for help! The drugs might not help but it may give you a few days of respite.

It’s all for the greater good.

Nadine ♥


“It says you’re pregnant!”

Well… it’s been 71 days since I found out that I’m expecting my little ‘June bug’ and it has been a W H I R L W I N D.

First of all, while maybe the timing is a little off, this baby is so incredibly wanted and loved already. When we found out we were pregnant, (whilst I actually still don’t believe it) we were absolutely elated and adding a little mini-us to our team of weirdos is the best news.

Right, stop rambling, queue the actual *finding out* story:

My body is insane, TMI – my periods are so sporadic, it’s impossible to track anything and a few days late for me is NOTHING. However, on this occasion, I was two days late and just felt ‘weird.’ There is genuinely no other word for it and I remember lying in bed on said night and thinking ‘I’m pregnant.’

The next morning I woke up and thought it was just late night craziness, I couldn’t be pregnant – just forget about it. However, whilst out at lunch I decided that I would pick up a pregnancy test “just in case” – I was at work all day and was short staffed (my fault as I run my own business!) so I was running around like a crazy b*tch. I peed on the stick, put it back in it’s little packet and placed it in my bag, continued with work and completely forgot about it!!! (SO many people have asked how I could have possibly just forgotten about it, but honestly, I did)

Jump forwards an hour and a half, my restaurant is fully set and I have a minute of reflection – umm I should probably check the pee stick, right?! Well, there’s no mistaking this little gem, is there?!


*Queue the frantic phone call to my Mother*

‘You will NEVER guess what?!’ ‘…you’re pregnant’


We decided we would take a couple more tests together just to be sure – sitting in my house, waiting for the bloody egg timer to do it’s thing (I did not realise how long 3 minutes can be when it’s something as big as whether you are going to grow a human inside your body). My Mother decided she would video the egg timer’s impending result and was absolutely flabbergasted when she missed it (because of her heels being so loud that we didn’t hear the beep of the PT alarm) that she forgot to actually tell me what the result was?!?! “It says you’re PREGNAAAAAAAAAAANT!”

Three tests later and it was confirmed, Clearblue told me very efficiently that I was ‘Pregnant 1-2’ – it’s honestly amazing how your body just knows that something is out of the norm.

Honestly, this might be the most boring blog post some of you have EVER read but for me, this is about documenting all of these moments before a newborn comes and blows them all out of my head with their cuteness and perpetual crying.

Thank you for reading, guys. As I’ve said, the last 71 days have been a whirlwind and more blog posts will definitely follow including some week by week pregnancy updates, what they DO NOT TELL YOU about being pregnant and a few cute little scan pictures for good measure because this is an incredible experience (despite the throwing up!)

Nadine ♥