Thanks for stopping by to read my blog. I guess I should share a bit about myself and why I decided to write a blog in the first place.
I’m 33 years old. I have a daughter who’s 4 and a husband who’s 37. We live in Bristol, after having lived in the beautiful City of Bath our whole lives we decided to move to Bristol when the opportunity to be closer to my mum came up in 2018.
Before I had my daughter in 2016 I endured a long, painful and somewhat dark, pregnancy, that I was sure was going to kill me after causing me a nervous breakdown. And when I was told at 37 weeks I had preeclampsia, it nearly did.
I hated being pregnant, detested it. The shame I felt over not being ‘grateful’ for this ‘gift’ really damaged my mental health. I was immobile due to SPD (Symphis, pubic, dysfunction) I had to give up the things I enjoyed and I felt deprived. I felt constantly sick and was often incapacitated with migraines that lasted days. From 16 weeks I was on crutches and by 25 weeks, in a wheelchair, the depression escalated.
When my beautiful baby girl was born, I was sure that would be the end of the stress, (naive eh?) All was not well when we found out she was born addicted to antidepressant medication I was taking during pregnancy, medication I was advised was safe. Ciara was in NICU for 10 days, leaving me helpless, crippled by guilt and useless to her. But the trauma didn’t end there, we brought her home and what we were told was colic started.
For 12-15 hours a day every day, my kid screamed. She screamed so loudly our neighbours had to come and check she was ok, more than once. My then partner (now husband) and I, almost killed each other. I couldn’t wait for time away from her, ergo prompting more guilt and shame. Was I a terrible mother?
Then, from nowhere something amazing happened, she turned 9 months old, she started sleeping, napping twice a day and laughing. And that laugh, that tiny little cackle of a laugh is what saved me. What saved our family.
Our little diva still has the occasional tantrum and is full of ‘tude, you know, the usual. But it doesn’t matter, because nothing, nothing, is as bad as the 12-15 hours a day screaming was.
Since having our daughter our family bond cemented. We are a family of three (plus a puppy and a cat) and we’re now expecting our second child, I won’t go into detail about this pregnancy here, but read my posts to find out more. Currently surviving on love and wotsits.
I’ve always loved to write, it’s served as an outlet for me throughout my life. In my teen years it was dark poetry and gritty half novels, and in my adult years it’s been my thoughts, life events and opinions, thus creating this blog.
I’m also currently penning my first domestic novel in an attempt to follow my dream of writing a book.
After our daughter was born I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a neuropathic pain condition that affects our neurotransmitters and how our brain perceives pain. I’ve suffered with chronic pain my whole life, I have Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder too, which is a mental health condition like PMS, but tenfold. Doctors think trauma of pregnancy and childbirth really upped the ante for my ill health. Add this to the already debilitating chronic migraines and hormone imbalance I have, and it’s a hard fight.
Some days I am unable to get out of my bed, lift my child, cook a meal, some days I can’t even take a shower, but still I fight. The fight is long, and I often feel like giving up, but instead I write. I write everything down, from the good to the bad and ugly. I use Instagram and Facebook to spread awareness of causes close to my heart. Trying to keep it real and remind us that just because you don’t see something on the surface doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
And that’s about it really. I’ve replaced wild nights out with copious amounts of tea drinking, along with moaning and swearing, lots! I also love, love, love, to read.
On that note, I hope you enjoy reading my blog.