So I've got my head around the fact that I'm pregnant, that bit was quite quick, although the bump does sometimes still take me by surprise. However, after a recent Yogabellies session, when our teacher Nicki asked "what thoughts or worries do you have around becoming a mum?" I suddenly realised I hadn't yet processed that! Wait, what!? Me, a mum, a mother, a mamma?
So now time to think about this, I understand that for the next six months to a year I'll be a milk machine and tired that bit I've comes to terms with - I know I'll struggle at times and amaze myself at others, but then after that.... When our little Pickle becomes someone that will be moulded by us, by what I do and how we raise them? What sort of a mum will I be and how will I know what to do?
I'm a lucky one, I have an amazing mum, I know a lot of people will say that - which is good! I can't remember us not getting on, I know we've had our little arguments and a few raised words but it's never been unfriendly. I've always respected her and looked up to her. I can't remember how she did it or if I ever truly tested her - I've been told I was a good child - but I know that she has always been there for me and supported me. They even supported (and funded) my array of extra curricular activities: ballet, modern, tap, jazz, figure ice skating, singing, drums, guitar, piano lessons, drama club, hockey and track competitions for county! Gosh that is a ridiculous list, it wasn't all at once though! I hope Pickle doesn’t want to do all these!
Now as an adult, I consider my mum a friend, not only can she party harder than I can (I'm referring to pre-pregnancy) but she is that friend I can always turn to, as my mum and my friend, she is often my go to girl!
I guess she got some of that from her mum, my Gardy (name made up by me, moving on...) who was also supportive and funny, having a firm but fair way about her.
This photo is of my parents and grandparents (mum's side) bringing me home from the hospital, we shall be recreating this photo when we bring Pickle home. I miss my grandparents so much and wish they could meet what would be their first great grandchild. Pickle's four grandparents have a lot to live up to, but I know they'll surpass all expectations.
I guess I just have to do what I think it right as a new mum, Robbie and I are a team and we are on the same wavelength in terms of most things. We have the same views on the initial stages of raising and keeping a tiny human alive, so I see that continuing to Pickle becoming a toddler and beyond. Having a great network of amazing mums in the friends around me and those going through the same things we be a great help.
It's such a big job - being a mum - but I have the best support around me, an unconditional love for this bump and am willing and open to all advise, send it my way.
As we approach the third and final trimester (yay) I’ve been thinking back to the exciting, but scary first trimester. I know that the whole journey to parenthood, however its done, has its ups and downs but those first 12 weeks are tough, well they were for me.
We found out we were pregnant at five weeks, so that was already a good chunk of the way through, but those following weeks were hard. Robbie and I had decided not to tell anyone until after the 12 week scan, it was our little secret, which made it even harder but we knew it was the right decision for us. After getting our positive test results on the Saturday, I called the doctors early on Monday morning and then had to wait another two weeks for my appointment, week seven! I’d hoped they would do another test, just to be sure but nope! The nurse took some information and arranged my booking appointment for another two weeks later. I was beginning to see that being pregnant was going to involve lots of waiting!
The booking appointment was great, Debbie our midwife came to the house, she was lovely and I felt relaxed with her. We went through our relevant medical history and that of our families, she explained a little more about what appointments we would be having and took some bloods. Now usually I’m fine with this, but in my excitement I’d forgotten to eat breakfast so ended up laying on the sofa, looking all shades of pale. A banana and some water later I was fine - now I take some sweets with me to each appointment and have them in the car beforehand, just in case. Debbie left our folder, a now very important and always growing file, which travels with me at all times.
Now the countdown really begins, all eyes on the prize - the 12 week scan.
I had a big blip at the end of week 10, I’d been feeling sick, had sore boobs and was asleep on the sofa by 7pm for the past few months and then it all stopped, I didn’t feel pregnant and I was terrified. I was on the train to London for an early morning meeting and I couldn’t stop thinking the worse, I was just trying not to cry. At 8.02am I thought this was a reasonable time to message Debbie, telling her of my worries and apologising for being a pain - I hated the thought of be the annoying mum to be on her rota, but I was scared and need reassurance. She replied quickly, saying that it was very common for early pregnancy symptoms to subside as the second trimester gets closer. I felt relieved for a while but the pangs of dread returned every now and again, talking to Robbie always made me feel better but I didn’t was to go full on crazy pregnant lady just yet - I hoped to have many months left to do this. I just had to stay positive and be patient.
On a Monday, at the end of April our appointment we had our much longed for 12 week scan. It was booked in for midday, I told a little white lie to my boss (having an appointment for “girly stuff”) and met Robbie at the hospital. Having been at work all morning I hadn’t really had time to think about the scan, but sitting in the waiting room gave the excitement and nerves time to build. I laid there just staring at the ceiling as the sonographer got everything really, I was telling myself to be patient, it might take some time for them to find the baby, it will all be ok, don’t panic, breath... and then she said “well you can look at the screen, that’s your baby”. I couldn’t believe it, there it was our tiny baby, with its tiny heart, on a giant screen. I cried, I’m crying now, I just kept looking between the screen and Robbie. It was such a sense of relief, we’d done it. After a few more tears and lots of smiles she asked if we had any questions, Robbie asked if we could find out if the baby was going to have ginger hair, I thought this was hilarious but she thought it was a serious question and informed us that it wouldn’t be possible.
We weren’t yet ready to return to work, so went for a quick lunch to process what had just happened, we were so happy and we finally allowed ourselves to talk about our lives as parents to be. This was a huge milestone and we’d done it, together we’d got there. Now to work out how to tell everyone.
Robbie I became an auntie and uncle to a beautiful baby girl just over a year ago. We watched her growing in her mummy’s tummy, but it wasn’t until we met her, held her and looked into her huge blue eyes, that we realised that we really did want a family - and quite soon! This wasn’t in our plan, well not for a while. I was looking to move careers after completing a School Business Mangers Diploma which would have put baby plans back for a year at least. But with our new realisation, we had to rethink and that was fine with us.
We were getting married a few months later in June, then had our honeymoon to Italy in August, then had Tough Mudder - which I had really been training for. So that took us to October and I wanted one last “it’s ok to be hungover” Christmas. The plan was (you might have already realised I like plans) to start trying in January, I was expecting it to take us quite a while to be successful. My mum had struggled to get pregnant with me and again later when they wanted to get me a little sibling, James arrived seven years later! So with this in mind I tried not to get my hopes up! Well that didn’t happen, I cried when we did almost all of the four negative pregnancy tests, even saying to myself “it’s going be negative” as we turned it over. By the time my body decided to confirm that we weren’t pregnant first time round, I had a little bit of panic, but talked it through with Robbie and we knew it was going to be unlikely for the very first time we tried.
When I turned the pregnancy test over for month two I tried to have the same low expectations. Robbie was however more positive. Standing in the hallway early on a Saturday morning I looked in total confusion to Robbie and ran to the bathroom to collect the instructions for the test. We had already looked at the results diagram so many times we knew what it meant, but the shock of seeing a little blue cross had astonished and confused me! I was shaking and crying and just looking at Robbie. It was positive and it was amazing!
Robbie then had to go and get his haircut, both of us feeling very strange and I didn't want him to leave. I just walked around the house, telling Bruce and Eddie our news. I decided I'd do another test, this one clearly stated PREGNANT even telling me 2-3 weeks. Trying to keep as calm as possible I had a normal few hours until Robbie returned and I showed him the two tests side by side, it was excitement all over again.
That evening we went to see Joe Lycett's stand up in Worthing, having diner and drinks beforehand. For the first time I was totally fine with driving, not drinking and not eating the medium cooked amazing steak burger I'd planned to enjoy. I was pregnant, growing a little human inside me and I didn't care what I had to avoid eating and drinking. We discussed the fact that we wouldn't tell anyone until we were 12 weeks. I remember feeling almost naughty talking about the fact I was pregnant in the restaurant.
We were on such a high - we were growing our family - we were pregnant!
I have always been fascinated by weddings; marrying my true love, hunting for the dress, all that planning and organisation. For me, that sounds amazing, what could be more fun?
Now almost a year into my engaged life and I'm still enjoying every minute. I have established an unhealthy obsession with Pinterest, amounted a pile of wedding magazines (the value of which might have been better spent on the actual wedding) and created some truly epic spreadsheets. I'm not surprised that I've enjoyed all those things, but I am surprised at how much fun I've had thinking of the homemade elements I can make and sharing my ideas with my handsome fiancé. On paper he is by far the more creative and arty one, he studied art and history at university and is a talented musician. I on the other hand studied business and although I've dabbled in almost every instrument I could get my hands on (to the detriment of my poor parents bank account and ears) I'm no musician. I have however always been creative; my mum was a seamstress and when on holiday, I used to go to her studio and make bags from all the leftover scraps of materials. I loved it. I saw myself as a mini interior designer and was always rearranging my bedroom at home, painting, reprinting and then wallpapering all over it.
We brought our fist house two years ago and I couldn't wait to start designing and decorating it. Luckily my taller half has similar (excellent) taste and he didn't mind me "accidentally" buying Annie Sloan painted furniture from 100 miles away - well it was a lovely wine rack! Combined with finding Hobby Craft and Pinterest, my love of all things DIY started!
I'm a happily married 30 something who has a fondness for planning and organising, an appreciation for spreadsheets, a love of all things wedding, a passion for DIY and am totally smitten with our two cats Bruce and Eddie.