The Precious Moments in Life

Every so often in life, we have moments which humble us to our very core and remind us just how lucky we are. Today, I had one of those moments.

Life has been thoroughly exhausting recently between looking after a very likely 7 month old baby and battling my own mental health demons. I’ve also handed in my return to work date (absolutely terrifying!) and begun reorganising my life.

My 7 month old daughter Adalyn – who I have discussed in previous posts –  has been learning to walk and crawl, but has also been unwell with an infection and is teething (WHY does nobody warn you about how brutal teething is?!), and as a result has demanded my every waking moment. It’s felt like I’ve been awake 24 hours a day for the past week! And you know what? I probably have been.. I’ve been up for so long that it’s hard to tell when I’ve actually slept.

I’ve been surviving off of junk food and Red Bull, to the point that I should probably have shares in their company! Red Bull is supposed to give you wings but I’m still waiting on mine! 

Today though I reached the point of sheer exhaustion and desperation. After a good but exhausting morning at baby massage, then a busy (and even more exhausting) afternoon visiting my 85 year old grandmother who has vascular dementia and didn’t have a clue who we were, I spoke to Adalyn’s dad and asked if we could come round to his at around 4pm.. So that’s exactly what we did. 

Adalyn was screaming and exhausted, quite frankly I felt the same, so after a quick hello to Grant.. and after Adalyn had finished smooching herself in the mirror (ive never met a baby who loves themselves more than my Adalyn!).. I asked if it would be OK for us all to just climb into Grant’s bed for a lie down. 

Adalyn drank her bottle and began dosing off, but still fought it to the bitter end. Her eyes would roll then close, only for her to startle and fight to open her eyes. This went on for a good 15 minutes. 

Grant and I lay on either side of the bed, with Adalyn in the middle between us. We each held one of Adalyn’s hands to help soothe her to sleep.

As I lay there, I watched the way Grant admired Adalyn with complete awe and love. It filled my heart to the brim. He sat and smiled like she was the greatest thing he’d ever seen, and to be honest that’s probably true.. But I knew better than to ruin the moment and ask him! 

It humbled me completely, but it also made me realise just how good my life actually is. 

I lay there and marvelled at Adalyn, and still am now whilst writing this. It’s incredible that two human beings could create such a perfect and innocent human being- and yes, I’m aware of how biased I am but to me Adalyn is absolutely perfect. 

Grant does everything he can to be a good dad.. And I’d say he’s doing a great job. Although I would never admit that to him! Regardless of our history and the heartbreak I’ve been through, I can’t fault him at all for how well he’s doing. Although I know for fact Adalyn will have him wrapped round her little finger, she pretty much already does. 

I’m very lucky to have such a beautiful daughter and that her dad is so helpful. I know not all mums are lucky enough to have that. I’m lucky to even call myself a mum due to my severe fertility problems. 

I’ve had so many people ask me recently if grant and I are back together, to which I’ve always said no. Truthfully I don’t have a clue what’s going on but I’m just “going with the flow” and just seeing where life takes us, but I don’t want to put a label on it. 

I love Grant and Adalyn very much and can’t believe how well things are coming together. We have got this co-parenting business NAILED. 

Oh, and of course I fell asleep in Grant’s bed.. Snuggled in with my daughter and him, with a smile on my face and feeling like the happiest and luckiest woman alive. For a brief moment, all my troubles and worries disappeared, and everything was perfect. 



Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s my mental health…

I’m the first to admit that I can fly off the handle easily.. I always have done and always will be. 

But if there’s one thing that bothers me most, it’s indirect comments about my mental health. 

Telling me I’m “miserable” or a “miserable cow” isn’t something I can deal with easily, yes I may look miserable but the fact of the matter is that I’m suffering badly from depression. Am I supposed to have a false smile plastered on my face?  

Ive had a really hard time recently and frankly any comments about my emotional state will bother me. 

I spend most of my time trying to act happy, or at least act “normal”.

Mental health is seriously played down ny both the people who are suffering but also by the people surrounding them. It’s so frustrating when people say things like “you just need to be strong” or “you just need to look at the positives”. If it were that easy, I probably wouldn’t be suffering half as badly as I am. If I could do that, believe me I would. It’s not fun being this unhappy. 

If you can’t think of anything to say, why not just say something along the lines of “I’m here for you” and that you’ll help me through. 

I know it must be frustrating when you don’t know how to help someone who’s suffering, but just don’t make unhelpful comments. In fact, gestures speak louder than words. Why not just run them a hot bath or do something you know they’ll enjoy. 

Whatever you do, just be mindful. I don’t mean to fly off the handle, but stating the obvious about my mental state is juse pointless. 

Maybe that’s just me though… 


Two weeks ago, I had a miscarriage.. And it’s shattered me to my core.

It’s a subject that’s often avoided like the plague, but the reality of it is that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in loss. 

The pregnancy wasn’t planned and truthfully came as a huge shock. Im on the pill (Norethisterone) and take it religiously every day.. But as we all know – and i’ve now experienced first hand – contraception doesn’t always work. 

When I took the test, my initial reaction was “oh fuck, how am I ever going to manage with 2 kids under two” and I just totally panicked. But I knew if it was meant to be then it would be…

But clearly it wasn’t. 

Before I had found the courage to tell the baby’s dad, I began to miscarry. 

The pain, bleeding, clots and passing of the baby are memories that will stay with me forever. 

I didn’t realise just how much I wanted another baby until I lost it. And truthfully the guilt of that will haunt me forever.

I eventually told the dad a week later.. He just shut down and refused to talk about it, but eventually messaged me the next day to ask how far along I was. All I wanted more than anything was to talk about it and hear some supportive words. 

He still won’t talk about it. 

I can understand why he refuses to talk about it- it was as big a loss to him as it is to me. Thats his way of dealing with it.. His way of grieving for a baby that will never be. 

It’s made me realise how much I do want another child though, how much I want a sibling for my daughter. But it’s a topic I feel I won’t be able to approach for a long time as my partner is so broken by the experience. 

I’ve not been sleeping as I just keep thinking about everything that’s happened and everything that could have been. 

Miscarriage is a topic we should be able to discuss more openly and comfortably, but society doesn’t like it. Instead we must carry the burden alone and find our own ways of coping. 

It hurts so much… 

The Truth

The Truth in life is that we all spend our time trying to “act fine” and be “normal”. 

Tonight is a prime example in my life where I’ve done this. I’ve been very nervous around someone but tried to act fine.. And of course drank wine for some “Dutch Courage”. The result?  Me looking and feeling like a complete idiot. 

I’m awkward at the best of times. My anxiety always get the better of me. Recently things have been hard and as a result I try to over-compensate with the world’s worst small talk and over-enthusiastic smiles that make me look like a complete maniac. So, as you can imagine, a night with my daughters dad and his brother only resulted in me making a fool of myself trying to act normal with the brother. 

I spend most of my life acting fine though- even on social media. On my main Facebook, twitter and snapchat accounts I try to keep things light-hearted and happy.. Most days it couldn’t be further from the truth. 

It’s the same when I meet people in public. I try to act fine and smile, even when I’m having a complete meltdown of panic and just want the ground to swallow me up. 

But why do I act like this?  And why can’t I juse tell people the truth.

Honestly, it’s due to other people’s experiences.. I’ve seen a few (brave) people write statuses on social media about their battles with mental health and life. Along with the outpour of support, there’s always people who are quick to say that people who open up are “looking for attention” and “making it up”.

I wish I had the courage and bravery to open up like other people, but I fear too much of being judged and the negative reactions that I’d recieve. 

Why is it such taboo to open up? And why is society so judgemental? 

The truth will always be there. But for now, my truth will stay hidden. I will continue to act fine and hide how I really feel, telling only the necessary details to those who need to know. 

Perhaps one day society will change. Perhaps one day I will be brave.. Just not today. 


My darling daughter, 

Honestly I don’t know where to begin. Truthfully I hate these posts, because the reality of it is that every parent (understandably) thinks that their kid is the best thing since sliced bread. 

Of course as a parent we burst with pride at every little thing our children do and want to share it with the world.. That’s our job in life!  

And this is a post dedicated to my beautiful daughter Adalyn; who has saved me more than she will ever know, and who continues to make me burst with pride every single day.

Adalyn is my little ray of sunshine. Her smiles light up the darkest corners of rooms and her laugh is the most infectious I’ve ever come across. Even in my darkest days, Adalyn can get me to smile again. 

Truthfully, I never knew that one tiny human could have such a big impact on my life, especially because she’s only just turned 7 months old! I love you more and more each day… *soppy emotions Alert!!!*

You’re crawling, you’re walking holding hands, you’re meeting and exceeding all of your milestones… In my eyes you’re the most perfect human being who gives me a reason to live. 

Of course, you can be a right little diva though, but I suppose we are all guilty of having our moments.. Although you definitely don’t get that temper from your mum 😉

From being just sat down and told all those years ago that I’d never be able to have children, to now having my beautiful miracle of a daughter. 

Not everyone is as lucky as me. I got my miracle. My saviour. 

So to my daughter Adalyn, thankyou for always finding a way of cheering me up. I’m so incredibly proud of everything you do. I’ll always be behind you 100% of the way and I promise I will do my very best for you. You’re doing so well and learning new things every single day and warming the icy hearts of many along the way. 

Just keep being you, kid. 

Lots of love,


Aka- mum. 


Days Like Today

It’s been a while since my last post, and a lot has been happening. 

My cpn (community psychiatric nurse) left without warning. It couldn’t have come at a more difficult time. I had finally begun to trust her and share with her my deepest and most difficult memories of my childhood and of the vile sexual abuse I encountered. 

It’s taken me years to forget the things that happened in my life and now I need to face the darkest demons. 

I’ll apologise now as this blog post will be scattered. I’m trying to process my thoughts. 

I seen my psychiatrist today. I also seen my gp. I also met with my new cpn. It’s been overwhelming and I’m left feeling raw. 

My life is a disaster at present and I don’t know how to fix things. I don’t see how things will get better. I’ve hit a crisis. 

How am I supposed to look after a child?  I can’t even look after myself. Who do I turn to? Where do I go? What happens next? 

Depression and anxiety are crippling my life. I’ve succumb to their wicked ways. Days like today make me feel like I can’t go on, I don’t want to go on. But I have to. 

Flashbacks and trauma have got the better of me today. Remembering the vile acts and the sickening rape. 

I had a panic attack today. The world was closing in on my shoulders. I’m embarrassed and ashamed. I never wanted to be seen this way. 

I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I can’t even think straight. 

Days like today my anxiety and depression win. I’m isolated and alone. 

Maybe tomorrow will be different. There are good days and bad days after all. 

But today I want to feel numb. 

The Diary of a Single Mum

Awoken by the cries of my 6 month old, I stare blearily at my phone for the time: 12.47am. With a yawn I haul myself out of bed, again.

I pad my way to the kitchen, lifting each foot heavily in front of the other and my eyes barely open. I kick into autopilot to make another bottle. I count the scoops, arse it up, then count them again before finally tipping them into bottle and adding the water.

Again I pad my way to the nursery and begin to change then feed my 6 month old who guzzles the bottle like a hungry little piranha. 

I do my best to stay awake, sitting nursing her on a chair next to the cot and fighting the temptation to close my eyes. Once she finishes the bottle I lay her in the cot trying to settle her back to sleep.

She babbles and grabs my hand, and looks me in the eye with a loving smile.

I may be tired, I may be sleep deprived, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I remember a few years ago before having my daughter, I watched a documentary about parenting – with my (now ex) partner – and uttering the phrase “I could never be a single mum, I don’t know how single parents cope!”, and I still agree with that statement.. But now I am a single parent. 

I can honestly say it’s the hardest but most rewarding job in the world. 

I am the cook, the cleaner, the nurse,  the handyman and the mum. I am the one who does everything. But whose to say thats a bad thing? 

Yes it’s hard, yes I doubt myself, yes there are days where I feel like I can’t do it.. But I am doing it. 

I look after a very needy tiny human who is basically a miniature version of myself, but I get to raise her my way and steal the extra cuddles.

As I stare at my daughter now, I remind myself that I may not always get things right in life but I’m doing the best I can and want to make this tiny human proud. 

To the single parents out there, I salute you. You are doing great and you are not alone. 


An Open Letter to My Daughter

To my darling daughter,

So far you’re 6 months old. And honestly I could not be prouder.

Before you were born, I made a promise to myself. A promise that I would always do my best for you, no matter what.

So far, I think that’s true. I won’t lie, it’s been a difficult six months. You came into this world kicking and screaming and my whole world changed forever. I won’t lie and say that it’s been easy, but you make every single minute of every day worthwhile. 

The first few weeks were hard. You had me ran ragged. All you did was sleep, eat, poo and cry… Especially cry. Although after we discovered your milk allergy and got you changed onto the right milk things got a bit easier.

Your dad left us when you were 10 weeks old. It broke my heart. Things got much more difficult after that. 

But you know what kept me going?  You. Your every smile, your every laugh, your every babble.. Even your ever fart.

You light up the darkest of room with your cheeky smile. You give me reasons to keep going when things are tough.

You’re trying to figure out how to call now, although prefer laying on your back and doing the worm to get from A to B. There will be no stopping you soon! I’m already having to pin you down to change your nappy. 

My darling girl, each day I see advances in your denvelopment and each day I don’t think I could  get any prouder- but then tomorrow will come and you’ll prove me wrong. 

I will make mistakes, and I’m sure there will be plenty of times we will fall out, but remember I’m doing my best and I love you. In fact I didn’t know it was possible to love another human being so much until you came along.

Baby girl, just keep being you. Keep being my cheeky little monster.

 Follow your dreams and know I’ll support you. I will be behind you every step of the way.
All my love, 

Mum x

The “Mean Girl” Mums. 

Have you ever watched the film ‘Mean Girls ‘? If not, its basically a teen comedy film made in 2004 where a teenage girl named Cady (played by Lindsay Logan) moves from South Africa to Illinois where she gets to experience High School and the bitchy cliques that come with it.

Well tonight I was reminded of that group when I was on an advice page for parents that was discussing unique baby names.

It’s a hot topic that gained literally hundreds of comments. So many parents were keen to show off pictures of their offspring and their names.

There were some truly beautifully names appearing like Caoimhe (pronounced Keeva), Harrison, Kai, Dixie.. So many to choose from in fact.

Of course there were some names that many might find controversial.. And one woman commented that her daughter was named Princess.

Now this raises my next question.. Who’s fucking business is it what someone chooses to call their baby?

In my opinion.. Nobody’s. Unless someone tries to call their child something really wild like “tampon” then why should we care. If the parent is happy then who are we to judge? 

Apparently I don’t think the same what as other people though. This poor woman got jumped on and ridiculed for calling her child Princess.. Some laughing at her, others ridiculing the grammar of the comments.. Some people even going as far as saying she had ruined the childs life and that the child will grow up hating her. 

It was like lions setting on their prey and going in for the kill. This woman got hounded good and proper and her whole life ripped to bits by other mums who had never even met her. 

What. The. Fuck.

Since when did we become such a horrible society?  You’d have thought that this poor woman had just announced that she had committed a serious crime. 

We are all adults, so when the fuck are we going to start acting like it? Mums should be supporting and helping each other.. Not taking the piss out of each others kids and the names that their parents have given them.

It’s 2017, grow up and stop acting like we’re back in high school. 

My daughters name is Adalyn, does that mean she will grow up hating me? Doubt it.

So to the “Mean Girl” Mums I say this, grease your shoes and slide on because your comments are intimidating, vicious and worthless. 

And for the record, I think that baby Princess is beautiful.. And her mumma should be proud. 


Remembering who you are..

There are times in life you may feel like you have nothing, when in actual fact you have everything you will ever need.

At the age of 22 here I am; I have my own house which overlooks the sea, my own car which I own outright, a dog, a career in Nursing and a beautiful 5 month old daughter who’s smile could brighten the darkest corners of the earth. 

My life isn’t perfect, but I’m yet to meet anybody who’s is. What is “perfect” anyway? 

My childhood is not one that I want to remember.. Trauma and sexual abuse that will scar me for a lifetime. Slowly but surely, the forbidden memories that are my childhood are beginning to bubble back to the surface one by one, leaving me with some days where I can’t cope.. Or for a better term, days where I don’t know how to cope. 

My teen years were filled with their fair share of heartache. Meeting my first love, having boyfriends, battling my way through high school, being told I would never be able to have children, being bullied and beaten, sitting (and failing) exams, drinking, exploring drugs and just generally experiencing a wild few years.

At the age of 17 though, my life changed forever. Shortly after passing my driving test (God only knows how!) I met my soulmate. 

We met at a beach party but didn’t hit things off right away. In actual fact, I remember calling him an arsehole and muttering to my friends how much of a twat he seemed. But sure enough, we got talking and fell in love. 

I moved in with him into a small little flat and we muddled our way through, often with no money and having to live off of baked beans for weeks on end. 

I got the grades I needed to go to university and so I did. I studied nursing for 3 years, working numerous jobs as well as being full time at university, muddling along trying to keep my head above water and trying to keep our household afloat. 

2015 came and I graduated as an Adult Nurse at the age of 20. My relationship with my partner hit the rocks and he left me. 

Copious amounts of alcohol and a broken heart later, and not to mention having to move back in with my parents, I landed myself a job as a nurse and began getting my life back on track. 

However this was not the end, in 2016 our paths met again and we decided to make things work. In time, I moved back in and we were better than ever. I fell pregnant with my miracle baby girl and thought that life would be perfect. Pah, how naive. 

In February 2017 my daughter was born weighing a whopping 9lbs 4Oz. We gave her the middle name Hope, as a symbolic gesture to always have hope. 

Things were tough. And I mean tough. My newborn daughter was in and out of hospital, I had developed severe post natal depression along with anxiety and refused to accept that this baby was mine. In fact I was adament that I was babysitting someone else’s baby and I just hated this baby. Things took a sour turn and my partner tried to kill himself, before choosing to leave me and my daughter once again. At the same time, the awful memories from my childhood began to surface and take their toll on my mental health. 

Things were awful, I can’t even lie about that. But I once again muddled on. I sought help and began bonding with this baby who had turned my world upside down.. I waded through the endless nappy changes and sleepless nights. I held her close and tried to soothe her when she was unwell. I spent (and still do) many days wandering about looking like a zombie, but with the added glamour of being covered in baby sick/pee/poo/dribble or if I’m really lucky, a combination of all 4. London fashion week ain’t got nothing on my glamorous “mum clothes”.

 I did everything I could, and in the darkest hour of the darkest day, my daughter got me through. Her smile lit up my whole life, and gave me hope once again. 

Slowly, I began to build a relationship back up with her dad. I don’t know where it will lead but for now I’m happy and we are friends. We don’t agree on everything, but we compromise to make sure we do what’s best for our daughter. 

It’s not all fun and games.. I battle my demons on a daily basis, but I’m determined to make sure my girl never experiences a childhood like mine. She does give me hope after all. 

Being a single parent is fucking hard work.. But it’s worth it. It’s worth every last tear, every last tantrum and every last sleep deprived night. 

Some days are easy, others are impossible.. But you will get through. 

Things have been very difficult.. And lately ive been just trying to take each day as it comes, but tonight I sat down for the first time in months and actually looked at my life.

I’ve been very tough on myself and definitely don’t give myself enough credit. I’ve felt like I have nothing, but really I’ve got everything some people could ask for. I’m very lucky to have the life that I have.

But do remember, nobody’s life is perfect. And we are all human. 

I’ve taken time to remember who I am, and I’m glad I did. I’ve achieved more than I could every have hoped to achieve in the 22 short years I’ve been on this planet.