I’m seriously feeling the effects of being pregnant at (nearly) 40 as a working mum of 2! So much to do to get the house ready and organised, and the day to day stuff – ironing and washing and cleaning – doesn’t stop just cos there’s a bun in the oven! Every muscle in my body aches and I’m so tired but can’t go to bed when there’s so much to do, and can’t sleep when I do eventually get to bed!

Lots of pressure at work to complete some pretty big projects whilst losing hours to interview for my new team and my replacement. I need to have the energy and concentration I had pre-pregnancy to complete my workload so I can start to slow down, but that energy just isn’t there!

I had been feeling great. Positive, healthy, bright and even excited! Two weeks off over Christmas was just what I needed too, and it was great to be at home with the kids and not have anything to stress over other than what board game we might play or what pic to see at the cinema. But this week back at work has absolutely done me in. 4 full-on days including 2 with a commute to Leeds and I’m spent! But I have a deadline to meet for work that cannot be missed, so I’ve worked 11 hours today trying to get it done (without success). It was 10pm before I realised I hadn’t eaten lunch or dinner. Not good.

I just hope that this is short term pain for long term gain. I am ready for leaving work already 😔

And I don’t just mean the physical side!

Yesterday I was chatting to my boss about interviewing for my new team and how I hope to find my replacement among the interviewees. It feels like I’m running out of time, and I’m sooo tired I want to start slowing down but can’t until the team is in place. I still have 13 weeks to go until D-Day, but I can leave anytime from the 20th February to use my holidays so I don’t lose them. That’s only 5-6 weeks away!! Scary lol! My boss said not to worry if I don’t find my replacement among the applicants as we can look to bring in a contractor to cover me for 3-6 months. 3-6 months??!! I said “I could be off for up to a year”, to which he responded “I’m not letting you have a year off! I’m sure it was just a flippant, wishful thinking kind of comment, but good old ANT has been there ever since; “wow, I bet he’s regretting taking you on now! 12 months!! I bet he’s fuming!” I keep telling myself that it’s not my problem, that I have been open and honest from the start (in fact my boss was one of the first people that I told, long before there was any obligation for me to do so). I will shake it off. I’ve never given any indication that I expected to return to work early, so it’s not my fault if he has made that assumption.

However…I do feel guilty! They created this role with me in mind and had every opportunity to give the role to someone else without risking any discrimination concerns. I feel incredibly grateful for that, but must try and remember that I deserved to get the job too. I know I won’t allow the pressure to sway my own decisions, but really wish he hadn’t said it!

Then there’s the financial pressure. You see I was lucky enough to have saved enough to have been able to finance my year off with both my other children. That meant that my husband didn’t feel the financial pinch when I stopped providing my (not insignificant) share of the outgoings. This time it is different – this one wasn’t planned and therefore I haven’t been able to secure my financial independence to quite the same extent. Despite my husband earning significantly more than I do (when he gets a decent commission payment, because in fairness my recent promotion evened the stakes a little) he seems pretty indignant about the essential purchases that come with a new baby. He wants me to use the pram that we have in the garage that we used for the first two – it’s ok to look at, but let’s face it, technology has progressed somewhat in the last 10 years! Maybe he’s just kidding, but he’s mentioned it too many times now. When ANT gets her oar in I can find myself listening to her and she’s there whenever the subject of money comes up. “You got yourself into this mess so you can’t expect him to have to dig into his pockets!” And of course I know that’s not true. A) we both got into this ‘mess’ and B) as a partnership we have to work it out together, and C) I did my best with the first 2 so I shouldn’t feel guilty about not being able to help this time.

Well, there ends a rather moany blog! It’s been a rough couple of days. Back to work after 2 weeks off and I’m absolutely shattered! I will try and even up the score with a more positive blog tomorrow 😊

Note, ANT is the name I give to the voice in my head that likes to bring me down whenever she can – ‘Automatic Negative Thoughts’

Well, this baby sure is an active one! I don’t remember feeling half as much movement with my other 2 children. This one is certainly a mover! I’m 26 weeks pregnant now, and I’ve stopped counting the kicks because I keep losing count!

I wake up every morning around 4am needing the toilet (one of the joys of pregnancy) and as soon as I get back into bed she starts wriggling. It’s like I’ve changed the space by emptying my bladder and she has to get comfy again! As I am trying to sleep on my side now (as per medical advice, and my new Dreamgenii maternity pillow) it can be really uncomfortable as she wriggles into a new place. Generally I get back to sleep pretty quickly and I think she does too.

Alarm goes off at around 7:30, but I don’t really need to set it as I am either awakened by my 5-yr old son jumping into bed with me, or by my little wriggler, only now it is real ‘good morning’ kicks in the belly!

Throughout the day I get all sorts of movement – wriggles, squirming, somersaulting, kicking, hiccups, you name it! Often its a lovely feeling; like she’s reminding me that she’s there. Sometimes she gives me such a whack it takes me by surprise and I actually cry out! Sometimes it’s a horrible squirming feeling that makes me feel quite nauseous.

I can conjure a kick just by lying down on the sofa. As soon as I get comfy she’s guaranteed to come to life! I like that part as I lay and watch the movement inside my belly, transfixed with fascination. My daughter loves to watch too, and will place her hand on my bowling ball belly to feel the kicks.

At bedtime you can guarantee this little night owl will decide it is time to party! Just as I get comfy she starts to wriggle – not the nice, reassuring sweet little bumps, but full on turning over squirming movements that make me wriggle too! I’m not sure who gives in first but I do eventually fall asleep, although it has been known to be hours after I have taken myself to bed.

I don’t think I was as conscious of the movement with either of my previous pregnancies. In fact I tried not to think about it as the whole experience made me feel a bit off colour. But this time it fascinates me. I could lay forever watching my swollen belly for the ripples. What is she doing in there? What is she thinking? Is she thinking at all? Is she as excited to meet with the outside world as we are to meet with her? I’m going to miss this feeling, but can’t wait to hold her in my arms 😊

I wanted to post something uplifting and joyful, full of inspiration for the approach of the New Year. The fact is I feel pretty miserable today. Silly really because I have a lot to be thankful for and an exciting year ahead of me.

This is the first year since I was a teenager where I have nothing planned for tonight. Even last year with pneumonia I managed to rustle up a family get together. This year it’s just us; me, the husband and the kids at home, doing nothing. I guess we’ll be in bed before the New Year begins. I know it’s just one night, and it shouldn’t mean so much. I know that I should be able to find the joy in being at home with my nearest and dearest and accept that it is just another date on the calendar. But I can’t help but feel sad. Sad that all the people I usually see the New Year in with are off doing their thing this year and I’m not going to see them. Sad that I will probably be awake at midnight seeing the New Year in alone when the kids and husband are in bed. Sad that the little voice (that has been pretty quiet of late) is trying to make this all seem very significant – like some kind of a sign of things to come. Sadness and loneliness. It’s no way to see in the New Year.

Why not though? Why does it have to be all singing and dancing to be special? Surely that’s just habit – what we’ve always done. I will work hard today to see the good in a NYE spent alone with my little family, and try and stop these tears…

I have thought far too much.
I have wasted tears on people and things that did not deserve them.
I have concerned myself more than I ought with my perception of how other people perceive me.
I have given people the power to hurt me and allowed too much of my present to be governed by my past.
I have struggled with emotional challenges and faced demons that would see me crumble.
I have allowed the voice that tells me that I will never be good enough too much freedom.

This year, a metamorphosis began.
I learned to close the book of the past and look forward to a brighter future.
I accepted that I will never be everybody’s everything, but that I am something to a great deal of people.
I accepted that I cannot control what everyone thinks or what truth they choose to believe and that all I can do is my best to be kind and loving to those around me.
I realised that the only one who thinks I am not good enough is the lone voice inside my head, and I silenced her.

My children believe that I am the best mother in the world. My husband loves me more than any man ever has. My true friends know every shade of me from dark to light, and love me anyway.
I have decided to believe that I am good enough. And it doesn’t matter how many other people believe it, as long as I do.

2015 is a year of new beginnings for me in more ways than one. It is the year my family will be complete, and the year that I will allow myself to feel truly complete. No longer half a person living half a life, missing perfect moments whilst over-analysing the past. These past few months have shown me a glimpse of the joy that can be felt through living this precious life in the present. Thank you to all of those who have helped me get there.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I have turned a massive corner from when I started on this blogging journey. My transformation from blooming miserable to blooming marvellous happened much more quickly than I ever imagined. I’ve started buying pretty pink things, planning the nursery and generally feeling excited about the arrival of our little girl ☺️.

That said, I still can’t shake the feeling that I dare not dream. With every little item I buy, the moment of joy is quickly dampened by that voice. “Well that’s tempting fate isn’t it?”, “What are you going to do with that when you don’t have a baby to bring home?” I guess those feelings are natural. I expect most, if not all, expectant mothers share that anxiety. A few weeks ago the voice would have shouted loud enough to make sure I listened. She’d have repeated the words over and over until I put the thing back on the shelf. Christ, weeks ago that voice wouldn’t even allow me to enter a baby shop without overwhelming me with a sickness that left me dizzy. Today I hear her, but I tell her to bugger off! Yes, I know there are no guarantees that everything will be ok. I know that the risks associated with a low lying placenta and Group B Strep mean that I face potential complications. But is the health of my baby seriously going to be impacted by a pink bunny? Is my labour more likely to end in tears because of that cute floral dress? No. Que será será. What will be will be.

You see, I don’t think it matters that the voice is always there. I have to get used to that. What matters is how loud I let that voice be. She used to scream at me, over and over, until my ears rang. Now it’s just a whisper; just loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to disregard. I accept she will always have something to say – she is opinionated to say the least. But I am no longer giving her comments undeserved credence.

She can challenge me if she wishes, but she’d better be ready for a fight!