I'm baaaaack!

I know. It's been such a long time since I posted on here.

Pregnancy is new to me and I've learnt a few lessons over the past few weeks.

Mainly, that being pregnant is incredibly tiring! I've been so tired. I've had no energy. I've felt nauseous to the point of wanting the world to open up and swallow me... and yet, I feel like the luckiest woman alive!

I'm feeling much more like my usual self now and I'm beginning to get my energy back - a great reason to celebrate!

Anyway, while I was away, wedged somewhere between my ample sofa cushions, I've been touched and heartened by several messages from some lovely ladies who I've 'met' in the cyber-inter-global-hyper-mega-web world, letting me know that they've noticed my absence and wishing me well. You know who you are and I thank you from my heart's bottom.

OK, so I'll leave this post for the time being... But I just wanted to give a big wave hello and step, tentatively, back into the world of blogging, gently!

I'll be back for more!

Soon-to-be-Mummy B

Sore body parts

Ouch!

I know it's seriously early in my pregnancy (I'm five weeks today!) but some of the symptoms of early pregnancy are already setting in with a vengeance!

I'm feeling slightly bloated and have begun to lose my appetite around 4pm every day (no sign of the dreaded nausea yet *touches wood and whistles*) but the one thing that has really set me on edge this week has been the soreness of a certain part of my anatomy... my, erm... well, my *coughs uncomfortably*... my... OK, OK, my boobs!

I have the sorest boobs in the whole world!

According to the amazing pregancy book I'm reading at the moment - What to expect when you're expecting - I should be experiencing some breast pain... In fact, and I quote:

"Tender breasts and nipples. You know that tender, achy feeling you get in your breasts before you period arrives? That's nothing compared to the breast tenderness you might be feeling post-conception." What to expect when you're expecting, Heidi Murkoff, p14.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - ouch! This is definitely no ordinary soreness. I'm having problems doing ordinary, everyday things, purely due to the soreness of my pups.

It hurts to walk... so it would definitely hurt to run (not that I'm a runner, but this is just one more excuse not to take it up now!)
It hurts to turn over in bed.
It hurts to walk up the stairs any slower than at snail's pace.
It hurts to walk down the stairs full stop.
It hurts to lift anything.
It hurts to clap (who knew!)
Flippin' heck, it even hurts to laugh sometimes!

How can two such innocuous items cause so much pain!? I have to say, this is one aspect of pregnancy I definitely wasn't expecting! (I'm sure there will be many more that I'll find out about over the next eight months or so!).

But, by way of making me feel better, Ms Murkoff adds:

"...and as your pregnancy progresses, it could get even more pronounced. Make that a lot more pronounced."

GREAT!

A very tender Potential Mummy B

The happy side of me!

I was recently tagged in a fab Meme by Josie from Sleep is for the Weak and BNM from BareNakedMummy - thank you so much for that, I love being tagged, it doesn't happen very often!!

Anyway, for regular readers of my blog, I'd very much like to point out that I'm really quite a happy little being in 'real life'... although I am aware that a fair few of my recent posts have been a little sad in nature. So that's why I'm so glad to get this tag - a chance to write about good stuff.

After much deliberation, I deliver to you, ten things that make me happy...

1) Scented candles

I love to walk into a room and smell a yummy, fresh smelling candle - whether lit or not. To me, a home should smell of something lovely and my favourite of the moment is vanilla.

2) The smell of clean bed linen
There is not much lovelier than slipping into a freshly washed and ironed bed next to my gorgeous hubs. If I had a maid, that would be her main task - changing my bed every day so I could enjoy that feeling every time bedtime came around... heaven!

3) Singing at the top of my lungs
I L.O.V.E. to sing. I sing in the shower, in the kitchen, in the car, while I'm walking places with my iPod... I love to sing just about anything. I find it lifts my spirits. I know I'm really unhappy when I don't feel the desperate pull to sing along to whatever CD I have in my car stereo... What makes me happiest at the moment is singing along to Wicked the Musical - I adore it, and have for a few years now. I know it inside out and it's just tough if you're with me and you've never heard it before - you won't hear it above me... Mwa ha ha!

4) Bacon and egg sarnies
This delicious invention of culinary yumminess has to be right at the very top of my 'favourite sandwiches' list. Whatever the day, whatever the hour, I could always readily get myself on the outside of one of these beauties! And I like mine naked! (Not me, the sandwich!) No sauces, no butter, just pure, unadulterated bacon and runny egg... *dribbles slightly at the thought*

5) Birthdays
This may have something to do with yesterday being my birthday, but in general, as long as it's someone who I love's birthday, I just love it! It's a special day and the birthday boy or girl should be made to feel loved and special. I was. And I loved it!

6) Being pregnant
An obvious one perhaps, after Saturday's post but it makes me happy. This is my list, so I'm including it. I feel so serene and content with my life and I'm exactly where I want to be. I couldn't be happier! That is all.

7) Finishing a piece of writing
No matter how much of a mountain to climb a piece of writing may seem when one sets out to start, when the summit is reached and a re-read is done, there is not much that beats the feeling of having completed a good bit of writing. It's a great feeling - I just wish it would happen more often! ;o)

8) The sea
I adore living so close to the sea. Even as I type I can see a tiny peek of the sea from my office window. I'm not much of a fan of being on the sea, but I love to be next to it. When I remove my shoes and walk bare-foot on the sand, as cold as the North Sea is, I still love to have a good old 'plodge'. When I've needed to think, clear my thoughts and really work something out, I've headed to my local beach to stomp and splash my way along the shoreline. Nothing cleanses the soul like a refreshing paddle in the sea...

9) A good cup of tea
Call me quintessentially English, but there are not many things that go with almost everything, as does a cup of tea. It goes with lunch, with cake, with biscuits, with chocolate, with a chat, with a good read, with a telephone call to an old friend, with a shoulder to cry on and a box of tissues... Tea holds the secret to so many things. A good cup of tea can make troubles disappear... at least for a few minutes.

10) Being home
I lived away from my family and my home in the North East of England for a lot of years following University. I always knew I wanted to move back home at some point but it took the break down of my first marriage to make that happen. And I am so glad it did! My life has changed beyond recognition since I moved back up here and I am the happiest I've ever been. I love home and everything that means for me.

So, now it's time for me to tag some lovely bloggy peeps to take part in this happiness meme... I'm really sorry if any of you have already done this one, I've done my best to find out if you have but if I haven't looked beyond the end of my nose (as my Mum would say) I apologise profusely!

Here goes:

Single Mummy

Rosie Scribble

Are we nearly there yet mummy?

New Day New Lesson

Bing, bing, bong - Important message

This is a public service announcement.

Would all readers who are awaiting the arrival of Potential Mummy B's monthly visitor please step away from the edge of your seat.

We regret to inform you that, due to the arrival of a fertilised egg in the womb area, the visitor has been cancelled until futher notice.

We apologise for any inconvenience caused and hope you have a lovely day.

Thank you!

Yes! It was confirmed last night... I'm pregnant!

Words cannot describe how I'm feeling at the moment so I'll leave that for when the news has official sunk in. In the meantime, thank you all for your lovely thoughts and comments on my recent posts - they've obviously helped!

Wooooooooooooo!

Not this time...

OK, so pass the copious amounts of chocolate, it's that time of the month again.

Those of you who have been reading my blog since January will know that I'm trying to conceive (with help from hubs, obviously) after suffering an early miscarriage on Christmas Eve.

So, post ordeal, February is really the first month that hubs and I have tried again. Only February has conspired against us. What will illness, late nights and downright tiredness I would have been surprised if this was the month for another home pregnancy test to make my dreams come true...

Dag nash it, I hate it when I'm right!

Having downloaded an application on my iPod Touch (more in a tongue-in-cheek kind of a way than in any real anticipation) I knew that D Day (or should that be P Day?) fell this Saturday. After last time I was determined not to jump the gun and get too excited if I were a little late, but simply to bide my time and see what happened.

Even that little bit of friendly self-advice was a little premature as, on Saturday afternoon, in the midst of a hormone-fuelled battle with hubs, I recognised the dreaded onset of cramps...

While, as I said, I would have been surprised had we been pregnant this month, the arrival of those cramps left me sad, disappointed and more than a little frustrated.

But in the midst of all these feelings, hubs and I stopped our bickering and declared ourselves (the bestest of) friends again, as I brushed myself off and headed round to my sis-in-law's for an evening of chat, Cadbury's chocolate and sparkling wine - she really does know how to make me feel better (thanks bucket loads hun x).

So, onto March. Perhaps my own birthday month will herald the start of a new Baby B life?

I'm drowning in dirty stuff...

...and not in a good way!

No, I'm drowning in dirty washing, dirty dishes, dirty kitchen floors (well only one, so technically I couldn't possibly drown in that...).

This is all due to the stupidy stupid boiler breaking on Valentine's Day. Luckily we only had one sleepless night of getting up every two hours to empty the washing up bowl that was situated most precariously underneath said boiler to catch the drippety drip... Actually, my wonderful, gorgeous hubs did the getting up, but I was still rudely awakened every time he rose to do his duty.

So, I've been unable to do the dishes (must make room for that dishwasher I've had in the garage for nine months) without boiling the kettle three times for every bowl full, hubs has almost run out of undies and socks (and he gets grumpy if the underwear fairy isn't doing her job!) and my hands have gone on strike owing to the fact that I can only wash them in (and I kid you not) freezing cold water several times a day...

Ours is not a harmonious household of late!

But fear not, for a lovely fella from Gas Angel Heating has exited my abode, leaving me with a brand new, shiny (at least I think it is, can't see the blessed thing) and stupidly expensive new part which has stopped the dripping - hoozah, hoorah and jubilate!

Now, of course, I no longer have any excuse to leave the pile of washing, ignore the dirty dishes and sit at my computer all day - gah!

Time to press on with my wifely duties of the domestic kind... who has time to get pregnant these days!?

You shall not pass...

In between Christmas and New Year, the week following our early miscarriage we had, through our extremely diminutive doctor at the Accident and Emergency, made an appointment with the gynaecological department at our local hospital. Fresh from the upset of our loss and still reeling from the general furore that is Christmas chez nous, another trip to the hospital was pretty far down on my 'things I'd like to do today' list.

But a trip to the hospital was necessary so off we went, nerves a-jangling and anxiety in tow. I had no idea what to expect. All I'd been told was that Dr D had spoken to the gynae department on Christmas Eve and they'd advised me to go along.

Thankfully we didn't have to wait around too long. The waiting room was, in any case, warm and welcoming after the skatey, slippy fest we'd just witnessed outside the front door. Our first port of call was a consultation room, within which waited two ladies in hospital uniforms.

To say the atmosphere in this room was a little different from the waiting area would be an understatement. The talky lady (for the other uttered not one word) called me in. Hubby and I obediently stood and made our way into the room. At least we would have done if 'Talky' hadn't blocked my husband's path in the style of a miniature and slightly rotund Gandalf in the Fellowship of the Rings (picture the 'You shall not pass' moment and you're just about there!).

"And you are?" she growled up at him from a level roughly around his waistline. She may have been small but she was remarkably frightening nonetheless.

"Oh, er... sorry, this is my husband," I offered, trying to diffuse the situation. She huffed and gruffed a little as if the sight of a supportive husband wishing to accompany his wife into the unknown was offensive to her. Not a good start.

After being seated and looking on as Talky and Sitty appeared to conduct a full blown conversations in looks, paper shuffling and weird gutteral noises, I wondered what the hell we'd walked into. Talky began to ask questions, pen poised over the aforementioned paperwork to note down my answers. Each of the questions, although benign in their nature, were spat at me in such a manner as to catch me off-guard like a volley of flying hobbit daggers. I didn't expect the Spanish inquisition (cue a torrent of Monty Python quotations!).

It turned out that Talky and Sitty had no idea why we were there and how we had come to have an appointment. Unable to provide a suitable answer I merely gabbled on about Christmas Eve and the fact that the hospital doctor had sent us... perhaps just to check all was well?

With that, and a distinct lack of ceremony we were kicked out of the consulting room and back into the waiting area. Thankful to be alive and with all our limbs we sank back into the seats to await our next test.

After a scan and a very nice 'talking to' by another nurse with the smallest voice in the world we were sent home with miscarriage literature and the reassurance that none of this was our fault. Talky had turned out to be human after all, once she realised that we weren't just there wasting her time, and had talked to us softly and delicately about any questions we may have and to reiterate that we weren't at fault. This was my body's way of telling us it wasn't meant to be this time.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the human body is the most amazing thing. Sometimes it hurts and goes against our very dreams and desires... but there is always a very good reason for everything, at least in my experience so far.

Until the next time,

Potential Mummy B

The news sinks in...

Yesterday's blog was a toughy to write.

Today's is going to be just as difficult... but my view? This is a cathartic exercise for me. For those who might stumble across my humble blog, it may strike up a glimmer of recognition of feelings past or present. Or it may just act as (I hope) an interesting read. 

Whatever the outcome, my early miscarriage happened over a month ago and, although the feelings are still hot and painful if I think too hard or if something reminds me of them, I do not regard this as being the end of my world and I am certainly trying not to feel sorry for myself. I realise that people all over the world go through much, much worse than an early miscarriage (I know a few personally) but stuff like this hurts like hell on a purely personal basis.

Since I came home from the hospital, hand in hand with my precious husband, I have experienced a whole host of emotions (some driven by crazy hormones, some merely a spiritual reaction to our loss).

I've found myself longing to be pregnant again. Even though I only found out I was pregnant three days before it ceased to be, my sense of loss, as well as that of my husband, is shockingly profound. While my 'baby' was merely a clump of cells, to me it was a child, my child. An image of me and my husband. A beautiful life in waiting.

Floods of tears have engulfed me (and hubby if he were standing too close at the time) on countless occasions in recent weeks and one of the most over-riding feelings of all has been one of pure stupidity. How could I have got so excited at such an early stage and spilled the beans to our nearest and dearest only to have to retract that news again so soon? I felt I had ruined everyone's Christmas. Disappointed everyone and let them down. What was to be the most special gift we could give to our families on Christmas morning had instead turned out to be a bitter blow to all concerned.

Christmas came and went and a lovely time was had by all. The subject of our pregnancy was skated around with diplomacy (a fact for which I was eternally grateful) and quality time was spent with our families. I immersed myself in the affection and comfort of those I love the most and the world span on.

While I'm coping absolutely fine, side by side with my husband, and moving on with things in my life (writing has been a huge boon and a pastime that has helped me through a lot of sticky moments in the past) I have to admit that I do still stop dead in my tracks on occasion. Something will catch my eye or sneak its sneaky little way into my subconscious and poke, teasingly at those emotions I mentioned early. I know that time is a healer *puts down the cliché and backs away slowly* and I have faith in my own powers of 'bounce back' but I know I'll never forget potential bump number one as we move on and try again.

To those ladies who have been through similar and probably much worse experiences than mine: I doff my imaginary hat to you and hope you have drawn the (very difficult to find but no doubt existent) positives from a horrible situation. Personally I am proud to have called myself a pregnant lady (albeit in the confines of my own four walls!) for just a few days.

This time obviously wasn't meant to be (the human body is a remarkable thing) but I will be a mummy... Oh yes!

Potential Mummy B

Giveth with one hand... taketh away with the other

When you know you want to, why hang around right? After all, we had no way of knowing how long it would take us to fall pregnant. I know a number of couples who have had to have help of one kind or another to conceive. I also know others who still need that help and have yet to see any results. For them the dream of a natural family seems to be fading with every passing cycle; heartbreaking.

So why wait? Especially, as my husband keeps offering, 'at my age'. He is just a little younger than I and takes great pleasure in reminding me of the fact at every available juncture. Oh how I laugh...

Here's the exciting bit.

When we fell pregnant within the first six weeks of trying our emotions were almost too enormous to contain. I refrain from referring to those emotions purely as positive ones because, undoubtedly, mixed in amongst the undeniable excitement and joy was a rather striking crimson shade of terror. While my husband's reaction was mostly restricted to the joyful side of the spectrum, mine swung like an over enthusiastic bungy jumper swinging over a river valley from overwhelming happiness to white hot terror and back again within minutes.

But pregnant I undoutedly was! And off to the doctors we trotted at a rate of knots to make sure we hadn't got it wrong. I don't know what I was expecting the doctor to do for us but I guess I'd expected him to double check our self-diagnosis. No need apparently. The pregnancy tests one buys over the counter are every bit as accurate as those available to NHS staff so he merely congratulated us and calculated our due date. I was officially five weeks pregnant.

Off we skipped, reminiscent of a pair of 11 year olds racing off to the sweet shop, to tell both sets of parents our happy news. We couldn't contain our delight and our beaming faces gave us away as soon as we stepped through the door. But both sets of parents stood by their duties to wait to be told the news before bursting with excitement and squeals.

Our world was a happy place.

All this happened on 21 December 2009.

Over the next few days I tried to come to terms with the fact that I had a life beginning to grow inside of me. At that time is was a mere cluster of cells but it was my cluster of cells and I loved it for the potential baby it was to become. Hubby and I raced out to the nearest book store to buy some guide books on pregnancy and parenthood. We even stopped by Mothercare for a pregnancy journal which I began to fill in as soon as I got home.

I learned straight off that doubts and worries are commonplace, especially in a first pregnancy which, while doing nothing to alleviate those doubts and worries, made me more comfortable in experiencing them: a strange kind of equilibrium.

I started a journal to record my thoughts, feelings, doubts, anxieties. I began to spot a little the day after we did the test but a second test confirmed our initial hopes so all was well with the world.

I woke on Christmas Eve 2009 with joy in my heart, a developing foetus in my womb and a lifetime of plans doing the rounds in my brain. 'This is the last Christmas we'll have as a childless couple', 'next year I'll be buying 'baby's first Christmas' gifts', 'this has to be the best Christmas present ever'... However, as the day progressed the spotting I'd experienced the day before became more insistent and I developed a nagging, incessant ache in the pit of my stomach. Deep in my heart I knew something was wrong but, like the ostrich, I buried my head, hoping it would pass on by, hastened by the spirit of the season, and leave us good folk to enjoy our pregnant Christmas.

By late afternoon however, I could no longer ignore the pain. I called NHS direct and was told by an out of hours doctor to get myself to the hospital as soon as possible. Before we left, my husband and I agreed, without words, to prepare ourselves for the worst. With a heavy heart and the best game-face I could muster we headed out in the snow and ice.

Four and a half hours later we arrived home again, exhausted, drained of energy, emotion and a little blood. But most of all, we arrived back home without our pregnancy.

It was confirmed. We had suffered an early miscarriage.

Apparently almost one in four pregnancies end that way in the early stages; a fact that did nothing to ease the sense of loss I already felt after only three days of knowing I was with child.

My heart broke just a little that day.

Babies to the left of me, pregnancies to the right...

Isn't it funny that when you start focusing on a particular something, you start to notice that that 'something' crops up all over the place? Like for instance when a friend buys a new car that you haven't seen around before. All of a sudden you notice them all over the place. I have experienced something similar with babies.

Not, you understand, that I haven't really noticed babies and children before; I would surely have to walk around with my eyes closed in order to miss them (or trip over them, one of the two!). It's just that babies seem to be the topic of choice wherever I go; toddlers dart out in front of me in the supermarket, as if trying to draw my attention away from baked bean shopping; babies gleam their adorable gurgly little smiles at me as I fill the car with diesel; I've received the news that many of my friends have become pregnant in recent months or have recently had children; those of my friends and acquaintances who don't have children seem to make reference to them with ever increasing frequency; every time I turn the television on there is a baby or baby-related issue being talked about somewhere; and since my fairly recent marriage, babies seem to be the staple diet in terms of conversation whenever I meet family friends in the street. They are, in short, everywhere! Maybe it's just an age thing. Not only has my baby radar become more sensitive as I approach that stage in life, but that of my friends has also gone into overdrive, propelling those with the means (and some without) to beat me down the terrifying yet compulsive road that is children.

Just recently, since I've been trying to get pregnant (obviously with the help of my willing husband), friends have quite literally beaten me to the punch. Not that I begrudge them their excitement - no, not at all. It's just that I want to be able to discuss my exciting journey too but have made a pledge with my husband (as well as with myself) that we'll reach at least the 12 week mark of pregnancy before we start clambering up to the rooftops to make our announcement to the world.

Anyway, from me, an anonymous congratulations to all you pregnant ladies out there. I hope to join you in the ever glowing, ever growing stakes very soon!

Potential Mummy B

To prepare or not to prepare?

I didn't take much advice when my husband and I decided to try for a baby. Looking back I probably should have done.

I went to the doctors to get my contraceptive of choice removed and mentioned that we wanted to start trying for a baby in the coming months. Much to my husband's consternation the doctor told us we should not be 'joining' every day as this would deplete our sperm count. Instead we should be aiming for once every three days or so to give the little 'fellas' a chance to regroup!

After what was rather a brief chat about pregnancy and being bundled out of the door with a scrappy pile of print-offs relating to pregnancy and alcohol and pregnancy and diet, we left the doctor's surgery and headed for home to cogitate.

Following on from that we decided to float about on the internet for a while to see what we could stumble across. Unfortunately my rather disorganised approach to pregnancy research resulted in a big, fat blank as far as information was concerned. I'm sure there's oodles of site out there with information for prospective mums and dads to wade around in, immersing themselves in the whole experience of trying for a baby; I was damned if I could find it!

So what about blagging it? Probably not a wise move but how many women fall pregnant by accident and just find their way through without harm to them or the baby? Besides, I have the wisdom of my Mum, my mother in law, my sisters in law who have both fairly recently had children of their own. Plus I have my fabulous husband to run around for me if I so wish! What more could a woman need... a support network within five minutes of her own front door.

I am blessed.

And so, when it comes to planning, researching and preparing, I'm sure there is a lot to be said, if that's the way you want to do it. Me? I'm more of a 'fly by the seat of my pants' kind of girl. While never putting me or my unconceived child at risk, I have taken the decision to roll with the punches, as it were. I'm relatively fit and healthy. I've had a blood test recently, which came back with a clean bill of health. What more can I do?

Perhaps a quick trip to the local bookshop for some pregnancy help books might be in order, just in case...

My baby adventure begins - the big decision

I want a baby.

No, hang on, let's not be too hasty. Do I want a baby? Yes. No, wait...

Argh!

Is this such a big decision for everyone? I mean, deep down I've always known (since I was knee high to that proverbial grasshopper) that eventually, some day when I was 'growed up', I would want a family of my own. My dream has always been to have two: a boy and a girl... in that order. My husband thinks he might want three but I'm yet to decide whether to let him have a say!

A few months ago, when my husband and I were making the decision to actually start trying for a baby the conversations were reasonably short. They went something like: "When do we start trying?" asked he. "November? December? January?" replied I. "How about now?" asked he. "OK then, why not?" replied I. Could it be much simpler?

Well surely I'm not the only prospective mummy-to-be to have secret, internal struggles with this decision, even after the decision has been made? No, I can't be. After all, it is just a slightly large step to take..?

Now, I'm a thirty-something (never ask a lady!), I'm married with a very loving and supportive husband and our own home. Since we first got together we've been in complete and zen-like harmony on the issue of children (that is aside from the aforementioned number of said offspring).

So there we have it. The decision was made (at least externally!) to start actually making some progress. But don't worry, I'm really not going to go into the... *thinks carefully how to phrase this... ups and downs (NO)... ins and outs (absolutely not)* trials and tribulations of actually making the baby - that's for some other kind of blog which, I'm almost completely certain, will already exist somewhere on this inter-hyper-global-mega interweb thingy!

Anyway, I digress. My husband and I are trying for a baby and, I'm sure I'm not alone in these feelings, I am on a constant pendulum swing between pure, unadulterated excitement at the idea of becoming a mum and absolute, white-hot, earth-shattering terror at the enormity of it all. And while my husband is incredibly supportive of all of my (sometimes terrifyingly random) changes of mood, he fails to comprehend the enormity of my slightly less than positive feelings.

I mean, I'm used to having a very busy and enjoyable life. A baby will change all that to an unbelievable level. I'm not sure my husband understands that. He isn't the one whose body will change beyond recognition, whose career will have to be put on hold (at least for a while), whose drinking habits will have to be repressed and locked away until a later date, at which point I'll have to start all my training again from scratch! He gets the 'fun' part then gets to sit back for nine months!

But then I think about having a perfect little being, a combination of me and my gorgeous man, to love and cherish and introduce to the world. To teach to read and write or ride a bike. A future generation of my fantastic family; a grandchild for my amazing parents and in laws. The pride is already starting to build, even as I type.

OK, so it's a massive decision and one that can't be taken lightly... and believe me it hasn't been. I'm still terrified at the prospect of actually putting my body through pregnancy. But millions and millions of women have done it before me so I'm sure I'll cope somehow! So the decision is made. My husband and I are definitely going to have a baby. And soon I hope!

Now, where did I put my folic acid?

An introduction

Hi! I'm a first-time blogger so I'm a bit nervous but I'll press on regardless.

This is my blog. I hope to maintain an interesting, occasionally humourous and sometimes helpful record of my big adventure - having a baby.

I'm not actually pregnant yet but that doesn't deter me from pursuing this particular path. You see I'm a writer and I love to document things. I usually write under other people's names and for the purpose of other people's companies but now I'm turning the tables and writing from my own point of view, about my own experiences.

Without a doubt having a baby is going to be the most exciting yet terrifying adventure of my life so far and I've decided to keep a record of it. Even if no-one else reads this I'll always have my own personal story to recount to whoever wants to listen when the time comes.

While I'm not actually starting from scratch (all will become slightly clearer later) I'll be providing a chronological account of the twists and turns of decision making, potential pregnancy and early parenting right here on this blog.

So, from a complete blogging virgin, thank you for passing by and I hope you'll be back should this blog catch your eye, tweak your interest or just help you pass the time!

Yours with a hop, skip and a jump (while I still can!),

Potential Mummy B