2016 -The End

     It has truly been a wonderful ending to an epic year for me. Despite the craziness going on in the world this year with legendary celebrities kicking the bucket, Britain's exit and Trumps entry, my world has grown and is filled with so much joy. Becoming a Mum has been a defining journey for me so far, and it's only just begun.

     Everyone has made a fuss over this being Harlow's first Christmas, and it has been really nice. She got totally spoiled and it was crazy to me how much joy that gave me. Like her presents were my presents. It made me happy to see her spoiled. However, she is only 3 months old so she was more interested in the tissue paper and quite frankly wasn't bothered by all the, 'Oh, what have you got Harlow?'s. But come next year when she's walking about and understands things better, Oh Em Gee, I cant wait for that! This Christmas may have been her first, but this Christmas wasn't about her. It was about me. About my first Christmas as a Mummy, and my last Christmas of being spoiled, because I totally was! Cheers Mum and Dad :) Now I get it. I get it when people say that Christmas is about your children, because seeing them happy is the only present you ask Santa for.

     My birthday is on boxing day, and I got really emotional towards the end of the day. I found out that my IVF treatment had worked and that I was pregnant on my birthday last year (2015). It had been a year that I got that amazing news and there I was, babe in arm, reflecting on my journey and I just couldn't stop the emotion breaking through. I truly feel so blessed in my life right now to have a happy and healthy little girl; whom is funny and bright and beautiful. She is everything I could have asked for and more, and I hope I am for her. I often get asked about how I cope as a single parent, or how will I tell Harlow that she doesn't have a father, but it's pretty easy to be honest. I went into this knowing it was just going to be us two, so I don't know any different. And as for Harlow not having a father, who needs one when she has four devoted uncles!

Harlow with my four brothers: Matt, Brett, Daniel and Ashley. (Left to right)

To my darling daughter,

     There will never be enough words to tell you what you mean to me. I hope that I am enough for you, that you have a happy life with me, and that you never go a day without feeling like you belong. I will give you everything that I have to offer as Mother, as a woman, and as a friend. I love you, Smoosh.

Forever Yours,
Mummy xxxx



Happy New Year, All!!!

My 'scrambled eggs' explained

     I have referred to my eggs as being scrambled, but I haven't explained what that means. In the literal sense, my eggs are perfectly normal. They're definitely not gooey little globs floating around in my ovaries - they've just never worked.

     I was a late bloomer in life. I didn't start the 'monthly fun time' until I was nearly 16 and even after that, mother nature only visited once a year. At the age of 20, and after repeated blood tests and scans, the doctors had ruled out every condition (such as PCOS) and told me they didn't know what the cause or reason was, but it was very possible that I might never have children. At the age of 20, I wasn't ready to have children, but it was something I definitely wanted in my future. Now that future was uncertain.

     Needless to say, that knowledge stuck in mind for my entire adulthood. The older I got, the more desperate I began to feel. Though I had never actively attempted a pregnancy, I also never took precautions to avoid one. I always said that any pregnancy would be a joy, no matter how it was consummated. As all my friends became mothers and fathers, the need grew deeper and deeper. I loved being Aunty Holly and I have the most wonderful bonds with my friends children, but it was never enough, and never would be.

     On top of all this desire, my love-life had long since taken a nose-dive into oblivion! I was very much in love with my ex and our break-up was incredibly difficult for me to deal with, and I never found love since. My doctors had told me that when I was ready to have children, I would need medical help. There were drugs they could use to stimulate my ovaries, as mine are, in a sense, impotent. But not having someone in my life made that option a non-option. So here is my where my difficulty lies...

1) My ovaries weren't releasing eggs and even when they did, it could be up to a year before they did, making ovulation IMPOSSIBLE to calculate.
2) In order to have children, I would need medical help, and therefore I needed a partner whom was as committed as I
3) I had no partner
4) Fertility begins to deplete in women over the age of 35, and as I was nearing my 30's, was I prepared to wait for Mr Right to come along to give me the family life I so desperately longed for?

The answer in short was... No. I wasn't.

     Choosing to be a single mother is a lot less scary then the possibility of never being a mother at all. My fertility was already below women in my age category, and my heart was aching enough. Some people may look at me as the sad, desperate spinster, but you know what I say to them? Yes. You're absolutely right. I was sad. I was desperate. And I'm still a spinster. #spinsterlife

     I look at my daughter now and everything I went through leading up to her birth was a test on my character. She is the most amazing and spectacular thing I have done in my life, and my choice to have her the way I did was honest, and was achieved through sheer love and devotion. Well, that and a shit load of egg-stimulating hormones! I may not be able to have children on my own, but with a little help and a lot of inner-strength, my eggs matured, fertilized and grew inside of me like any normal woman. For that, I am truly thankful, and for the first time in my life, I feel like a normal woman; scrambled eggs or not.

Public appearences v. The truth

     I'm pretty much the last of my friends to have a baby. I remember meeting up with my mum-friends and seeing how neat their hair and make-up would be and how energised they were, and thinking that they made motherhood look so easy. Then I became a Mum and at first, I thought, how did they do it?! I barely found time to brush my teeth most mornings. Some days I didn't even change my pants. Pretty grim, I know. But that was my reality.

     Here I was, with a lovely little girl, whom I bath every night and change her clothes, brush her soft, fine hair, clip her nails, and oh my days is she a beauty. Then there was me: yellow teeth, pits that smell like onions, hair that resembles a birds nest, living in the same pyjamas day after day and most days, starving. Thank god my Mum came to stay with me in the first few weeks because I don't even dare to think what my house would have been like. Finding time to be a human and be a Mum at the same time is incredibly difficult to balance in the beginning. People will tell you that it's hard, but they don't tell you how it is hard. I honestly couldn't figure out how my friends kept it together. Then I realised something. They didn't.

     When I step out of the house to go somewhere or visit someone, I hide the truth: that I am now a complete and utter disaster of a person. If you see me at your door with make-up on, you want to be grateful. I showered for you. When you see me with my hair straightened, you need to thank my daughter. I let her cry an extra 10 minutes while I gave myself some attention. When you see me looking smart, you should be impressed. I actually managed to use the washing machine this week. Pre-motherhood, I was one of the most organised persons I know. I always looked together, I never ran late or missed an appointment and I definitely always ate. Now that all my time is given to Harlow, I had given up on being Holly. And I know I'm not the only one.

     I may be a single parent but I have the most amazing Mum and helpful friends, so I'm not alone, but how in the fuck I am as disorganised as I am is beyond me. I mean, Harlow is one tiny, little, mini human, yet I can never get my shit together. Right now, there is an open nappy sac with a dirty nappy inside on my living room floor, which I abandoned next to the change mat, which is opposite a nearly empty bottle of breastmilk, which I will admit has been there for at least 4 hours and I'm pretty sure that the bib that is under my leg on the sofa smells like sick. And that's just my living room...

     Three months in though, I'm glad to say the hygiene is improving. I'm leaving the house more often than not and my hair brush has never seen so much action. I'm still having the odd 'slob' day but you know what, who cares? I certainly don't. So my house isn't perfect 24/7. So my letters haven't been opened in a few days. So my fridge is a little bare and I've been living off noodles and chocolate. As long as my lady is healthy and happy, I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing and the rest will fall into place, eventually.

     So to all the Mums that are looking glamorous today,  well done for finding the time to hide the truth. Crack open a can of cider (or a bottle of prosecco if you're feeling fancy) and lets toast to all the exhausted, stinky, and disorganised Mums, who found the motivation to be human enough to make a good public appearance. Here, here!

An introduction of sorts

     Hello fellow bloggers.

     It's been a while since I put words together to form a body of text. Years actually. Life has a tendency to carry on rolling by while you fantasize about the billions of pounds you'll never have and the Brazilian pool-boy in a sequined thong bringing you tea. Next thing you know, you've got a baby in the cradle, a wedge of post-caesarean fat across your stomach - streaked with livid 'how could you do this to me' stretch marks - and so many holes in your memory that your brain has become a sieve, quite literally. Well now that things have become more settled in my now upside-down world, I realised that I finally have some inspiration back in my heart and a truck-load of topics right in my home. Thanks to my ever so charming daughter, Harlow. My joy. My darling. My muse! My... Oh fuck, it's crying. Make it stop! Make it stop!

     I've had an interesting journey into motherhood; all self-inflicted which has made for interesting conversation, as I have been single for the past 7 years. I get a lot of, "You and your partner must be so proud."
     "Your fella is a lucky guy."
     "I didn't know you had a boyfriend..."

     Clearly the question here is, 'who's the daddy', but no-one can ask the long-term singleton the simple question because the judgement here is, 'she totally had a one-night stand. Whore.'

     Actually, the answer isn't as sordid as you'd expect. Short version: I wanted a baby but my eggs are 'scrambled' and I wasn't prepared to wait for Mr Right any longer, so I had IVF and used donor sperm. Ta-daaa! This baby was wanted, this baby was planned, and this baby is the best thing I ever did. My daughter is now three months old and so far she has survived so I'm doing pretty good at this single-parent thing (#thumbsup.) I'll go through the much longer and complex version in later posts, but for now, that's us in a nutshell.

     This blog will be a place for me to share my enjoyments and my hardships as a mother, I'll be doing reviews on products I use for my daughter, and I'll be posting images of our lives to remember the moments as she grows. I will be serving the realistic and blunt views of my experience, with a side order of humour. It's all about the baby bants! Please feel free to comment any topics below you'd like me to write about and I hope you enjoy reading my blog for breakfast :)