Life comes at you fast…

Life comes at you fast…

It only seems like yesterday it was New Year’s Day, I was sobbing in the bath wondering what direction my life was going in. Feeling incomplete, a failure, broken and exhausted.

Fast forward to today. I’m preparing my hospital bag for Monday, washing and ironing all Baby Bloomer’s tiny outfits ready for his arrival in the next few weeks. I often finding myself just sitting in his nursery, talking to my ever-expanding bump, telling him how much we can’t wait to meet him.

I was hopeful this time would come. I had faith. But part of me resigned to the fact that I might not ever reach this point. Now it’s here I feel completely unqualified to become a mother. At times I feel like an imposter in my own life. Albeit a grateful, excited, slightly apprehensive imposter.

It’s a completely alien feeling to be head over heels in love with someone you have never met. You communicate in regular reminders that his home is getting increasingly cramped by the day. You already know his sleeping pattern, the foods he likes and dislikes, the music he enjoys listening to. You know deep in your heart that you’ll never love anything or anyone as much as you love the tiny human growing inside you.

It’s been 49 weeks since I published that New Year blog post. 49 weeks since I wrote the following: “’2020 is going to be my year’ I keep telling myself. But what if it’s not? What if I’m sat in the bath January 1st 2021 writing the same ‘woe is me’ post because abso-bloody-lutely nothing has changed once again?” Little did I know just how much would change and how quickly. Life certainly does come at you fast right?

January 1st 2020…

January 1st 2020…

Today marks the start of new beginnings. The time to reflect on the past. The amazing highs, the almighty lows and all the bits in-between. The time to share resolutions you’ll set with good intentions but struggle to keep beyond the first month. A new day, a new year, a brand spanking new decade.

So why do I feel so damn flat?

Let’s just say 2019 was character building. I’m a stronger woman after enduring challenge after challenge whether personal or work related. But I’m tired. Tired of getting my hopes up, tired of constantly putting a smile on my face and muddling through, tired of pretending everything is ok when actually it’s not.

‘2020 is going to be my year’ I keep telling myself. But what if it’s not? What if I’m sat in the bath January 1st 2021 writing the same ‘woe is me’ post because abso-bloody-lutely nothing has changed once again?

This isn’t a cry for help by the way. I’m just feeling particularly sorry for myself. Maybe it’s because my period started yesterday? A fabulous way to end the year *virtual thumbs up*. A middle finger from Mother Nature. I mean, at least it was bang on time though. No pissing about like last month. Note to self: I must remember to remain thankful for small mercies and avoid constantly sounding ungrateful. Repeat after me ‘you are healthy, you are happy. You are healthy, you are happy.’

This month, more so than last month, I had completely convinced myself we were pregnant. That the spotting I got Christmas Day and Boxing Day was a sign that 2020 was going to be ‘The One.’ I had obsessively Googled implantation spotting, timescales, cycles. Thoughts constantly whirring around my head for 6 days. Wondering how I go about cancelling the consultation we have booked with a specialist in January. Staying up until 5am reading post after post telling me not to get my hopes up until I’d done a pregnancy test after my period was due. Looks like one of my resolutions needs to be ‘follow other’s advice’ because I did the exact opposite.

Yes, 2019 had it’s struggles but life would be boring if everything went the way we want it to right? 2020 will no doubt have its own hurdles to overcome and we will get through whatever is thrown at us.

But today I’m a little down so I’m going to get back in my pjs, drag the duvet to the sofa and watch back-to-back rom-coms before I have to head back to work tomorrow. Let me wallow in my hormonal sadness for a few hours and then I’ll be as right as rain.

So cheers everybody! Here’s to 2020! New Year, Same Me. Just 34lbs lighter and a little more exhausted.