My Son… Thank You

My Dearest,

As you snuggle deeper into my arms for what feels like the last time I want to take this time to thank you. To thank you for the most amazing year. It’s been incredible. 

Part of me knew it would be, I’ve been waiting for you for so long, but the other part of me was quite anxious. Will I be good enough? Will I know what to do once we’re left alone? Will you know what to do? 

I’m still learning. We’re still learning. 

It wasn’t long before we got into the swing of things. By 7am most days we were alone. Alone for 12 hours some days. We shared everything together. We went everywhere together. It was very rare for us to be apart. You wouldn’t allow it. But that was fine. I learnt that that’s what you needed, and who was I tell you otherwise?

It’s been a journey and a half, son. We’ve been through a lot. I’ve fed you. I’ve carried you in more ways than one. Loved you unconditionally. The latter was easy. 

Over the past year you’ve proved I had so much more love to give when I thought all of it was already given to your mama. You’ve proved I had more strength, more energy. More everything. I don’t know how or where, but you found it. You’ve pushed me past limits no one has ever taken me, and at times broken me. Thank you.

Now the more difficult part begins hop over to this site. We have to go our separate ways for a while. It won’t be for long. Trust me. I won’t allow it. My head will be at work, sometimes, but my heart will be with you, always. 

No matter how long this stage lasts remember this, I will never forget this past year and I hope you feel the same. 

Thank you, sweetheart. I love you. 



You Could Have Told Me!


We need to have words.

Over the past 5 and a bit months (I’m past trying to work it out by weeks now) we’ve been through some really good times. Well-timed times. The ones that make people call you an “easy” baby. Like, when you’re cute and flirty with visitors but then crabby when it’s just you and me. Those times. They’re great. They make us look like a team.

However, there have been a few times recently when I really would have appreciated a little whisper in the ear.

For example,

You could have told me you’d wee’d yourself whilst I was wearing you in a light grey stretchy. I’m not sure whether people thought it was urine or a leaky boob.

You could have told me to put my boob away before I answered the door to the postman. This is probably the reason we now have a female postie.

You could have had that explosive poo before we went out, and not in the car seat, and then trailing it into the buggy and then all. over. yourself. The mums at the soft play really appreciated you stinking the toilets out.


On my way to the changing room. Yes. He sat on his straps. Yes. That’s poo.

You could have let me know I had a breast pad stuck on the back of my leg before going out.

You could have told me you needed your nails cutting rather than just scratching your face so much that you looked like Edward Scissorhands.


You could have told me to shave my legs before going swimming.

You could have told me I forgot to put your neoprene nappy on.

You could have told me you were planning on falling asleep on the playmat rather than scaring the life out of me.  

So before I make a monumental tit out of myself or the both of us again, have a word?



Dear My Teething Terror. 

My Dearest,

We’ve had a rough week. Admit it. We’re not friends. I can tell as you’ve barely smiled at me, let alone chuckled. Smiles seem to be reserved for mumma, and giggles for nana.

You’re suffering from teething pain, I know, and nothing seems to be quite hitting the spot. We have everything from a silicone hammer to a rubber giraffe, even a good old fashioned dummy. My fingers seem to work well, but it’s not so cute anymore when you chomp down. You’re often hitting bone! Not literally, but you may as well for the pain it creates. I love you, but I can’t quite take that.

What’s more is that you’ve now started chomping down at the end of a feed when you’ve had enough. That’s fun (!). What’s wrong with just coming off? Why the biting? What did I do to deserve that? You put so much effort into it that I’m starting to take it personally!

I really hope you learn to stop biting me soon, I’m not ready to stop nursing you. It’s our one moment of calm where it’s just you and me. Our special time. Just us. It’s bliss.


At the moment, however, it’s not so calm. My heart races at every feed and I’m sure you can feel me tense. I’m sorry, but it’s like dipping my nipple into a shark tank.

To top everything off, you’ve now started to grind your beautiful front teeth. Why? Who knows. The face you make is so very cute, but that’s the only pleasant feature – the sound is like nails to a chalkboard. Please stop.

Things can only get better, I hope, and next week is a brand new week. So pinky swear we’ll be friends next week, yeah? And no biting!

Love you.


A Letter to Sharon and Kate 2 Years Ago

Hello Ladies, Kate here!

I thought I’d write to you as a loving hand from the future.

Right about now you’re feeling pretty lousy. You’ve just had your 8th BFN. You’re feeling like this whole TTC malarkey is never going to work for you. You feel like you’re never going to have your family.

But I’ll let you in on a little secret. A secret we would have liked to have known ourselves 2 years ago, if not longer…

You will have your family.

I will give birth to a beautiful son and he will be your anything and everything.

You will love him to the moon and stars, and there will be nothing you won’t do for him.

There will be sleepless nights, cold tea,  and hurried meal times; but you won’t care. Not really. You will sigh and maybe complain slightly, but you won’t care. You have your baby.

You have your family.

We’re so happy right now, life couldn’t be better. We can’t wait for you to feel this, to see your son, to see your family as a whole.

You. Will. Love. It. It really is everything you’re currently dreaming of and more.

Stay strong, ladies. It’ll be worth it in the end.


A Letter to T (One Month)

To My Beautiful Son,

A month has now passed since you arrived into our world – I still can’t believe you’re here and that you’re ours. We’re so used to being the ‘aunties’ and having to give children back.

Every day I look at you and wonder how you came to be. Your beautiful eyes, that are now open almost all day taking everything in. Your tiny hands, that like to hold onto a finger of mine when you’re feeding. Your cute feet, that are so incredibly ticklish. I wake up every day, thankful to have you in our lives.

Although I’m cherishing every moment where you’re so tiny, I also can’t wait to watch you develop into a little human being with your own personality.

We love you so very very much and there’s not a single thing we wouldn’t do for you.

Happy one month, darling.

Living With a Nightmare – An Open Letter to my Wife. 


Over the past two weeks I have been living with a nightmare. It’s not you, it’s not T, it’s me.

I’ve been a royal pain in the backside – not just for you, but for me. I’ve been stressing myself out over the smallest of things; such as getting the washing done and making the most of our time, and it’s probably stressing you out. I’m sorry.

This time is meant to be a time where we’re relishing in the fact we have a son – and we are relishing, a lot, but I’m still also expecting to carry on as we were before and as expected, it’s not happening quite as planned.

Long before T even came along I’ve always struggled with the thought of being looked after – my mum raised me to be extremely independent. I’m happy to work as a team when it comes to big tasks like DIY and gardening, I just hate not being able to do simple tasks or anything at all for that matter. So when T arrived and I was pretty much useless to anyone because he required almost constant feeding, it was up to you to do the majority of the cooking, washing, and general organisation of our day – and I hated it as I had no control whatsoever. I also couldn’t offer anything back. Before, I would cook and you would wash up, for example. Simple. Now you’re doing everything and I feel rubbish about it. I’m not the super wife I expected to be. I expected to be able to feed, cook a meal, eat it, and then maybe feed again – who was I kidding?

Please don’t take this as me sounding ungrateful, I appreciate everything you do, I’m just finding it very difficult to cope with being off my game. This week I’ve cooked half a Thai curry, been half dressed most of the time, got piles of washing prepared but never been able to put them in the machine. There’s a basket of clothes that still requires putting away, and washing up that’s still soaking but not completely washed – all because someone needs a feed. I’m not angry with him, honest – I just didn’t want our time remembered by me just being a milk maid and you being the maid. I hope you understand. I know it’ll get better eventually or I’ll get used to it – this is what every new patent goes through. Hell, we’re not even a month in yet! I guess I just expected a lot more from myself.

I know I have no choice, he needs feeding – so I have to stop. You tell me every day that I’m being silly, that we are a team, and that you couldn’t care less about who does what around the house, and I believe you, honest – I just don’t want to accept it. I want to be able to do so much more. Our friends have accepted it, they automatically knew to contact you instead of me as they knew I would be occupied with T. The only person who didn’t know this or want to accept it was me. I’m sorry. 

Every time I have a mini meltdown I promise myself to chill out, but I need to start promising you. Maybe it’ll actually take effect. So…

I promise to just let you look after me (without complaints).

I promise to not let the little things bother me anymore. There are bigger things to worry about – about 9Ibs worth.

I also promise to accept that whatever I can do/provide would have been my very best (even if I have only accomplished cooking beans on toast).

I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done over the past two weeks – You’ve helped me and been there in more ways than I can tell you and for that I will be forever in your debt.

You are a wonderful mumma and an amazing wife – I’m so very lucky to have both of you in my life.

I love you.