a work in progress

Category: Pregnancy


This new body

The stretch marks I adore, I wouldn’t try to remove them for anything in the world.
The legs that splay apart as if they still know what it feels like to have a weight pushing upon them. The thinnest ankles holding so much weight, much too much weight.

Breasts that are brazen now, not as shy as they once were, but still concealed and firmly kept in place with the all amazing Fayreform. Lopsided and confused for life, hopefully Rumi will bring back the balance. For now, I look at them in the mirror and wish they were smaller and even.

A tummy that can blow up like a balloon after too much of the wrong thing. But will often stay resting, gently tucked in as if all is well for now. The layers of handle, never sure as to when to leave, remain. They are not from Aru. Well some are. But the most are from long before. I’ve never come to terms with them. We’ve been frenemies from the day they began to appear.

Perhaps anytime now, I’ll learn to look at them with love, rather than with irritation.

I read this now and I realise.

If I had a firm stomach and balanced breasts, I would be 14 again.
And I don’t want to be 14 again, not for any amount of money in the world.
I love that I know myself better now.
Know that I can depart from moments I don’t need to put up with.
Know that I have found love and it is rare.
Know that there is a little boy in my life who loves me with the sweetest of souls.

I also realise.
I am not other women.
They are not me.
We all have things the other wants.

Money. Bodies. Body bits. Talent. Eyes. Eyelashes even. Love. Sweet love.

The trick seems to be.
To be happy with our lot.
Perhaps that is the hardest skill of all.


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For your pregnant friend (and mine). 

I’ve got a dear friend who is pregnant and she reminds me so much of myself when I was pregnant. 
I guess there are some women who have wanted children all their lives. And then there are those of us, who often pick up a baby, only to have it start crying and so we quickly shuffle the bubba back to the mumma. 
This is for the not-so-maternal-but-going-to-be-a-mum-type-woman. 
Hey lovely woman. 
I know how icky and frustrating and weird all of this can be at times. 

I remember saying to V, “I can’t wait to just get him out of me!”. 

Sometimes Aru would make me feel so gooey and lovey inside, and on other days, I’d pronounce him a “Little Shit” even before he was born. 
And the thought of being a mum? It was unknown to me. 

To be honest, we had Aru for more practical reasons, rather than, “Oh my god, I can’t wait to be a mum squeal squeal squeal“. Not. 
And when he came. 

I didn’t know what the fuck to do. 

None of that, it all happened so naturally bullshit happened to me. 

(Sorry Maa, I know I swore back there). 
Aunties and Mums would look at me like I had the solution. 

And I sure as hell didn’t. 

I remember stumbling and stumbling and stumbling some more. 
I also remember something inside of me taking over. 

An emotion I’d never really had before. 

Like a light bulb (a mega watt one), it shone. 

I was maternal. 

Sure every now and then it was a bit like a tube light which takes time to flicker on. But nevertheless. 

I was radiant guys. 
Finally I had arrived at this whole motherhood game. 

And I was like BRING IT ON SUCKERS. 
After so much confusion. 

Fights with just about everyone. 

Books and failed books and lessons and more lessons. 
I chose a motherhood that I couldn’t find. 

I stopped looking for examples. 

I stopped stalking Instagram profiles with waaaayyyy to much good advice. 

I stopped reading about dying babies on Facebook. 

I opted for daycare when I was ready. 

I chose to be honest about when I’d had enough of him. 

I found my own methods after so much tumbling and falling. 
And you know what. 

He’s turning out pretty damn fine. 
And I’m hella sure. 

Yours will be as well. 

Just so long as you do it your way. 

Because you’re the best mum for your bubba.



Waiting for Rumi

So we’ve been trying for a second baby for a long time.
Before we were ready.
Mind you, I don’t think you’re ever ready.

But it is. Anguish.
I’m grateful that I don’t feel guilt or too much envy.
I don’t even really aim for “right time of month sex”.

More like, “Okay, let’s do this!”.

But I feel.

And I can only imagine how bone crushingly hard, how mind numbingly wretched it would feel.

If you felt all the feels.

And honey, I’m with you.
Every pregnancy test, every bloody period, every post-sex-mindframe, I’m with you.

And I always remind myself.

When the universe feels it’s the right time, the right moment, the right direction for me. It will be as it is to be.

And so.
I accept.
Even if it is just for now.
Because hope.
Never leaves you.
Does it?



Where to start. Notes on pregnancy.

My dear pregnant friend.
You said “I don’t know where to start”.
And it got me thinking.

I was about to write down a post, pen a list, draft up a calendar.
But then my little boy, that young man Aru came running into the room.
He’s opened up my box of washi tape, I predict a tidy up in the near future.
He’s latched onto daddy’s laptop wire, crying because he can’t disconnect it.

His little eyes are looking at me,
oh, pause, I’ve now got to open the laptop so he can type incomprehensible sentences,
oh pause, gotta go back because he closed the lid and he’s picking up the 2 kilo thing to get me to open it.

So in the writing of this intensely incredible blog post (I know right!),
I know you can start in one place.

Start with a breath.
Start with you.
Start with enjoying the solitude you have.
Start with enjoying the uninterrupted sleep.
And if you are interrupted, it is your right, to have a go at the person who wakes you up.

Start with you.
And don’t worry, because there is so much more to come (did I tell you this thing is worth subscribing to, especially for you?).

But for now, start with you.
Your rest, your sleep, your meals, all you.



Excuse me while I open up a laptop for the fourth time. 🙂


Baby photograph

All the stuff you need. First 0-6 months of Baby Needs.

Before we had Aru, I had began the search for baby needs. Cots and prams were the bare basics. It felt really, really overwhelming.
Every family and baby will have a different equation. But these are the things we really needed and truly used vs. the things we are glad we didn’t buy, or regret buying!

This doesn’t cover every single thing – you can go to Pinterest for that! It covers more of the debatable things you might be tossing up on.

Read More

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