When you love someone and it goes to waste.

Where am I right now? So once again I started new years eve in a low place, for the second year running. Last year I was scared, pregnant, finding it hard to adjust to the dramatic life changes, all the while the one person who should have been there holding my hand wasn't. He was in another county, I thought this year might be different, who am I kidding? Why did I ever think that seeing his son being born would change something in him? I must be the biggest fool round.
So after a full year of loving you, laying my self on the line for you, giving you my heart, making the effort for you, you tell me you can't stop thinking about someone else. I can't make you love me, and I can't make you want to watch your son grow up day in day out. I will never ever understand what goes on through your head, Call me self indulgent for crying over you, but it's hard not to be when all I have for company is me, after you left me to bring up our baby on my own.
Sure, I've been a bitch, of course I have, I've dangled other people in front of you just to try and make you jealous, to see if it would ignite something in you, but nothing seemed to work did it? You're still more passionate about yourself than you will ever be for your son. So this is it. I've had enough. I'm done. I just hope next time you use protection.


p.s I wouldn't swap seeing my amazing baby boy every single day for all the booze, drugs or dirty floors in the world.

On being a single mum.

bottles 

milk

sterilise, wash bottles, rinse bottles, fill steriliser, 4 minutes 30. 

kettle

dummy WHERES THE DUMMY?

nappy

washing

cleaning

bath

6 scoops, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, lid on, shake. Cold water, cool down, feed. 

Money, there is never enough money.

These are all the mundane shit points I hate about being a mum. They're also the points which make being a single mum such a ball ache, In my mind, being part of a couple.. a unit, means that these points are shared out, diluted, and there is more time to enjoy the baby. 

All of these things aside, Harry is the best little human in the world, he's filled my heart right to the brim, he's taught me patience, love, kindness, tenderness and all the other good human emotions that I never realised I was capable of feeling or even using. 

When I put him to bed, usually after a little baby protest I ache to see him again, to hold him and smell him, to look at every little part of him and feel choked with joy and amazement that I made him, that I gave him life and I will continue to do so for as long as we both live. My arms feel empty when he's not with me, in the middle of the night after his feed, providing we're only a few hours away from the morning I place him next to me in the bed, fast asleep, so perfect, I hold his hand and drift back into a happy sleep. 

Harry and I are untouchable, we're a team, we keep each other alive, he keeps me in the world and on track. Before Harry my life was meaningless, I didn't care if I died, not that I wanted to but it just didn't really matter, I took my body and health for granted, but now I have Harry to live for and I'm so full of determination and drive, my life is no longer just mine, it's his, and I want to give everything I have to him, I'd do anything just to see him smile. 

I'm truly happy at the moment, sure I have worries and stresses and I do have days or moments where I want to world to swallow me whole and never ever spit me out but thats just human, I'm getting sorted. I've met a beautiful wonderful man who's given me back my energy & re ignited my confidence, I'm loving my course at college, I honestly thing everyone should do a counselling course, it's a really good way of dumping your shit off every week and leaving it in that room. I've got a lovely home which I'm gradually making my own and the best friends and most supportive family ever. I'm basically just disgusting. 

In the middle of the night, I wake up, Harry on my chest and Lola across my shoulder, the three of us as one, I built this, I made this. 

"I've never been in love like this before"

Now let me pray to keep you from
The perils that will surely come
See life for you my prince has just begun
And I thank you for choosing me
To come through unto life to be
A beautiful reflection of his grace
For I know that a gift so great
Is only one God could create
And I'm reminded every time I see your face

x

Harry James William Gray

Born June 25th 2012 weighing 7.11lbs 

Maintaining personal style when you look like a whale.

SO the biggest issue I've been confronted with during pregnancy has been trying to hold on to some sort of personal style, if it's not enough that I've given up booze, London and half my intake of junk food I'm now being forced into maternity clothes, where the only range I can actually afford contains t-shirts reading "I LOVE MY BUMP" & "HANDS OFF THE BUMP" and things with... ahem... frills. Yeah, frills. I don't do frills, I never have and I never will, nor do I do scoop necks and three quarter length sleeves.

So here's what I intend to do, stick my fingers up to the stereotypical image of a pregnant chick and embrace my situation, because at the end of the day, who the hell am I kidding? I got knocked up by my 18 year old on off boyfriend who started off as a sleezy one night stand whilst highly intoxicated. This baby was conceived out of a rather long drawn out and ugly break up between the two of us.

My personal style now? To dress as inappropriately as I can for a pregnant person. Embrace my inner chav and stick on the garish leggings (which show off my new humungous ass)/nike sweatshirt teamed with a disgustingly large pair of gold ear rings. I'm telling you now I feel much truer to myself like this than I would if I was sporting a tunic and ballet shoes.

ciao!

p.s maybe I'll give latex a go ;)

21 weeks

Hey all, so a lot has happened since my last post,

The most significant of all has been my move from London to Cornwall. Difficult doesn't even begin to describe what it's been like, I left my beautiful bedroom in holloway, got in my car, dropped Callum off at his and left. I cried pretty much all the way back, every traffic light I stopped at I had to fight the urge to turn my car around or just get out and run. But I didn't, because deep down I know that Cornwall is the only way I can make any kind of future for my baby and I.

So I've moved into my amazing new flat, it's the first time I've lived totally on my own and I actually quite like it, it's a bit like my own little sanctuary where everything is my way and all just so. It took me a while to stay here though, I kept staying at my mums like a little lost lamb and following her about all cushy, but I've manned up now!

So on the baby front all is well and good, baby boy is perfect as far as we call all tell, he doesn't look so much like a fox/dog/frog any more, seems like he's grown into his face a bit, in fact I think he's quite pretty. My body is changing every single day, my bra is getting tighter and my pants don't fit anymore, I've moved into maternity jeans and people stand up on the tube for me now! - I went to London for a few days to see Callum, turns out distance makes the heart grow fonder, I think I love him more now than I ever have. But anyway, yeah I can make my belly button pop inside out if I push hard enough and my nipples are all oozy, it's gross but awesome, I've never been so vile, I'm like a wind machine too, I have no shame any more.

Here are some photos from the last couple of weeks...

Callum clearly helping me pack:

Me and Kimbo spying on Robin Williams

20 week scan!:

Trying to pack:

Spyin' on Callum:

mush.

Callum and I on the sims:

I had a little moment in Hospital, came off of anti depressants too quickly and kept falling into stuff:

Me and my girlfriend:

erm, 18 weeks?:

20 weeks:

My moses basket, been through me and my brothers and cousins babies and now mine!:

Babas bedroom and all his goodies:

My bedroom:

When all my stuff got delivered from London:

After:

Babas cot and changing table:

wake up!

Kel and Julian pissed as farts:

My future pram:

The truth.

Dear Blog.

So I thought it was about time I sat and told the truth. And that is that I'm miserable as fuck.

I can feel my youth slipping away faster than a well needed piss, I'm coming out with things such as "I've bought posh soap for my new bathroom and a little jar to put them in!" This time 4 months ago I was sitting with my head in the toilet for far more interesting reasons than morning sickness, I was trying to find my way home from god knows where at 12 o clock the day after a rather blurred night out, made even blurrier by my happy pills which made me feel pretty damn rock and roll if I'm honest, I was canoodling with models and musicians and wearing push up bras so I got more tips at work.

But now... now I'm getting excited about curtains, going to sleep at 8pm and waking up at 6am, wearing leggings and flats getting drunk off of diet coke and eating loads of fruit.

Right now I'm in limbo, I'm greaving heavily for my old life and scared shitless about my new life which is waiting to happen, I've packed up all my belongings in my holloway flat and waiting to get my keys for a harbour side flat in Falmouth, I've bought two new sets of bedding for myself and about 10 thousand baby outfits.

Whats worrying me the most is my relationship, as I sit in bed with Callum watching coronation street sipping my hot chocolate, both of us freely farting I'm wondering how easy it's going to be holding down the love of my life from Cornwall, who by the way is a not too bad looking 18 year old wannabe rockstar who will still be living in his studio flat in north London whilst I'm wiping sick off of my shoulder and making cooing noises in my sleep.

I keep ringing my mother unable to breath because I'm crying so hard at the thought of losing him, the thought of some young pretty blonde care free girl getting her claws into him (literally) and she keeps telling me "if it's meant to be then it'll be fine" But thats the thing, I dont WANT to test my relationship, I want it to just be us, in our little world, still lying in my bed in my leaking bedroom on holloway road, I want to keep those moments when we listened to the velvet underground and he told me that when I spun around in my dress I looked like I was in a film, and when he's smoking by my window at night time.. when it's just us. I don't want a skype relationship, him coming to see me whenever he can get off work. I just want it to stay as it is.

So why did I do this?

I just don't know, I would never change this, I already love my baby and I can't wait for him to be here, but this middle stage is just torture, the worst part is the boredom, not being able to get a job or focus on anything, just waiting... loads and loads of waiting and crying to my mum.

Oh and the occasional fall out with my friends because we're growing worlds apart, which doesn't help too much.

I'm leaving London this weekend because I can't stand it here anymore, it's too hard to drag it out, I need to get into my new flat, accept my new life and get on with it. Staying here holds too many reminders of what I'm letting go.

So adios London, it's been good and bad, but I've learnt so much.

x

P.s this is me today, eating lasts nights dinner and watching bridget jones.

Maternity clothing rant.

SO! I have an issue.

What the frick is the deal with maternity clothing?

Do stores not realise that 22 year olds have babies too? All the maternity clothing I've found within my price range has been hideous. I thought at least H&M would be on my side but oh how wrong I was, clothes more suited to a 30+ year old. I don't want to be mumsy yet!!! Just because I'm having a baby, why should I dress myself down? why should I wear things which not even my own mum would wear?

HELP ME PLEASE SOMEONE!

It's a boooooooooooyyyyyyyy!!!

ohhh bloody hell haha.

So after years and years of pleading with my mum to give me a little sister, she gives me a little brother instead, then after loads of finger crossing hoping mine is a little girl... I get a boy!!!! I think I am destined to be surrounded by men my whole life.

I was SO sure it was a girl, I nearly bought a little wasp dress and everything, I'm glad I didn't!!

We're trying to think of boys names now, we kind of just thought of lots of girls names, Bella... Bonnie... we had the middle names sorted, I would use my mums mothers name and Callum his Grandmothers name. But um... now.. my dad suggested I use my granddads name, Cyril. I'm sorry Dad, As fond as I am of papa Cyril, I cannot use his name for a poor little baby.

So we're back to the drawing board! I've had so many suggestions from everyone for names but there is nothing that really stands out to me, the search continues!

In other news I'm in the process of the dreaded house moving. I've decided to move back to my home county of Cornwall for a while, Dads sorted me out a flat down there and from what I've seen it looks very posh indeed. However I doubt all will run smoothly, estate agents are like dealing with the devil but fingers crossed ay!

Right now I want to move as soon as I can, I want to start becoming part of a community and meeting other young mums and preggos, I love my friends in London but it's getting to a point now where I can't stay awake (or sociable) after 5 o clock, which is of course when everyone suggests meeting up! So Londons feeling a little lonely these days and there is only so much time Callum and I can spend together before killing eachother... yes we have become those people who sit in bed doing our own thing, him on his phone playing some gangster game and me watching one born every minute, over and over again.

My mum and I are hording together as much stuff as we possibly can! What with her knowing what seems like every mother in Cornwall, she's managed to blag me a fair amount of equipment! I'm so looking forward to buying loads of babygrows and getting my little princes room all set up. I just want to start right now!

Anyway, here's his little sailor outfit.

12 weeks.

Heya all,

So 12 weeks has been a bit of a stressful time for us, we went for our downs syndrome screening scan and the results didn't come back quite how we'd expected. The babies nose bone and neck fluids get measured, the heart is looked at and my bloods are tested. All was well with my blood and the babies neck but the little nose bone didn't show up quite as bright as it should have, also the heart showed a little leak which then resulted in the test coming back as high risk for downs.

The next day I went in at 10.45 for a CVS test ( click here ) A quite invasive test in which they take a sample of the Amniotic fluids, they gave me a local anaesthetic on my tummy with a needle (ouch!) and then put in a long needle about the length of a biro straight into my placenta, it was pretty horrific but Callum was there on hand squeezing duty. Although to be honest it didn't hurt as much as the alcohol cleaning solution dripping down my pants! I was walking like John wayne for a good 20 minutes.

We were told we'd hear back with a 95% accurate test result within three days then a 100% accurate result within two weeks. Luckily they rang us back the next day to tell us that everything was absolutely perfect, no traces of down's syndrome at all! I think it's safe to say we were pretty relieved.

They told us on the initial scan that the reasons for the small nose bone and leaky heart could just be because the baby is still tiny and not quite developed yet, and is something that will most likely get better in a couple of weeks, If the heart doesn't heal then it's not anything life threatening and it's actually what a lot of people live with.

We asked for them to give us a guess on what they think the sex of the baby is and to my excitement they said it's a 60% guess that it's a girl! :) I really hope they're right, I've always wanted a little girl having grown up with three brothers.

Anyway, here's some scan photos :)

Love. xx

Babas first booties! (week 9)

So I've come home to Cornwall for a little while, a week or two, just to chill out and get away from the nasties of London for a while.

Things have been getting strained between Callum and I, with my emotions running extremely high, I haven't been exactly perfect to him, but then, he's not been perfect either, we're both on a very difficult learning curve and having to deal with growing up very quickly in a small amount of time. But Callum, if you read this I need you to know that you are the love of my life, my best friend and my whole world, nothing means more to me than you and the baby, I hold visions of us dancing about the living room with our baby, you singing it to sleep, teaching it guitar and the importance of good music. We can do this and we will, even if you do think that dressing a baby up as a christmas tree is degrading.

Anyway, I came home to babies first pair of booties, scratch mittens and a very fetching night dress reading "Baby on board" on the front of it. I've told my mum I shan't be wearing that.

Lola (my cat) has come with me to keep me company, but so far she's just been hiding under the bed shaking like a shitting dog.

Oh and I got my London college of fashion results for my end of first year, failed every single module... funny that seeing as I only went in about 5 times.

Anyway, here are some nice photos.

(p.s I kinda want to put the booties on the cat.)

little squidge.

Callums version.

8 weeks!

HULLLOOOO.

Soooososooo. Today I went for my consultation with 'special obstetrics' to make sure that I am all clear to go ahead with project baba.

AAAAAAND, I'm all good to go. The worst I'm told to expect is quite bad back pain/pain in my operated areas due to strain, but it's something which will have to be monitored over time.

I can handle pain anyway, I LOOOOVE THE PAIN!

Also, I went down to the early pregnancy clinic and kind of made little moany 'feel sorry for me' noises at them, told them about the severe period pains I've had and sharp abdominal pains....

Ok so I've had hardly any pain at all but I was just so desperate to meet my babe!

So up I hopped fanny-a-free legs swinging onto the bed as she lubed up what looked like something you'd find in the back of Anne Summers andpopped a jonny on it. I nervously laughed wondering why no one else thought it was weird.

then up it popped, as if by magic. My baby. My first baby, my little bit of life. Up on the screen, a tiny heart beat fluttering, "there's the head and there's the bum" To be honest is looked like a big grey smudge, but it choked me. I looked over to Callum who was trying to look all cool and relaxed but I saw that little smile which he quickly tried to hide.

I'll never forget that moment. it was just incredible. I can't wait until week 12 now where I get to see a proper baby shaped thing. with legs and all!

I'll put up a photo tomorrow, Callums having problems working out the technology of an iphone (we took a photo of the screen)

In terms of how I feel physically, I can feel muscles going a bit achey in my belly now, I think that means I'm starting to get fat, I can't wait, people will give me a seat on the tube, I won't have to look at them all sad and start looking like my legs are hurting and I feel faint (I hate standing on the tube) The nausea has subsided for now, but my dreams are pretty vivid, last night I dreamt about a black dude who called himself 'Ice' and dressed all in white and sung to me about the importance of sun cream.

My emotions are ridiculous, crying at the drop of a hat, and not even a little bit, THE WHOLE WORLD IS OVER kind of cry.

Anyway, I'm snoozy now, off to watch more shit t.v while I wait and see if I can go back to work.

Night y'all!

R. x

Love.

The one emotion which has stood out amongst others has been love.

I have never really understood the meaning of love until now, I haven't seen my baby or felt it or even heard it yet but it love it, and my love for Callum is un breakable, I feel like this is the strongest form of love. Us three, just us, is all that matters. x

Bitchin'

So some old trout has taken it upon herself to tell me via facebook to abort my child, obviously I didn't take too kindly to this so I told her to keep her shit to herself.

Bitch went and wrote a little piece on her blog about me, awww, I'm touched, thanks love.

I told my friend to "Abort, abort!", well not my friend, because I was on the bus home and I thought it would be funny. "You know what, that's my fucking kid you're talking about." I deleted her. Because I can't take an internet fight, I always feel guilty and alone afterwards, but I SHOULD have argued about her having it. I should have. Why doesn't anyone else. "You know what, you're fucking 22". Fucking idiot.

So now I'm writing a little blog about you, don't throw your weight about until you fucking educate yourself on the matter, first off you aint shit, you're a try hard poisonous old cow and your dating my sloppy seconds.

no one tells me to abort my baby.

Saturday 19th November 2011.

Look at my boobs!!!!

I've never had such great boobs in my life.

p.s today I tried to take paracetamol, I gagged like a biatch every time one touched my tongue.

I also had to get my flat mate and his girlfriend to clean out the fridge because every time I opened it I had to make a run for the bog.

Joy!

x

7 weeks

Hello,

I thought I'd keep track of my first pregnancy by starting up a blog, This way I can share my experiences without holding back, no sugar coating!

Up until this point.

I found out I was pregnant about three weeks ago, I took three tests over the space of a week, the first came out negative (however it was a flimsy stick I bought from pound land) and the second I did was a clear blue one, it wasn't a digital however so I had to ask my mum to double check it... it kinda went like this... "Uh mum, I think you better come down to my room a minute"

"Rosie this says your pregnant"

"What, no, (insert hysterical panic crying here) I can't keep it, I'm not, I'm too young, It's got to go"

"Rosie, first of all we need to get in touch with your consultant, this could be very dangerous"- (because I've had lots of reconstructive surgery on my pelvis and surrounding tissues following a tumour in my teenage years)

The verdict from my consultant was- I'm at a higher risk than a 'normal' woman of miscarriage, I need to keep that in mind, I will need constant medical supervision and a c-section is absolutely necessary. Fantastic, just like everything else in my life I've run into complications.

I didn't believe the test was true, so the next day I went and bought another, a digital one this time just so it would spell it out to me loud and clear. PREGNANT 3+.

shit.

Callum (the daddy) came all the way to Cornwall from Scotland to support me during the long drawn out and frustrating chats with my parents. He did good, kept me calm and rational.

At this point I'd become emotionally attached to my little seed, this is my baby, my little miracle, My protective mothering streak had kicked in, this was for keeps, nothing is going to hurt my baby.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, I'm back in my flat in London, I've been to my first anti natal appointment at the University College Hospital in Euston, It's lovely in there, my midwife Caroline was amazing, very friendly and thorough. I had all my bloods taken, hight and weight, blood pressure, a whole sea of questions, advise, leaflets, etc.

I'm going back on Tuesday to meet a doctor who will discuss with me my physical well being, in terms of my jigsaw'd together pelvis. Fingers crossed all is safe for my little baba.

Obviously I've had up and down emotions so far, every time I see a pregnant woman or someone with a push chair I want to run full speed to the abortion clinic, freaked out doesn't even cover it, stomach churning anxiety.

But it's just the thought, of harming my own baby, my own kid, who is at this stage starting to look like a human, next week it's little fingers will grow, how can I kill something so incredible? I just need to man up and get down with it.

Anyway, morning sickness is kicking in now, my back is killing, I'm so tired I could cry and I've caught Callums cough. Hurrah!

Until next week.

Rosie.

x