Never under estimate the power of tea

Today, I woke up feeling tired. Mainly because, when I was waking up it was half past 5 in the morning! Secondary to that, I hadn’t managed to drift off to sleep until 1am.
The reason I was awake at that god forsaken hour, the OH was getting up and ready for work. He has an awful cough bless him, and it woke me. Going back to sleep usually isn’t an issue, but… Yes there is a but, M was awake. Crying. His nappy had exploded (not a poo explosion! Thank the lord) it had literally burst, he had drank so much water and squash during the day that his poor little bladder expelled it all in the night.

Baring in mind I wasn’t totally on the ball at that god forsaken hour, I stripped him, put clean PJS on, and realised the bed was full of little jelly crystals. M had to come in to bed with me.

M has been awake since 6.30am approx, awake and wanting cuddles. Darling boy, mummy loves you but then is not the time to want cuddles. I obliged on the cuddles front, I mean I do love a good cuddle. I dozed on and off, he watched cbeebies. Then the dog started barking. Time to get up it would seem.

Even though I am bare bones tired, I feel a bit more like me. Yesterday afternoon helped leaps and bounds it really did.

In preparation for my 12 hour night shift, I am relaxing a little, baking a lemon drizzle cake and drinking some tea.

Never under estimate the power of tea!


Tea, cake and chats

Yesterday, or today (depending on which way you look at it, I haven’t slept yet so technically it’s my today, but still I’m waffling, and in brackets, this isn’t good! Probably a sign I need sleep….)
I spent the afternoon with a very dear friend. What a bloody wonderful friend she is too!
It was exactly what the doctor ordered. It was bloody fabulous, I drank so much tea I am still having to pee it all out (yup I need sleep… Talking about pee indeed!)
I ate some beautiful cake. M was on top form and time got away with me.
We talked about anything and everything as she said we “put the world to rights” better out than in so they say.
I came home this evening feeling content and more like myself. It was just what I needed and after eating cake today it’s made me want to exercise my backside off tomorrow for the flipping dinner next week, but that’s another blog post entirely!


I promised myself on Wednesday evening that I would put on my sports bra and get sweaty in my living room.

I waited until the OH was in the shower, and then got my sweat on.

I did my 30 day shred dvd, I went for it hell for leather. I really did become and exceptionally sweaty mess.

It felt good, the endorphins did their stuff, I felt tired too. A different type of tired to what I have been feeling, a satisfying tired. A tired that said ‘tonight you shall sleep well’.

I didn’t sleep well, I had horrendous, sharp as day nightmares. I struggled through yesterday in a bit of a haze. I managed to smile, to plaster on that lovely smile.

I coped.

I didn’t exercise last night as I had a head splitting headache. I have that same headache today, I feel even more tired today. It isn’t a good tired though, this is a suffocating tiredness.

I am on shift tomorrow evening, I am dreading it a little, especially if I have another crappy night of nightmares.

I am getting there slowly.

I have organised the shit out of stuff, I am getting on top of jobs. I am functioning. I am smiling a little, whether or not I mean to.

I am repairing myself slowly. I need to cut myself some slack though, it has only been a week. A week survived though. A week of many more weeks to come.

Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery…

Yesterday I busied myself with baking and cooking and cleaning. I managed to get through another day.
A week ago today at 3.43pm I started to bleed a little. It didn’t really concern me, I had a slight bleed when I was pregnant with M. I phoned the OH and told him, he told me not to panic, it was probably similar to what happened before. I carried on with work, the bleeding appeared to stop. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I got him.
It was back, not overly concerning, no real pain, I called NHS direct for advice they told me to call out of hours.
I called out of hours, they told me there wasn’t really a lot they could do with it being 8.30pm, if it was to get worse for whatever reason I was to go to A and E.
1.00am I woke and I knew. The pain was intensifying. I popped to the loo and it was red. Blood red. Fresh blood. I panicked, but I knew. By 6am I was in horrific pain, I had been awake most of the night, too afraid to wake the OH up. I must have dozed off because when I woke OH wasn’t there. I phoned him, I told him what was happening and he came home within the hour. Mum was called she was going to look after M. At 9.00am I passed a clot… I knew things weren’t going to end well. We got to A and E at 10.00am, by 10.20am I was seen and I’d passed another clot, this one was different though. The clot was my baby. It was gone. I was no longer pregnant. A long 3 hours took place on the ward and I was allowed home. Allowed home because I wasn’t pregnant and there was nothing that could be done.

It was all done and dusted, as easy as that.
Yesterday I stopped bleeding. It was all over. Physically it is all over.
Emotionally it isn’t, but physically it is.
It’s an odd thing. It’s an odd feeling. Today I wanting to go out and take M to the beach or to go play with his football. Today I want to get active and start working on my mental well being. Today is when I’m going to make a conscious effort to try feel better mentally.
Today will start with a trip to the doctors.
Today will start my recovery!


No more
All gone

I have stopped bleeding. It’s all done. All finished. All gone. 6 days. Done.
6 days I am not easily going to forget. 6 days that have ripped out my heart. 6 days of initial panic. Followed closely by realisation and heart ache.
6 days that changed my life.
6 days I do not want to repeat ever.
6 days that have changed me irreversibly.
6 days to be locked away in a little box.
6 days to be told I should appreciate what I have.
6 days. Done.


Trying… to attempt to do something.

I am attempting to get us organised. I am attempting to appear organised.

I am attempting to go an entire day without crying. So far, so good.

I have managed to send emails, and invoices and general business stuff. This really doesn’t require much effort does it? I mean, I sit in front of the laptop and I type niceties about Christmas fast approaching and what not. I come across cheery in my e-mails. Job done.

I have managed to go through the diary and prioritise what is important and needs my immediate attention.

I have cleaned the bathroom, I have washed, dressed and fed M.

I have put the bins out.

I am now having a cup of tea. I am trying to be normal. I am trying to be Emily. I am trying to be Emily before loosing my baby. I am trying to be Emily before the nightmares. I am trying to be Emily.

I am not doing a very good job as far as I am concerned.

I am fearful the OH is getting tired of my crying, this probably isn’t the case but I am fearful non the less.

I told him I wanted to start my exercise now. I need to do something, he told me not yet. He told me I need to allow my body to heal physically, but what if my mental well being needs it?

If I listen to my body, I know the OH is right.  I know I need to hold out a bit longer.

I had an email today, you know those types of emails you sign up to when you’re all joyous and excited about becoming a mum again, the type of ‘You’re baby is currently the size of *insert fruit*’

It was a kick in the gut. It was a reminder that I didn’t need. I know I am not carrying a child anymore, I have never felt so empty. The sickness has gone, the nice heavy feeling of my uterus has gone. It’s all gone. I am trying. I really am trying. I am going to have to see people on Saturday when I go to work, and then on Sunday when I partake on a course I agreed to do ages ago. I am going to have to see people and laugh and pretend everything is a okay when we go to a Christmas party. I can’t exactly open with… ‘Oh me? Oh, yes I am fine, had a miscarriage the other week but yup, fine and bloody dandy here’. Doesn’t befit social convention.

I have a few friends I have told, some have responded by showing me utmost love and patience and genuine loving concern, then there are the few that appear to be treating me like a leaper. I suppose it’s the not knowing what to say that makes people act this way. It’s a shame that miscarriage isn’t a very spoken about subject, it’s no wonder you feel crushingly alone at times when you don’t even think it’s okay to broach the subject in an open way.

Anyways, I am trying. Trying hard. Too hard? Possibly… Only time will tell.

Wanting company

I’ve been craving company, I’ve not been coping on my own.
I had company. I didn’t particularly cope very well in company either. It wasn’t any ordinary company either, it was family. My wonderful, caring, supportive family.
I struggled. I had to concentrate to hard on conversations. I had to act normal.
It was tough.
When will it get easier? When will I stop feeling so bad? Why is it, today seemed a good day, I woke up and felt happy, then I remember. I’m not pregnant anymore. I don’t feel pregnant anymore. I’m empty. Then today became another day or feeling hurt and upset. Another day of me trying to appreciate what I have instead of dreaming about what could have…