The ‘Norm’

Most parenting stories start with two people meeting, falling in love and either deciding to have kids (or, I guess, accidently having kids)
And I suppose my decision to have children on my own with a donor is a break away from that ‘norm’.
Or is it?
My parenting story starts like most others, I met a man, we fell in love and we decided to have children.
However, after I got pregnant with our son, he left.
So that’s where the ‘norm’ ends, but it started like any other.
Now most people would, I guess, continue raising their son and wait for the love story to start again, to meet another man and decide to have kids with him.
My parenting story has started, and time was ticking, not my biological clock, as is normally mentioned in single mum by choice stories, but my sons.
I’ve always known I wanted my children close in age, that was the plan from the beginning, and the longer I waited for my next love story the bigger that age gap was growing.
It wasn’t my sons fault that he wasn’t growing up in the dream family, mum, dad, 2.4 kids and a dog, so why, when it was completely in my control should I deprive him of what I COULD give him of that?
He has a mum. Not a perfect one, but one who’s trying her best, and he has a dog (and a cat) whom he loves (sometimes too tightly) I can’t force a man to join our little tribe, I’m afraid that one is out of my control, but children I could do. I could add to our little family.
So to me it didn’t seem like a crazy decision, it seemed like the next logical step in building my family without the surprise arrival of prince charming.

Since I went public (in my real life) about the fact these babies are from a sperm donor and that I am going it alone, I haven’t had a single negative comment.
Mostly shock, yes, it’s not a standard announcement, but nothing negative.
Lots of ‘good on you’s and lots of ‘you’re very brave’ (I’m not sure if that’s directed at the on my own, or the twin thing!) I’m not sure if I am brave, or stupid, I guess I’ll find out in September!
And maybe that is a sign of the times and growing acceptance around different family setups, or maybe they’re all being negative behind my back, who knows, but I definitely haven’t had a single second of doubt or regret, I honestly believe that this decision is the right one for my current family, and, I hope my twins will grow up to believe it was the right decision for them, too. There’s plenty of love here to go around.


Viability Scan

So after weeks of feeling rubbish, only leaving the sofa for work and throwing up I scraped myself up and went for my viability scan today. This scan essentially shows that baby is there, in the right place and maybe, if you’re lucky, a heartbeat.

I wasn’t looking forward to this appointment, after three weeks of spotting I was pretty sure that something would have gone wrong, that baby would have stopped developing and all my symptoms would have been for nothing, so me and my mum sat in the waiting room nervously.

The sonographer was lovely and quickly got down to the scan. She turned the screen towards herself to start with and I closed my eyes and waited for the ‘I’m sorry’ but within a few seconds she said ‘so you had a double transfer’ I said ‘yes…’ and she goes ‘well you have two lovely babies in there…’ and she turned the screen towards me and you could clearly see both sacs and two little babies. She then focused on each in turn showing me their little ticking hearts and I relaxed. Mum pointed out that she hadn’t seen me that happy in months.


Now I know it was a risk that I would end up with twins with a double transfer, but it also increased the chances of atleast one of them sticking at all, which after all this time of failed treatments and false starts, seemed worth it to me, however I really didn’t expect them both to stick around!

This will be a challenge, as obviously it is only me, and I will now have two newborns to look after on my own, and it is extra pressure on my parents who will have the babies when I’m at work, this is something I am aware of and will have to make sure they don’t feel it’s too much for them, if it is I will have to rethink a few things…

Twins however come with advantages… they will always have each other, and knowing that their family is a little different I think this will really help them not to feel alone, and when the time comes to maybe contact their donor, they have each other who know exactly what they’re going through. It was always my plan to have two more babies, they just came on a BOGOF offer instead of four years apart as I was planning.

So now I have to keep those two little hearts beating for 7 more months and grow these two little aphids into beautiful babies. It will be added pressure on my body, but the hospital will keep a close eye on me so I have every hope that we will make it and that September will welcome two little bundles into my family.

6 Weeks and Morning Sickness

‘How are you?’ ‘ I feel sick and everything smells!’

Heightened sense of smell isn’t something I experienced before and I can’t say I’m enjoying it! I can smell slight changes in the air in my house, I can smell myself even though I’ve just showered, I can smell food a room away… it’s a nightmare!

On Wednesday I turned 6 weeks pregnant! What! This is a milestone for me that I was simultaneously hoping to reach, and dreading; at 6 weeks during both my previous pregnancies morning sickness has kicked in.

This pregnancy has not disappointed, in fact, from around 5 weeks food aversions and slight nausea started, getting progressively worse until 6 weeks… Wednesday, and bam. I couldn’t look at food, and I threw up!

But this pregnancy is different. In fact, each of mine have been. In my first I was working full time. I was fine, nauseous and running to the toilet throughout the workday to throw up, but I had warning, could get across a shop floor, upstairs and into the toilet before hurling. In my second I wasn’t working. I started off in my own house, and ended up staying at my parents in bed hugging a bowl for 2 months with a slight detour via hospital being hooked up to a drip for 3 days. The throwing up was instantaneous with no warning, but afterwards I was ok, and able to eat my dinner. However I still managed to lose nearly 2 stone. This one? CONSTANT nausea, but I seem to be able to mostly hold off the sickness with deep breathing and thinking of ANYTHING other than food!

But this is tough. Last time I didn’t have any other commitments, I was able to spend 2 months in bed, this time I have a job and a 4 year old… how are you meant to feel so completely rough and still be around to do what you need to do? School runs and shifts and appointments, when all you want to do is lay in bed and cuddle a bowl!

To top all of this off, the spotting has continued for over a week now, getting no worse but no better either. Still brown not red and the clinic have said not to worry… easier said than done! What if this pregnancy is all over already and I’m putting up with this morning sickness for nothing?? I literally will not relax til I see on a scan that Aphid is ok, and even then, relax is a strong word! I can’t see me doing much of that for the next 7 months!

Hopefully everything is ok, the spotting is just one of those things and the morning sickness is the positive sign I have always previously taken it to be!

Happy Single

It’s taken a long time and a lot of fails to come to this realisation, but maybe it’s something I always knew deep down – I’m happy single. Better off single.

I’ve always liked my own company, never one to seek out others. Relationships make me uncomfortable, yeah cuddles on the sofa are lovely, but having them about 24/7? Telling them everything? Compromise? Maybe I’ve just been single for too long and am too set in my ways, but whatever the reason I’m happy with the outcome.

This is not all to say that if Mr Right walked headfirst into me that I’d send him away again, but I’m not looking, definitely not settling and I shall live my life to the fullest and if I never meet someone I shall die knowing I enjoyed my life and made the right choice.


I’m often coming up with things to keep and save to show to Jackson when he’s a bit older and when I mention them to people they tend to go ‘oh I hadn’t even thought of that’ so I thought I’d compile a list:

  • My pregnancy test! I just couldn’t bring myself to throw it away! The start of the journey.
  • The hat the hospital put him in – not that it stayed on for 5 mins, big head!
  • The sensors from the tests he had at the NICU that the nurse kindly gave to me.
  • His umbilical cord clip. I drew the line at the actual shrivelled cord and threw that out in disgust!
  • His first size nappy (unused!) even looking back now I cannot believe he was that small!
  • I wish I had managed to get a newspaper the day he was born but I only thought of this a week later and it was too late by then.
  • I saved the Argos catalogue from the season and year he was born (spring/summer 2014) so that when he is older he can look back at what was around when he was born, how old fashioned the people look, how low tech the toys are and LOOK at those phones, they’re huge!
  • His first size nappy (unused!) even looking back now I cannot believe he was that small!
  • His first shoes. Everyone does this right?
  • Any currency that disappears during his lifetime. I’m going to keep a purse filled with it, starting with the old paper £5 note. Otherwise when he’s a bit older he won’t believe that notes were once paper and we all hated the plastic replacements! And now I’m adding an old £1 coin, round and one colour? He will never believe it!


Have you kept anything else? I’d love to get more ideas, and I might add them to this list so please let me know!!


I lay, scrunched up, in the toddler bed. My arms wrapped around my infant, eyes tight shut, feeling them breathe, listening to ‘Bing’ playing on my phone. Through my closed eyelids I can almost see the pink, floral bedsheets over us, the mousey blonde hair trailed over the pillow, the Disney princesses staring down at us from the walls and the vividly pink curtains lit by the headlights of the passing cars. Yesterday’s dress thrown carelessly on the floor and a doll propped up on the bookcase. 

I lay there totally absorbed in the fantasy that I am there with my three year old little girl, that she’s just had a busy day at nursery and we are relaxing together waiting for her eyes to grow heavy and for her to fall asleep.

I don’t want to open my eyes, to shatter the illusion I’ve created, but I must. ‘Bing’ is finished and my son shouts ‘Mummy!’ demanding that I put on another. 

So I open my eyes and it takes a second to adjust to what I’m seeing, my two year old son, short brown hair, laying in his rainbow duvet staring expectantly at me completely unaware of the war going on in my head fighting to adjust back to reality. I put on another episode and hug him close staring around his rainbow room. 

My rainbow baby.


I’m not enjoying being a mum at the moment. And that’s horrible, and hard to say. Don’t get me wrong, after all I’ve been through I love and cherish him, I still watch him sleep and marvel that he’s here that he’s perfect and that he’s mine, but the actual task of parenting? Well that’s hard.

I’m barely away from him so every grumble, annoyance and irritance is magnified, I get that, but I can’t do right by him at the moment and it’s getting me down.

He learnt the word ‘no’ recently, and great as it is that his vocabulary is growing, this word has caused a number of problems. He uses it whatever he means. Even if he wants something he will say ‘no’, so you offer him something, he says ‘no’ and then will grab it off you, but if you bare that in mind and offer it again after he’s said no the ‘no’ becomes a ‘NO’ and he will scream at you…

He doesn’t go in his carseat. At all. We have had hour long tantrums over this on the drive outside. Neighbours coming out to see where the toddler was being murdered. But I’m not talking one offs (obviously some times are worse than others) but he will run off screaming as soon as he realises I want him in his carseat. It becomes a physical fight to get him strapped in, and as soon as he is his arms are wriggled out, I’m fighting a losing battle. Once he realises I want him in the car he will head off as if to walk instead, so I take him out for a walk, he doesn’t want to walk, he wants to be carried the whole way and if I try to make him walk the screaming ensues again, running after me down the street, hollering.

I’m pretty sure half my day consists of screaming.

Yesterday I got home from work and he wanted boob, I’m trying to stop him having it during the day, especially then, less than an hour before the roast my mum was cooking, he screamed for the hour. Solid. I hid in another room and he stopped. I ate my tea in another room and he ate his good as gold with my mum and dad. He sees me as a giant milk bottle, nothing more.

This morning he woke up at 6am and I stopped him helping himself to milk. He screamed for 2 hours almost solid, climbing over me, ripping at my clothes.

This has to be a phase. This HAS to be a phase and it really needs to be over quickly because I thought I was a strong person but doing EVERYTHING wrong in his eyes is breaking me.

Better Off Single?

I’m a strong independent woman.

Atleast that’s what I told myself repeatedly whilst I was in labour to stop myself panicking at the unimaginable pain and the absolute terror that I was about to become a single mum.

And for the most part I am! I can fend for myself, I earn my money, I pay my bills, I look after my son, but there’s that niggle in the back of my mind that I’m not good enough, that I’m not truly independent.

I guess that comes to the fore when I’m in a relationship, I’m fiercely independent, I’ll offer to pay, I’ll not let you do things for me and I’ll complain when you buy me things, but deep down I need constant reassurance that I’m enough.

And that’s part of why I both love and hate relationships. The companionship is great, having someone to share things with, but relying on someone for my happiness? I’m happy when I’m single, but put me in a relationship and I cave into a self doubting monster, and I know why, it’s because I’ve never been enough before; no one has stayed so why should this one? I’m a single mother with a flabby belly who’s idea of fun is watching crap tv with a glass of wine. What a catch. I guess a part of me thinks if I was going to meet someone it would have been before I gained a whole extra list of flaws apart from the obvious personality and bad sense of humour!

Maybe the answer for me is to stay single, to know that I am missing out on a whole other half of life, a life shared, but atleast I won’t have to rely on someone else to constantly reassure me.

A Cowards Breakup

I hoped to be writing here in a few months about how happiness is possible, about how men who are willing to take on a single mum and all her baggage do exist, about blended families and trips to the park. But no, once again I’m here, broken and alone wondering which of my many flaws drove this guy away.

Was it my saggy belly, my wonky tits, my sleep-adverse toddler, my bad choice in tv, my questionable sense of humour or just me. Maybe I just drove him away by being me. Who knows. He certainly won’t tell me since he basically won’t reply to anything. I’m guessing it’s his terrible way of breaking up with me painlessly. For him. For me it just makes me question everything. Did he ever even like me in the first place?! It’s perhaps the most painful way to break up with someone, with no reason. It’s happened to me twice in quick succession now and I can tell you my confidence has never been knocked more. If he told me it was because of my wonky tits I could laugh it off, tell my friends and call him shallow. But with no reason forthcoming I am forced to go over it in my own head, and we are our own harshest critics, this means every slight issue I can see with myself if magnified, brought under scrutiny and my confidence lays on the floor in tatters. Again.

It took a lot for me to date after having kids. My body isn’t what it was and emotionally I’m drained most of the time, not to mention the fact that my last serious relationship with my babies dad stole all my confidence in men being able to stick around.

But I did, it ended suddenly 2 months later with ‘we aren’t compatible’ and I tore myself apart, broke myself down to the very components of me trying to work out what I had done, which parts weren’t compatible. Months later I plucked up the courage to try again, but after 6 weeks of what I thought was going well, I’m suddenly ignored, reassured, then ignored again. So here I am again, picking away at the very fibres that make me, me wondering what it was this time that drove him away?

Maybe I’m not strong enough to date. I know it’ll take a while for me to even get back to me again, so maybe I should leave men alone and focus on me again, get back to happy me so I can be there for my son as best I can on my own. Some people are better on their own, maybe that’s me.

Dating Me

I read an article earlier about dating a single mum and while most of it rang true, some parts weren’t quite right for me so I thought I’d write my own.

I’m independent. Don’t assume that because I’m a single mum I am needy and desperate and looking for a daddy to complete my family and settle down with. Infact completely the opposite. I’m independent, I own my own house I pay my own bills and I look after me and my son, I don’t NEED anybody. I’m looking for a man to be my partner, to maybe take me out of my house on dates, to show me what I’ve missed in the last couple of years of parenthood, of play dates and nappies, to get to know me and like me and then and only then can he meet and get to know my son. If my son doesn’t like him, it’s out the door I’m afraid. It’s been the two of us before and it can be again, don’t think for one second you will ever be more important to me than him! 

I want someone who wants me. I’ve had bad relationships, well, one in particular, so I know how they go. I don’t want another one. I want someone who wants to talk to me, who wakes up in the morning and wants to text me, even just to say hi. I’m needed 24/7 by my son, it’s the thing I’ve missed most, being able to rely on someone to be there when I need them

Be reliable. Again, I’ve had my fill of ‘I’ll be there at such and such’ to turn up 2 hours later with a feeble excuse. If I’ve managed to get someone (probably my parents) to babysit for me then time is precious. I’ve made a decision to spend that time with you, the least you can do is turn up and spend it with me! 

Accept that I won’t be able to see you much. Time will have to be grabbed when it can be, and planned in advance, you won’t be meeting my son for months so I’ll have to get someone to look after him to see you. That means putting other people out and missing time with my son, both of which I hate doing, so you’d better be worth my effort.

Don’t waste my time. Time is precious and I’m not up for pointless dating any more. I don’t want to go out a few times for you to decide you don’t have time for this or can’t see a child in your future. I am looking for something special so if that’s definitely not you then please step aside so I can find someone it is.

Be honest with me. I don’t ask much, just if things aren’t going how you want or you don’t think you can deal with my son, for example, that’s fine, just tell me. If we can work on it we can try if not then we part ways, but atleast we will both know we tried everything we could and part ways on friendly terms rather than you getting cold feet about something and instead of talking it out, either going off and finding someone else, or ignoring me for days followed by a vague text that shakes my confidence and tortures me for months into wondering what I did. I’m too old and too tired for teenage games, I just want honesty, and I’ll return the favour, possibly too much. 

Accept my sons dad. I may not sing his praises, but he will be around and about us for the next 16 years (atleast). We are coparenting so he gets a say in all decisions, you don’t. Obviously you can express your opinions to me, but ultimately it’s down to me and his dad. 

Enjoy Us. Being a family is great, and if you accept all the above, we fall in love, my son accepts you, then that’s what we will be, a funny shaped, slightly kooky family, perfect for days at the beach, movie nights, theme park rides and holidays. 

  • An 'Angel Baby' is a baby lost during pregnancy or early childhood, who sleeps in the clouds instead of our arms.

    A 'Rainbow Baby' is a baby born following the loss of an 'Angel Baby', a beacon of hope after a storm, while not denying the storm happened.

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