Life After Miscarriage

This post was supposed to be one of excitement, it was one that I couldn’t wait to write, to share with you all.

One that I had dreamed of for many years, the dream of announcing my second pregnancy. A sibling for Leo, a much wanted second baby.

Over the years though, it just hadn’t happened and I could accept that. I knew... or I thought that if I ever did conceive again... that would be the hard part and 9 months later I would welcome our baby into the world. 

Today though, instead of sharing happy news with my little corner of the web, I am announcing the loss of my pregnancy, the loss of our second child.

Our much wanted second child, Leo’s longed for sibling.

Today I am announcing our miscarriage.

Over the past few months I have been writing secret posts, posts that when I read back scream of the excitement and love that I shared in being pregnant and adding a new member to our family.

They make for hard reading now, that smile on my face, the love that already coursed through my veins. 

After the worst happened (I’ll be sharing the whole story), I decided I wasn’t going to post my pregnancy posts, but then I thought ‘woah now that’s just wrong!’, this pregnancy did happen. 

When I look back at those very first posts, the big smile on my face, the look on Luke’s face when he realised we were pregnant again, it has a bittersweet feeling. I was so obliviously happy, so excited for this next chapter of our lives, and I didn’t think for one second that our pregnancy would result in a missed miscarriage. 

This baby was a part of me for all the time that he or she was tucked away in my tummy, and this little baby that was destined not to be is still a part of us today. 

It is a fact that 1 in 4 pregnancies result in a miscarriage, and now I am part of a club that I never wanted to join. A club that I naively thought I never would join, because miscarriages happen to ‘other’ people, they don’t happen to me. 

Boy was I wrong. 

1 in 4 pregnancies result in miscarriage.

I am 1 in 4.

This baby is a part of our story, even if that story does not have a happy ending. 

With that in mind, I’m still going to share my little story with you. The story with a less than happy ending, but a story that happened to me nonetheless. 

A story that happens to 1 in 4 people who get a positive pregnancy test. 

A story that people don’t like to talk about, but a story that needs telling even if people try to shine away from it.

If it can happen to me, it can happen to you.

It’s a story that I go over and over in my mind on a daily basis, one that I can’t escape from, it just keeps on replaying in my mind. 

I was told ‘at this stage it was just a bunch of cells’. 

No. No. No. 

It took us 3 years from the removal of my implant to conceive, 3 fucking years. 3 years of dreaming of a baby, a sibling, 3 years of Leo asking to be a BIG BROTHER, and my body failed us. 

A bunch of cells? No way.

 As soon as that test threw us a little pink line, those little cells meant we were going to be parents again. They meant that Leo was going to welcome his very first baby brother or sister. 

Our baby was never ever ‘just a bunch of cells’. Our futures changed as soon as that pregnancy test presented that second line. 

They changed again the moment we were told ‘I’m sorry but there is no heartbeat’.

A whole lifetime taken away before it even started. A baby we would never know. A piece of the jigsaw that would never fit.

No one wants to talk about miscarriage. 

No one wants to talk about loss, a baby that might have been. 

No one wants to remember a baby that ‘never was’.

I could show you what happened through the pictures I took, I could show you the pregnancy sac, the clots, I could show you, tell you, everything. 

But I won't (howver if you are facing a miscarriage and want to know what to expect, please message me. I'm happy to talk, and know what you are going through, drop me a message!).

I am going to share our story anyway, I am going to smile through the tears and remember how happy we were in those first few weeks knowing that we had a little baby growing away inside. 

I am always going to remember.

Luke will always remember.

Leo will always remember.

Little baby Rose, 30th June 2019 - 20:34.

No life should fit in one little shoe box, no life should be contained within four little walls. 

When a baby is lost in the womb, there is very little to cling to, very little to hold. 

This little box is all we have. 

Leo Turns EIGHT!

Another year has gone by. Another 12 months of growth and learning for that little man of mine.

Only Leo is not so little anymore, he is now 8 years old. It has been 8 years since we embraced his appearance in the world, and not a day has gone by where he hasn’t made us laugh or smile.

It’s been a busy year so far, we have been enjoying lots of time together as a family and Leo’s big day itself was no different.

Leo was so excited for his 8th birthday, he loves nothing more than adding another year to his age digit, but with each year that goes by, the harder I find it to accept. He’s not a little boy anymore, he’s a young child with his own hopes and dreams for the future, he knows what he wants, and it’s our job to help him carve a path to the end goal.

This year Leo hadn’t asked for much at all for his birthday, so we had to get creative. We found a rather lovely electric scooter that we knew would really put a smile on Leo’s face, so we made sure we snapped it right up. We got it all built and in charge so that when he found it the following morning, it was ready to rock and roll.

We actually celebrated Leo’s birthday the evening before this year as Luke had to go away (I expect we will be sharing the details of this in another post very soon!).

We went over to Mr Mulligans Crazy Golf in Cheltenham and had a good giggle (Leo won!). We did break tradition this year, we normally always go to Frankie and Benny’s, but this year Leo wanted a cheeky Nando’s as an alternative. 

I made sure he had his desired chocolate cake (chocolate cake is life for this 8 year old!) and I sneakily added relighting candles... this didn’t go down very well.

Leo spent ages trying to blow his 8 candles out, but then they would simply delight again. I genuinely thought that he would find it incredibly funny and love blowing them all out over and over again.... but unfortunately he was getting irate and this only intensified when I told him that I was responsible for the candle charade...

Naughty Mummy!

I got Breast Augmentation with MYA (Make Yourself Amazing)

I have wondered whether or not I would ever sit down and write this post, but I have had quite a few private messages asking me whether or not I have had a little bit of surgery.... I've always been very honest about the workouts I do and the food I eat, so as with everything else I will always be upfront, because not everything can be obtained through simply living a healthy lifestyle.

That is why after many years of contemplating the idea, I finally decided to go under the knife.

It's something that I have given a lot of thought to ever since I was a young teenager. While every girl I knew blossomed and became a woman, my chest stayed small and flat. As a teenager I can remember feeling very dis-heartened by my lack of breasts, some people even made cruel jokes. 

As I got older though I realised I didn't care anymore. 

I was who I was, there was nothing I or anyone else could do about it.

I met Luke, we fell in love, and he never minded my less than generous chest. A year later we had our baby boy, and aside from wondering if my smaller chest would impact my ability to breastfeed, I didn't really dwell upon the thoughts.

When my desire to have surgery came back to the surface, it was actually following my health and fitness mission. Weight loss had made my already small chest diminish further, I now barely filled an A cup bra, and as happy and as comfortable as I was with my body, I knew that I could be happier by just enhancing my breasts by a few cup sizes. 

What actually cemented my decision to seek out breast augmentation was when Luke asked me to be his wife. It was almost like it was a chain reaction. The thought of trying on wedding dresses both excited me and scared me, I knew now was the time to look into breast augmentation.

I said 'Yes' to the man of my dreams in the December and by January, I was sat in the MYA Consultation office in Birmingham.

MYA had come recommended to me by my friend, and if my results were going to come out anything like her's I would be been over the moon. I booked a consultation online, they ask if you can secure the appointment with card details, as the appointments are only free if you show up, not if you don't.

Luke came along with me to the consultation, I was talked through the procedure and shown a number of different breast implants, heck I even gave them a squeeze. What I found was you can go as quickly or as slowly as you like, as I do with most things in life, I threw myself at it all guns blazing.

I had a look at the different surgeons that were available and was provided with additional information in order to narrow the choice down to one. I decided to go with Dr Tsekouras, he came highly recommended by my coordinator (and when I met him I was so pleased with my choice!).

To secure a surgical date with MYA, we needed to put a substantial deposit down. I believe at this point Luke put £1,000 down to help me make this happen.

With the date booked for 9th February 2019, it was time to start getting everything ready. I was provided with a list of things that I would need in readiness for the surgery and post op. I started buying everything up and getting it all packed into a suitcase ready for the big day.

What to Pack:

- Post Surgical Bras x 2 (I had Macom Signiture and Asda)

- Disposable Ice Packs (& Ice Packs for when you get home)

- V Pillow (You can't sleep sitting up for at least a month after surgery)

- Dry Shampoo

- Sweets

- Lots of snacks

- PJ's and Slippers

- Zip up top/ Onesie for post surgery

I met with Dr Tsekouras to discuss what size implants and how they would be placed on me. Standing there baring my small boobs for a man I had just met and a lady that worked along side him was one of the most embarrassing moments ever. I must have gone bright red, but I told myself that it was all for a good cause.

Implant sizes are measured in CC. and I had set my heart on 350CC implants. It wasn't long before my expectation and my reality took two different paths. Due to my small frame and lack of breast tissue (Ironic? I think so!), I would only be able to have 300CC implants that would be placed partially under the muscle at the top (To reduce the chance of rippling), and over the muscle at the bottom to give it that nice full look. 

Once my surgeon explained his reasoning for the smaller implants and how they were the best sizing for me, I trusted him and went with his recommendations. 

The surgery was to be carried out at the Fitzroy in London, this meant a nice early start for Luke and myself. My admission time was 7:30am, this meant that we had to get from the West Midlands to the centre of London.

We made it armed with all of the weird and wonderful things I was going to need for my adventure into the unknown. I checked into the London Fitzroy and was shown up to a room, I was set to be second surgery of the day.

The morning went by very quickly, and weirdly I did not even feel remotely nervous or scared. The only thing I did feel were those very real hunger pangs that jolted through my stomach as a constant reminder that I couldn't eat. 

Dr Tsekouras came by shortly before I went into surgery and drew some lines on my chest (Something to help him with the incision of the implants), and once that was done, I was shown to a lift and together we walked up to the surgical theatre.

I walked into the operating room and the anaesthetist who had introduced himself upon my arrival waved me in. Before I knew it I was lay on the bed, I had a mask over my face and a IV in my hand. I remember the anaesthetist telling me what he was doing, and the next thing I know is I am waking up in recovery.   

I do re-call being a little confused, I was mainly still hungry though, and that was the first thing I asked 'Can I eat now?'.

The nurses told me that I had been shivering because of the general anaesthetic, that everything had gone really well and that I could now have some food. They had very kindly wrapped me up in a heated blanket so that I could keep warm as my body got over the shock of the anaesthetic. 

I had gone for the surgery around 10:30ish that morning, and it was now coming up to 13:00. It is incredible how quickly the surgery can take place and you be waking up on the other side of it all. 

My stay at the London Fitzroy was amazing, it was an incredible experience and I am so glad that I went for it. I was discharged that very same day and we drove the 2 hour drive back home. They do advise that you stay local to the hospital just in case you need to go back for any reason, for me though I just wanted to get home.

I am now 4 months post op, everything has healed beautifully. My scars are looking amazing, and they are going to continue to get lighter. It is insane how much your breasts change over those first few months following surgery. 

When they were first done, they were swollen and hard like rocks, I remember thinking how un-natural they felt, but now they feel like normal boobs. They have softened and are just so much more natural looking. 

Getting breast augmentation is by far the most selfish thing I have ever done for myself, and it's going to take me a while to pay Luke and my Father back, but equally it's something I wish I had done years ago. 

The healing process went really well. I wouldn't say it was painful (Other people have told me that going under the muscle was awful for them), and I was back on my feet right away. I found that when I was active I felt good, but if I lay down and felt sorry for myself, I would stiffen up and not have a very good time of it.

I may have even done a slow and steady leg session a few days post op... and then I was back on my bike a few days later.

The hardest part for me was not being able to lift my arms or really use them, due to the fact that I had my implants put partially under the muscle, it meant that I had to allow those muscles to recover, and in a sense re-build. I Spent a lot of time getting stuck in tops, poor old Leo had to come to my rescue on more than one occasion.

He literally pulled me out of a dress on one of the days (I was stuck) and instead of pulling it up, he pulled it backwards! We were both a crumpled laughing mess on the floor.

I have gone from barely filling an A cup bra to a 28F (or a 32D if they don't have my back size). So it is probably a good thing that I didn't get the 350CC implants!

No amount of exercise or working out would give me the size I longed for on my chest, there were always going to be clothes I couldn't pull off because of my small bosom. I was really lucky that my family supported my decision and helped me go after a dream that I always thought would remain a dream.

Cosmetic surgery isn't for everyone, it's a very personal decision, but for me it was 100% the right choice, and I am so glad I went with MYA.

Disclaimer: This was funded entirely by myself and my family. All views and opinions expressed are completely honest and my own.

Tourettes - A Diagnosis

We were on our way home from the school run when my phone began to ring. I pulled the car over to find it was an unknown caller ID, I had a feeling it would be about a potential paediatric appointment for Leo. It hadn’t been all that long since we saw the doctor, but I had told her I wanted to be seen as soon as possible.

I missed the call and had no way of calling back, so I could only hope that they would try again. As luck would have it, they did.

I tentatively answered the phone, it was the reception at the clinic. They were advising me that they had a cancellation appointment for the very next day, which of course I snapped up. 

I am very lucky in the sense that work allow me to be flexible, and I knew that school would be more than supportive of us getting back in front of the paediatrician.

I told Leo that we were going back to see the doctor in regards to his tics. Leo and I have talked about his tics in the past, he knows what they are, and we’re very aware that the more anxiety he feels, the more the tics manifest themselves.

Leo was really pleased that we were heading back to the doctor in the wake of the squeal tics that had exploded just before they broke up for the Easter break. Thankfully over the half term they had begun to relinquish their hold, but he was still very twitchy.

When I say twitchy I mean, facial grimaces, blinking, head tilts, lip smacking and even hitting himself. I ignore them all, I want him to let everything out, I want him to feel comfortable and I want him to know that at home with his family is his safe space. When he has attempted to hold them in at school during the day, they fly out like sausages sizzling in a pan. 

I’m certain that’s what happened with the whole squeal tic.

The appointment on this occasion wasn’t at the local hospital, it was the medical centre. As it was a cancellation appointment I didn’t have a letter, just a post code. Luke arrived at work late to pick me up, which meant we to got into town at exactly 10am with no time to spare (yes I was absolutely fuming). The medical centre is in a row of 3 buildings, one being a doctors, one being a pharmacy and the last one being what we needed, if only I had known the exact building...

I wandered into the doctors, lined up for 5 minutes (taking me past our appointment time) only to be told we weren’t in the right place, I was getting so panicked. I had waited years to get in front of this particular paediatrician, and we had MISSED it!

I started plodding back to the car, defeated. When I came across the last building.... and I thought ‘I wonder!’.

Leo and I ran up the stairs to reception, who confirmed that we had found the right place and they would check to see if she would still see us. 

I sat there with everything crossed.

Seconds later the paediatrician walked into the reception and beckoned us to follow her back to her office.

We sat down, and she started talking to us, she already had all of Leo’s information on her computer screen. Details of the last appointment with her colleague, the letter from school about the squeal tic and lots of other historical information. We had recently had an updated educational psychologist in school, which I emailed over to her while we were in the appointment so she could get a feel for how things were going on an educational footing.

She asked Leo questions, Leo answered. She said something along the lines of ‘I can see your having issues with your hands’, I cannot remember the exact wording, but Leo was doing his twitchy tics as I described earlier. I was just glad that they could be observed.

I told her my worry was that she was going to discharge us. I told her I thought that was wrong and that we needed to be on her books going forward. Leo needed the support from the professionals now.

Within about 5 minutes, we had a verbal diagnosis.

‘I think it’s fair to say that because the tics have been in play for over 12 months, and there has been a vocal tic combined with motor tics, I am quite happy to diagnose Tourettes’.

I could have thrown myself across the room and hugged this woman. Finally a reason for Leo as to why he can’t help doing these things. Finally a reason for him to tell people who ask why he can’t stop. 

Finally just a reason.

Leo and I had spoken about Tourettes before, he knew it was just a medical term for his tics. But it means that I could go into school and they could explain it to his class mates.

We talked about potential medication, and both said simultaneously how we didn’t want to medicate. 

She was happy that I was of the same mindset as her. We discussed a potential CAHMS Route at some point in the future if needed, so we could access CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy). At this point though we both agreed that the best way to was to try and manage Leo’s anxiety.

Something we strive to do anyway. The problem is a lot of Leo’s anxiety stems from finding school difficult. Leo goes into year 4 this coming September and I know he finds the expectation very difficult, and I’m sure this is why the squeal tics came to the surface. 

The doctor told us that we would review in the next 6 months, but now we were in the system, if there was a sudden flare up we would be able to get an appointment quicker, and we would get seen. 

So that was that, the appointment came to a close, and it was back to work and school. 

Only this time with a diagnosis.

Tic's, Anxiety & back to the Doctor's

One of the reasons that this blog has been a little (OK neglected) quiet is that with Leo being that much older these days, I’m that more cautious in what I share. I think that is only natural, and as bloggers we have to take a step back and not ‘over share’ in the way we did when they were younger. 

I’ve shared Leo’s struggles with education over the years, and with recent developments I feel that I need to share these posts. 1. To raise awareness and 2. To promote acceptance to diversity.

Some of you may remember me talking about Leo and his tics, when I say tics I mean involuntary movements that he has no control over. 

Some of which are...

Throat clearing, head tilting, lip smacking, squeals, facial grimaces to name a few. 

Stress and anxiety play a pivotal role in being the trigger for the tics to escalate, and a big factor in the nature of Leo's tics.

It all seemed to kick off most profoundly when we were on holiday last year, I noticed that Leo was contorting his face and grimacing on a very regular basis. It become noticeable to my whole family while we were away, and when we got home I mentioned it to Luke.

Luke quickly dismissed it, but then when we went out for dinner one night, he realised for himself. This was July 2018, and I gave it a few months to see what happened with it, but by October it was still a regular occurrence and I decided to book Leo in at the doctors.

We went along and I explained what was going on. I have to be honest and say I was thinking Tourettes, and that is why I was pushing for a referral to finally see a Paediatrician. The Dr at this point didn’t think it was necessary. She said it was more than likely just a phase, one that he would grow out of, Luke was quick to agree with her.

I on the other hand kept on pushing for the referral. 

I left thinking that we weren’t going to get one, but it later transpired that she had indeed referred us. It didn’t come through for months though, and that took us into this year, I want to say March.

It was a cancellation appointment that we eventually received, which I welcomed, but by this point Leo’s tics had really dropped down, and seemed to have gone away for the most part. Still I gladly accepted the appointment, and we went along as a family.

I took the morning off work, school let us pick Leo up and take him (not that they had ever really noticed the tics in school at this point) and off we went.

It was at our local hospital, a nurse called Leo’s name and then they took his height and weight in readiness to work out his BMI, which I knew was ideal.

Then it was time to meet the Paediatrician, he asked us questions, and then asked Leo questions. Some things were just directed at Leo, and others were based just off of his personal observation. 

Leo’s tics were pretty much none existent on this day, not like they were back over the summer and the end of the year. In fact it was almost like the Dr had been right, and it was just a phase.  

It was no surprise to me when we were discharged (all be it with an open invitation to return if needed), which at this point, I didn’t think we would be needing....

April rolled around quickly, just as the months always seem to do these days, it was quickly approaching Easter and the children were all dreaming of the Easter Bunny and chocolate. 

I was on the school run, just like I do everyday, the bell rang and his teacher was spotting parents and matching them up with their children. 

I spied Leo, and out he came. Throwing his bag at me for me to carry so he could run around. I asked him how his day was, he replied but there was something different. There was a squeal. A high pitched squeal. 

A squeal coming from Leo every couple of seconds. We got back to the car, it was still there. 

We drove home. It was still there and boy did it make me jump on a number of occasions.

We got home, he did his reading, he was so twitchy. His faces were back, he was hitting himself. And there was the squeal.

I knew this was a tic, he has had it briefly before but never as aggressively as this. I didn’t mention it to Leo, one way to really knock a child is to tell them to stop doing something that they have no control over. 

I’ve always found the best way to deal with tics is to just ignore them, but when it’s s vocal tic with the nature that this one had, I knew I was going to have to address if first thing in the morning at school. 

Leo did bring this tic up with me though, he told me how he was worried he was going to get into trouble and that he couldn't help it. 

I ran Leo a big bubble bath, I got him into his PJ’s and read him a story.

The squeal continued. 

Once Leo was tucked up in bed, I went downstairs. I sat on the sofa in silence and the squeal continued, it went on until eventually Leo fell asleep.

The next morning I took Leo to school. He went in absolutely fine, but inside my own stomach I had that sinking feeling, the feeling that meant I didn’t want to send him in. I just had a foreboding feeling that this was not going into be a good day.

I spoke to his teacher. I played her a recording of the squeal so she could gauge how consistent it had been over that evening. I explained everything I have written here in this blog entry. She had not noticed it the day before, and I couldn’t put a marker on what would have caused it, he had been his usual self that morning previous as I dropped him off.

My biggest concerns were other children being nasty, or Leo getting in to trouble for being disruptive. 

Then I went off to work. By about 1 pm that day I had a call. A call from school. I knew it wasn’t good news. 

It was our SEN teacher advising me that Leo’s squeal tic had been very prominent in class, and it had caused class mates to laugh at him. Some told him to stop, others that he was annoying... it didn’t help his confidence one little bit, and I knew that this would have knocked him for 6.

I was tearing up, the last thing I wanted to do at work, but they fell none the less. 

Leo was upset so they had taken him out of class and created a worry box, they discussed things he was worried about, and while Leo wasn’t in class, they spoke to the children about kindness and how Leo couldn’t help it, and he couldn’t stop it.

It’s a hard thing to explain to a class of 7/8 year old's.

This was 2 days before the school closed for half term, I asked the SEN teacher to put this In writing for me so I could use it as evidence for the doctors appointment I was going to be booking. By the time I collected Leo that afternoon, I had the written evidence in my hand.

Leo was so twitchy. It broke my heart, he looked broken. The squeal was still there, his shoulders twitched and his head was flicking. 

The tics were back worse than ever.

Some of the boys he called friends had fallen out with him. But other boys had taken him under their wing, and for that I will be forever grateful. 

I spoiled him rotten that night. A trip to Tesco’s for a new tin of Pokemon cards, the new boys he was playing with had battles at lunch, and Leo wanted to join in. A tub of lavender Radox, lavender spray for his pillows and a McDonald’s for dinner.

We got home and I knew I had to try and get him as relaxed as I could, and that was the start of our nightly bubble bath I would run for him regardless as to whether or not he needed one.

I called the doctors the following morning and explained I needed an urgent appointment with our doctor as soon as possible. I wanted her to see the tics and how aggressive and frequent they were at this point. 

We got one quickly, the squeal tics were still there when we went, which in a way I was pleased about because it meant she had no choice but to hear it, to witness it as we all had.

As we sat in the waiting area, the tics came fast and thick. I could feel the watchful eyes of other people, other parents judging me. Silently telling me to address the situation with my 'disruptive' child.

I sat there daring anyone to address me. Nobody did.

 Our Doctor called us in. I told her we needed referring again, and she agreed it could be neurological. Which was a step in the right direction, and eliminated the phase idea that was proposed on our last visit. 

Now it was a waiting game again.... but thankfully we were lucky enough to get another cancellation appointment in May.

To be continued...

A little Bit of News...

Well it has been a good old long time since I have dusted off the keyboard and started to write a new post on this here blog.

There are so many reasons why I haven’t, I guess the first and most relevant one is this... Luke and I are in the process of trying to buy a house and sell his flat. We have been in a chain since October 2018, a chain that got within signing reach of exchange... only for Luke’s buyer to pull out just before.

Of course I have my whole house in boxes, the computer is currently on the floor and not really in a place that encourages me to go and type at (hence why I am writing this on my phone #BadBlogger).



We did manage to rebuild the chain, but that was short lived and Luke’s buyer was unable to proceed, which meant we lost our dream home once again.

Just this week, we found a new buyer for Luke’s flat. The home we want, our home is still available... so hopefully we will be able to rebuild the chain for a 3rd time.

It is suffice to say that when we do eventually move... I am never moving ever again.

Another big bit of news is, that back in December... Luke finally asked me to be his wife! That is right... we got ENGAGED!





I will be writing a more detailed post on this very soon, because it was very romantic and very unexpected, and yes I did cry!

Finally we have had a lot going on with Leo, I won’t go into it all in this post because it’s going to easily be 2 to 3 posts when I get it all down and out of my head. He’s doing brilliantly, but that’s all thanks to the amazing support network he has around him.



We have just got back from a holiday to Cyprus, and I foresee a busy year ahead of us. So I thought it was time to dust off the blog and get back to what I love.

Sometimes you just need a long old break to reignite the love you have for something, and I look forward to catching up with everyone.

I have already started drafting up some of our latest adventures, I know that posts have been offline and the tumble weeds have been rife... I will do better and can see 2019 being a great year!