Happy New Year

What a year it’s been!

I dreaded the year 2013 for a number of reasons. I dreaded it on superstitious grounds and I dreaded even more that it was the year I was to turn 40 and it seemed I hadn’t achieved a fricking thing in my 40 years.

The beginning of the year sucked. It sucked big time. It sucked because I wasn’t in a good place, not a good place at all and couldn’t see a way out of it.

I hated my job, now don’t get me wrong I love my clients and love the job I do but hate it in equal measures. I screwed up, I wish, oh how I wish, I’d done nursing years ago but I didn’t and that I’ll always regret. I haven’t been able to pursue a career that utilises my BSc degree for reasons I shan’t go into. Instead I’m currently, for the want of a job, working in the community for a living. I’ve regressed not progressed and this sickens, angers and embarrasses me. I remember my mum telling me not to waste my life like she did (not that she did, far from it, she achieved so much and was a success in whatever she set her mind to). I’m ashamed to say I’ve let my beautiful mum down and this shames me. She could see in me what I fail to. I know I can achieve so much more but fail in the courage and self confidence to start. She was my cattle prod and without her I’ve kind of turned into a lost soul just bimbling along with no direction. I screw up interviews for reasons I still fail to understand all I want to do is shout “give me a chance and I’ll show you”, I’m left barely remembering my own name I’m so scared. I have, however, started a management course so I can gain some good out of my current not ideal situation.

Things at home weren’t going well. The black dog seemed to be a permanent fixture in our tiny flat now and there really wasn’t any room for it. For four years the one thing that should be so easy had eluded us. Three failed pregnancies and months of living life by what a pee stick said had started a rot that was eating deeper and deeper into our very core with every monthly disappointment it just deepened and I don’t think either of us had realised how it was affecting us until we later reflected on it.

These two things in turn has made me miss home. I miss it desperately. I don’t feel like I belong here and don’t think I ever will. I’m a small town girl and love the small town life but since moving here I’ve realised that small town life can be tough when you don’t belong to that particular small town. You don’t know who to trust, people stab you in the back and make snide remarks behind your back whilst on the front of it appear to be your friend. I actually think it’s worse here than it is back home, or perhaps that’s because at home I know those are the people you avoid and this lesson you learn at school, you’re not fooled by their dishonesty because you’ve always known that’s the sort if person they are. I have however met three beautiful people (alongside my other half) who I am eternally grateful to have met, friends I class as true, for this I feel blessed and they keep me sane here.

In April things started to change.

I found out I was pregnant again.

This news was met with a kind of complacency. Here we go again. We were almost awaiting the disappointment. Every trip to the toilet was met with mild anxiety expecting to find blood once more. Fortnightly scans started at 6 weeks gestation. The biggy was the 12 week scan as this was the point we miscarried or discovered the pregnancy wasn’t viable. It was always going to be an anxious time.

Then came the whammy.

My Dad went into hospital to have his eyes checked as his vision had started to become blurry. To cut a long story short he had a scan which showed several tumours in his spine, skull and something in his chest cavity. My world seemed to fall apart. I couldn’t lose another parent to cancer, I just couldn’t. I hadn’t even told him I was pregnant. Needless to say, I told him. We had to sit and wait. He had biopsies and further scans and the results would be in on the same day as our scan.

The 20th May was always going to be an emotional day made more so now. It could turn out to be bittersweet, bitter or sweet. Thankfully it was a sweet(ish) day. The scan was fine, our bean was doing really well.

My dad, on the other hand, informed us that he had multiple myeloma. He told us that it wasn’t curable but it was manageable and thus started months of chemotherapy, bone strengthening and back surgery to ‘fill’ the holes the myeloma had created in his spine. The chemotherapy was set to end just before his birthday, just after my due date at the end of November. All this went according to plan and in October he told us that the myeloma was in remission for now and he could stop his chemotherapy a month early. Now we know that this is only a temporary thing and that the myeloma will return but it’s nice to know the drugs did work and when it does return his body should hopefully respond well to the next round of treatment. He has been so incredibly brave and bore this with such courage I am so proud of him and love him so much.

My fortieth came round in August, of course all my plans of an Alton Towers party full of adrenalin fuelled rides and alcohol had to be shelved and I wasn’t sure how I’d cope not being a fan of birthdays at the best of times. As it turned out I had an amazing day laid on by my amazing other half. The black dog had been well and truly banished from our lives, in fact from the instant those little blue lines appeared he did one and hasn’t been seen since allowing us to bridge the distance he had created.

As regards my pregnancy, of which you probably know the outcome, apart from a couple of scares at 16 and 20 weeks it all went well. I made it my job to be as fit and healthy as I could be doing daily prenatal workouts and yoga as soon as I was released from strict midwife instructions at 16 weeks. I strongly believe this is the reason my pregnancy was relatively pain free and labour was as quick and ‘easy’ as it was. It may well be coincidence but I like to think it helped.

My beautiful baby boy has captured our hearts and for five weeks has been the centre of our universe and will now continue to be for the rest of our lives and I can’t imagine a time that he wasn’t there.

My dear Dad continues to improve and is still currently in remission we are awaiting the latest biopsy results later in January.

The black dog continues to leave us in peace.

I continue with my study, although it’s on hold at this present moment in time, and hope to make changes in the new year where work is concerned.

Being forty isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be although I do wonder whether being a new mum at forty is easier or harder than if I was in my twenties. I’m just glad I got as fit as I could when I could to help me along.

In a nutshell the year started pretty shittily but has turned out to be the most amazing year of my life.

Thank you 2013 for the most wonderful things you have provided but I’m excited to see what 2014 has to offer in my new role.

An inspirational friend of mine wrote yesterday:

“Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one!” – I fully intend to Romaine.

Move over 2013, your time is up!

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