Tag: baby

What’s been happening with Ophelia…

30 weeks pregnant .jpg

Being open and transparent can be difficult sometimes when I’ve made my life into a job and things don’t go all that great. But none the less eventually I will share it. As most of you know, the past week or so has been pretty hectic and shitty and I’d taken some time off to just recuperate and focus on my body and Ophelia.

I just want to say how thankful I am for all your messages, I literally received over a hundred and I wasn’t able to reply to all of you, but I read each one and it was so lovely that so many of you wished us well.

ophelia 30 weeksSo, to fill you in fully on what’s been going on, (if you haven’t been blessed with a rambling stream of consciousness with a dog filter on my face already) I had my 28-week growth scan and everything was fine, she was even weighing just on the edge of too big. But about two days later I stopped feeling her moving around, before she would be constantly winding me or kicking my bladder to the point id leak a little (So glamourous).

But I’d noticed I’d not felt her move in a few hours, so I called up MAU (Maternity Assessment Unit) because I know how important the movements your baby shows can be. Any change in your baby’s movements can be a sign of a problem, even if they are still moving but not at the same rate as before, or it feels different, they could be at a serious risk. A reduce in movements can be directly linked to still birth, which is any expectant mother’s nightmare, so it doesn’t matter if you feel like you’re pestering people, it is better to be safe than sorry.

The MAU midwives told me to come straight in to be put on the CTG monitor andIMG_20180523_104441_491 arranged for a doppler to be done the following day. Every midwife I see reassures me that it doesn’t matter how many times I call them or how many times I visit and get checked i should always never hesitate. But still, you feel like you’re constantly pestering them like a buzzing gnat. Still, I went in the following day for my doppler.

A doppler is an ultrasound scan used to measure the blood flow to the baby, the uterus and the placenta.

It turned out that she hadn’t been moving much because my placenta was not working sufficiently, and the blood flow was not getting to her fully. Sort of like a hose, if you bend a hosepipe the water can still trickle through but at a slow pace and at a decreased amount, this was what was happening with the blood vessels, they were providing her with enough oxygen to survive but not enough for a normal pregnancy. Therefore, my pregnancy very suddenly became high risk and a happy hopeful me turned into a blubbering, paranoid, psychotic.

20180522_150334The midwives and doctors all talked me through what it meant, that it doesn’t necessarily mean the worst or that she’s suffering, just that they need to watch her constantly and be prepared that at any point she might need to come out.

I was 30 weeks pregnant exactly. At 30 weeks Ophelia is around the size of a large cabbage (although considering she was chunky she was probs more like the cabbage in Wallace and Gromit) and weighed around 3lbs. She is fully developed but there is some fine tuning to be done in order for her to survive without intervention, her lungs still need to mature and intricate details are still being worked on like the grooves in her brain. However, if she was to be born now she would have a 97% chance of survival with medical intervention, she would have to stay in ICU until she could breathe without machinery but there is no guarantee she wouldn’t have problems or develop serious conditions later on in her life.

Still 97% survival was all that mattered.

From then on, we have been going to the hospital every single day to be monitored. The CTG shows she is still fairly happy being inside my womb and although I cannot feel her moving as much she is doing fine. We have been having doppler scans twice a week and the most recent one we had showed a significant improvement. The blood flow to her is increasing each time we go to the hospital and she’s just started to move around like she used to before.

We can breathe a sigh of relief now knowing that we still have a few more weeks Screenshot_20180521-201221(hopefully) before she arrives so can hurriedly start painting the nursery. The blood flow to her is consistently being monitored and her heart rate is being measured daily to make sure she is not in any distress and that is all we can do. All we can do is wait and hope that everything will be fine, but I have a positive view and think it will be fine, she will just be joining us a lot quicker than we originally expected!

In the meantime, I’m literally exhausted, I’ve been napping repetitively and managed to get through 13 reasons why in just 3 days (which to my sister would be an absolute failure). There literally isn’t really much more to tell, we are taking each day as it comes but each day she is moving around a bit more and my body is showing signs of improvement.

Again, thank you all so much for your messages over the past week, its meant a lot! And I’ve actually rather enjoyed not being on my phone or on social media for a while, its been quite refreshing for me, but as much as I wanna lie around watching reruns of Come Dine With Me I have to get back to doing normal work.

But it is important to take time away sometimes, and these past few days of recuperation have been revitalising and enabled my body to continue to grow my chubby cheeked and large nosed Ophelia.

xoxo


 

Instagram

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest


 

Click on the image to read the post!

title with credentials

Processed with VSCO with c7 preset

Processed with VSCO with c7 preset

how i bought a house

Advertisements

Baby Name Reveal

I was very up in the air with whether we were going to announce Baby Bathgate’s name before she was born, purely on the basis that everyone has opinions and despite being clear on her name people still feel the need to say to me ‘but what about…’ like, you think I didn’t go through every single tedious blog post of popular baby names? Or stand in Waterstones reading pages and pages of ‘The most unusual baby names 2018?’ before I finally came back to the very first decision we ever made (before she was even conceived).

A lot of people say to me ‘oh but as soon as you see her you’ll probably change your mind, you never know’ and this is true, I don’t know for definite that when I’ve been in agony for 24+ hours and high on any drug available I wont suddenly decide to change my mind. But I’m 99.9% confident I won’t.

If I have to sit through another channel five film where my mom goes ‘oooh! That’s a lovely name what do you think of that!?’ I think I will go crazy. Besides its pretty conclusive now considering we are having personalised gifts and a giant pillow with her name embroidered on. I mean, I’d look a little silly if I named my child something different to what was written on her blankets and I just had some randomer’s name on show in her room like a shrine…

With that said, I know you all mean well and I know the name of my child is somehow a very important aspect of your life, but no Margret, she won’t be named after you and yes Norman, not you either, not even with ‘jr’ on the end, cause she’s a girl (or at least I hope so at this point).

And contrary to popular belief, she ain’t called Frank either, even though my dad has been spreading that around and continues to call her Frank for some strange reason. Sad thing is she’s probably heard it so much at this point that she’ll respond to the name when she’s born.

But to not keep you waiting because I know like 80% of you probably haven’t read anything i’ve written and only clicked on to find out her name (which I take no offence to because I’d do the same and I’m a sucker for click bait).

Her name will be (don’t hate on me if it does somehow end up in a completely different ball park)…

Ophelia Rose Bathgate.

I’ve always loved the name Ophelia since reading hamlet when I was 15 and I was lucky enough that john loves the unusually beautiful name also. The most common abbreviation is ‘Effy’ and as much as I quite like that I think I’ll probably end up calling her Ophelia anyway, purely for the novelty. I’ve already heard a lot of different versions and puns of her name and so don’t feel shy to take the piss, I wont take offence just yknow, keep it jokey. I don’t want you to legit come up to me and call my child bastard or something like we are in Game of Thrones, but I do have a sense of humour so you’re all good to make a joke.

Gavin, you’re all good to keep on with the ‘ I feel ya, Ophelia’ but just don’t say it when she’s born and in public cause yknow I think there could be a law suit on your hands there.

And mom, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call her ‘Effin’ hell’ when she’s born also, cause knowing my luck it’ll end up being her first words.

Finally dad, continue the frank if you must for the next 3 months, but I don’t want her to be born and have some sort of identity crisis not knowing whether her real name is frank or not and grow up as psychologically damaged as your dog.

As usual, thanks for listening to my rambles and moans, to support the blog please like and share!

xoxo

Processed with VSCO with c7 preset

A Letter to my Mum…

me and mom 2

I know you shouldn’t only appreciate people on a certain day, but I have a cold hearted and emotionally reserved persona to up keep in regards to my family. So for this mothers day only (and you’re only getting this once mom so I dunno, copy and paste it, print it out and frame it if you have to) I will give you the gift of cringiness and honesty. All those face mushes and ‘why don’t you show me affection. I LOOOOVE YOUUU’ whines when you’ve had one too many glasses of prosecco have come down to this post. And only on this post can I express my love and gratitude because quite frankly I have at least 24 hours before I have to face you with embarrassment.On Friday the 13th October you had a visit from the dreaded midwife who continues to call me ‘scrawny’ and together you joked that because it was the day of the devil, on week 34 out of 40 in your pregnancy, ‘wouldn’t it be funny if she came today.’

Well, the day of the devil it was.

You stepped out of the car into the carpark to go to your antenatal appointment, like I

8

have since done in that very place, when your placenta separated completely from your uterus. This is called a placenta abruption and can be life threatening to both mother and baby.

Although you woke up days later, being bathed by some old fuddy nurses after blood transfusions and life saving treatments, you was now baby-less. But like a bad scent ever since, I was merely lying in an incubator with cotton wool on my knees making all the midwives wish theyd never met the emergency premature 666 child you had traumatically and unconsciously brought into the world.

We were never a well off family and I didn’t mind, you would spend days making angel delight or jelly with me as if it was some gourmet baking when realistically Luna could probably do it if it weren’t for the fact she doesn’t have opposable thumbs. And mom, sorry but you’re cooking hasn’t improved since, you’re the only person who manages to burn super noodles, but I love it. I love that you served my previous boyfriends raw vegetables so they had to eat it politely and I love that you are so in denial to cooking

4

instructions because ‘you know best’ because it is what makes you, you. I can’t wait for my child to say ‘I hope grandad cooks because nanny’s food is horrible’ like every grandchild is supposed to say.

One Christmas, dad had lost his job and you had been ill all year, I didn’t understand what mental health was, I didn’t understand how a person can struggle because you didn’t let me see the hardships. I thought you were feeding me frozen sausages and frozen sweetcorn because you just wanted me to never develop a palette, when all my friends got green giant sweetcorn with its sugary canned taste or butchers special sausages. I didn’t know that a person could be unhappy because you always laughed when I said 1051 was

12

my favourite number (I still don’t get why that’s funny) or I (very out of tune) composed a rendition of the cuckoo clock song in the sound of music, because I didn’t know that one could smile but be in so much pain then. On that Christmas you had warned us we had no money and not to be disappointed, (I knew santa wasn’t real obvs ,but alex still believed) we made m&m cupcakes for ‘santa’ because I was a fussy eater and despite the fact you wanted mince pies, you let me have my way, and we watched shrek lying on our first ever brand new sofa (that alex immediately dropped cake icing down), until alex went to bed and you let me eat all the m&m cakes. But that morning, you still handed us mountain after mountain of presents, I got exactly what I wanted that year and more, despite the fact I now know we couldn’t afford it and you had to go without so much for yourself.

2

When we got a little older, you were still really ill and getting worse, I was starting to understand a little that there was this thing called depression, but I was ignorant and I didn’t understand. I thought you were just crazy and moaning all the time, enjoying arguments. I remember we went on a family trip to Ikea and the whole journey we were rowing, you and dad, you and me, we were screaming louder than we did when skindred came on and youd hide down whilst me, dad and alex blew whistles out the window on the motorway to the song in embarrassment. When we finally got out the car after you had stopped screaming you immediately fell over the curb and face planted the floor. I found it hilarious and im ngl im laughing thinking about it now but you got back up and strutted off not letting it phase you and you were a boss.

I remember when I came home from pontins and I was moody with you because you

6

explained you were ill because of stress and I thought it was fake. Stress? Whats stress?

When I was 16 you sat with me in a box room covered in white walls and listened as I explained I wanted to take my own life by swallowing lots of pills to some random woman. I knew then what you had suffered all those years and what I had ignorantly begrudged you of in those hard times. I had begrudged you a you. I hadn’t sat in the room letting you explain how you feel without judgement, I hadn’t held you when you were sad and I hadn’t said it was because you were ill you were acting out of character and then helped you get better, I hadn’t been there for you like you were for me. You let me sleep in your bed every night so I didn’t panic, even though it was the only real time you got to be with dad and you gave up all your days to look after me and make sure I was okay, watching repeats of shitty channel 5 films.

3

You come with me to every hospital appointment even when I don’t want you to come, youre just so stubborn and even when I don’t know I’m ill you always do and you help, even when I push you away.

I was a child and couldn’t give that to you but I want to say that if I could go back, I would, and maybe we wouldn’t have lost so many years to the illness we both struggled with.

When I was 18 and I had gotten involved in drugs and alcohol we hated each other, we couldn’t live under the same roof because I didn’t understand what the problem was. I’m 18 I can come home at whatever time I want, in whatever state I want and with whoever I want. And I can categorically say that my child aint ever touching alcohol. And sex? Nope, they are gonna be virgins for life if I have anything to do with it. So in hindsight, I know I was troublesome and you weren’t really an evil bitch, you were just a mother. My mother.

Despite the fact we didn’t get on you still let me cry on your shoulder and ordered me a

5

dominoes when I split up with my boyfriend. You let me make my own decision to go back to him even though you knew he was bad because it was what I wanted and when he hurt me again you didn’t say I told you so, instead you encouraged me to get back out there. You even suggested I went on tinder and would be my back up on a date, which back then I would’ve rather died than take my mom as a back up.

Since then I grew up.

Since then, even though you embarrass me when I come home to find the front door open and you passed out drunk on the floor, when you feed my fat dog human food against my will or when you put your feet up on my sofa with your dirty boots still on I wouldn’t change it.

1

Since then you have become my bestest friend. I can talk to you about anything and you make me laugh, I don’t understand how we ever disliked each other because right now you are my favourite person in the world. You lost your mum young but you still became the perfect mother without any guidance and my life would never be the same if it weren’t for the things you did for me or the way you brought me up. So because of you I am able to be an amazing mom to my child.

I hope my child doesn’t end up hiding in the car when I face plant the pavement on boldmere highstreet and let strangers help me up whilst they duck down as if to say ‘that ain’t my mom’ or tell me the rapids aren’t fast and then laugh at me as I nearly drown.

But I hope that my child has a mom like you.

We never saw eye to eye but you are my best friend and I cannot wait for you to be a grandparent and keep saying ‘god you’re just like me’ or telling me off for disciplining my child. I can definitely wait for all those ‘I told you so’s’ and karma coming back to hit me as my child puts me through all the things i put you through.

So happy mothers day momma, I love you lots. You are my hero, my best friend and my mom.

P.s. We don’t ever speak of this post again.

xxxx

me and mom

What I Actually Do – Day in the life of a Crohnie

Last week when I was having my 10am trip to the sick bowl, I was watching an interview, or rather a ‘debate’ on This Morning involving two women. One woman was a full time stay at home mom and the other a 9 – 5 working mother, and as much as I applaud the efforts of the working mom she caused a lot of uproar with branding the other as ‘lazy’ and questioning what exactly stay at home mom’s do.
This is a close debate to me because very often some ignorant person slides into my dm’s to ask me exactly ‘what I do?’ and yes I am a self proclaimed lazy arse, but I also work hard and do not do “nothing.” After talking to a lot of other Crohn’s sufferers I find myself telling them to not feel guilty about doing nothing or achieving nothing more than a 6 hour nap on a day they aren’t feeling great and yet I feel myself having to justify what exactly I do still.


So first off I’m going to state that I don’t feel I have to justify myself but there are a lot of you who are non-maliciously, genuinely interested in what a week is like for myself as a Crohn’s sufferer, work from home, M.E diagnosed, pregnant, student.
Already, my illnesses are a type of job, they are something I live with everyday and they can determine the path I go down in my life. A year and a half ago I gave up work to focus on my health and have not returned to a career since, and I do not regret that, nor do I feel like I am lazy or a ‘doll scrounger’ because of my choice to focus on being mentally and physically well over the 9-5 grind. I work hard to do normal tasks some days, sometimes getting dressed is an exhausting task or even a walk with Luna (despite the fact she’s pop-eye on a leash) can tire me out for the entire day and with the build up of my exhaustion comes a flare up, with a flare up comes a debilitating change in life, days in hospital and watching loved ones suffer the thought of what will happen to me this time. So when I say I do not work full time or have a ‘proper career’ I am not ashamed or feel guilty for being a stay at home person and any other chronic illness sufferer should not feel guilty that they too cannot work or cannot pay into the state like many other people in society can and do.
With that said this is what an AVERAGE day (there are obviously days I lie around in a vegetative state with one arm round my sick bowl and the other in a pic n mix tub watching Netflix) looks like for me.0001
I wake up when my natural body clock wakes me up, because if I don’t, boy do I know about it. On the days I have to set an alarm I fight a battle of morning sickness and body fatigue as my digestive system hasn’t clocked in yet, my body has awoken before my functions have and so they work at dysfunctional time differences. So majority of the time I let myself wake up naturally to avoid any premature trips to the toilet and alleviate the chances of a midday nap. I go down to luna, who has already attempted her prison breaks and escapology routines in which she somehow manages to escape her cage even with cable ties and a padlock on (I don’t even know how she does it but I can earn big bucks from her skills, Houdini is shaking in his grave). Feed her some goop whilst trying not to gag and then have a cup of tea, or on a bad sickness day, a cup of boiled water (wild, I know) and then run to the toilet and sick it all back up again…
“Welcome to the second trimester” they said… “Morning sickness will be going now” they said…
Well my stomach and my toilet disagree. So once ive gotten my vomiting out the way I go get dressed, which I think is the actual hardest part of the day. It’s the part where you mentally make the decision that your day is beginning and you mean business, despite feeling like its time to go back to bed already.
0003If it’s a work from home kinda day, then ill be lucky to be arsed to do my makeup cause that is commitment usually only saved for leaving the house. Joggers on, messy bun (that looks more like a sparse turd on my head because my hair is too thin to do a proper messy bun) and eyebrow-less. Our post lady (despite being half blind and unable to tell what number our house actually is) delivers my ‘blogger mail’ (again this is NOT something that happens EVERYDAY) with the same astonished expression that Michael Jackson really hasn’t died and is living at number 11 in her home town when I greet her. I spend a couple hours doing the house work and talking to the dog like a mad woman who has had no human contact in years whilst debuting my new album at top volume and a well-choreographed cordless vacuum dance to accompany it. Then by lunch time I have finished boring mundane chores and sit down to go through my emails. I argue with a few collaborators about how I deserve to be paid for advertising their brand or products and write up briefs or ‘pitches’ to them with my set fee in the hope they accept and delete all the spam about how I need a penis enlargement for my non-existent dick. Then if I have Instagram or blogging jobs to do I try to do them whilst its still light outside, setting up the brands product in some shitty layout and blab on about what I think of them in painstakingly unnecessary detail that the company are happy with. Although this proves to be a lot harder than anticipated because there are only so many flat lays or backgrounds I can use for variety within the four walls of my house (and yknow, eyebrows off means I ain’t leaving the house unless for emergencies).
If I don’t have any blogging or insta jobs to complete then I log onto my student account and do some of my uni work, or rather, I pretend im doing uni work but actually got side tracked by the latest serial killer documentary that I have on in the background and then come deadline day I cry into my laptop until ive finished and then repeat the whole cycle again come next assignment. The great thing about Open uni is its so flexible, if im having an ‘ill’ day, where I don’t get anything done, I’m not reprimanded or lectured, instead offered extra support should I want it. You get out exactly what you put in, and there’s no in-between. If I only do an hour a week of uni then I’m not in trouble for missing online lectures or activities, I just notice a decrease on my own ability come the next marked assignment. You are given your assignment due dates for the whole year when you start so there isn’t really any excuse as to why I could miss my August 2018 deadline because I knew it was coming from October 2017. Still, im a pro at leaving it to the last minute.
When I’ve finished work there is usually only an hour or so before john gets back from 0004work so I usually just chill, watch some shitty American tv show and sleep because by now im exhausted. Im exhausted every hour of the day thanks to Crohn’s but when my tasks are done that’s when I reward myself with a nap (it’s the best part of everyday). When john gets home and ive awoken like someone having a nightmare in a horror film, wondering what year it is and where ive been for the last decade, we take luna out for a run. She has developed a keen talent of finding any way possible to get into the River Trent and swims around for a little bit providing the current isn’t strong. If the current is strong, I turn into a crazed mother running after her screaming like she’s the kittens in the ‘Aristocats’ about to be swept away but she never is because y’know, shes a dog, shes a good swimmer. When ive finished having heart palpitations and accusing john of not caring or getting in the river after her, we head home and argue about what we want for tea. The system is fairly simple, ‘Did we have pasta yesterday?’ ‘No?’ ‘Pasta it is’. If the answer is yes its, ‘Okay think of something today and we’ll have pasta tomorrow’. I cook tea and we watch some shit tv before retiring like an old age pensioner to bed at like 10pm where I kid myself into thinking im going to finish my book tonight but instead end up falling asleep to family guy.
Like I said previously, days differ, sometimes I meet up with friends for a drink, sometimes I have to go to venues for various things, sometimes I am at doctors or hospital appointments or tests, some days I check up on the Etsy shop (full feature coming soon) and some days I do absolutely nothing.
So yeah, I do do ‘nothing’ but I don’t do ‘nothing’ at the same time and I’m not ashamed to not have a full time proper job. Of course on a bad day I think badly of myself, chastise myself for not being stronger or having the motivation to push through and get a 9-5 job and feel guilty that some people don’t have the choice but to work. But everybody has their own guilt battles, mom guilt, breaking a diet guilt, work guilt, not going to the gym guilt, spending money on irrelevant things guilt. It’s a natural part of mental health to feel guilty for things we have or do that we know others may not be as fortunate, but it doesn’t mean we are in the wrong. If you have a chronic illness and cannot work, if you are mentally effected by work or if ‘work’ is deteriorating your own health, there is no shame and nothing wrong with taking the back step. It doesn’t make you ‘lazy’ or a ‘doll scrounger’ or a ‘freeloader.’
In July I will be adding to my list of jobs, I will be a full time stay-at-home mom, and I have no shame in being just that. My life aspiration was to be a mother. So I am proud to be able to achieve that and focus all my energy into being the best full time mom.

Processed with VSCO with c6 preset

*As you may have noticed some of the photography is 100% better than any of my own, including the main header photo. These photos were taken and are owned by HND Photography student, Hayley Leaver. Click on any of her photos (Watermarked) to check out more of her work and show support. More of her images will be featured in upcoming posts.

xx

 

To check out my previous post Click here

My Instagram

Hayleys Instagram

 

We have an announcement…

Processed with VSCO with c6 preset

Processed with VSCO with c6 presetProcessed with VSCO with c6 preset

Yep! You see it correctly, its not a food baby nor is it an ultrasound of all the poo on my stomach (usually is). It is a fully beating heart, two arms and two legs kicking around and a face full of mine and john’s features. It comes with much anticipation, a hell of a lot of paranoia and a sea full of tears that I can finally announce we are expecting our first child! I have vomited my way through the first trimester and still with much worry we can actually take a breath of relief and tell the world I am expecting again!

Now everyone keeps telling me that you blossom throughout pregnancy, that your hair and skin glows and you feel amazing. Well I can tell you that the person who said that is a f**king liar. I have been sick for 12 weeks straight, managing only jelly and ginger biscuits until I finally thought f*ck it, its coming back up,  may aswell enjoy it as it goes down and started eating normal meals and accepting the fate of seeing it again in half an hours time. Also have come to discover that despite surgery I still manage 20180109_192946to choke on a bloody regurgitated chip and experience explosive diarrhoea at the same time so that’s been joyful…

At 6 weeks we had another scare, I self referred myself to the EPU and in true Alison Dawson fashion, demanded I be seen and have a scan. They gave me a scan on the following Tuesday which showed a beating heart, although we were relieved, it had only been 12 months prior we had seen the same thing and so we were still very stressed. My scan showed a bleeding on my womb and once again went home in tears expecting the worst to follow in a few weeks time.

But no further blood came, I continued being sick and developed superhuman sense of smell. I felt like daredevil, (despite the main feature of being blind haha, although I have got horrific eyesight and cant see without my glasses so just go with it) walking around able to smell every single thing someone had eaten that day or pick out ingredients in a meal like the mouse from ratatouille. But as great as it sounds, trying to do the food shop when you can smell the milk from the back of the supermarket and the shit in a babies nappy three aisles off did nothing for my sickness. So we booked a private scan with the recommendation from a friend to find out exactly how everything was progressing.

The place we went to was peek-a-baby and they were great, we were so nervous seen as the last scan showed a bleed and just hoped for the best. But the minute she put the probe thing (whatever its called) on my stomach we saw a big dark sac with a moving 20180109_191501baby inside. Our baby was kicking furiously and their heart was beating rapidly, I couldn’t even take my eyes away from the screen to look at john cause I just wanted to watch every second but I think I fractured his fingers from squeezing it.

We have since had another scan to confirm that everything is okay, and our baby is developing great, kicking and moving around and continuing to make me feel like i’ve been run down by a dustbin lorry.

I don’t want to go into a major long pregnancy post as ill have many of them coming up I’m sure, but with great excitement I announce Baby Bathgate, due July 2018.

‘Not Social Media Perfect’

I’ve been trying to start a post for about a week now but I’m so easily distracted by the stupidest things I’ve somehow found hours past and yet no post written. I didn’t want ‘blogging’ to be a chore but as my Instagram and blog have progressed, it has become more of a business/money opportunity (which I am grateful for don’t get me wrong) and thus the hobby has turned into more of a job and well, we all know how shit I am at actually sticking at jobs…

However, 2017 offered me the amazing opportunity to turn my Instagram and blog into a small business and with that I have learned just how difficult it is to live in this ‘blogosphere, perfect lifestyle.’ I am pleased to have developed into the place I am now and hope I can continue to do what I enjoy doing, but I have to acknowledge and take my hat off to every other ‘blogger’ out there. Keeping up the ‘perfect social media life’ is more of a job than you expect it to be. You think it all sunshine and happiness, waking up to the perfect latte with an aesthetically pleasing pattern on the top and a bunch of flowers to place beside for a ‘just woke up’ Instagram shot. Followed by a brand-new delivery of clothing to wear for your ‘ootd’ and then a trip around the town snapping various locations and overpriced meals before you settle back down in some fluffy bed socks to post all about your amazing day on your brand new apple mac.  

Well in reality, it’s winter in England, and you know what that means? It means a disturbing lack of natural light followed by rain, rain, horrific wind and more rain. Any chance of a vibrant picture is a lot harder to recreate when you’re an amateur and mother nature doesn’t want you to go outside. As for the coffee, if I want it, I gotta make it myself so any attempt at a delicate latte art ends up looking like a mushed up version of luna’s turds, not to mention coffee gives me the shits anyway. And receiving promo products everyday? Nope, if you want something you gotta wait for days until you’re lucky enough to be noticed and then you have to spend a further week negotiating with them how you deserve more than a 10ml tester in return for a whole advertising package. The perfect social media life doesn’t exist, I for one wouldn’t class myself as a serious blogger, i don’t own an expensive DSLR, nor do I go location searching in a party outfit to get a good fashion shot and then spend another 5 hours editing it on photoshop because I cant deal with the bags under my eyes. But a lot of your favourite bloggers do. Turning a blog or an Instagram into a business is hard work, the whole con of making money on social media is the concept of illusion. Trying to make your life look amazing is the hardest job of all because nobody is perfect. I for one, am one of the laziest people I know, it is my biggest downfall and do you know how hard it is to complete a job when you’re lazy af? No, but seriously, if you like someone’s Instagram, or their blog post, whether they are a high flying social media star or they post every month as part of a hobby, let them know you like it, let them know you support their work because it is just like any other job, it takes hard work and a lot of effort to achieve the final ‘product’ that you see.

This all sounds like im complaining about it, which I’m not trying to do because I love where I am right now. I love that I am able to pick and chose my work and still have time to binge watch Netflix or that I can work as hard or as little as I like in-between napping like a god. But the first part of wanting to be a ‘blogger’ is stepping back and accepting that it is all an illusion, it is all fake and at the end of the day it is just work and work most commonly turns boring in the end.

So with that said, I intend to start a whole new series, thanks to a fellow blogger, Maddie, who writes and owns Mind A Moment Blog, she encouraged me when I was feeling like I didn’t have much more to give because my life isn’t social media perfect. This series is going to be ‘Not Social Media Perfect’ because I make good content when i’m not massively faking it, when I’m being my lazy self and living a great but ridiculously normal lifestyle. Maddie reminded me to focus on the things I have actually achieved at 22 and how I should be proud to share them with you, not the perfect make up deals or the incredibly fake advertisements which you mainly see on my Instagram because that is my job. Is anybody actually their job? Your job is only one persona and in this new series ‘Not Social Media Perfect’ I will be sharing (when I want to – not forcing anything) tips for real life, share my stories of my boring normalities and take you on a (probably dull) journey from Chloe Dawson, teenager, who started social media in her box room at her parents, to Chloe Dawson, adult, who now earns money on social media, has a mortgage and is starting a family but in the most unglamorous truthful way it is, in its entirety.

Weekly Ramble #1

img_20170127_222444_378

Although i have no idea how this blog post is going to turn out i’m just going to write and see what words follow, there is no purpose to this whatsoever it’s just been so long since i had written a post i felt like if i didn’t it’s one more thing i’ve been too lazy to do. Besides, i’ve got john’s mac and it makes me feel much more sophisticated and fit the persona of a ‘writer’ when i get to use it.

img_20170129_112717_974

Nothing much has changed in the past few weeks, still house hunting and although we’ve found one that’s perfect we are having issues with the legal side of things and so i think we’re going to have to let that one go. Why is buying a house so complicated and img_20170122_095829_683expensive? Especially when we find one that’s just right and some other dickhead turns up with more money and decides to steal it, like bitch i’d already planned my colour scheme for the bedroom. So besides failing at buying a house and being too poor to afford to go out i’m sat with the dogs with ear plugs in like an old woman as the rain falls (EXTREMELY LOUD) onto the conservatory roof – which is my bedroom – wishing i’d just stayed in kings heath. But it’s not all bad because although i enjoy my own company i like the fact that i img_20170128_123234_406don’t have to sit on my own everyday and when my sister is off i have an excuse to watch shit tv shows i’m too proud to admit i secretly like, so when john comes home and thinks wtf i can blame my poor tv choices on her and it’s easily plausible. As a 21 yr old who’s planning on buying a home and having a kid i can’t be publicly seen watching ‘Victorious’ and singing along to the songs, declaring my love for Ariana Grande.

img_20170127_134523_692However, on another note, if Luna wasn’t bad enough when she was in season, constantly humping everything and costing us hundreds of pounds, i am now left to practically babysit the other one, margo, as she wipes her giant bloody bits all over my bedcovers. Not gonna lie it’s bigger than her head, imagine a baboons arse been dragged over your pillow and brand new slippers? Yeah that’s what i’m dealing with because my bedroom is downstairs and mom hasn’t taught her boundaries (unlike my perfect luna of course…ha..ha…ha.. Shes staring at me demonically now i feel like one of those people in horror films where there is a demon inside the dog 20170128_132119that controls their every move when people aren’t looking – if you haven’t watched those films seriously watch them they are shitily great).

On the pregnancy front, i genuinely have no idea, i’m still waiting for my body to return to normal but i don’t think it even knows what’s normal itself now. I had my follow up appointment with a gynaecologist as the midwives were querying a bicornuate uterus and septum which would basically be the reason for my two miscarriages. But the scan showed no septum and only a slight bicornuate womb meaning, i have a heart shaped womb instead of a completely rounded one, which could cause some difficulty when the placenta attaches itself but it wouldn’t be the main reason img_20170120_095830_364why i cannot seem to get to 12 weeks. I have an appointment at a recurrent miscarriage clinic which will hopefully enlighten us as to possible reasons although i’m pretty sure i’m going to hear “nobody knows why this happens but it’s fairly common and most people have miscarriages without even realising,”  i practically hear that sentence in my dreams, so many people have said it to me. My GP does seem to think that it is linked to my crohns and the immunosuppressants i am on as a result of 20170121191533the crohns though, so we have a long way to go and i think my dream of actually being able to hold my baby before christmas 2017 is slowly becoming less realistic, all i keep telling myself is that when it finally happens and i get to see and hold my baby for the first time i’ll know that this hardship will all be worth it.

It’s now half 2 in the afternoon and i’m seriously considering taking a nap, i cannot even hear the program i’m trying to watch over the rain and Luna keeps trying to eat my gingerbread house i’m pretty confident is stale now, so imma go. Sorry if i bored you to death throughout this post, it’s more like a ramble of thoughts as i sit contemplating why i am not rich and living the life of luxury or why i 20170115_170818can’t get a huge toned ass and slim body whilst just sleeping and eating mac n cheese (which i really wish you could do at the same time).

Have a good week everybody!

Chloe xxx

 

P.s I dunno what i’m gonna title this post and considering i have nothing interesting going on atm my following posts are probably going to be just a stream of consciousness like this one so i may aswell be pretentious about it and call it a ‘series’ so it sounds purposeful, so here we are the first installment of the ‘Weekly Ramble’.

Also the pictures have no correlation to the text they are just a bunch of photos from this week. You can find more here.

To read my last blog post click here.

img_20170115_170932_755