Hanging by a thread

So yesterday I made the big revelation and last night I couldn’t sleep. There was no particular reason, I don’t think. Except that I couldn’t shake the feeling that things are a little vulnerable right now. Its like I’m hanging by a thread, waiting for the wind to blow me down.

I’ve been reminded lately how precarious life can be. How quickly we can have the things we long for snatched away for good. How quickly life’s pleasures can turn sour and all that hope and joy can disappear in a puff of smoke. How easily it can all be hanging by a thread.

These feelings have nothing to do with my previous experiences and I know that I am not alone in feeling this way. The early weeks of pregnancy can be so isolating. In the days when you haven’t told anyone but you feel so ill, so exposed and so bloated. Then all of a sudden, people know your secret and you’re out of the special bubble you had created to keep yourself protected. Is that when you become public property? When people know, it makes it so much easier to feel like things might not actually turn out the way you hoped they would.

I’d like to thank each and every one of you who either commented on here, Facebook or Twitter yesterday. Your well wishes mean the world to me and I have taken each message of support with a grateful heart. I know that last night’s insomnia was perhaps a blip in the proceedings, since today I am feeling stronger and more positive again. And it is dawning on me that I am having another baby! ohmygodohmygodohmygod I am having another baby!



ps, please feel free to ignore this post, the ramblngs of a hormonal woman…


Those two blue lines

On Wednesday December 16th 2009, I spoke on the telephone with my sister. It was the day after I had returned from the hospital with my new son. Still in shock, I told her that I was never going to have any more children after this. I felt so angry- cheated of my dreams of a big family. But there was no way I was ever EVER going through that again. The trauma of his birth, the fear and the anxiety of being in the hospital and the absolutely agonising, searing hot pain of a second c-section… it all culminated into a ball of nausea in my stomach. I couldn’t do it again.

It was this conversation that sprang to mind as those two blue lines appeared in the control window of the pregnancy test. It was those words “Never again” that seemed so naiive all of a sudden.

Yes, that’s right. I am ten weeks pregnant.

So we’re doing it again. The hugs I gave my children later that day were so bitter sweet. What was going to happen to them this time? How would I manage to deal with the trials of a new pregnancy when the tribulations of the previous birth were still making themselves known?

This is my journey towards recovery, I can see that now. Here is where I finally make peace with it all and move on with my family. The things I know now, the things I have been through… it’s all brought me here. I owe it to my son to move forward with this pregnancy and to finally have a positive birth- the birth we all deserve.

From this point, although I have known about the pregnancy for a while, Ghostwritermummy must change. Like all things, we are evolving and moving forward. I feel now, more than ever, that Ghostwritermummy is going to prove its worth as my own personal therapy.

So how do I make sure that birth trauma doesn’t hold me back this time and take me back to that dark place I once used to frequent? I’m taking small steps. I’ve chosen my hopsital. I’m taking care of myself. I’m making damn sure that this time it is third time lucky.




*iamge source: (I threw mine away in shock)


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