2018 hasn’t been quite as busy writing wise as 2017 was; thirty posts, not including this one. I did make a baby though, so it’s not too bad going.
The year started with a post about new years resolutions – a promise to myself to be a little more selfish when it came to who I prioritised. Although, in hindsight, it wasn’t so much as prioritising me, as prioritising my son. I’ve managed to do this a little throughout the year, but still have a way to go.
The focus quickly returned to my epic, trying to get pregnant plan. Round four was quickly followed by a heartfelt piece on fertility treatment failing. I had written these posts as events unfolded, but only pressed publish much later – so fearful was I of it all failing. For me, sharing my pregnancy news with (almost) anyone before I was past the 20 week stage, let alone the whole internet, was not something I could do.
Then in a flashback to a previous life I wrote about divorce – looking back on how it has been three years on. Not great but not as bad as it seemed at the start.
In quick succession I was able to tell you about pregnancy attempt number six and then bring you all up to speed with how far along I really was. The news of a baby also pushed me to come off my anti-depression medication which was a big step and one I haven’t regretted for a moment. This was followed in quick succession by my posts about first trimester and second trimester pregnancy as a solo mum, with a humorous take on pregnancy from my son’s point of view too. Having gained more experience than I ever expected of dating sites and sperm banks, I was able to write an accurate and amusing comparison of the two.
Then it was time to start really gearing up for becoming a mum of two with posts about expecting another, hypnobirthing and third trimester as a solo mum. Sandwiched in amongst these posts, in an attempt to help struggling folks everywhere, I wrote one of my few advice pieces about how to help a friend struggling with depression – or really just struggling at all. The key advice piece being it’s about YOU reaching in, not waiting for them to reach out.
The summer months saw a lull in publishing posts as I grappled with a difficult birth and adjusting to life with two. However, I did finish an old draft about dads and a new one about being induced with gestational diabetes.
The summer months saw a big lull in publishing posts as I grappled with a difficult birth and adjusting to life with two. However, I did finish an old draft about dads and a new one about being induced with gestational diabetes. I also put pen to paper on a very difficult topic for me, bonding with my new born following a traumatic birth. Deflecting the attention away from things, I finished another old post on the annoying things single mums hear, and also wrote about our first family holiday to Wales.
September saw another draft post finally finished, this one exploring the inside of my mind with PTSD. Although old, it seemed apt as I was coming to realise that the traumatic birth I’d experienced had re-triggered old wounds.
More negative comments in the press about single mums encouraged me to pen a piece to the Tory Mayoral candidate for London. In summary, single mums aren’t benefits scroungers, we should respect the work single parenting entails AND support single mums more, to ensure our mental health, and the mental health of our babies, are not trodden into the ground.
October saw posts about glamping and glasses, the latter something which is still taking some getting used to.
November saw a couple of posts which took a long time to write as my brain struggled to process the events involved. First and foremost a post which I had never expected to write about and wish I had no knowledge of – the loss of a dear friend, one of the most important and influential people in my life. I also found out the hard way that when you plan for a baby, other events can unfold which you’d never expected, like the impact of a traumatic birth. I wrote about the transition from one to two children which was much harder in an emotional sense than practical, although that was also pretty hellish!
Finally, six months after the birth, I was able to report life settling down to some kind of new normal. The toll of getting there, plus the toll of life in general this year – redundancy hasn’t quite made it onto my posts but it’s been there in the background throughout, means the happiness levels are still significantly lower than I’d imagined they would be by this point in my life.
My final post of the year was about the politics of giving at Christmas. I’ve always been actively political and supported policies which protect the vulnerable in society, now that I’m classed as vulnerable by some, the prevailing political attitudes in my own country have become even more infuriating and increasingly personal.
In amongst the new writings, I also updated a couple of my popular posts, including single parent support and gift guide for single mums. I even got two of the gifts from my guide which was pretty awesome! (Thanks to my bestie for the calendar and to my mum for a handheld vacuum cleaner if you’re reading).
It wasn’t just this blog I wrote for in 2018 either. The Metro published the story of me Having a Baby Via Donor Conception. Scary Mommy published my piece about the 8 Things Single Mums Want To Tell Their Friends. Motherly published my pieces on how Single Mums Feel the Intensity of Being the Only Parent and how I was Worried About How #2 Will Affect My Relationship With My First Born.
If themes are to sum up my writing phases, 2018 has definitely been about pregnancy and birth. My blog is full of drafts still, many which date back to pre trying to become pregnant. Hopefully 2019 is when I’ll get round to finally publishing pieces on all these eclectic issues, including Boys, Toys and Testosterone; Living Without Love and Living With An Addict. So watch this space, and who knows, maybe there’ll be some lucky in love posts too.
Thanks to you all for reading and commenting and sharing your own experiences this year. Writing is like therapy for me, but the downside is when people don’t read or comment it’s like your therapist turning her head in disgust. I feel embarrassed and ashamed for spilling my soul without anyone caring to catch it as it falls. The support from those who read and care really helps. What’s more, the comments from those who’ve experienced similar makes me feel less alone and like it IS worth sharing my experiences if it helps at least one other person feel less alone too.
Have a wonderful and peaceful 2019 everyone.
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If you liked this post, you might also like my writing in review for 2017.