I don’t know about you, but how many times have you been out somewhere and randomly bumped into someone who might just be the love of your life?! I’m pretty sure that only happens in films (do let me know if you met that way!).

I asked her how her dream meeting would go and she reeled off what could have been a scene from a RomCom. She said she’d like to be standing in line for a coffee and have the man of her dreams bump into her, causing her to drop her pile of books on the floor, which he would then, as the gentleman, pick up, and their eyes would meet. The End.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?!

So how do people meet ‘normally’, as my lovely step-daughter puts it?

Well, the obvious one is meeting in a bar/pub/club, right? That’s the stereotypical place to find a date, isn’t it? But how many of us approach someone in said bar and end up life-long partners? (Again, do let me know if this is you!). Particularly in a time that appears to be labelling men as all sorts if they dare so much as to pay a lady a compliment…but let’s not get into that. Besides, bars and nightclubs are a far cry from the dance halls of yesteryear where our grandparent’s generation would have met.

Society has also changed over the last couple of decades with the ever-growing technological world at our finger tips. People no longer need to make small talk at a bus stop, or on a train. It’s so easy to be listening to a podcast, or an audio book, or catching up with emails, or updating social media, that people aren’t passing the time with one another socially. I remember a taxi journey home from work at 5am, about 14 years ago or so. I had the most fascinating conversation with the driver about the political situation in Egypt at that time, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! (I’m totally boring, I know!) But, it’s those types of spontaneous interactions that fall away when technology moves in to fill those gaps.

Then there’s your work place, which although can be great for meeting someone you have things in common with, it can end up being incredibly awkward, especially if you don’t work out. Once upon a time, my work place also happened to be a nightclub, and trust me, dating and breaking it off with someone you work with, whilst practically living in a venue with alcohol to drown your sorrows, isn’t a good mix.

Of course the upside to dating in your social circle, or within your workplace is that it gives you an opportunity to see one another in your ‘natural habitat’, shall we say: witness how one another behaves without the pressures of it being a date, or trying to impress anyone. This is something I think online dating doesn’t have: the ability to get to know one another from afar…but not in a stalker kinda way, just in an admirer sense.

In my view, online dating brings its own pressures to showcase the best bits, or the highlight reel of your life. The perfect version of you. It’s said that people make an instant judgement when they see someone and that’s obviously what dating apps like Tinder are based on. You see a picture or three, and a few lines of writing, and make your decision to swipe one way, or the other.

So let’s be honest, in that few seconds that you have to show who you are, you’re only going to put your best photos and a glowing write up, aren’t you? No one wants to highlight their flaws, do they? Could you imagine some people’s profile if they wrote their reality on their bio?! “Bit of a nag, takes forever to get ready, will Facebook stalk your ex-girlfriend and can’t cook.” Or, “Ladies man, likes to flirt, will not respond to texts and leaves dirty pants on the floor – wash that love”. (Let me just point out that these are entirely fictional and not based on any real people. Any likeness is a coincidence!) But you get my point. So perhaps online dating is less genuine to begin with?

I thought I’d give it a go…

In 2015 after the break up of a long term relationship the previous year, I was living in the ar*e end of nowhere, working 13hr shifts at the local hospital, so my opportunity for for meeting someone socially was limited. I occasionally visited the village pub with my neighbour, but let’s be honest, anyone you meet in your local has probably dated six others in the village, and no one wants exes on their doorstep, do they?!

Online dating seemed the way to go. It was a bit crazy to begin with. I started getting messages from all kinds of people. Many of whom I had absolutely no interest in, whatsoever. The Internet is a weird place! From that experience, I moved platforms to one where you can only connect with others if you ‘match’ and that seemed to make much more sense to me. Filter out all the nonsense and be introduced to people who are interested in, and are looking for, similar things to yourself.

In summer of 2015, (pre-not-husband) I began seeing a guy who was also in the forces (I don’t have a type, honest!) He was being posted to America, so we quit whilst we were ahead, and called it a day after a couple of months. After a month or so, I had another little look to see what other fish there were in the sea, and along came my now not-husband.

Here I’ll add a mildly amusing story. When it came to visiting my not-husband on camp in those early days, he told me how I’d have to go to the pass office and have my photo taken, take my ID, blah-blah, as I had not been before. Of course, I had to confess all at this point! I was already on the system as the previous guy was on the same base. Because of this, I’m pretty sure he thought I was just a serial military-man dater. Let me add to that, one flies helicopters, and the other fixes them. (It also turned out that they were living in opposite blocks on camp) It was a total coincidence, I promise! But I do believe in everything happening for a reason so perhaps that was just the trial run pushing me to where I needed to be? Who knows?!

My not-husband had joined the crazy world of online dating after the breakup of his marriage and unfortunately landed himself with me! When using the filters online, I had always gone for the ‘without children’ option because I just wasn’t interested in taking on a family (or anyone else’s ‘baggage’ – read that as ‘ex-wife’). For some reason, I hadn’t selected that option this time round, and I ‘matched’ with my not-husband who had 2 children from said marriage. At the time, I was chatting to him and one other; a doctor without children (or an ex-wife) but luckily for my not-husband, something just clicked with him and I binned off the doctor.

The Teenage World of Dating….

As my two stepdaughters are now of an age where they themselves are dating (15 & 17), I was curious to hear their take on it.

Currently for them, it’s still very much ‘people you meet at school’ or the ‘my friend likes your friend’ approach, but I asked them about the future and their thoughts on using the internet for finding love. Miss Seventeen is adamant she will never use online dating! I have noted our conversation and told her I’ll remind her of it in a few years time when she’s swiping her way through suitors! For now she has a steady boyfriend she met in school and they’re now in college together.

However, I found it really weird to hear someone of her generation so against an online based service, when everything they do seems to be online, including their entire school day. (I despise this! But that’s a rant for another day.) Technology is a huge part of their world, but perhaps that’s exactly why she’s opposed to it? The art of human connection is such a personal thing, perhaps it is more authentic and natural to begin a relationship by meeting in person?

Yet some people are not very good at the whole social interaction thing, especially not in a romantic sense. Anxiety makes sure of that! So perhaps for those people, the removal of those pressures is actually creating stronger connections, by providing the opportunity to get to know one another better, without self-confidence or social skills in the mix.

In my old job, one of my clients – a lady in her ‘twilight years’ we’ll call them – told me a wonderful story of how she met her husband, many moons ago. As a young lady, her mother forbid her from attending a local dance hall, “because that’s where all those squaddies hang out”. Well, I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a great place to be! She thought so too. Her and her sister snuck out and visited said dance, where she met a lovely young RAF man. A week later, he asked her to marry him and she accepted! (Much to her mother’s horror, of course!) BUT, decades later, here I am sitting with her, she has severe dementia and the aforementioned RAF man out at an aviation lecture for the evening. It just goes to show, even when your mind is slowly letting you down, it’s sometimes the simplest of things that stay with you forever!

So perhaps the way in which we meet people has a longer lasting impact than we think. Dating comes in so many forms these days and at so many different stages of people’s lives. Couples divorce, spouses pass away long before their time, and some people choose to stay single, only looking for love in later years. Whatever your situation, dating can be a daunting prospect. It can also be an exciting one too.

Online, offline, or not at all – the choice is yours!

Over and out,

The Not Wife

The post The Crazy World of Dating appeared first on The Not Wife Life.

With recent escalations, I thought I’d try and share (my take on) the perspectives of spouses around the globe. Whilst the world is watching events unfold, spouses are watching from their own unique position.

Over the last day or so, I have seen both British and American spouses on social media expressing their compassion for Ukrainian spouses, and their worries about what this may mean for their own serving spouse.

Will they be deployed at a moment’s notice?

Will they have to join NATO forces along the Baltic states?

How long for?

How soon before they leave?

What will they be expected to do?

Questioning if those already deployed will soon be on a frontline no one expected?

The truth is, no one really knows for sure. The only thing for certain in military life is that there will be uncertainty. The anxiety is real! Serving or spouse, we both feel it.

In Ukraine, there will be spouses terrified for their husbands, wives, and partners confronting Russian forces. Veterans are returning to service leaving spouses who thought this life was done with, wondering how long it’ll last for? Civilians are taking up arms to defend their cities – a scenario none of us can imagine! Their spouses and children fleeing the country, proud of the loved one they left behind, yet petrified of the unknown.

In Russia, there will be spouses afraid of what their soldiers are heading in to. What defence will they be faced with? Will their spouse be one of the ‘statistics’ in this war? Perhaps their spouse is part of a war they don’t entirely agree with, but they have a job to do. The world is seeing their spouse as ‘the enemy’, yet to them they’re just their loved one.

Spouses in the Baltic states may be watching their spouses join the other NATO forces on the Eastern flank, questioning if they’ll become more involved; wondering if the war will creep closer?

There will be those of us with pilots for spouses, watching with horror as aircraft are shot out of the sky; feeling that gut-wrenching ‘what-if’, knowing the realities of the situation.

Others may have tank driver spouses, watching the equally distressing images of those being destroyed, understanding the consequences for the crew’s families.

Infantry spouses around the world will be sharing the fear felt by spouses on both sides of this terrible situation.

Mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers will be praying their loved ones return unharmed from this conflict. Praying their civilian families are safe.

On Thursday (the day the invasion began) I met my best friend for a walk and her first question was, “Has ‘not-husband’ said anything about going to the Baltics?”. Our fears are the same, our worries are the same, but we are no different to the American spouse asking the same question 4,000 miles away.

Yet somehow we are also alone. Many people see this war as something happening in a faraway land that has nothing to do with us. Or perhaps they have seen the news and are dismissing it, thinking it’s not an issue for them. Or maybe they’re consciously not thinking about it – they do say ignorance is bliss! Either way, they’re unaware of the distress being faced by the military community globally.

On Friday I was at a baby group with my little boy and heard no one mention the horrific events happening, apart from one mum: a fellow military spouse who understood the impact on our community. Spouses everywhere unite in that connection; pained by the news of a soldier killed in action, saddened by wounded personnel, and empathetic to those who have no choice but to fight.

My point here is, no matter which side you find yourself on, or wherever you are in the world, the military community is united in its own unique way. Those who serve are brothers in arms, and their families experience the same fears, worries and anxieties regardless of which armed force you’re tied to.

We don’t have to agree with the conflict or the reasons behind it to feel empathic towards those involved – or any other conflict for that matter. A soldier is a soldier and outside of the military they’re someone’s son, daughter, mother, father, or friend. Wherever you are, whatever your affiliation, you’re not alone. We share the anxiety, we share the fear, and we share the compassion.

Whether you choose to watch the news or hide away from it, do whatever keeps you mentally safe. This war has global implications and it’s OK to feel affected by it. Stay strong, breathe through it and reach out if you’re struggling. Know you’re not alone!

WE ARE UNITED.

The post The Crazy World of War – a Spouse Perspective appeared first on The Not Wife Life.

So here goes…

Quick back story to get you up to speed if you don’t have time to scroll back through my blog. My not-husband and I met back in 2015. We met online as I was working 13-hour shifts on a surgical ward, and he was doing the usual too-ing and fro-ing that comes with being in a front-line squadron.

He has two girls from a previous marriage, and we now have a little boy together. When we met, I had vowed never to date someone with children (I wasn’t ready to take on a family!) and he declared he didn’t want any more children. But…here we are, smashing this blended family thing!

In the beginning,

my not-husband was living ‘on camp’ after the break up of his marriage earlier that year, and I was temporarily living with my parents after the end of a long-term relationship. So being in similar situations, neither of us had our own space, nor were we interested in anything too serious!

When he wasn’t away enjoying the perks of Army life – seeing the world, we spent a lot of time together. I’d often stay in the mess (rooms on the base) but that came with its own issues, of course. I’d have to be signed in and get a temporary visitor’s pass during day times, and for overnight stays, well they required a monumental form filling exercise with approval that had to be arranged in advance, so half the time it just wasn’t worth the effort!

We saw one another fairly often on and off camp, making the most of the time we had together. He would have his girls every other weekend, so to begin with, we didn’t see each other then. Once I’d met them (then 8 and almost 10) we’d often spend the weekends together; going on days out, or to the beach, or walking our dogs somewhere new (I had 3 and he had 1).

We’d sometimes stay on camp together (if we’d done that pain in the backside paperwork) or we’d all go to visit my not-husband’s parents and stay over there. This lack of our own space was perhaps the biggest influence in our decision to buy a house together.

So in 2016,

we’d made the decision to start house hunting but as always with military life, that wasn’t simple either, and my not-husband deployed for the second time that year. Whilst in Canada, he sent me a link to a house new on the market and he asked me to view it. You’ll find that story here – The Crazy World of Deployment – but long story short…we now live in that house!

So we now lived together, ‘off the patch’ (not in military quarters) which, of course, has its advantages. It’s our own to do as we please (I feel lucky to have not lived a magnolia life) and when my not-husband is at home, he feels as though he’s away from work. But it can also mean not having that connection to other military families that you get when all your neighbours are service personnel.

Connecting with the military community…

Back in 2017, when work allowed, I attended a couple of coffee mornings and met some other spouses but there was one big difference…I didn’t have children. Being the only one without children and living away from the patch, I felt almost like ‘an outsider’. They were spending their week in and out of one another’s houses, some had children at the same school, and others attended baby groups together. It was hard to fit into that without that link.

Don’t get me wrong, I met some great people that way, and the get-togethers are fantastic for that purpose. But at the time, I had started my own business and was working a lot, so I couldn’t always make the coffee mornings. I’d miss several weeks and feel out of the loop and this only added to the isolation. This is where groups such as the Milspo Network and MCN (Military Coworking Network) come in. These groups are vital for spouses to connect through business, wherever they might be, even if it’s only ever virtually. I joined both and they’re incredible communities to be a part of, especially during this year when so many of us have lacked human interaction. The weekly zoom sessions keep me sane!!

Living in a little village, I, of course, know people here and I’m also lucky enough to have the most wonderful next-door neighbour. She’s the kind of neighbour every girl needs and we support each other through all sorts.

But when it comes to friendships and a wider support network, what does that look like?

Well, I find that military friends often come in the form of spouses of the serving person’s colleagues. This is true for me, and in a way, it works out well as we often experience things like deployments together, so we’re able to support each other through it. The downside comes when you’re socialising, and the guys talk nothing but work because that’s their lives!

Being slightly older, there’s actually a lot of us in our military friendship groups who own houses, so for us, it feels like the norm to be living ‘off the patch’. We do BBQs, or drinks together (remember those days?!) but I do think many friends come from living in quarters, so perhaps I’m missing out there?

Social media is also a fantastic way to connect with other spouses, and I met one of my best friends this way! We had both commented on a ‘where are you based?’ post on a group for army spouses. We both wrote ‘Somerset‘ but after chatting, discovered we lived two villages apart. We met at the local pub that weekend and the rest is history! So if you’re afraid of joining them, or feel nervous about posting, go for it! It might be the best thing you ever do!

Civilian friends…

are great and much needed, but there’s something special in having people around you who just ‘get it’, isn’t there? The ones you don’t have to explain yourself to, the ones who check in because they know you’re alone yet again.

During deployments, I found I’d have two answers to the question, ” How are you? “. A military answer and a civilian answer. The civvi answer would always be the typical British ” yes I’m fine thanks, you? “, whereas the military answer could be a whole lot more honest! ” I’m done, it’s all shit! Skype failed for the 74th time, the boiler just broke and the deployment has been extended “. Because military families get every part of that completely!

So what about not being married?

Well, so far, so good!

The main issue I see is with postings and housing. As I mentioned before, we’ve not needed to move and have our own house, so we’ve not had to deal with a housing issue…yet.

Luckily the military way is changing, and there is an ever-increasing awareness of modern-day families. The traditional view seems to be that of the army wife, at home, with two children (or something similar). When of course that’s just not how it is anymore. Families come in many different forms, from blended families to same-sex couples, to single parents, there’s no ‘typical’ family unit, I don’t think.

Since 2019,

surplus properties have been available to couples who can prove they’re in an established long-term relationship. We would fit this category and could apply if the situation arose, which is good to know. We did the unaccompanied/weekending piece for three months, and I’m not sure I could do it long-term! Hats off to those of you who do! To qualify, they require evidence of your relationship. They actually accept quite a range of things including utility bills or household information such as; being on the electoral roll, having a child together, or holding a joint bank account. For more information on how this works, visit the AFF site for a well-explained run down – click here.

For us, I think the only issue would come with an overseas posting, as I believe these do still require you to be married. Correct me if I’m wrong. So as I’ve said before, that would be marrying for convenience and as a formality, which is fine if you were already planning on tying the knot, but we’re not. I’ve known a fair few couples bring their wedding forward to be together sooner. Some have even had a small ‘official bit’ wedding then a bigger (not always) celebration later on once settled in their new place.

Dependant??

So what about this age-old thing of a military spouse being called a ‘dependant’?!

Annoying, isn’t it? I can almost hear your rants from here!

I am pretty sure it comes from the days of the ‘typical army wife’ staying at home with the children, following her husband from posting to posting, for the entirety of his career. Of course, this suited families in the 1950’s, but this isn’t the reality in 2021, as I’m sure many of you can attest.

Many mums are now the ones serving whilst others are husbands or wives of serving women. Some are, like me, not married to their serving person, yet I am known as a dependant and have a ‘dependants’ pass’, which is another positive step as you usually have to be married to have one.

But I don’t consider myself to be dependent on my not-husband. I survive several deployments, alone, for months at a time. I don’t depend on my not-husband being here to keep me going. I’d be screwed if I did! Damn, I even do the blue jobs! As ‘dependants’ we run the house, hold down a job, study, care for children, whatever it might be, whether our spouses are around or not, right? Children, I’d call dependants, they do require us to be around to care for them and keep them alive. But, us spouses…? I think not!

In relation to finances, we have many serving friends whose partners actually earn far more than they do! The serving person’s income becomes toy money compared to what their non-serving spouse brings home! So to call us all ‘dependants’ seems outdated to me. I feel like the topic of dependants could go on forever, so I’ll leave it there. What’s your take on it? Let me know on socials.

So, how do welfare units reach out to unmarried military spouses?

Well, the answer is usually they don’t. If you’ve got an issue, it’s on you to seek the support and advice yourself. Unless you’re lucky enough to have a pro-active welfare officer, the chances are they won’t ever reach you. In our first few years together, the welfare officer we had was great. He would connect with the long-term partners of serving personnel and make sure they were aware of the support available to them, despite not being in SFA.

It worked out really well for me as in 2016 my not-husband was deployed several times, meaning I was alone a lot of the time. Welfare set up a deployment group for spouses and gave us a brief on what to expect and how they could help before they deployed, as well as the opportunity to stay connected throughout. How good is that?!

But, as with everything in the military, people move on from posts, and things change. Welfare now? Never hear a peep! (Despite having an online group which should make it super easy to connect to spouses – married or otherwise!) Every unit, every location, and every service is different…but there is hope! With the military finally giving more recognition to the modern-day family, perhaps things will improve in time. Who knows?! I hear the Marines do a great job when it comes to families, so perhaps it’ll catch on.

I think I’ll end it there as I could go on all day. I’d love to hear how things are for you? Which service are you, and how do they connect with you? Married or unmarried, what’re your experiences? Head to the contact pages or get in touch on socials

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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The post Unmarried Military Spouse appeared first on The Not Wife Life.

I’ve talked before about being an unmarried military spouse but here’s a quick recap (or read the full intro here) We’ve been together for over 5 years, I am step-parent to his teen girls (13 & 15) and we’ve not tied the knot.

For a military couple, some people find this odd, but for us, it just hasn’t been an issue. We own our own home and my not-husband is stationed nearby. He has been married before and was scarred for life by the experience – okay that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you catch my drift. I, on the other hand have never been married, engaged, or even considered the idea.

My views on marriage aren’t complicated really, I think it’s a wonderful thing and if it suits you, do it. I grew up with unmarried parents which gave me my double-barreled surname (read more about names and marriage here). My parents did eventually marry after 34 years but it was sadly forced by the ill health of my dad who passed away just six months later (read more about that here). For them, they reached that point wondering why they hadn’t done it sooner?

Since having a baby,

I get asked a lot by the older generations, “Have you set a date now the baby is here?”, (despite not even being engaged) because ‘back in their day’ if you were ‘with child’ you’d get married…simple!

My not-husband’s late grandpa – who was in his 90s – would tell us; “When your grandmother got in the family way, I did the honourable thing“. Which of course meant marry her, so they wouldn’t have a child out of wedlock. It might be the honourable thing, but is that always the right thing?

Does doing the honourable thing mean marrying out of duty, rather than love? Do those marriages last? Do mum and dad NEED to be married? Does it create a more solid foundation? What benefits does it bring to the children or the family?

So what do I think?

I don’t think it creates a more solid foundation, no. I believe you can have an incredibly strong relationship without being married. Sometimes, getting married can actually put pressures on a relationship that wouldn’t otherwise be there! Perhaps parents or grandparents force or influence a union. And if there’s pressures, perhaps they lead to disagreements or create atmospheres, and could that ultimately lead to an unhappy home for children?

What about names?

I’ve written about those many times before (here). Prior to having our baby, I had mentioned that I was the only one in our household with my surname. My not-husband and his girls have his, and I have mine. Well, nothing has changed. I am still the odd one out!

I took real pleasure in our little boy having my name for three weeks, before registering him. Seeing his name on documents brought me great joy! It was me and my little boy, blended beautifully with his daddy and big sisters. Then came the name change and bizarrely it hit me harder than I had expected!

In the registry office, the chap asked us lots of questions, including what our baby’s surname would be. The plan was always to give him his dad’s surname but having it written and finalised made me feel really odd! We joked a lot about him having my name as it’s a big thing to me (read more here), but it was never a serious option. Despite this, the reality of it made my heart sink! Seeing it in print, all official and final really felt like he was no longer MY baby. Crazy, right?! But it really did get to me. I shared these feelings with my not-husband and he understood, which made me feel a little better about it.

I adjusted to the name change pretty quickly, and the bad feeling left me until a medical letter arrived in his new name. Seeing that gave me a pang of sadness, but it soon passed.

We then visited the doctor for his 6-week check (at 9 weeks due to Covid) and that got me once again! The doctor took our red book (baby record) and crossed out my surname and wrote his dad’s. It just felt so… I don’t know, like I was being removed somehow! Like he was erasing all trace that he was MY little boy! Again, it’s crazy I know, but that’s how it felt at the time.

So yes, the concept of marriage and name changes did cross my mind at this point. Perhaps if I had the same name as all our children, I would somehow feel more complete? But, I then ask myself, would I change my name even if we got married now? No, probably not actually. I am still proud of my name and would probably still keep it, despite being the odd one out. How I will feel when our little boy reaches school age and we have different surnames, I don’t know. But for now, I’m sticking with it!

So what about the children?

How will my little boy feel growing up knowing his mummy has a different name to him? Will he even notice or care? Do his sisters feel more connected to their new little brother because they share a name? Probably.

For me, I didn’t experience the name difference as my surname is both my parents names, so neither was left out.

Did I experience any issues with my parents not being married? No, I don’t think so? I don’t recall any problems but perhaps if I asked my mum, she might have a few. I do remember something about signing forms being difficult for dad, but I could be wrong there. It was a long time ago!

Growing up,

I’m not sure I ever noticed that my parents were not married and others were. I don’t think it meant anything to me as a child. But, being an adult, I definitely saw a different view. I guess I just turned into a hopeless romantic as I saw marriage for the joining of companions and the solidifying of love.

But it was a beautiful thing, being able to witness my parents get married after three decades together. The pride I felt and the sense of togetherness was overwhelming. It was a real family affair with my older brother giving away mum, my younger brother as best man, our girls and myself as bridesmaids, and my not-husband and sister-in-law as witnesses. It was a truly magical day and one I will cherish forever.

So for me, my parents not being married previously enabled me to share in (and help plan) the most beautiful and important day of their lives. Perhaps us not being married now, might mean that one day our children may be able to experience the same? Who knows!

But what does it mean practically?

Sure, legally it brings financial security (unless you’ve got a pre-nup) but does that only matter if you split? Or if devastatingly, one of you passes away far too early, as with my dad.

I guess if we went our separate ways then things would not be as clear cut as if we were married, but we have always said we would leave with what we came with – we’re both reasonable people. Of course situations change, like having a baby and as I’ve mentioned before, I’m an incredibly independent person. So this year, I have found it so difficult to adjust to not working or having my own income. It’s taken me nearly six years to accept ‘his money’ as ‘our money’, despite the fact we share everything. Even now, after having a baby together, I still feel uneasy using our joint card to pay for things because I didn’t earn it!

This leads me to think that if you are organised enough and have things covered, such as; life insurance policies or a will, as well as a reasonable view of your financial situation, then being married or not is irrelevant? I could be wrong! Maybe it would all go t*ts up if we decided to split. Luckily we won’t be finding out!

Since becoming a mum,

I have found my focus homed in on my own mortality far more. I worry about our little boy if anything were to happen to me! Even more so, as I’m breastfeeding, so he’s 100% reliant on me for the time being. And yes, it scares me! I get nervous about driving, not because I’m an anxious driver – I love driving – but because of the idiots on the road that I have no control over! They could rob my little boy of his mummy and there would be nothing I could do about it. These are things that never bothered me before!

Just the other day, my not-husband and I were talking about life insurance and our financial situation, should anything happen to either one of us. Granted, it isn’t the nicest of conversations to have, but it needs to be done. Being in the military comes with its owns risks for the person serving and as a family, I think it’s vital you prepare for that…whilst praying it never happens!

So yes, when viewed in that light, I do feel being married would be far more beneficial and the safer option for our little boy, but I’m still not sure it’s a necessity. We have the relevant pieces of the puzzle in place without it…I think.

But we are a military family after all, so a spanner in the works would come with an overseas posting. We’d have to be married to live overseas…or go unaccompanied again. And in that instance, we’d be marrying as a formality. And is that the right thing to do?!

So for now,

here’s where I stand. I still don’t think marriage is a necessity, even though we now have a child together. For me, it’s still just a romantic, lovely thing to do to signify your solidarity and commitment to one another.

Whilst in Scotland on our 2019 road trip, we stopped at Gretna Green (famous since 1754 for eloping couples) and added an engraved padlock to their Love Lock sign. The engraving said ‘Forever Not Husband and Not Wife‘, with our names on the back. That was our own way of signifying our love and commitment. The key to the padlock is in Loch Leven, never to be found!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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26th January 2020 – I found out I was pregnant. No one in the UK really thought anything of this virus that was taking hold in a little city in China. We had no idea what was about to come our way!

On January 31st, the first two cases in the UK were confirmed.

28th February, the first British death occurred on board the Diamond Princess Cruise Ship, quarantined at the Port of Yokohomo, Japan.

5th March, the first death inside the UK, and the total number of cases stood at just 115.

By 23rd March, the entire UK was in a national ‘lockdown’, being told to ‘stay at home‘. A global pandemic was well and truly underway. Luckily we’d managed to have our 12-week scan just before, so my not-husband was able to join me in that.

The upside…

Fortunately, we had some beautiful weather in March and April, so staying home wasn’t that bad. We’re lucky that we have our garden to venture out into. I can’t imagine how people who didn’t have that mini escapism must have felt!

My not-husband was able to take a little time off during that first lockdown, as the base went down to essential manning only, with crews working week-on, week-off. Like everyone, we thought ‘great, let’s crack on with house jobs‘. In reality, we didn’t achieve much at all! I was struggling with sickness and headaches; on top of the usual pregnancy tiredness, so I wasn’t much use.

Silver linings to being pregnant in a pandemic…

My day job ceased almost immediately, which I’m actually quite thankful for. I was in no fit state to be visiting people in their homes! At the beginning of March I’d spent several visits trying my hardest not to throw up in clients’ bathrooms, which wasn’t ideal. As a result, I was secretly loving the opportunity to stay at home!!

Antenatal appointments were going ahead as planned. My midwife did offer a phone appointment, instead of face to face, but I declined. I just couldn’t get on board with not seeing a midwife in person. At these appointments, they’d listen to the baby’s heartbeat, measure my bump, and take my blood pressure. So I didn’t think those things should be skipped – just to be on the safe side.

20 Week Anomoly Scan…

This one was a little different!

By this point, the pandemic was raging, and partners were not allowed into the hospital. Scans can be nerve-wracking at the best of times, never mind going alone! As I have mentioned before, I experience terrible ‘scanxiety‘: often vomiting before a scan.

I was terrified of bad news! Convinced they’d tell me something was wrong! ‘How do you receive that kind of information alone?!‘

Thankfully all was well! I was so nervous right up until she’d checked all over and told me the baby was doing great! ‘What a relief!‘

The other part of this scan, as most will know, is you can often find out the sex of your baby. My not-husband already has 2 girls, so secretly we were both hoping for a boy! We had already decided to find out, but I didn’t want to be told without him there.

He was in the car park, nervously waiting for me to return, hoping it was all good news and the baby was healthy! It’s a subject for another day, but I feel the mental health of partners who have had to be on the outside throughout pregnancies is something that has been overlooked!

In the scan room, the Sonographer asked if I’d like to know, so I said, “Yes, but would you be able to just write it down and not tell me, please?“. She replied, “Sure, I’ll type it out on your scan photo and put it in an envelope for you.” I thought this was a wonderful way of doing things!

But…

There’s me lying there, over-thinking, as usual. ‘Shit, I’ll hear the number of keystrokes as she types! Don’t listen! Don’t listen! Distract yourself!‘

She told me to look away whilst she checked and then came the keystrokes…

One, two, three, four, five, six!

Awesome! I had no idea if it said boy or girl! I was so happy. She printed it out, popped it into an envelope, and slipped it inside my notes.

The walk back to the car seemed to take forever!!!

Outside…

My not-husband was waiting nervously on a bench. We walked back to the car together, discussing what she’d said health-wise. We got to the car and sat down on the edge of the boot. Neither of us wanted to open the envelope; both convinced it said girl! We talked for a moment. Whatever the result we were happy, we were grateful for this little one, and were over the moon he or she was healthy!

Then came the moment! I opened the envelope and held the photo face down. One, two, three…flip!

Oh my goodness! There was no mistaking the gender that was for sure! We both sat amazed for a moment. We couldn’t believe it said, BOY!!! It was such an emotional moment!

I glanced over at the trees to our left and saw 4 magpies sat in the tree! (“One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy!“)

‘Amazing!‘ I thought!

A memory that will stay with us forever! Much more so than if my not-husband had been in the scan room and we saw it on the screen together. So I am thankful for the way things were.

Breaking the news…

We had to rely on technology to help us out with this one! WhatsApp video calls were our best friend!

First on the list were our girls (my step-daughters) as we thought it only right they were the first to know. They hadn’t been coming to us – despite being allowed – as at that point in the pandemic, it wasn’t clear if it was adversely affecting pregnant women or not.

After that, we moved onto parents, then siblings, then the wider family and friends. Yes, it swallowed up most of our evening, but at least there was no traveling involved!

The summer arrived and things opened up a little. We made the dash for a last-minute getaway in our motorhome before our baby arrived. I was 34 weeks pregnant so we chose a destination less than two hours from home – ready to dash back to the hospital if needed! It was only three nights, but that was more than long enough to spend in a van with two teenage girls!

A little treat…

As my not-husband hadn’t been able to attend scans or appointments, when he asked me what I wanted for my birthday in July, I suggested getting a private 4D scan as I was 33 weeks pregnant. We were both able to attend and it was all really well carried out.

‘Scanxiety’ had struck again on the way there, and I was in a pretty bad way, vomiting in the car. It was awful! I wasn’t able to enjoy the experience as I should have done, but seeing our baby boy’s beautiful little face made it all worth it.

If it hadn’t been for the pandemic we wouldn’t have booked a 4D scan, so there’s another positive.

Nearly there…

Things were going fairly smoothly, then I broke my foot at 36 weeks pregnant. Luckily it wasn’t bad and wouldn’t affect my labour plans. At 37 weeks, there were issues with the baby’s fluid levels. As a result, I had to go in several times for scans and tests, all of which were on my own again due to the pandemic rules.

‘Scanxiety’ hit once again, except this time I had no idea what would happen at each visit. By 39 weeks, they wanted to induce me – and yep, you guessed it – that would be alone, too. Things were very different for the women pregnant in 2020. It truly was a lonely journey!

I’ll sign off here or this post will go on forever! I may share my story of birthing during a global pandemic if people would like to read it

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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They lied!

It’s not all pink and fluffy like we’re told. Not everyone ‘enjoys’ pregnancy. Some of us struggle growing a human and THAT’S OKAY!

As I write this, it’s 0350hrs and I’m sat in my conservatory eating cereal and drinking a decaf tea! Having woken up at 0200hrs to pee, I attempted to go back to sleep but the hunger got too much! I’m sure this baby thinks “if you’re awake, you’re going to feed me!”…demanding already!!

I’m currently 29 weeks pregnant with our little boy (my first but my not-husband’s third after two girls) and to be fair, this IS the ‘nice part’ . People always said to me the ‘nice part’ will come and I thought they were lying! For the first 4 months of pregnancy, it was horrendous and I wondered how it could ever improve or be ‘nice’?!?!

But here I am, not feeling completely wiped out, or sick, or crippled with a headache. Miracles do exist! Hurrah!

Pregnancy – The First Part

Urgh! Where do I start?!

As soon as I became pregnant, before I even knew about it, I felt awful! I thought I was coming down with something. At around 4 weeks I began feeling a bit off. I was at a clients house one Friday afternoon and suddenly felt faint and incredibly sick. So bad that I had to call for cover and leave (I was sat with an elderly lady whilst her husband was out running errands). My fear was that I’d picked up a virus or something and didn’t want to pass it on to this lady and compromise her health. I’d also missed breakfast that day and was about to prepare lunch when I came over feeling like this. I thought it couldn’t be skipping a meal because that had never affected me before. It was odd!

I spent the rest of the day in bed feeling nauseous and a bit light headed, not thinking much of it really. I thought maybe I’d overdone it lately?! Saturday wasn’t much better, I woke up feeling nauseous but it passed. Again, thinking nothing of it, wondering if it was some sort of winter bug I’d got.

I don’t know what made me think differently throughout the day, perhaps an instinct of some kind, but I began to wonder if I might be pregnant?! We’d had a miscarriage in November so my cycles were a bit haywire and I couldn’t be sure if I was late or not as sometimes it can take a while to return to normal. I didn’t think we had been ‘in the danger zone’, but something was telling me it absolutely could be that I was pregnant. As I’ve said previously, we weren’t trying conceive…quite the opposite really. Read more about that here.

First thing the next morning…

I took a test and boom, there it was! The line appeared the second my pee hit the stick. It couldn’t have been more of a positive if it tried! A far cry from the faint line we’d had last November!

It was all downhill from here!

Firstly, I struggled to finish my cups of tea! I love a good cupa so this was the first symptom I thought could do one! Then came the hunger! Why was I so hungry ALL THE TIME, and why did I feel nauseous if I didn’t eat right away?! Urgh!

By 7 weeks I was REALLY beginning to feel rough! I felt sick as soon as I woke up and struggled to eat breakfast. Some days I felt so nauseous I was unable to get out of bed so I’d have to stay put, nibbling on dry cereal and sipping water. It was a definite ‘insta vs reality’ moment! My not-husband was great, he began bringing me breakfast biscuits each morning to help settle my stomach before I attempted to get up.

CRISPS!

Plain, baked, salty crisps! The only thing that kept the nausea at bay between meals. I was so hungry but couldn’t just eat all day, especially whilst working, so those crisps became my best friend. Getting me through the work day without vomiting.

The next level!

The tiredness was a bit of a shock. I found myself struggling to stay awake some afternoons. The worst part was, sitting in someone’s cosy house, in a comfy chair and NOT nodding off! It was January and February so often the heating was on making it extra cosy!!

I was just so tired, even after a full nights sleep I found myself needing to nap during the day…which of course isn’t always possible.

At nine weeks we’d been booked in for an early scan due to the last pregnancy and my anxiety around losing this one. The day before the scan, my symptoms seemed to disappear. They just vanished! I remember being convinced we’d lost it – an horrendous feeling! I woke up and didn’t feel sick for the first time in weeks!

The morning of the scan though, it was back with a vengeance! I threw up violently! Our hospital is a 40 minute drive away and I spent the entire time trying not to be sick in the car…

And that’s another thing!

Car sickness! I now felt nauseous as a passenger and had to drive myself to feel okay. Except that morning of course, I felt way too ill to drive!

The scan was fine, a good strong heart beat and everything as it should be. We met my mum that evening in a local pub (pre-lockdown) and told her the news. She’d known I’d been unwell and I couldn’t keep telling her I had a bug! I struggled my way through a vegetable lasagne which is one of my favourite meals! I think I had to end up taking half home with me as I just couldn’t eat it all. That night, I was getting ready for bed and I saw my lasagne once again (insert crying face!) I was now also hungry but unable to eat…that familiar cycle!

The Headaches!

Oh the headaches!! Why me?! I used to have terrible stress induced migraines but hadn’t had one for years! Probably a good 4 years since my last one. They were back, but this time they seemed to be hormone induced. They say pregnancy lessens migraines, well mine didn’t get that memo!

Almost daily I had a headache which if I didn’t catch quick enough, would turn into a migraine. Migraines would knock me out for at least a day or two, sometimes more! Really aware I was still in the first trimester, I didn’t want to be dosed up on medication all the time. I tried taking just half a paracetamol to take the edge off and that usually worked.

One morning in particular though, I’d got up and had a niggling headache – always on the right side…so predictable! I sat in my conservatory and put my head on a cushion. Pressure seemed to help dull the pain but this one wasn’t going anywhere. It escalated quickly and became a full blown migraine. My not-husband had gone to work as normal and when he left I just had the usual headache and nausea so nothing for him to worry about. By 10am, I couldn’t move! I couldn’t lift my head without wanting to be sick nor could I open my right eye without piercing pain.

I was incapacitated.

We have 4 dogs who by this point were wondering where on earth their breakfast was! I had to text my neighbour and ask her to come round and feed them for me. Luckily she’s amazing and always on hand if I need anything (and vice versa). She always checks in with me if she knows my not-husband is away too. Just the kind of neighbour and friend every military spouse needs!

It wasn’t until around 20-22weeks that the headaches tapered off. Up until that point I’d often find myself having to spend hours lying down, feeling like I was incredibly hungover and ‘foggy’. I’d end up writing off entire days due to headaches, which actually wasn’t such an inconvenience as by that point lockdown was well and truly underway and there was nowhere to be!

It gets better though, right?!

You’d like to think so!

The acid. The hip pain. The bleeding gums. The inability to eat a whole meal. The breathlessness. The lack of shoes that fit. The irritability. The heat. The feet in my ribs! The ‘Snissing’ (pee dribbles when sneezing!) Then there’s the more intimate issues…

Do I need to continue? Gone are the days of being comfortable! I think I’m lucky though. Some women experience far worse than that little list.

Currently, I cannot go a full night without getting up to pee, which I wouldn’t mind if I could go back to sleep after! Nope wide awake and then we’re back to the start…hungry!

Many a morning my not-husband will wake up to an empty bed. He thinks it’s weird. I just give up and take a pillow to the sofa. Sometimes I’ll drift off for a bit, others I’ll have a cupa and go back to bed to try again. Meditation is a big help in settling me back down into sleep. Simple guided sleep meditations on YouTube do the job.

I believe I’m lucky even with all of this though. I could still be suffering with the sickness so thank goodness that ended around week 18. Occasionally now it returns in the mornings and I struggle with breakfast but nothing like before, thankfully.

Still, my human is growing!

He’s growing by the day and I’m incredibly lucky to be having him. That doesn’t mean I can’t admit to it being hard and not enjoying it. Pregnancy isn’t my friend but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for him. If you’re struggling with pregnancy or not enjoying the process…THAT’S OKAY! We all experience things differently and that’s our right to. Don’t feel guilty for your feelings, they’re yours and they’re valid! Not all of us enjoy pregnancy or find it magical and wonderful.

And that’s okay! Stay strong! You’ve got this!

For information and tips on staying mentally and emotionally well, visit Tommy’s (click here). Plenty of resources and suggestions to help. My inbox is also always open to anyone who’d like to get in contact.

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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Rewind…

Let me take you back to a previous blog post not so long ago. Our story of an early miscarriage. If you haven’t got time to read the full post, here’s a quick recap.

In November 2019 we found out we were pregnant, but after only a few days, a doctor confirmed a miscarriage. It was super early but that didn’t mean it didn’t affect us. We were devastated, after just getting our heads around expecting a baby, straight into being told we’d lost it.

Fast forward to January 2020 when we discovered we’d conceived AGAIN! Much to our amazement – although we’re perfectly aware of how babies are made. As my previous post describes, we weren’t trying to conceive but we also weren’t making much effort to avoid it either. We followed my cycles but this isn’t foolproof. Following the miscarriage my cycles weren’t as they were, and with it being Christmas and New Year, we weren’t really paying much attention. We were enjoying family time, being at home and just generally relaxing after what was an awful year. We’d lost my Dad in the April, so life was a little upside down for a while. If it’s of interest, I wrote about my journey through grief here.

That’s definitely positive!

The week we found out, I’d not felt good. I even had to leave work early on the Friday as I felt really unwell at lunch. I’d missed breakfast and suddenly felt faint, dizzy and like I could just throw up. REALLY weird! Skipping a meal had never affected me like this before! I spent the next day or so feeling nauseous and ‘off’, and struggled with the bizarre need to constantly eat just to feel ‘well’.

Something wasn’t right and I just had an inkling that perhaps I was pregnant again…? Back in November I’d gone for a job in a local prison and found out I was pregnant the day before the interview. The news was a massive distraction and I didn’t perform as well as I could have. Needless to say, I didn’t get the job. The same job came up in January and I reapplied. We’d joked about it happening again but never thought it actually would!

It did!

26th January I took the test – a lovely quiet Sunday morning and I had the interview coming up on the Tuesday! What’re the chances?! Same job, same situation!

So that Sunday morning, I followed my instincts and took a test. The second my pee hit the stick, it started to show a positive line! I remember looking at it in disbelief, thinking “how could it work THAT quick?!”. Unlike last time when we had a faint positive at first, this one was screaming out PREGNANT!!

I took the test into my not-husband and said “Erm, you know how we joked about the same situation happening again? Well…” and gave him the test to see for himself. He was just as surprised as I was! I can’t recall the exact conversation as it’s all a bit of a blur, but I do remember him being a lot more chilled about it than me.

I was still silently freaking out about having a baby!!

Mixed emotions about a baby…

Now, this blog is my place to be honest. So here it is. I absolutely had mixed feelings knowing I was pregnant again. My first reaction wasn’t like you see on TV, I didn’t jump for joy, I wasn’t excited. In fact I felt the opposite! I think I almost felt dread and disappointment, which sounds awful to say but in that moment, I felt this was completely the wrong timing.

We’d lost our first in November and that gave us a glimpse at a possible future. The life we began to envisage was taken away and it hurt. I like to try and find the positives of any situation and I felt perhaps it was an opportunity to work on myself for a while. I had struggled a lot over the last year or so with “what’s my purpose?!“. I’d given up my business, cared for my dad who was just 60 when he passed away and I’d just started embarking on a counselling career.

My confidence had taken a nose dive in recent months, I just wasn’t ‘me‘ anymore, so after the loss (and all the ‘I failed as a woman’ thoughts), I felt I should take the time to build myself back up. Hence the initial mixed feelings I experienced. I felt terrible for feeling this way! I thought of women who long to be pregnant! But I was also petrified we’d lose this one too and have to go through it all again. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to this little one, which made me feel worse about how I felt. I desperately wanted this pregnancy and baby to be healthy.

Let’s just say…I was a bit of a mess inside!

My not-husband was amazing. He was on the “it’ll all be fine” bus. Of course he had the same fears as I did after our previous loss but he didn’t let me see, he just let me know he was there and that whatever happened we would get through it.

I have to tell someone!

That afternoon I’d arranged to meet my friend (I’ve mentioned her before…I cried at her wedding in the run up to losing my Dad!) for a coffee and a catch up. I still went and didn’t plan on telling her our news. As we caught up, she was asking how I was feeling (emotionally) since the miscarriage. If she’d have asked the day before, I’d have told her how I was feeling better but still consumed by thoughts of why it happened, what life would be like going forward, how I felt about ‘children’ as a whole.

In my previous posts I’ve talked about how I’ve never been the type of person to WANT kids. I didn’t feel like being maternal had ever been in my instincts, although I have two stepdaughters (nearly 13 & 15) who I have a great relationship with. My not-husband had always said he didn’t want any more children; although, he’d also said, if it happened, it would be a good thing (confusing I know!) so it was never on the cards for us, hence we never REALLY talked about it seriously. My feelings changed after the miscarriage though and I felt like I DID want this (but not yet!)… Just to throw in some extra confusion!

So when my friend asked me that, I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know anymore! “I’ve got to tell you because if I don’t tell someone, I’m going to go mad!” and proceeded to tell her about the test I’d taken a few hours earlier. She was so excited for us! She jumped out of her chair (7 months pregnant herself by this point!) and gave me a hug. It felt like a huge relief to tell her and talk through my fears. She totally understood and made me feel slightly less crazy. She too was on the “it’ll all be fine” bus with my not-husband.

Acceptance

It wasn’t until week 11 that I finally felt like I’d accepted what was happening. That this baby was happening and my life was changing! Up until that point I’d had an awful time – I was so unwell I hated being pregnant! (that’s a post for another day!) The sickness and headaches lasted up until around 18 weeks which made me feel so rotten! I can’t even begin to list all the emotions I went through, I felt everything!

We had a scan at nine weeks due to my anxiety and fear of another miscarriage and luckily all was absolutely fine with baby. I think that helped shift my thoughts after seeing our little tiny human on a screen for the first time. It kind of hit me that day, it was real and not just in my head, but it still all seemed so surreal and I almost felt in denial. I really struggled to connect with this baby inside me and it wasn’t easy to admit!

As I write this, we’re now at 25 weeks and all is well. It certainly hasn’t been easy and I’m sure there’s plenty more to come. But for now, baby is healthy, I am nine-tenths human and life isn’t looking so gloomy!

No matter what you’re feeling, it’s absolutely fine and normal to be experiencing it. Whether you have children or stepchildren already, or you’re pregnant, or trying to conceive, or maybe you’re totally against ever having children…each decision you make is your own and however you feel about it is okay! Remember to reach out, you might be surprised at how many others feel the same way as you do.

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I have written about loss before, after losing my Dad, but this is something very different. This was unexpected and brought more emotions than I could ever have imagined! One in four pregnancies end in miscarriage but so few talk openly about it. I felt so alone and unsure of what to expect.

In just six days my world turned upside down and did a back flip. From a + on a test, to sitting in a doctor’s room, this is my story. (15 minute read)

Let me rewind a little…

My not-husband and I weren’t trying to conceive but we also weren’t completely avoiding it either. That didn’t mean it wasn’t still a shock when I saw the + sign on the test.

It was a normal Wednesday morning, except I had an odd suspicion that something was awry. I peed on a stick and went downstairs to make a cupa. After a few minutes, I flipped the stick, half expecting to see nothing and I’d carry on with my day.

Nope, life had other ideas.

There staring back at me was a faint blue line where the ‘plus’ sign should be. I stopped in my tracks and readjusted my eyes a few times. “No, it can’t be?!“. I felt like it wasn’t real; like I was seeing things. I started questioning; “perhaps it’s a faulty test, maybe the line was there before, it could just be a mistake“.

Of course, none of these things were true and the test was performing as it should. I knew it was accurate as I ‘felt’ pregnant. Something I would never have been able to describe until I felt it, a weird internal inclination.

“Shit!” I thought. “How did this happen?!” Well, of course, I know how it happened as well as when, but in that moment, I didn’t want to believe it. I sat cupping my tea, wondering what to do now!

I text my not-husband to see if he’d be free for lunch. He replies, “why what’s up?!“. I have to reassure him nothing is wrong, that I just thought it would be nice (LIES! I was freaking out here!) He agrees and suggests 1130hrs. But that is a few hours away, I can’t sit around that long!

So off I go to do the food shop I’d planned to do already to try and distract myself from the racing thoughts inside my head. Shopping didn’t really work, I forgot half of the stuff on the list, despite the list being in my hand the whole time! I just couldn’t think straight!

1130hrs nears…

My not-husband texts me, “Fred* is joining us for lunch, hope that’s okay“. WOAH! Not really no! I’m on my way to tell him we’re pregnant! My brain is even more crazy right now! I reply “Erm, no not really, but sure“. How else could I say it without giving too much away. So I drive to camp (he’s at work) and I wait in the cafe car park anxiously checking to see if he appears alone or with company. Considering how I will handle either eventuality when it arrives.

He’s alone…thank f*ck for that! Phew! I can breathe a little. But wait! That means I actually have to tell him!

Reality

So we sit there, I’m listening, nodding and “mhmm”ing, waiting for a natural pause so I can tell him. He’s rambling about work stuff so I just say “I have to show you something! “. On my phone screen is a photo of the positive test, he looks at it and blinks a few times.

“IS THAT..???“

“Yes darling, it is“, I reply, hands shaking as I hold the phone. The shakes were part anxiety, part adrenaline. It had all seemed so ‘in my head’, but now I had told him, it was real! This was our reality. This was happening. I was pregnant!

We both sat for a while, nervously laughing, a bit of disbelief on both sides; yet some kind of excitement thrown in the mix. We talk about various things and then try to refocus on our day ahead once we leave the café. He was due to fly and I didn’t want him distracted by this bombshell. I, on the other hand, had to go and get the shopping I didn’t get first time round! We parts ways and I tell him I love him. He replies, “I love you two, too“.

That sentence floods me with thoughts of, “oh my goodness, this is real now”, some level of, “shit, I can’t deal with this!” and a small hint of happiness.

It was still so new for me, I didn’t think I would ever be maternal or actually WANT a child. I’ve always had such self-doubt and felt like I could never be that motherly person. I didn’t feel like an adult capable of raising a child. The idea of having children filled me with dread 90% of the time. But I’m female and those hormonal, instinctive urges were there. The sound of the biological clock that I can no longer drown out. The whole thing confused me a lot if I’m honest; something changed that day. It weirdly felt right.

That scared me!

My not-husband had his reservations too, he’s ‘been there, done that’ and wasn’t keen on doing it again. He has teenagers and had started thinking about retirement plans once he leaves the military! This was yet another reason I was so nervous about telling him as I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d react.

When we first met, he said, “no more kids and definitely no marriage” which at the time seemed pretty reasonable as we’d both been in long term relationships and didn’t fancy getting too deep again. But of course, things change!

Surprisingly he was actually fine when I told him and he quickly started planning. He’d got all the practical stuff like the house, cars, money, etc worked out whilst I was still flapping about being able to cope mentally. I have anxiety flare-ups from time to time, so the fear of having a baby was really quite real for me!

Three long days…

We spent the rest of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday talking a lot; discussing how things were about to change drastically for us. My not-husband would swing from “I’m too old to start again” to, “Okay, so we need to change your car…”. I did feel he was getting way too far ahead of himself though; he’d mentally redesigned the girl’s rooms and thrown out furniture and built new stuff; all before I had got my head around the fact that I was actually pregnant. I loved his ideas for storage and so on, but it was too far ahead for me to think about, I couldn’t hear this!

I loved that it was coming from a nervous yet excited place within him, but I couldn’t help think he was moving a bit too quickly. I was so apprehensive about everything as it was only a faint line on a test (okay, 2 tests – I had to do another Friday to be sure it wasn’t all in my head!). But I’d not seen a doctor or had it confirmed by a professional. I read a lot of blogs and am fully aware of the devastating things that happen to women all the time; aware of what can be lost so easily!

Boom! There it is…!

Saturday morning I woke up, everything fine as normal. I’m currently training to be a counsellor and had a day of that ahead of me, so I was getting ready to go; slightly distracted by the thoughts of continued dread/excitement/nervousness. Then it all went wrong…

I felt some pain low down, kind of cramping but more sudden and severe. I’d nipped to the toilet, not thinking much of it. Women have cramps whilst pregnant all the time, but when I saw the blood I knew something was wrong. I told my not-husband and he started googling it; I think he was hoping to reassure me.

At first, I wasn’t completely sure as it was more like spotting. I tried to convince myself it’s all fine and that spotting is common. I had no choice but to carry on and go to my course, hoping for the best as I went.

During that morning I experienced a lot of pain and the loss was getting heavier by the hour. I knew then, that was it. It couldn’t be anything else. It was over and I had to adjust once again to a huge change.

That evening…

We were at friend’s for the night, celebrating a super early Christmas get together as it was the only weekend we were all free. It’s an annual meet with my not-husband’s friends of many years.

If I’m honest, it was kind of nice having the distraction as I couldn’t overthink or dwell on what was happening. It wasn’t ideal though, in a group of 10 adults, I was the sober one; quiet and reserved, trying not to let on what was happening. Downing paracetamol with my water, attempting to dull the pain of having a miscarriage.

There was still a glimmer of hope as I’ve known women bleed heavily and not miscarry, so I had to continue as if I was pregnant until I knew for sure. Deep down we knew what was happening and I didn’t ‘feel’ pregnant any more.

Monday morning I was given an appointment with the doctor immediately. She confirmed a miscarriage but was concerned by the pain I was having. She wanted to send me for a scan to check for any physical damage but the hospital refused as it was too early. I had to go home, rest and cross my fingers that there wasn’t anything else going on (ectopic, etc).

But how do you cope with something like this?!

The pain and bleeding stopped after a few days and my hormones settled down (eventually). The crazy brain, on the other hand, has been a different thing entirely! So many reminders and triggers you never think of before it happens to you.

My not-husband took a day or two to get his head around it, but in classic military style, he’d pushed it aside, soldiered on and vowed to deal with it another day. I explained it might not be that easy for me. Time would be a healer for sure in this instance. Coming to terms with it is hard enough without pregnancy hormones in the way. My body was as confused as my brain was for that week.

From a positive test on Wednesday to a doctor confirming a miscarriage on the following Monday. Our world had been flipped more than once and I was struggling to keep up. For the three days I knew I was pregnant, I was dealing with a sense of overwhelming responsibility for this life inside. I had to protect it in every way, it was fully reliant on me. One thing I think that made it harder after losing it.

“It’s not your fault, these things just happen”

They always say that, but for me, I am very logical and quite ’cause and effect’ when it comes to anything remotely scientific. I felt like I had failed as a woman. Failed to keep this thing alive. Failed to grow it. I questioned my every action, from the drinks I had at a wedding the day after we’d conceived, to the workout I’d done the week I found out. It really felt like I must have done something to make this happen.

I don’t believe in things happening without a cause but I do believe everything happens for a reason. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it wasn’t the right time? Maybe I wasn’t ready yet? Perhaps it was a test? So many questions!!

Six weeks on…

Things are going well, yet the thoughts remain. I still feel I failed in some way. I had a bit of a crisis in the weeks after, wondering what my purpose was as it clearly wasn’t to be a mother. But I try to put those thoughts aside.

I continue to wonder what life would have been like. We went for a pre-Christmas lunch with my in-laws and that day hit me unexpectedly. We’d agreed to keep quiet until Christmas and that day would have been the day we told both our parents. Sadly we’d told them the sad news a couple of weeks before; both sides were devastated! My mother-in-law had even cried. As I sat there, eating my jacket potato I was thinking about how different this day would have been, had all been well. Everyone blissfully unaware of the chaos in my mind that day!

Now I see things and feel a sense of sadness. I look at other families and wonder if we’d have been lucky enough to have a boy or if we’d end up with three girls. I see cute baby items and know I’d have bought them yet now I have no need. I hug my pregnant best friend and pray baby arrives safely. Life is so so precious, no matter how many weeks it’s been in existence.

Time is an unknown quantity!

It may have only been 5 weeks we were pregnant for and 3 days we’d known about it, but it still existed and it still matters. It impacted my life harder than anything I’d been through before, aside from the loss of my dad.

Even that bought tears to me. It broke my heart to think that any child we would have had, would never know their grandad and my dad would never know his grandchild. I’d grown up without knowing either of my Grandads and I never dreamed the same would happen for our child.

I didn’t cry for our loss initially, I accepted it and felt some kind of guilt, coupled with a sense of invalidity; like I couldn’t cry about it because it was so early on and it wasn’t ‘a child’. Many women miscarry at 5 weeks without even knowing they’re pregnant. I felt guilty for feeling sad because there are women who experience the loss much further along than I was. I felt like I didn’t have the right to grieve as it didn’t exist for long. That, of course, is all rubbish as we all feel and experience things differently. Your feelings matter irrelevant of the circumstances. If it affects you, feel it, process it and gain strength from it.

Hidden emotions…

It wasn’t until a week later when we scattered my dad’s ashes (yep full-on emotional month, with my not-husband’s Grandpa’s funeral to follow on Monday!) that I realised how much the miscarriage had affected me emotionally. That night my not-husband sent an incredibly heartfelt message to our family group chat, which sparked tears for all who read it.

My wonderful not-husband had no idea what he’d started! I couldn’t stop crying! It wasn’t that I was upset that we’d scattered dad’s ashes as that was his wish, we’d fulfilled it just the way he’d asked and it was a beautiful, happy (but moving) occasion. I was crying because the reality was more raw than ever.

Firstly that my dad would never meet his grandchild (if we had one) and secondly, I was grieving the loss of our baby. 5 weeks may seem like nothing to most people but to us, it was everything. We were grieving the loss of its potential. The loss of how our lives could have been. The loss of the three days we’d spent mapping out the way our future might look.

I cried for hours…

The tears just kept falling out faster than I could stop them. I realised I’d bottled everything up until then but also the reality had hit me a little. The acceptance stage of grief. It hurt! I had to stop it somehow, so I opened a blank blog post and began writing. I wrote and wrote; every feeling inside me, ones I hadn’t acknowledged were even there. The pain I felt was real and I had to get it down into words. It’s something that will never be published but will be revisited. An extract of pure emotion in the moment!

Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought about it. I asked my not-husband one night, “do you think about what we lost?“. He doesn’t think like I do though, he’s super logical; in a, ‘it was here, now it’s not’ kinda way. He told me he occasionally thinks about it but to him, it’s gone and he’s moved on. I’m not entirely sure how true that is as I know he buries his emotions, but he knows I’m available to talk about it if he ever wants to.

For me, I still question why, I still wonder if it will happen again and how our future will look now.

Thank you for reading if you got this far. My hope is for just one person to feel that they’re not alone, or that they can understand what someone else is going through. By sharing our stories, we can help each other cope with these things in life.

I am one in four and this was my story.

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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*Names have been changed

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3 years ago, I was getting up at 4am to wave off my not-husband to Canada. He was deploying for the second time that year! You begin to accept that getting up at 1, 2, 3, 4 or even 5am is just part of the deal sometimes!

The alarm goes and we get up in the dark, sneaking downstairs, trying not to wake anyone else. The Spaniel thinks it’s wonderful we’re up, celebrating by banging his tail against the kitchen radiator! Ssh!!

We had been through a deployment once already that summer, he’d only been home six weeks and boy did we squeeze a lot in! We’d had a holiday with the kids, been to two weddings, ran an event for the local community, plus the usual days out and daily dog walks too.

So when 23rd September arrived, it was way too soon! We hadn’t seen enough of one another! We’d been so busy! How was he leaving again already?!

4am. Bags are packed, Spaniel is wagging and I’m trying not to let any tears slip out. We had done this before – not so long ago – so I knew what to expect, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Spaniel had realised what was happening by this point and thought he’d try and go with. No such luck pup!

That deployment was a weird one!

By this point, we’d now been together a year so this wasn’t a short term thing. We were stronger than ever and loving being our blended family of four. I spent several days with the kids (his two from a previous marriage) whilst he was away, growing our bond more each time.

October arrived, bringing his birthday. That got to me a little! The kids and I spent the day eating cake for Daddy and enjoying ourselves at a village hall event (proper country life!) I sent him pictures and hoped he would have a good day despite working. It was hard to talk with the time difference and as for the signal…

Before he left, we’d discussed living together and had been looking at some houses. Now some may think this is pretty quick, but we knew it felt right and it just made sense for us. We hadn’t found anything right in the short time he was home and definitely hadn’t had the time to view any!

So mid October when I get a text saying, “Hey, there’s this house just been listed, could you check it out, maybe arrange a viewing?”

Oh the pressure!!

I clicked the link and could instantly see why he’d sent it! Stunning! It was an 1860’s railway cottage, extended, beautiful kitchen and even a wood-burner in the brick built conservatory extension…this was the one we’d been searching for!

I arranged a viewing the next day and met my parents and his, at the house. There was no way I could view and make a decision by myself, that would be crazy! I figured parents would provide my not-husband with a knowledgeable opinion when it came to ‘what to look for’.

Both sets of parents fell in love with the place! I’d taken some extra photos to send. Ones with people he knew in them, to get a real sense of the rooms; not like estate agent pictures that tend to be stretched and widened. Well, he loved it too!

Oh shit! Now what?!

“Put an offer in, see what they say“. Erm, hold on a sec, you want me to do what?!

This was craziness! He was trusting me to do what?! Was HE crazy? Was this some kind of mid-deployment crisis?! The estate agent told us there were 18 viewings planned for over the weekend. It was a popular property and I could see why!

Monday morning arrived and I put in our offer. The estate agent tells me, “There’s eight offers on the table, it’ll be down to the seller to decide which suits him best“. I thought, great! We can forget it then, we’re going through a deployment so things won’t be simple, the other offers are probably far more straightforward!

“Hello, I’m pleased to tell you, your offer has been accepted!“

Wait, what the…? How?! We couldn’t do anything for at least a month! Turns out, the guy wanted a bit of time to sort his new property, so we won! Sweet! Deployment had worked in our favour!

Comm’s between myself and my not-husband were always a day out as he was 7 hours behind. By the time we’d get to talk and discuss things, the estate agents were always shut. I had to wait (painfully) until around 1500 hrs UK time, for him to wake up over there. My parents were there when I got the call, so I met my in-laws at the pub for lunch to tell them the news.

‘Argggh! This was happening!‘

Never had I done anything like this before! Then add the pressure of my darling not-husband leaving me to handle a house sale! I’m not going to lie, it was all a little surreal! My anxiety was ramped up daily; contacting solicitors and organising a survey…waiting a day between each to confirm with my not-husband.

Hello November!

This was only a short deployment this time so he arrived back in plenty of time to help with the move (luckily!) One dark evening, we arranged an informal viewing and met the house owner so my not-husband could see the house he was buying. Sheer madness!

He was understandably nervous but also excited that the ball was already rolling! We couldn’t wait to move in now! The next time he deployed, we’d be home owners and that brought a whole new chess game to navigate!!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I think we’ve all questioned this at some point. Haven’t we?! “Are we ‘adulting’ correctly?!”

I glanced over at the birthday card on the fireplace whilst sipping my morning tea and it hit me! Right there, right then.

I am an actual adult! Sharing my story because I feel we all question ourselves sometimes and yet we’re all doing just fine!

The birthday card was “To my wonderful (not) Wife and Best Friend”. It suddenly dawned on me. This person in my life – my amazing not-husband – thinks the world of me. He thinks I’m great and appreciates all I do! Who’d have thought it?!

Next to his card and flowers were cards from both his children, sending their love to me on my birthday, even though I wouldn’t be seeing them for another week.

I look around and our house was in chaos because of renovations, but it’s OURS! Craziness!

I am an actual adult, living a grown up life!

“The practice of behaving in a way characteristic of a responsible adult…”

Definition of ‘adulting’

I’ve never paid attention to it before – the adult part to my life. I have always felt inadequate, behind somehow or just not doing it right. Society has such pressures; increasingly so with social media and it’s more important than ever to not fall foul of those.

Society suggests there are certain time frames for reaching life’s milestones or an idea of how we should be living as adults. Stereotypes and expectations suggest when we should be marrying, what type of career aspirations we should have or what age we should be having children.

But times are changing!!

Firstly, stop comparing yourself!

Comparing yourselves to others is one of the worst things you can do. Everyone is different and just because you’re not doing the same thing or at the same age doesn’t mean you’re failing.

Take me for example; 31, unmarried with 2 step children (never was that the plan, I can tell you!) Then I look at two of my friends; both married to military men, both at similar life stages, but totally different ages.

The first couple are mid-twenties, married, bought a house, have the most beautiful dog and now a newborn. The perfect life, right?!

The second is one of my closest friends, 39, step-mum to her husband’s daughter and now expecting their first baby together! They married earlier this year – the wedding I mentioned in my ‘Loss’ blog post and I couldn’t be happier for them!

I use these two friends as examples because we are all guilty of comparing ourselves to others, me included. Judging our successes by what we think we should be doing. My point here is, whether you’re 26 or 39, there’s no ‘right’ age.

Secondly, only you know what’s right for you!

Pressures will always be there; whether it’s pressure to get a ‘good job’ or to find a nice partner, or even provide your parents with grandchildren.

If I had a pound for every time my Mum asked me when she’s going to be a Nanny again, I could probably pay off the mortgage in one swift whack!

Does this concern me? Nope!

What about those nudges at weddings…? “You’re next!” or “Come on, I need a new hat!“.

We can then go to the other end of the scale, which I know a lot of military wives get. “Aren’t you too young to be getting married?!”

If it feels right for you then that’s all that matters! Society doesn’t need an opinion on our lives and how we live them.

A ‘responsible’ adult, ‘adulting’?

According to various informal definitions, ‘adulting’ is the actions characteristic of someone responsible. Scary hey?!

The word ‘adulting’ is often miused (if a made up word can be so) and is used to describe mundane but necessary tasks like cooking or cleaning, as being ‘adulting’. Being a responsible adult is a very different thing, or at least it is in my view.

I certainly hadn’t felt much like a responsible adult for the most part of my twenties – despite leaving home at 18. By my mid-twenties, I had lived alone, been to uni, had various jobs; yet I still didn’t feel like I was an adult and definitely not ‘adulting’ – whatever that was!

So at 27 when I became a step-mum to 2 pre-teen girls. (Yes, that IS as bad as it sounds!) I didn’t think I was prepared for this life at all! Never, ever, did I think I would even consider this as a way of life!

I met my wonderful not-husband, ‘Mr S’ online (as many of us do these days) and had vowed not to date anyone with children (or an ex-wife).

Well I royally f****d that one up didn’t I?!

But everything happens for a reason, right?!

I wanted an easy life. One with potential to go somewhere. My head said, “Don’t go there!“, my heart said “Give it a chance!“.

I went there!

We saw each other a fair bit (when he wasn’t away on exercise or something more interesting!), we spent various weekends together on and off base, making the most of the time he was around.

After a while, I met his kids. I was bricking it if I’m honest! I really liked this guy but, “what if his kids hated me?” “What if they couldn’t accept their dad being with someone who wasn’t their mum?!”. The many scenarios went through my mind. How we’d have to end this whole thing, or keep our lives separate from the kids, or see one another in secret. I think I feared the rejection from them more than anything!

But, they were amazing and so accepting of me. They were just happy to see their dad happy for once and at 8 & 9, I thought that was very grown up of them too!

All was going well then 9 months in – Bang! Our first deployment arrived, ready to try and destroy us. Absolutely not! We were already incredibly strong and knew we’d make this work.

Summer 2016, I was handling a deployment, maintaining bonds with my not-husband’s kids and his parents, planning stuff for when Mr S returned, putting money aside for various things…Was THIS ‘adulting’?

I had doubted this relationship and its lifestyle from the start, but it was working! More than working, we were smashing it!

So how about now?!

By late 2016, we were into our second deployment (yep, another one straight after!) and we’d been looking to buy a house together. That’s pretty adult, right?

We’d looked at so many properties online and nothing was grabbing us, although we weren’t in a rush, we were craving our own space. I’d moved back with my parents to save some money and when not away, he was living on base. Whilst in Canada, Mr S sent me a link for a house and asked me to check it out. Long story short, we now live in it! (See deployment post for the full story)

Buying a house whilst he was deployed had its own problems, most notable – the time difference. He was 7 hours behind which meant any correspondence was an extra working day. By the time I’d spoken to him, the estate agent/solicitors/surveyors had closed for the day and so it continued.

Mr S was in a front line squadron so he was away A LOT, leaving me to handle home life alone.

When Mr S returned, we exchanged and moved in March 2017. Now here’s where life changed dramatically for me. I was now doing school runs Friday evenings and Monday mornings. I’d find myself cooking for three or four (as opposed to cereal for dinner), ironing uniforms or sat watching a school play without my not-husband. He’d be overseas and I’d be sat in an awful assembly wondering how my life got to this point?!

How much more adult can you get?! Surely THIS was adulting?

Yet I STILL doubt myself!

A couple of weeks back, I was holding ‘stuff’ (aka jumpers they refuse to wear, a rock they took a liking to in the car park and what was left of my sanity) whilst the kids took part in a Harry Potter broomstick ‘flying’ lesson, being told to ‘ooh‘ and ‘aah‘ by the crazy lady leading it!

“HOW ON EARTH DID I END UP HERE?!“

That was one of those moments where I questioned everything – just for a second! If you’d have asked me four years ago, if I’d be standing at a Harry Potter event (totally not my thing), ‘oohing and aahing’ at a fake flying lesson…I’d have told you not to be so ridiculous!

Being a step-mum was never something I planned for. I had no idea about being a parent, never mind being one to TWO hormonal pre-teen girls!

BUT! We’re now just a normal family, I don’t see them as ‘his kids’ (unless they’re channelling their inner tw*t, then they can be HIS!). They’re OUR kids and we do normal family stuff. Hearing the kids say to their friends, “this is my step-mum“, still freaks me out a bit, but I feel honoured to have been accepted into their lives so readily.

I question if I’m actually ‘adulting’, but I must be? I keep these teenagers alive, Mr S hasn’t left me for a more competent human and I haven’t burnt the house down…yet!

Statistics…do these show us as nation to be ‘adulting’?

If you take a look at the graphic here, the UK ranks slightly below the EU average for age to leave home. The statistic for men vs woman is aged 27.6 and 25.2 respectively. By that stat, I was way ahead as I left home at 18.

We could go one further and compare this to the 1960’s, where 62% of 18-34 year olds were living as married or co-habiting in their own home, compared to just 31% now. Of course many social and economic factors play a role but let’s not get too deep here.

Compare all this alongside ages for having children and we see more people now than ever aren’t having their first children until their thirties. In the early 1990’s, my Mum was horrified to be pregnant again (her 3rd, my brother) at the age of 30! She felt people would think “she should know better!” for being an ‘older’ mother.

But how normal is it now, that my friend at 39 is having her first. Society is fluid and opinions change over time. It is no longer seen as ‘older mother’ past 30, more ‘the norm’ (since writing this, I became a mother at 32). Just because society suggests one opinion right now, doesn’t mean it will stay that way!

What makes you feel like an adult? Do you feel like you’ve nailed the art of ‘adulting’? Are you expecting a baby but don’t feel like a ‘real grown-up’ yet? I’d love to hear from you!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I’ve seen many articles about the origins of a name but I want to explore the ‘tradition’ of women taking their husband’s surname after marriage.

With changing times, has it lost its favour? Is it still as important and is it acceptable for a man to take his wife’s name instead?

For me, it’s been a topic of much debate with my own not-husband on many occasions. He is a very traditional man, proud of his male lineage and believes strongly in passing down his family name.

Unfortunately, I too am proud of my surname and hate the idea of losing it! Luckily we aren’t planning to get hitched so it’s not an issue (and the name of this blog is safe), but that doesn’t stop us discussing it hypothetically now does it?

But why the dilemma?

My surname is unique! I am the only person with MY name and I love that!

My surname is in fact double-barrelled (no, I’m not posh) I just have two names as one. They’re both unusual so there are no other families with that combination. Only my brother and mother share it with me.

My parent’s decision to hyphenate my surname was due to their own situation; not through inherited wealth or nobility, as once would have been the case.

My parents were unmarried and chose to give their children both surnames, rather than choose between one or the other. It wasn’t until my parents married (due to Dad’s terminal illness) in November 2018, that my mum joined my younger brother and I, in sharing our surname. My mum too lost her father at a young age, so retaining his name was important to her also.

My older brother however, has only our Mum’s surname, as he’s the last male carrying that name down the line. If he’s does not have children (presumably passing down the name) then that name ends with him. Even more reason for me to keep mine, right?!

“Four Names?!”

Triple and quadruple barrelled surnames are pretty rare but they do exist. Ex-army officer and now Dorset MP, Richard Drax is actually the holder of four surnames. His full name is Richard Grosvenor Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax. You can see why he drops the other three for official business!

His name developed over the years, right back as far as the 1500’s, passed down through the inheritance of the Charborough Estate in Dorset, South West England.

In fact ‘Drax’, the name the MP now uses, did not come into play until the 1700’s, when a man named Thomas Shatterden took his wife’s name (yes, this isn’t something new!) after she became heiress of Charborough House.

In those days, men would see no problem in taking the name of his wife, as social class out-ranked gender. And in fact entire families would adopt the name of the estate they were marrying into, to improve status.

So why is it seen as a negative thing in our modern world if a man takes his wife’s name? Men who do so are sometimes perceived as ‘passive’ or ‘more feminine‘. It is estimated that only around 3% of men are taking their wife’s name after marriage. Perhaps some don’t know it’s even an option?!

On a side note, I’ve visited the Charborough Estate – Highwood Gardens, on a charity open day for SSAFA, if you get the chance, go have a peak, especially when the bluebells are out! The photo for The Not Wife Life was taken there. It’s a beautiful sight!

But what are the options for a new name?

So back to names and this brings me to the situation where a person with a double barreled surname, meets someone who already has two names (or four!). What happens then? As we’ve discussed, having multiple barreled names is an option but doesn’t that just complicate life?

Or what about people like myself who were given a hyphenated surname at birth, rather than choosing to use one after marriage?

Deed Poll suggests there’s no limit on how many names a person can have, however; most official documents such as your passport or driving licence only allow up to 30 characters. Now mine is already 24 characters including the hyphen, so if I were to add my not-husband’s surname too, I’d be using 32! Nightmare! (Besides, it’d sound crap anyway, sorry darling!)

It would simply become an official nod to my husband and not used day to day, so what would be the purpose?

Some countries recognise common-law ‘marriages’; namely Canada and around half of the states in America. This is usually a couple who have lived together for more than one year and present themselves publicly as husband and wife.

In Canada, for federal purposes such as obtaining a passport, either spouse can assume the surname of the other, if in a legally recognised common law relationship. Couples can then pick a name without the pressures of traditional post-marriage name etiquette.

But how do you choose?!

Sadly for my not-husband, I’m all for women retaining their maiden name (much to his disgust!) or using a double surname to acknowledge both sides.

Some people turn one surname into a middle name, but again for me, it just wouldn’t sound right. Others create an entirely new surname, made by combining their two names. Whereas, some with existing doubles drop one name and double the other with their new surname.

But which do you drop?! Which is deemed less important? How do people choose?!

Take me for example. My mother’s surname is first, my father’s is second, coupled with a hyphen (hyphens look like – that, not an apostrophe ‘ or a comma, or anything else…I’ve had them all!).

As I said earlier, my Mum’s surname ends with my older brother as she is an only child and female. Yet my brother may not continue the name (sadly) which would make it more important for me to keep the first part of my name.

However;

It’s not that simple! The second half of my surname is that of my father, who I sadly lost only a few months ago (You can read about my journey through grief here) So for me, retaining that in honour of my wonderful and amazing Dad is crucial. I hold no loving ties to his side of the family so it’s purely the link to my Dad that counts. If he was still with us, would I consider dropping his name…maybe!

Sorry darling not-husband, looks like I’d be sticking with mine and you’d be sticking with yours. Which of course is not unusual in married couples; some women continue to use their maiden name for work purposes. Particularly in the case of professionals such as doctors or teachers who may have been widely known by that name prior to marriage.

Where did surnames come from?

In England, the adopting of surnames began in the 9th century under the English Common Law, ‘doctrine of coverture‘. In this, women lacked independent legal identity from their husband. Women were regarded as ‘property’, passed from father to husband.

Names in general originated from simply identifying the difference between one person and another, or the place they lived. For example, Baker, Butcher, Smith, Hill or Green. John (the) Baker was then easily distinguishable from John (the) Butcher.

The UWE completed a four year study on the origins of names (11-19th century) and found most of England were using surnames by the 15th century, but it was King Henry VIII that ordered martial births to be recorded by father’s surnames.

Traditions

I think it’s fair to say that some women have continued taking their husband’s surnames as ‘it’s tradition’. But what about other traditional aspects? There are many patriarchal marital traditions, such as ‘giving away the bride’ or even before that, by asking the father’s permission to marry. Are these things are still important within the Western culture, are they losing popularity too, or are they just not as widely acknowledged?

There are of course situations – like mine – where Dads aren’t around to fulfill those traditions. Some women chose to have their mother or perhaps grandfather walk them down the aisle, or like my Mum – her eldest son.

Historically, when fathers weren’t around and a child needed naming, the women would use the less common matronymic form of creating a surname. This means using a name derived from the mother or another female ancestor, just as you would patronymically (eg: Williamson – son of William). For women it is slightly different, for example; Emmett comes from the female name Emma, or Madison from the name Maud.

Confusion!

So, with names having so many origins and meanings, what do they ACTUALLY mean?

Names can symbolise wealth, connections or a new union. They may even hold a sense of pride, belonging, or a link to family heritage. My not-husband for example, has a surname of Irish decent – which itself has been modified from its original form. So if I were to take his surname, people may assume I am of Irish decent which would be untrue. It has no connection for me, other than being with someone who has a link to Ireland from a couple of generations ago.

Here I want to throw in another curve ball! What about a name change without a marriage? A friend of mine changed her surname to that of her long-term partner after many years living together. They had agreed they would never marry, but wanted some kind of union and a name change was it. Everything remains separate and there would be no messy legal stuff if things don’t work out. She’d probably just revert back to her original surname. Simple?!

Other unmarried couples I know have come to blows over baby’s name. Whose surname should be chosen? Some people believe the father gives the child his name as a way of forming a connection, as the mother formed her bond whilst carrying the child.

Some mothers with children from previous relationships choose to keep their maiden name when remarrying, so that the older child is not left with the odd name out.

In my house, I am the odd one out. My not-husband and his two children have their surname and I have my own. If we were to have a child, my not-husband is adamant s/he would take his surname, so I would still be greatly outnumbered!

So what do you think?

It still seems like the burden is on the woman to change her surname after marriage. Nugent (2010) wrote a paper on surnames (specifically the predominance of using the father’s surname) and called it a ‘Moral Dilemma’. She concluded the female had a moral dilemma of self vs family. The paper also suggested that a woman keeping her birth surname was selfish and antagonistic towards her family.

I disagree here! I believe we should all have the freedom to choose, whether we are male or female. This is highlighted of course in same-sex relationships! Why should your gender determine your surname?

Let me know what you think. I could go on all day, exploring different countries, cultures and traditions but you’d lose interest and this post would be even longer than it already is!

Have you kept your surname? Are you a man who took your wife’s surname? Are you a same-sex couple and married? Whose surname did you choose? Get in touch, I’d love to hear your stories

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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Urgh! Sunday evening and he’s leaving…AGAIN! Weekending sucks! How many of you can relate?

My wonderful not-husband leaves somewhere between 1800-1930 every Sunday, either to pick up others or be picked up. He’s working 180 miles from home during the week and travelling a good 4 hours (if he’s lucky) back each Friday to be with us. (aka weekending)

Why? Because the Army says so! Luckily only April – July for us, I know some of you do this long-term and I take my hat off to you!

Walking into a quiet, empty house, looking at the chaos in the kitchen after yet another rushed dinner. That sinking feeling knowing you’re eating and sleeping alone for the next week.

It isn’t all bad though…

Weekending means although I’m sleeping alone, there’s plenty of space and no one to steal the quilt from me! Amazing!

TV? Yep, that’s mine too, to watch whatever I feel like, at whatever time. I don’t watch a lot but when I do, it’s either as a form of escapism or it’s a knowledgeable programme where I learn something new. I’m fascinated by the mind, the decisions people make and the way they behave (my not-husband thinks I’m weird!) so anything about that, I’ll sit and watch to learn more.

Food…well, that’s good and bad. When he’s away, I see no issue with cereal for dinner at 9pm! Come on, I’m not the only one, admit it?!

I have no timings to keep to, I don’t need to cook a big meal, I just need to survive! I see the flexibility as a positive, yet I know I’m not eating properly during the week, so I suppose that’s a negative.

Cooking…I hate cooking! My lovely not-husband is the cook in this house and he enjoys it so it’s a bonus when he’s home. For now, I eat to live and will attempt to amend this soon…maybe!

Weekending = Choices

Weeks where he is picked up by other guys heading the same direction, I get both cars. Sweet! Which one I drive during that week all depends on which one has the most fuel in.

Obviously it’s his!

I’m a life on the edge kinda person, rolling into the petrol station on 0 miles, wondering if I can make it to the next fuel opportunity a mile or three down the road! Who’s with me?

Contrasting lifestyles

What’s hard about this weekending lark though, is the completely contrasting lifestyles I have! (No wonder I have a crazy brain!)

I live life as a single person Monday to Friday, I have no one else in the house to consider, I have no one to organise or get things ready for. I have no one to make any extra mess; the mess that appears is mine and mine alone. If I go out, I have no one to tell, I have no timing to get back to…after all, if I want cereal at 9pm, that’s cool remember!

So when the weekend arrives and I suddenly have three other people to think about, life is very different!

I’ve got to actually plan things like dinner that evening, because opening the freezer to see what falls out isn’t acceptable when you’ve got kids to feed. I have to make sure timings are met, like picking them up from school or getting them into bed.

I’ve suddenly got three people’s worth of washing to do and the dishwasher is now running daily, instead of weekly. I have two people not listening to me and one telling me how to do the things I do every single day without an issue! Argh! Where’s the wine?!

Don’t get me wrong…

We are just like any other family, we do have fantastic days out and precious family time making memories. We laugh, we joke, we relax and we enjoy the company.

On the weekends we don’t have the kids, they can go either way! Some (most) weekends, we have errands to run and jobs to do. The things that become difficult when the kids are around or that’re just easier without them. Like finding and fixing a part for our motorhome, picking up a new washing machine or working on the house.

Others we choose not to do anything other than have ‘us time’ because that’s important to us. We eat every meal together, we sit and chat, we watch a series we like. We have days out, we visit a place we both want to go and just enjoy having the other one there, or perhaps we sit and eat lunch in a beautiful place, whilst we catch up on the weeks events.

Giving time to your relationship

Having ‘us time’ is so important to maintaining a solid relationship when you live with all that military life throws at you. You have to put in the extra time to make sure you stay connected.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who worries about disconnecting. I worry that I’m getting too used to living alone, that I’m enjoying my own company more than I should. I fear the old me will creep back in; the me who thinks I don’t need anyone else, that I’m totally independent and don’t need help, comfort or support.

I wonder if when my not-husband is home for good, he’ll just annoy me, ruin my routine and get in the way. I worry that having him around will be too much and we will begin to grate on one another.

Well of course that’s just not true.

We have an incredibly solid foundation and cherish the time we spend together! He’s my best friend and I can’t wait to have him home every day! (Well almost every day, he is still bound by the army, of course)

We all need someone and sometimes we have to accept that we can’t do things alone. Whether that’s having support from a parent, your neighbour, an old friend or your husband.

Reflection

So as amazing as my weekends can be and how much I love my not-husband and the kids, weekend life can become super stressful, literally overnight!

I don’t feel guilty for admitting this because it’s all true, I struggle sometimes to adjust between living alone to living as a family of four. I sometimes struggle to cope with having two almost (they’re 12 and 13!) stroppy teenagers in the house, answering back and being far from helpful.

But equally I struggle to cope being alone sometimes. I just want someone else there to take the strain. Someone to cuddle up to after a rubbish day. I just want someone else to feed the dogs for once! The little things that make life easier.

Now I know “people have it far worse than you”, and yes that is true. I’m sure there are single mums who cope with more than I do. There are people like my mum, grieving the loss of her husband who will never return. But that doesn’t mean I can’t flow with the ups and downs.

This is MY NORMAL!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I’ve been seeing my wonderful counsellor for just over a year now and I always wish I’d started sooner! Years of anxiety and feeling ‘just not right’, turned out to be the consequence of burying emotions and never processing or voicing how I really felt.

Even as a kid, I never showed when I was upset by something; I kept everything to myself and would continue like nothing was ever happening. BIG MISTAKE!

As a young adult, I experienced the relationships that perhaps didn’t go to plan, people who hurt me, people who didn’t care like I did… It all adds up!

Fast forward to the age of 29 and I met my counsellor, let’s call her ‘Petunia‘. My wonderful not-husband was due to deploy again and I was struggling with bouts of depression and crippling anxiety. I knew I had to sort something out before he left.

Time to change

I went along to my first session, nervous and apprehensive, not knowing what on earth to expect. Petunia instantly put me at ease with her kind and calm approach. We had a cupa and chatted about why I was there.

My reasons were varied but mainly I was fed up of feeling so low and I’d had enough of panic attacks, nausea and the constant worry. It was a couple of months off my birthday and I was determined to ‘be better’ in my thirties.

“Surely I should be able to cope with life by now?” (said almost every adult, ever!)

So Petunia and I spent our first session exploring my history of how I came to be in her room; we identified several boxes of shit I’d pushed into a cupboard inside my head and we knew this would be a long process!

Why am I crying?! How is this normal?!

To begin with we opted for weekly sessions as I definitely had a lot of decluttering to do! We talked about all sorts; she unearthed things I didn’t know I cared about! She’d have me in absolute tears sometimes, crying over things I thought had gone from my mind… how?!

Take my previous relationship, for instance – the one before my amazing not-husband – that had ended some 5 years ago. It was over a long time before it was over too, if you know the type of relationship I mean; I hadn’t given it a thought in years!

Well Petunia knows just the right buttons to press. I cried. Hard!

Wtf?

Why was I crying?!

I didn’t care about that stuff any more…???

Petunia had opened a wound. One I’d locked away nicely in a box, packed into a cupboard and secured with a gigantic bolt on the door! She’d opened it and it was all falling out! I’d suppressed all the emotions relating to that person, the relationship, and the way it had ended. I couldn’t even tell her his name!

Revealing hidden emotions

So there I was, balling my eyes out over something five years ago, telling Petunia I was over it, when in fact, I hadn’t dealt with any of those emotions until that point. Here they were surfacing, bringing up feelings I’d fought so hard to crush the first time around!

We went back further… Petunia poked at old wounds to see if they’d bleed and most did! I found myself experiencing emotions I never knew were inside!

This was bizarre, how could someone I barely know provoke such reactions from me?

I wasn’t the sort of person to ever cry (unless it involved an animal!) but Petunia had me crying nearly every session to begin with, AND in between them.

I wondered what had happened to me. I was always so strong and hid my emotions from everyone.

Turns out that’s a really bad idea!

There is only so much cupboard space in your mind and if you keep filling it, there’s no room for anything else. So this is where I was at!

Decluttering the past

As we began to unpack the past, I started to feel lighter, truly over the things that had hurt me before. I was no longer carrying those boxes, weighing me down.

My wonderful not-husband was thousands of miles away and I felt strong (actually strong this time). We talked when we could, which sometimes wasn’t very often – as with any deployment – but every little conversation was precious. When we got a chance to talk for a little longer, I shared with him snippets of my counselling sessions, just so he wasn’t feeling left behind in my journey.

I was feeling good!

I was feeling able to take on anything that life could throw at me. Then BANG!

Devastation!

Two months into deployment, my Dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness. My world was blown apart and my best friend was days away and hard to contact. Thank my lucky stars for Petunia!

I was able to voice how I felt, offload how crazy I was feeling, tell her my frustrations of my not-husband being away from me when I needed him the most! Petunia kept me from going under. Still very low at times and the anxiety had ramped up again, but I felt I could tread water just long enough to get through the last month of deployment.

I was physically and emotionally exhausted, visiting the hospital daily – which was an hours drive on a good day! The house standards were slipping as I just didn’t have the energy to deal with that too.

I was struggling without my amazing not-husband to take some of the strain. He was over there feeling guilty that he couldn’t support me fully, but believe me, he was supporting me way more than he knew.

Normal?

My not-husband returned (eventually – never trust a home coming date, they never go to plan!) and home life settled into some kind of normal again. The blue jobs were being done and I had someone to share the hospital trips with.

As the months went by, Petunia introduced me to the notion of anticipatory grief. Something I never knew about but is absolutely normal! You can read more about the process in my previous article, but simply put, it’s grieving the loss of a loved one before their death.

I had no idea that what I was experiencing was completely normal. No one ever talks about it, but when Petunia explained it all, I felt relatively ‘normal’. However, I was still struggling to understand what ‘normal’ was!

The New Me

Fast forward again and I felt like a new person! The shy, quiet, unconfident person I was before was owning life. At Dad’s send-off, I stood up at the front (with a microphone!) and read out 8 minutes worth of something I had written. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing it! Who was this person?!

I had organised most of the send-off and hosted the ‘after-party’ for over 30 people. I was confident, balanced and being the real me! Someone I’d not been in years!

And why? Because Petunia had taught me to just be myself! Not to care about what others thought, not to worry about what I can’t change, to just do what I felt right in my heart. I’d let go of all the dusty boxes packed away in my attic and had room for all kinds of new possibilities.

I had dealt with losing my incredible Dad on a daily basis, rather than pushing it to the back of my mind and hoping it’d go away. (it doesn’t) If I felt something, I’d say it: if I needed to cry, I’d let it out without worrying I looked silly or feeling guilty for it.

I felt good!!

I decided to keep my monthly sessions going, just to make sure I was doing okay and that brings us to today’s session. Petunia and I met, we did our usual catch up of events over a brew and she explored all avenues of my mind.

We talked about the ups and downs of grief – how one day you can be happy and the next you just can’t hold back the tears. She told me how normal and natural this is and I believed her.

We discussed the minefield that are the female hormones and the effect they can have on the mind. I had explained to Petunia how one week I can hold one opinion/mindset and two weeks later I can think the complete opposite! This too, she tells me is absolutely the norm. Who knew?!

But how do I know which to believe?!

My mind fuelled by hormones is screaming one thing one week and something else the next! One week something will irritate the life out if me, but the next I might not even notice it! How can that be a normal process? How do I cope with those contrasts?!

Do I just see which thoughts scream the loudest and go with that?!

Nope, Petunia tells me these are the things to discuss with my amazing not-husband. Because if the past has taught me anything, it’s that NOT sharing problems is where the issues actually start. I could talk to anyone, but the person I spend my life with is the only person sharing the experiences with me so closely.

So here I am, waiting for my not-husband to return on Friday, because whilst video calls are great, they’re not ideal. Some conversations need to be in person.

Life is a roller-coaster!

Everyone has their own issues, whatever they may be and their own ways of coping, which may be unique to them. But the one common denominator is that we’re all normal.

We’re all struggling with something, some more than others, some more serious, some more painful, but we’re all just ‘normal’. Life has its ups and downs and we just flow with it, coping in whatever way we can!

I still have my bad days, seeing a counsellor didn’t ‘cure’ me; I have horrendous days sometimes! In fact, I hate the person I am in those times and I fight hard to dig my way back out. Peaks and troughs are a normal part of life, so don’t lose heart if you dip back down again – remember that’s all part of being ‘normal’.

But for the first time in my adult life, during that session, I felt ‘normal’! I understood that my ‘crazy brain’ isn’t actually crazy and that the doubts I have, the worries, the internal conflicts, are all

COMPLETELY

NORMAL!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I wanted to share a little of my journey through grief with you. Why?! Because I wish I’d have understood more about the grieving process before it started. Before I experienced the loss!

Losing my amazing Dad has been the toughest, most self-defining time of my life. It made me question everything, it changed my view on life and it pushed me to confront fears I never knew I had.

The Beginning

We never saw it coming!

June 2018, Father’s Day. Little did we know, it’d be our last!

My Dad and I shared that day in a hospital observations ward. He’d had back pain for quite some time but this was something new. An odd lack of sensation had occurred. He couldn’t feel a rough towel on his legs like he normally could. After days of tests and scans, we got it. That dreaded diagnosis.

After months of pain and discomfort, we now knew why. Dad was told he had suspected Metastatic Renal Cell Carcinoma which had spread to his bones. His spine was full of lesions (cancerous cells), which had caused the discs to fracture, hence the pain! Then there was his age…he had only just turned 60 a month earlier!

World blown apart! And where was my darling not-husband during all of this? Well, deployed of course, these things don’t happen when they’re home! He’d already missed Dad’s surprise party in May and was not due back for another month!

Now what?!

A transfer to another hospital for immediate radiotherapy then back to the first to start chemotherapy. And so it began…

Anticipatory Grief

Something nobody talks about! Everyone assumes grief only occurs when someone has passed away…wrong!

Anticipatory grief is completely normal! Who knew?!

What is Anticipatory Grief?

Grief as we know it begins when a loved one passes away, however; anticipatory grief occurs much earlier – but can be just as powerful – whilst the person is still living. The person living with the illness can also experience this type of grief, as they lose the individual they once were.

Anticipatory grief pretty much means mourning the loss of the person that once was and the lifestyle they had.

Some people who experience this may feel more prepared for the loss, or the person with the illness may feel ready to ‘let go’. Whilst others will start the grieving process all over again once the death has actually occurred. There is no right or wrong way to grieve for a loved one.

The well known model by Kübler-Ross, suggests there are 5 stages of grief and that we can experience any or all stages, at any time during the grieving process.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

All of these stages can include various symptoms of anticipatory grief, both emotional and physical. Sadness, anxiety, fatigue, forgetfulness, fear, muscle tension, guilt, regret, headaches and loneliness, just to name a few.

For me, I was plagued with viral infections; coughs and colds that would usually disappear after a week. A combination of poor diet from meals on the go, sleepless nights and anxious nausea, made remaining healthy myself, so much harder.

Change!

When someone so close is diagnosed with a terminal illness, everything changes! Every thought you have becomes influenced. You consider things you’ve never once given a thought to before.

Depending on the type of illness your loved one has, many changes can occur in them too. Whether it be memory problems, mobility issues or losing their independence, all of these things have an impact. Sometimes it may not be the illness that causes the symptoms, but the medications themselves.

Dad was on morphine based medications for over a year and by the end was taking incredibly high doses. Opioid based pain relief have so many side effects I won’t even begin to start listing them. But that amount of drug is enough to change anyone’s personality!

Watching that person you love deteriorate in front of you is devastating! You feel sad for the times you can no longer share. You feel angry at the things they’ll miss out on but you also feel honoured to be able to care for them. Every emotion possible passes through your mind.

Back and Forth

Treatment began and hospitals became our daily routine. We were all exhausted! Restlessness sets in as you spend hour after hour staring at the same four walls. A combination of radiotherapy sessions and chemotherapy drugs was making Dad feel rotten. The sickness only caused more pain for his back and with each day that passed, he was losing more feeling from his ribs down!

This way happening quickly! Far quicker than any of us ever imagined!

We fluctuated between stages of grief. Anger, to denial, to bargaining and back again. We’d try anything to make this stop! Dad would agree to start eating healthier on one day, then ask, “what’s the point?”, the next.

By mid July, my wonderful not-husband was due back from deployment and it could not be more welcome! He’d left in April and all was well. By June he was face-timing Dad in hospital and being told off for making him laugh…because laughing with a broken back hurts!

Dad was back home when my not-husband returned. Now visiting consultants and Dr’s almost weekly and using crutches and a zimmer frame to get around the house. A big change from April when Dad was building himself a new shed from scratch!

August and September came and went. Dad lost more mobility week after week. He was now sleeping downstairs and with no hope of surgery or a cure, Dad refused any further treatment!

A devastating blow for the family but we had to respect Dad’s decision…no matter how hard that was to accept!

Had he reached the acceptance stage already, or was this the depression stage? Was he giving up on life?

Entering The Unknown

October arrived and Dad was feeling somewhat brighter without all the cancer drugs and injections. He and my brother had already postponed a road-trip across Europe, so it was now or never!

They spent a week driving through France, Germany and Austria, visiting all kinds of places along the way. Dad was really struggling with sitting in the Motorhome for so many hours at a time and was having trouble getting in and out, so they returned a day early.

November was looking bleak. Dad had been off all treatment for a month now and told he could deteriorate rapidly without the drugs. No real prognosis could be given as we didn’t know how aggressive it was. Hoping for the best was now our only option…

Like us, Mum and Dad were also ‘not-husband’ and ‘not-wife’, so after more than three decades together, this was another ‘now or never’ moment.

We applied for and were granted a waiver for the usual 30 days notice of marriage and with Dad now being fully wheelchair dependent, we had a sit down ceremony too. With just three weeks of planning, we managed to pull off the most magical day! A memory treasured by us all!

They were now husband and wife!

Is This It?! Is our loss imminent?!

Christmas wasn’t exactly a time of celebration as you can imagine. You begin thinking about the next one, where you know Dad won’t be there! The depression sets in for everyone. You wonder how life can ever be normal again?! The anger fills you with hate of how unfair this all is! The denial…because he’s my strong, powerful Dad, this can’t possibly happen to him!

Now almost completely bed-bound, Dad had pressure sores developing and infections hitting him from all directions. His immune system had been destroyed by the chemotherapy and radiation and the pain was unbearable. Admissions to hospital came for December; allowed home on Christmas Eve through compassion, returning on New Year’s Day.

January came with a different kind of admission. This time to a hospice. We thought, “this is it”. No one comes back out of a hospice…do they?! A syringe driver was put in and the reality is, that meant, ‘end of life’ drugs. Another devastating blow with reality hitting us in the face!

We thought, “He’s not going to see February”.

The anticipatory grief kicks back in. You start questioning everything! “Have we done enough?”, “Should we have sought a second opinion at the start?”, “Why didn’t we notice earlier?”, “Perhaps it’s been misdiagnosed?”, “Why Dad? He’s a good man.”, “What’s the point of all this?”

“How can this be it for a once fit, strong, healthy Dad, Grandad and Husband?”

Then the images of the future appear. You begin to see the things Dad will miss out on and you cry.

The Confusion

Now, I’m happy being a not-wife and have no plans to marry my not-husband any time soon, but February brought thoughts I never imagined would come. We attended a beautiful wedding which saw one of my closest friends tie the knot with her army man…being walked down the aisle by her father.

Oh the emotions! Whilst I was incredibly happy for our friends, it stirred emotions inside of me that I never knew I had. It was the “my Dad will never be able to do that” thought and that broke me. It hurt…but why, I’m not having a wedding…it just didn’t make sense!

I managed to hold it together right up until the reception, when I watched the bridesmaid dance with her father. It hit me all over again! The tears broke through and I had to get some air.

Life as we knew it…

After two weeks, Dad did leave the hospice and requested everything be managed at home. He signed a DNAR form which expressed his wishes not to be resuscitated and now had a hospital bed in the lounge. That form was Dad’s acceptance stage, he knew this was it and did not want to prolong the inevitable.

We were into the “any day now” mindset. Dad would spend a lot of the time ‘out of it’. With so much diamorphine, he was confused, hallucinating, vomitting, drowsy…the list is endless. He required 24 hour care and to begin with, we had no care package in place. Mum, my brothers and I were exhausted, both mentally and physically.

My own life was on hold, I wasn’t taking as good care of myself as I should have been and my housework was piling up. My sinus infection and bad chest had not cleared up, I was feeling awful every day, only for the Dr to tell me, “you just need to rest!”. HOW?!

Being self-employed, I’d given up a lot of my clients to free up more time to spend with Dad. It had become about quality rather than quantity and both were dwindling fast! Not working, coupled with daily pharmacy trips and visits to see Dad was taking its own kind of toll, financially.

By now, my not-husband was away again, but this time on exercise in the UK. He’d driven himself separately so that he could return home at a moments notice, without having to mess up anyone else’s day. Once that was complete, he was home again for a few weeks before we started ‘weekending‘. The timing sucked, but you don’t get to choose these things when you’re in the military. So we carried on the best we could.

Mum had asked if I wanted to be there when ‘it’ happened. I said yes!

The False Alarms

We started to think, “he’s definitely not going to make it to March”.

Mum had called me late one night to say, “I think this is it, you need to be here”.

So I drove over, preparing myself to say goodbye to my beautiful, kind-hearted Dad. We sat by his bedside for hours, comforting, reassuring and soothing him. He seemed to pull back from the edge and settle down.

He’s going to be okay for a little while longer…phew!

Then it happened again mid-March, the phone call of doom, I mentally prepared myself. I arrived to see Dad breathing very shallow and think, “tonight’s the night”.

Wrong again! Just a chest infection. A course of anti-biotics and Dad was back chatting, sitting in his chair and discussing engineering programmes on TV with my wonderful not-husband. How?! My Dad was so strong, he was defying the laws of medicine.

The ‘Crazy Brain’

“Well, he can’t possibly see April…can he?!” My emotions were shot to pieces, up and down like a yo-yo, constantly preparing myself to say goodbye. Preparing for that loss.

Every time I left, I’d wonder if that would be my last goodbye. “Did I remember to say, “I love you”? Did I give him a kiss? Had I hugged him tight enough?”

Every time my phone made a noise, the panic would set in, the fear would fill my mind.” Would this be the call to tell me my Dad has died?”

Nothing is the same.

I am not the same.

I don’t feel like ‘me’ any more. I’m struggling to stay afloat. Picking up medications every single day, because he’s on such high doses they can’t dispense any extra. I just want to sleep, but I can’t sleep for the worry in my mind. The uncertainty, the anticipation and angst of just not knowing! I’ve entered survival mode, I do whatever it takes just to get through the day, often running on autopilot, supporting everyone else to make sure they have what they need, whilst ignoring my own.

I wonder if this new anxious, on edge, tearful yet numb me, is the new ‘me’? Feeling the guilt of no longer being ‘me’, I question how on earth my amazing not-husband could want to be with this ‘new me’?! I ponder why he’s sticking around for all of this? Then he reminds me how much he loves me AND my family and I feel a little brighter. But that doesn’t last long, I’ve become hyper alert, I can’t switch off, I’m organising things in my head, I’m not present in the moment. The constant thoughts about what comes next…

The Final Curtain

21st April, Easter Sunday, 2019

My not-husband and I had been on a rare afternoon out together. A beautiful walk around a forest and a lake. Tranquility and calm. Just perfect!

1800hrs – On our way home, we popped in to see Dad. He’d said he was feeling pretty awful but had another chest infection, so that was to be expected. All seemed well, we chatted about our day out and caught up with my Auntie who was visiting. We said goodbye, I said, “I love you”, I hugged him and I gave him a kiss.

That was the last time.

2256hrs – “I think you need to be here”. We’d been here before more than once and as we’d only seen Dad a few hours earlier we weren’t expecting it. We sorted ourselves out, settled the dogs and got in the car. They only live 4 minutes away, so we’ve always been on hand.

2315hrs – “You’re too late, he’s at peace now”.

How can this be possible?! How could it happen so quick? Why did I not know earlier? What if I’d have left quicker? Did he wait for me to not be there?

I could torture myself with these thoughts all day long but the truth is, ‘it wasn’t meant to be’.

My beautiful, kind, caring, intelligent, amazing Dad had gone. It was all over! The sorrow hit. The tears flowed. My heart broke for my dear Mum who’d lost her soul mate. How would she be able to carry on without him? How would any of us cope with this huge loss in our life?

Published on 20th May, in loving memory of my incredible Dad, who would have been 61 today!

The Not Wife

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Part Two – After The Loss – coming soon.

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You know, those weird ass, mostly nonsense thoughts you have sometimes, where you wonder if anyone else thinks these things…

Well I’m here to tell you they do!

It’s hard isn’t it?

Life!

Having entered the over 30’s category as an unmarried military spouse, I decided a blog might be a good idea (and now a podcast!)

I question everything and try to find my own logic through it. I figured if I write and just one person can relate (and feel a little more ‘normal‘) or learn something new, then my work here is done.

So who am I really? – Not just a military spouse!

Well, I’m no-one special. I live in a little village in the UK, ‘not married’ to a long-serving army man and have been for over five years now.

What I write isn’t fact, neither is it fiction, it is simply what I know, think and feel. Sharing my experiences with you in the hope you’ll relate; or at least have a new insight into the world of someone else.

I recently had a baby boy in a global pandemic (read about that here) which was pretty traumatic! (I’ll write about it when I feel strong enough to re-live it!) But he is amazing, so all is forgiven! He has two older sisters from my not-husband, and thankfully they love him very much…phew!

So what do I do when I’m not writing?

Well, I used to ‘workout’ twice a week at a military style (veteran owned) bootcamp and do things like walk Mount Snowdon just for fun. I loved to push my limits and really challenge myself fitness wise, but then a baby came along and all that had to stop (more about that here). Leaving your comfort zone now and then is great soul food and I can’t wait to get back to it!

I’m an animal lover with four dogs, yes – four! So you’ll probably find me out walking most days (which has been great during all of the UK Lockdowns). I crave the outdoors and particularly love the coast.

Professionally, I am part qualified as a counsellor, but Baby and a pandemic also put that on hold…so that’s ‘To Be Continued’. Although, I am qualified as a Mental Health First Aider with a focus on the Military Community.

I experience anxiety myself (notice I don’t use the word suffer!) and have had bouts of depression, but why should I let that hold me back from anything? The crazy thoughts are still there, I have just learnt to cope with them more easily. (Credit to my lovely counsellor – more about her another day!)

What else can I tell you?

Well, I’m fiercely independent! Not in a feminist way, I’ve just always wanted to do things for myself and not depend on anyone. (which is ironic as military spouses are known as ‘dependants’). But that isn’t always a good idea! There are times in life where we all need someone. Whether that’s your spouse, parent or a good friend, you need someone you can be your true self with.

I know this all too well, having ridden the emotional roller-coaster that was losing my amazing dad to a terminal illness. Read that one here.

So why am I The Not-Wife?

Well, the urban dictionary says,

“Your female partner, life partner, significant other who you are not married to but eternally committed to…“

Urban Dictionary

So I guess that’s the answer really. The commitment without the commitment? We live together, I am step-mum (urgh, that word!) to his two children, we now have a child together and we share everything as any married couple would.

Being in the military, everyone assumes you’re already married, which of course many are due to the demands of forces life. But I’ve been asked by welfare or at events like families day, “What’s your surname?” and that doesn’t work when you don’t have his name. What they’re actually asking is, who are you with or who are you linked to? (Click here to read my post about why women take their husband’s surname after marriage)

And why AREN’T we hitched?

Well, because he was scarred for life by the previous one! He’s quite rightfully fearful of another union since the first one ended badly. But he knows we’re not all the same! We are the best of friends, we never argue (we disagree, of course, but I just tell him he’s a dick wrong and we move on hehehe) and we have a ton of fun together.

So, until my wonderful not-husband is brave enough to commit again, I shall forever be his not-wife (which is a good thing because then I’d have to rename this entire blog!)

Whilst on our road trip to Scotland in our motorhome, we stopped at Gretna Green and added an engraved padlock to their ‘love lock’ sign. The engraving said ‘Not Husband & Not Wife’, with our names on the back.

Marriage Stats

What I find interesting though, is the divorce rate in the UK is at a 40 year low, with around 42% of marriages ending in divorce (in 2017 – stats aren’t updated that often apparently). Isn’t that still an incredibly high number?! Almost half of all marriages won’t work out?! Why is that?

What there aren’t statistics for, are long term, committed relationships – like the one I’m in – that end after years of a joint life. Do they last longer? Or do they just dissolve without anyone batting an eyelid?!

Although there are no official figures on second marriages and divorce rates, the Marriage Foundation suggests only 31% of second marriages ends in divorce. Which is good news right? Perhaps in your second marriage you learn to overcome issues more easily and make an extra effort to stay committed? Or is it that the first person wasn’t right for you or it happened a little too quickly. Or maybe too young? The possibilities are endless and every relationship is different, so how can we possibly conclude why second marriages are more successful?!

Military Life and Marriage

In my time as a military spouse, I am very aware that many forces relationships are dictated by the serving persons work life, which can sometimes lead to couples getting a shotgun wedding.

Now this doesn’t mean it is in any way rushed, it simply means that postings hours from home or overseas, deployments or training courses can often bring forward an already planned wedding. Some couples choose to have a simple signing of the register ceremony (the official bit) in order to be together sooner, with a bigger (not always) celebration and/or blessing at a more convenient time. Postings can dictate where you and your family will live and for how long, and that becomes a whole lot easier once you’ve signed that little book!

The military and us…

Loving someone who serves can be incredibly difficult at times, but it’s so worth it! We may spend three months or more apart due to a deployment, but that just makes every day we do spend together all the more precious!

For us, we bought our own house a few years ago, twenty minutes from camp and have settled in a place we both wanted to live. Luckily, we were at a point where we wouldn’t necessarily need to move anywhere (at least not for a while anyway) so it was an easy choice to make.

However; things do change (forces life is ALWAYS changing – learn to expect the unexpected!) and we ended up ‘weekending‘ in 2019.

Weekending? What’s that?

It just means the serving person is away during the week and only home at weekends.

Yes, it sucks!

That Sunday night “he’s leaving again” feeling, coupled with the Friday afternoon “shit, he’ll be back soon and the house is a tip” rush. EVERY WEEK! We were 180 miles apart, but thankfully it only lasted three months!

Weekending certainly has its own highs and lows, like any long distance relationship (more here). You still experience all that life has to throw at you; from love, to loss, to celebration and joy; you just have to learn to experience those things on your own.

Modern technology has of course made military life way easier and more bearable. Being able to see and talk to (when the connection actually works!) to someone the other side of the world is just amazing!! Sharing those moments helps you stay connected over the miles.

Over and Out

Well, that’s it from me,

Check out my Instagram for updates!

See you soon and stay strong whatever you’re going through!

Are you a fellow military spouse? What do you love or hate about military life? Are you living with someone but as of yet, unmarried? What contributed to your decision not to marry?

Head to my contact page and get in touch!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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The post So Who Am I? – The Unmarried Military Spouse appeared first on The Not Wife Life.