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

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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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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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The post Unexpectedly Expecting appeared first on The Not Wife Life.

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

The post Miscarriage: A Different Kind of Loss appeared first on The Not Wife Life.

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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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 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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