Baby Got Back

We were finally out of hospital...

...and we came home and got to work adapting to being a family of four. That and remembering how utterly knackering the newborn stage is - we waved goodbye to sleep and got to grips with being elbow deep in nappies and baby milk. Things ticked along pretty normally - Connor was still breathing pretty fast but we were told that he would continue to do so until he cleared the air from around his lung. Things were bone-achingly tiring but they were also 'normal' and we slowly got used to it.

Then everything changed. Connor developed a cough at four weeks of age but we put it down to the fact that we'd all also had a mild cough, I can't tell you how much I wish now that we'd been right about that. A few days after the cough started he then became very sleepy and stopped taking as much milk - for Connor that's a big deal as he's a large baby with an equally large appetite, so we started to think something was up. Luckily our very brilliant Health Visitor changed her plans the day we contacted her and came to check on him for us. When she arrived he was showing some little signs that he was struggling to breathe - she took one look at him and suggested we take him to A&E for review. 

Children's A&E was RAMMED. Like, only one parent allowed RAMMED. We eventually got seen and by then Connor was really struggling to maintain his oxygen levels. He was diagnosed with bronchiolitis, put on oxygen and a little feeding tube was placed down his nose. It was a total whirlwind, especially because I'd convinced myself on the drive in to the hospital that they'd laugh us out of A&E for wasting their time. I do have to say that despite how busy children's A&E was, as soon as they realised that Connor had the pneumothorax we were immediately prioritised and seen really quickly; I am so very grateful for that.

That was Tuesday. It's now Sunday and he's still in hospital. The level of stress is unreal. The viral swab that they took when he arrived came back that he has the common cold and a virus called RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus) - they're both pretty common but unfortunately in Connor it's spread to his lungs and caused the bronchiolitis. Viruses cannot be treated with antibiotics so they just have to manage the side effects which will then allow him to fight the viruses and hopefully start to recover, It's incredibly difficult to watch your tiny baby fight something that you cannot see and cannot fight for them.

That's where we are, waiting for improvement. He's not 100% better but at the same time he's not getting worse. So we wait. Because of the RSV and the fact that viruses are contagious we have been put into our own little cubicle. I can't quite bring myself to call it a side room as it's pretty much a cupboard with a sink.

• Cubicle pros - our own TV, being able to talk & sing to myself and know that no one thinks I'm a little bit on the weird side.
• Cubicle cons - it makes me think that I'm Harry Potter, if Harry Potter never got his Hogwarts letter and had a sick baby - basically it's quite small with no windows

Now we've become those parents, the kind of parents that the staff have come to recognise in the corridor because they've been there so long, There are many little head nods in greeting as I amble from my cubicle to the toilet & back and my name has now changed to become 'Connor's Mum'.

So we keep going, every time that he manages to maintain his oxygen levels for a little while, or he takes a little more milk at a feed, or he just opens his eyes and we can see that he's really realising we're there - it's all a little win and helps us to briefly & optimistically imagine the moment when he's well enough to come home and we can start to be a family again.

Final mention is our little Dylan, he is absolutely taking this all in his stride and we are impressed with how well he's coping. Every day he's carted off to someone else's house so that we can swap over at the hospital and every day he deals with the changes with minimal fuss. It sounds corny but he's our little ray of sunshine and we couldn't be more proud of him. 

That's all I have for now. Stay tuned for updates! Every fibre of my being hopes for some good news soon.

Love, Meg xx

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The Next Adventure

Hello again.

It's been quite a long time since I loaded up this blog hasn't it? To be perfectly honest I thought that it would be something that I would not update again, but seems that life has thrown me quite a few curve balls lately and I am going to use this as a place to write about that. It's mainly for self-preservation but if you'd like to come along for the ride then strap yourself in. 

Let's do this.

In my last blog post I'd just had my baby, Dylan. Well, Dylan has now transformed into the most hilarious, independent and gorgeus two-year-old ever - although I'm aware I'm pretty biased on that front. Where did my chunk of a baby go though? 

Here's the little monster in question:

As a small insight into Dylbert, his favourite words are currently "No", "Mine" and "Beebies" (for when he wants CBeebies on the TV) - so I think we've got this parenting thing sussed, right? Please note the sarcasm - I don't think anyone ever has parenting sussed, if they tell you that they do then they are a big fat liar. It's a bloody rollercoaster - you've just got to buckle yourself in, hold on tight and try not to get yourself covered in vomit. Or snot. Why is there so much snot?!?

With that in mind, Warren and I had a little chat and came to the conclusion that we really hate sleeping at night and seeing our friends whenever we want. So we decided to have another baby. After a few terrifying bumps in the road, we finally got pregnant and were well on our way to having baby number two.

I'll speed through the next bit for you - hospitalised at 24 weeks with possible pre-term labour (luckily false), regular scans as this baby was predicted to be a chunk (unluckily true) and then booked in for an induction at 38 weeks. I wish I'd also had the summary and not lived through that to be honest, pregnancy is so bloody anxiety inducing!

I also won't bore you/freak you out (delete as appropriate) with the labour and birth details. In summary it was another speedy labour and our baby boy, Connor, was born in the early hours of the 6th November. 

Here's the little grump:

I DIDN'T sustain another horrendous, can't-sit-down-ever tear or haemorrhage like I did with Dylan and I honestly thought we were home and dry.

But we weren't home and dry. Unfortunately Connor was the one that took the hit this time - I would honestly have given anything for it to have been me that suffered if I could have spared him just one second of discomfort. That's the thing about having babies, the Mum-guilt starts as soon as they're born and they place them onto your chest for a cuddle. If you haven't had a baby yet then just know that you have been warned on that one.

When he was born, he was purple and didn't cry. Paediatricians were bleeped, he was placed on the resuscitaire (if you haven't seen your baby on a resuscitaire then count yourself as one of the lucky ones) and they did everything that they could to make him cry. He didn't. As a result of that, he didn't inflate his lungs properly and couldn't maintain his oxygen levels. The decision was then made to take him to special care for 'a little while' for oxygen and observation. 

So off they went, with Warren also in tow. The Midwives also left shortly afterwards to complete all the paperwork and put the birth on the system. I have to say that the silence after they all left was deafening and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I don't really want to talk about that time but I will say that being on your own in an empty and silent delivery room when you should have your newborn baby in your arms is one of the worst things I've ever experienced. And, if you've read my previous posts, you'll know I've had my fair share of crappy experiences.

Connor, it turned out, wasn't in special care for 'a little while', he was there for five very long, very stressful days. The day after arriving he was diagnosed with a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) and was put onto a machine to provide oxygen and pressure to keep his lung open until he started to recover. I have to stop here just to say that the special care team are TRULY FANTASTIC. They were so friendly and explained everything as we went along, they also provided me with many kind words and tissues (so many tissues) when I had one of my multiple wobbles and messy cried AT them. From day one we knew he was in safe hands and they were just amazing, beautiful human beings. Not to get too political but they honestly aren't paid enough for all the work that they do.

Here's our little monkey getting his money's worth from the NHS:

After five days he was well enough to be discharged from special care to the ward and then a few days later (after being in hospital for a week) we were finally discharged home to begin our next adventure as a family of four. I honestly thought we were home and dry.

But we weren't home and dry.

Love, Meg xx

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Baby It's Covid Outside.

 Hello everyone!

If you're reading this then I just want to welcome you back to my blog, it's been a while hasn't it? I didn't write anything throughout the whole of 2020, which I think is perfectly understandable given what we all went through (and are still going through, unfortunately).

So, I'm still cancer free - which is bloody amazing - buuuuut I have had another life change in the shape of my gorgeous chunkarino called Dylan. Here he is:

- Just so you know I'm thinking a mix of "Holy crap, I'm now responsible for this person" and "I just pushed this out my body. I'm a flipping amazing human being."

This lovely boy was born 15th November 2020 and weighed a humungous 4.3kg (9lb 11oz in old money) and boy did I know about it. Skip the next paragraph if you're in any way squeamish as it's about to get TMI very fast. You have been warned.

I was induced at 41 weeks (1 week over my due date) as he was measuring big - in hindsight he'd been measuring big since 20 weeks but I saw a different doctor at every appointment so I never really got very much continuity. This isn't a moan about the NHS, they did an amazing job but were so stretched that at every appointment I had to inform them of my clinical history as it was always a new face. Luckily I saw an amazing Midwife at 40 weeks who was shocked when I waddled in still pregnant and referred me back to hospital ASAP. Two days later I was in to be induced and twelve hours after that he was born. THANK YOU AWESOME MIDWIFE - I can't remember your name (as I only met you that one time) but if I had been left another week he would have been even bigger and who knows what would have happened? This is the TMI bit but I already ended up with a postpartum haemorrhage and a third degreee tear - DO NOT GOOGLE EITHER OF THOSE THINGS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, just know that after a third degree tear you have to be on laxatives as "You won't be able to physically do that yourself until it heals". Yeah, that wasn't great. So who knows what else would have happened if I'd been left another week? I love him but he messed me up for a while, through no fault of his own.

Now, I want to talk about how we feed our babies. Most of you will have seen my Facebook rant about how FED IS BEST and no parent should be guilt tripped on how they choose to feed THEIR baby. I feel so strongly that I really want to start a campaign for better support for bottle feeding parents - most Midwives and Health Visitors are, quite frankly, amazing people who fully inform bottle feeding mothers on the ins and outs (e.g. sterilising bottles and making up feeds) but unfortunately, in my personal experience of postnatal care, I didn't meet very many of them.

For context, as a previous Midwife I went into this knowing the benefits of breastfeeding for mum and baby - with this in mind I was adamant that I was going to breastfeed. I didn't for one second entertain the idea of bottle feeding - before Dylan was born we didn't even buy bottles or a steriliser because that's how sure I was. Turns out, radiotherapy completely fries your tit(s), who knew eh? It's not commonly documented as most people fighting breast cancer are post-menopausal and don't care about feeding babies, but those radiowaves sure do fry those mammory glands good. As a result I was left with a very hungry 4.3kg baby and only one boob to do the business. I won't bore you with the details but cut to him not sleeping ever as he was genuinely ravenous and me having a breakdown after a week (I'm talking inconsolably messy crying and declaring I'm the worst Mum of all time), Warren quite nicely suggested the idea of giving him a bottle. It's mad that even when I did I felt absolutely horrendous, formula is the next best thing but we're always made to feel like it's poison aren't we? Well I'm here to say that IT'S BLOODY WELL NOT POISON. It doesn't matter how we feed our babies, as long as we fecking feed them and shower them with all the love they deserve.

Sweary paragraph alert - but fuck the "breast is best" crew. Don't get me wrong, breastfeeding is hard - if you're a breastfeeder then it's a heartfelt well done from me, you are genuinely bloody awesome and I take my hat off to you. Be proud. You're awesome. But if you're a bottle feeder then just know that you're amazing too. Being a parent has so many other challenges that whatever feeding road you choose to travel, we're all just doing the best we can.

I feel like I've probably ranted enough for now. Please enjoy this photo of my milk guzzler/sleep thief at two months old:

I have to say that having a baby in lockdown isn't the greatest, we're surviving by sending the family Whatsapp photos of our growing munchkin but it's not quite the same is it? Shoutout to my Mum for dropping dinners round to ensure that we actually eat vegetables but I can see that she's desperate to grab him for a cuddle every time she does. Basically this is a plea for everyone to adhere to the rules so that Dylan can actually meet his family. One day it'll happen.

If you're not a parent, kudos to you my friend! Please enjoy your life of uninterrupted sleep and not having to stress about every noise a tiny person makes. Are they sick? Should I call a doctor? Or have they just discovered a new noise that they can make? Are they hungry? Have they pooped? The eternal questions NEVER END. Just revel in the fact that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. But if you'd like to babysit my baby I'll happily let you, just so I can have THE LONGEST bath and drink ALL the wine. God I miss that.

That's me signing out for now.

Thanks for reading!

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

So it's been a while...

Oh, hi guys!

I last wrote a blog post in July 2018 - say whaaaat? I can't believe it's been that long - I guess the old saying is true and time does actually fly when you're having fun, right?! In view of this I thought I'd just write a little post to let you know that: 

I'M STILL FRICKING HERE.

That's right folks, I kicked Larry's butt and am continuing to do so. It's like I sent him on a round the world travelling trip and he's decided not to come back. Am I sad though? Am I heck. Stay away Larry, you life-stealing twonk.

The post-cancer life is not without it's drawbacks though, unfortunately; I am still a regular at the hospital anytime I have a 'twinge' (if they offered a loyalty card program then I'd definitely be one of the people with the most stamps), although I am hoping that this will change as time goes on and I learn to become less terrified and actually trust my body a little bit more. Time will tell on that one I guess. I have to say that I cannot fault the NHS though, they always fit me in and are always very nice to me - so ta very muchly St Albans hospital, you absolute bunch of wonders.

As I am writing this I have also realised that I probably need to address another change that has happened this year. So ladies and gentleman, please let me introduce the elephant in the room - this specific elephant has just happened to turn thirty a few weeks ago. That's right! The big 3-0.
Just so we're clear, that elephant is me (ha!) and I'm still waiting for my huge life-affirming 'epiphany' to rock up and slap me in the face. Currently I feel very much the same as I did when I was 29. Oh well.
It is a very weird feeling though, as society tells me that I'm supposed to be absolutely shocked and appalled that I've turned thirty; to be perfectly blunt I have to say that I'm genuinely still happy to be here. Every year is a huge f*** you to cancer - so bring it life, I'll take whatever you've got as long as I still get to be around. Morbid but true unfortunately. Here's a little joke (that I love) to cheer you all up though:

The other day I found a lion in hiding in my wardrobe, when I asked him what he was doing he told me it was "Narnia business".

Gettit? NARNIA BUSINESS!!! It's a good joke, no? You're welcome to use that one!

Speaking of turning thirty, I would also like to say a huge thank you to everyone that came to my party and for all the gifts and cards I received. I bloody love each and every one of you - thank you for making me feel like an absolute queen! If I make it to 40 then I probably will be a lot more civilised (HA!) and probably won't throw a party like that. So thanks team! You bloody awesome bunch of people, you!

Finally, in other news my sisters (sisters'? I don't really understand apostrophes. Apologies about that) have done it again and I currently have two new nieces or nephews cooking, one due in December and one in January. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I'm very excited! Fun Aunty Meg (I mean, that name is definitely self-titled but I feel like it's not a lie) is ready for you!

That's me done for now, I'll just leave you with a little family selfie.The more eagle-eyed readers may spot that it is an old selfie (my hair is now quite orange - intentionally orange and I am unashamed of that) but this one includes Toby. Who doesn't love a dog selfie, amiright?

Awww he's so hairy and slobbery, plus Toby doesn't look too bad either. Pahahaha!

Bye for now - thanks everyone!

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Guess who's back? Back again...

Hello everyone! 

I'm aware I've been pretty absent and neglectful of this blog - it definitely doesn't deserve it as it helped me through the many crappy events of last year - but I hope you'll let me off as I have been super busy! With that in mind I have written this edition to elaborate on several of the FREAKING AWESOME things that have happened since my last post. You may want to make yourself a drink and get yourself cosy; we're going to be here for a while. Hey ho, let's go...

My Work Life
If my memory serves me right I believe that my last post was about leaving Midwifery and moving on to becoming a Library Assistant extraordinaire? Well, that happened. I've been at my library post for just over three months and I bloody well love it. I miss people I used to work with but not once have I missed actual Midwifery, so I'm pretty darn happy about that. Plus I now work with some of the most fantastic people that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting - very patient people who have answered my one billion, incredibly annoying, questions and have never once told me to go away. For this I have to say a huge thank you! One day I promise that I will become the World's Best Library Assistant, but for now I feel like my colleagues are mentally rolling their eyes when they see me heading their way - but thank you for not physically rolling them at me, it's much appreciated!
Midwifery - 0: Library Assistant - 1

My Personal Life
(Strap yourselves in everyone, this is where it get extra exciting *dramatic music*)
As of the 5th May 2018, I am now MARRIED! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh hdjflshfdshfdskhfskhdsjweljwkewjklejklwejewk *excited noises*
Here's an incredibly arty photo of me and my new husband, eeek!

All credit for how good we look definitely goes to my fantastic photographer Claire - www.artbyclairephotography.com

We genuinely had THE BEST time ever and have to say a huge thank you to all that came and celebrated with us, we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did - if I could relive any day of my life that would be the one for me (funnily enough, the day I got diagnosed with cancer wasn't in the running...) I have to also give a big shout-out to Nyssa, my absolutely lovely and brilliant make-up artist for the day. If you're reading this (and I hope you are) just know you are fantastic and I would definitely not have had the courage to go wig-less if you hadn't been there with your awesome cheerleader skills! If anyone is looking for a makeup artist for anything, ever, look her up please - www.nyssaaddison.co.uk - she'll not only do your make-up, she'll also make you feel like you are the most amazing human being that ever walked this earth.

What else to update you on? Oh yes, I can briefly summarise our honeymoon if you would like? It was Amazing - it 100% earned that capital A. Brief summary over. Here's a photo of Warren pretending he has the necessary skills to fly a helicopter:

That was a helicopter flight over the Grand Canyon FYI. It was insane! In the best way.

What's that? You would like an extended "brief summary" of the honeymoon? Your wish is my command, as they say:

• 7 night cruise from Miami with day trips to Mexico, Belize and Honduras = bloody brilliant.
• 5 night stay in The Mirage in Las Vegas with a Grand Canyon helicopter tour, a meal in the Eiffel Tower restaurant, Cirque Du Soleil show and the CSI experience = bloody brilliant.

So there you have it folks, it was bloody brilliant. It took up pretty much all of our holiday allowance for the year but it was definitely worth it. Plus a big thank you to Auntie Beth (haha!) for dog sitting, Toby just told me to tell you that he misses you!

SKINNY DIP

Yes, you read that correctly - SKINNY DIP! Last month me and my bestie for the restie, Faye, travelled to Wicklow in Ireland to partake in an attempt at the world's largest skinny dip. With 2,500 women we flipping smashed it (we had to beat 700) and are now very proud Guinness World Record holders! It was women only and I fully recommend it to any woman out there - it was the most empowering day and the nakedness was such a small part of it. I've never seen so many shapes and sizes - it was definitely a fantastic reminder that people rarely look like how the media tells us that we should. We're going back next year, feel free to tag along!

It is definitely a contender for the best weekend ever. We may have lost a dog - and potentially stole a dog - at our Air Bnb (quite a long story - just know that it had a happy outcome) but I would do the weekend over again in a heartbeat. Here's a photo of us pre skinny dip (on the wine and doing fine at 10am!):

Life Without Larry

So I feel that I need to talk about my life post-cancer and I apologise for that. If you would like to skip this section then I will in no way hold it against you, for those still with me please just know that it's a little bit of a Debbie Downer.

I'm going to 100% honest right now. Alright? Here goes:

I feel like people expect me to be over the fact that I have had cancer.

There, I said it.

I have to say that I'm definitely in a much better place than I was before, but I still think about it and worry about it multiple times a day. I'm not over it and I don't think that I ever will be. I have days when I can't do much except cry; they are thankfully rare but they do happen, so if I last-minute cancel plans with you it's probably due to that and not that I don't want to hang out with you. I also struggle to make long-term plans and life goals as I have a little voice in my head that informs me that I probably won't live as long as everyone else. Sad but true, I feel like my whole life is one big question mark. I told you it would be a Debbie Downer!

I know that people have incredibly busy lives and I'm fully aware that I don't have cancer anymore, but it's always there no matter what I do. It's like Larry vacated his squat but he still sends me regular postcards.

I'm truly sorry to be so honest but this blog was born out of the fact that I needed somewhere to vent, so that's what I've done. F**k you Larry.

Now, I feel like I can't leave you on a downer so I've selected lyrics from another song that helped me through my cancer treatment. The song is 'I Lived' by OneRepublic and if you feel a bit crap I recommend it. If you were at the wedding you may know it as it's the one that made Faye and I actually run to dance!

"I hope that you spend your days

But they all add up,

And when that sun goes down

Hope you raise your cup,

I wish that I could witness

All your joy and all your pain,

But until my moment comes

I'll say

I, I did it all,

I, I did it all,

I owned every second that this world could give,

I saw so many places, the things that I did,

Yeah with every broken bone,

I swear I lived."

Until next time, blog fans, I wish you all the health and happiness in the world.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

National Larry Removal Day

Why, hello there!

It's me! I'm back again! And I've got a little update for you all, which I'll come to in a little while. It's an area of my life not directly linked with cancer (who knew that I had any of those left, eh? Cancer is pretty damn life consuming!) but it's a big old change so hold on to your hats.

But first it appears that another Cancerversary™ has come and gone and I DIDN'T blog about it! Saaaaayyy whaaaat? This particular celebration should have taken place last Tuesday (13th Feb) when it was one whole year since my operation. RIP Larry the lump - you gave me pure hell but I gave it back and I won. So sayonara you lumpy jerk, it's been a whole year and I still don't miss you. Sometimes I miss who I used to be before I had to come to the pretty horrible realisation that nobody is immortal - especially not me. That feeling usually passes quite quickly, however, and is helped along when I remember how bloody proud of myself I am that I got through last year. So yeah, screw you Larry and screw the horse you rode in on.

My next Cancerversary™ isn't until the 18th April, when we will celebrate the anniversary of my PICC line insertion (and the end of the joy of having a bath), bet you can't wait for that one, amiright? Put it in your diaries, let's have a good old fashioned PICC party!

Now we move on to the update that I mentioned at the beginning - I'm incredibly nervous and full of stress to announce this but here goes - for the foreseeable future (and possibly forever) I am leaving Midwifery. Yes, you read that right - in the next few weeks I will cease to be working as a Midwife. It is a decision that has brought only relief and no regret at all - things haven't been the same since I went back and my priorities in life have changed a lot. I can no longer cope with the sheer amount of stress that I feel at work and I am constantly letting down my colleagues and the women in my care because I feel as though the stress stops me from doing my job properly. So to everyone I work with presently, and all those I used to work with, I want to say I huge thank you for all the love and support you have given me. I love you all. Keep on keeping on - you are all bloody amazing people who do bloody amazing jobs but I'm afraid it's last orders for me. I may return, who knows? But I need to take a break to work out what works for me.

What's next for me, I hear you ask? Well I am off to work at Watford central library, a fact that actually makes me incredibly happy. I always wanted to be a librarian when I was little and now my childhood dreams are coming true! Bring it on!

That's all from me team, I'm off to internet shop for some glasses and a pencil skirt - I'm going to rock this librarian look...

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Year we go.

Cancer-versary

Today I feel that I have to write a blog post as it's a particularly important date; one year ago today I received the life-changing news that the lump I jokingly named Larry was in fact cancerous and out to kill me. Blunt but true. A year ago today my world got turned upside-down and things that I thought were important became significantly less so, all that was important at that stage was how I was going to kick Larry's little arse. And we did; now here I am in remission - with approximately 75% less hair but alive. I owe my life to the fabulous medical teams at both St Albans & Mount Vernon hospitals; I cannot thank them enough, they were bloody AMAZING. I also want to thank each and every one of you out there, I genuinely feel as though I would never have got through this with half as much strength if it hadn't been for all the love and support you have given me. 
THANK YOU!

If I have learnt anything throughout this (at times seemingly never-ending) journey it is this: don't waste your time stressing about the little stuff. Do what makes you happy, spend time with people that make you happy and the rest will sort itself out. Life is short but people are awesome, I'm happy for you to quote me on that!

I also have to send a shout out to the people I worked with on Monday (especially the particularly fantastic Irena). On Monday I found a lump in my armpit and I freaked out - not just a small freak out, it was a very messy affair. I've now had a scan and it's all absolutely fine but I just want to thank everyone who witnessed my freak out and calmed me down, I bloody love you all. One day I'm sure I will stop freaking out about every tiny change in my body and I canny wait! Cancer will not beat me but it is at the forefront of my mind most days so I apologise to anyone that thinks I talk about it too much. I'm trying to stop! 

I've decided that 2018 is going to be one huge year of awesomeness, whether it likes it or not. I have many plans already: getting married in May, honeymoon and I'm off to Ireland twice - once on St Patrick's weekend where we're dressing up as cheese (don't ask, I'm going to be mascarpone though!) and the second time in June when me and my bestie are going skinny dipping with hundreds of other ladies (most have been affected by cancer in some way) to break the world record! Bring. It. On. Watch out 2018, I'm coming for you.

Now to end I'm going to leave you with some song lyrics from one of the songs that got me through some particularly nasty times (looking at you, chemotherapy):

"If you wake up and don't want to smile,
If it takes just a little while,
Open your eyes and look at the day,
You'll see things in a different way.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone."

Yup, that is 'Don't Stop' by Fleetwood Mac. Yup, I have just quoted it at you. If you ever are having a crap time I guarantee that song will help, give it a go.

Until next time, team!

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.