Will I ever..

Catch a break.

I feel almost as though my body’s failing me and it sucks. 

My tears have dried and my head heavy both from the anesthetic and the four endone tablets I’ve had today. 

I type this post from my hospital bed.. funny isn’t it, how life works, you can be fine one second and be sent for an emergency CT scan the next. Acute Appendicitis is the medical term my GP used as she pressed down on my abdomen whilst I simultaneously moaned from the pain. Pain that I thought was caused from chasing the kids over the weekend.. oh boy was I wrong.Within an hour I was on my way to Emergency department, admitted almost instantly and given antibiotics through an IV.. For someone who has had three natural births and not once accepted pain relief both pre and post birth, I was surprised when I found myself begging for something to take the pain away. 

Fast forward to 8am today, four surgeons surrounded my bed explaining the procedure and how they intended to successfully remove my appendix.. 12pm I woke.. exhausted.. No other word to describe how I felt and still feel.. I am exhausted emotionally that I cannot be there for my two kiddies, and my 20 day young baby who loves to snuggle her way right up my neck followed by deep breaths, as if somehow smelling my scent will keep her heart beating.

It somewhat breaks me to know that I’d have to face my four year old and explain that Mummy’s tummy hurts AGAIN and won’t be able to do the normal things we just only recently started doing AGAIN. 10.35pm – So here I am alone but surrounded by three other patients, under three blankets but not in my bed, in a quiet room but no crying baby, comforted by night shift nurses but can’t hear my daughter snore.

I am thankful and understand how fortunate I am to have family, using the word ‘amazing’ to describe them would be an understatement.. They are my everything! Having strangers look after your children is one thing, but having family who genuinely love your kids and will do anything to see them smile is a complete other! 

Health is a blessing, and I am so grateful that it’s me that’s been hit and not my children.. we don’t ever truly appreciate our health until we’re tested and faced with something similar and in many cases a lot worse than ‘appendicitis’. 

I am grateful.

But I am 



My Midwives

Dear Emelie & Lila

( A little background info about the two: EMELIE, beautiful, blonde haired woman whom I feel I am forever grateful for helping deliver my healthy baby girl Elaina just over two years ago. LILA this amazing wide smiled midwifery student whom I feel has turned my world into such a brighter place. ) 

So there I was, I can recall checking in my paperwork at my local hospital, 16 weeks pregnant with our third and super anxious. Although an introvert, I find I can easily communicate with strangers hence the conversation arose between the admin woman and myself about how amazing the midwife I had nearly 1 year and half ago was! To my delight she informed me she still worked there and some very kind words later she did what no public patient is entitled to and enlisted me to her clinic 😮

As could be imagined, my first visit was filled with lots of hugs and teary eyes.. I knew just how fortunate I was to have the same midwife seeing me every appointment but felt even more grateful because she had already played such a big role in my previous delivery. There was a face though, sitting behind Emelie, a glowing smile at every appointment.. Lila. Lila who I came to know was a Mummy to three little kiddos and always managed to make it to every single appointment of mine.. even when I would run late, she was there, waiting too.. 

Fast Forward

39 weeks check up. I’m in tears. Lila asks ” how are you feeling? ” and immediately I break down hysterically. I don’t ever whinge, but by this stage the pain of having a tiny head so low in your pelvis is enough to make anyone cry into a pillow! I saw both their faces change – empathy.. They spent over half an hour reassuring me that there is an end, and after an examination delighted me with news that the “end” was quite near. 

Night. Exhausted. Runny nose. Sore throat. Unable to turn in bed.


3.30am. Admitted into hospital only to be assessed by one tired ( did I mention TIRED) young nurse. In a monotone voice and robotic manner she began to assess the situation to which she advised ” It’ll be a while “, I replied ” I understand, however my labours progress quickly and I cannot be sent home”, she explained that for some strange reason she couldn’t locate my file and would have to take my word for it ( Thank god for that ) And with that she yawned, turned off the lights and whispered “get some sleep”. 

I was exhausted. I fell asleep. 

Big Mistake.

Contractions went from solid 3 minutely to 10 minutes apart.. I knew I was in trouble.

7am – I began to pace around the examination room, “crazy walker”, I knew my body, I had felt her head descend lower in the last week and knew the more pressure I put on to my pelvis the quicker this process was going to be. 

Knock at the door.

I nearly fall but catch on to my knees.

What were the chances ! Emelie was on a morning shift ( ONLY THURSDAY MORNINGS ) and Lila came in for her prac… tears were exchanged, they couldn’t believe my luck and neither could I.. while the pain of the contractions were excruciating, I would look over at Lila sitting in the corner and she would say ” you’re doing it, you’re doing so well “.. you would think ‘scripted response’ but her facial expressions – she was genuinely proud of me and catching little glimpses of her when I could provided some much needed relief 💚

9.34am our 3.47kg, 51cm tall, full head of hair baby was born.. I stared at him, her father, teary eyed.. looking at me like I was his whole world, then looking into her big eyes and watching his world, his heart, explode into a million pieces. ” I’m so proud of you” he said, I smiled as I cradled her, our Baby💚

Emelie & Lila, you have shared this journey with me, one that I will never forget and don’t intend to… it’s because of women like you, with hearts filled with passion like yours, that women like me feel empowered enough to take on the entire world. Thank you.

Anissa/ 04-05-17


In order: Lila, Emelie and the cutest little newborn toes xx


Reality is I’m 38 weeks pregnant.

Which brings with it a whole lot of emotions, anxiety, excitement and guilt. Anxiety because the very thought of moving with a newborn scares the shit out of me.. Excitement because I cannot freaking wait to baby this BABY! Sounds so bloody silly but when I had my first, I just couldn’t wait till he reached all his big milestones ( sitting, crawling, clapping, walking) and before I knew it he was forming sentences 😩. Along came my second and lord knows my most dominant thought was “hurry and get bigger so he’ll finally be able to play with you”.. I didn’t get to baby any of my babies 😞, this time round it’s a promise I’m making, after all..my older two already have each other🙌🏻

Lastly.. guilt.

Saying “no” to my four year old as we drove past a playground and asked if we could go down and play.. broke my heart the first time I explained to him that I was just in too much pain to chase him around, now it just shatters me completely that he doesn’t even ask anymore. He’s my best friend, my little boy, only four but can already sympathise with his Mummy… I overhead him chatting with his sister – ” When Mummy has her, well go to parks again, her tummy won’t hurt anymore”.. Ofcourse as you can imagine I cried myself to sleep that night. 

Somehow I’m trying my best to make it up to them.. putting together their hospital presents helps me feel a little less guilty.. Every night he asks me to speak to his unborn sister and ask for another hint at what she’s gotten him, and every night after I answer followed by giggles and cuddles, I leave his room more at ease than I was the night before. 

P.s. I’ve attached a picture of his gift to his new little sister.. he chose three things – a musical lion  “will help her sleep”, a rattle “will help her sing and dance” and lastly a dummy bunny ” so she won’t be alone”.. his words are beyond his years, it was evident when we wrote her card together💚

Till next time


It’s okay to surrender…

Is what I’ve been telling myself these past couple of days.. funny how life changes in a year.

One year ago I was excited for what the future held, one year ago I was determined to graduate April 2018 (FREAKING FINALLY) I was ecstatic for our journey ahead as a family of four.. one year ago..

Today I am overwhelmed, today I am exhausted, today I am unsure when I will graduate, today I am anxious with 10 weeks remaining till our family becomes five.. 

I am surrendering to fate, fate says why not have three kids before you turn 24, fate says why graduate in 2018 when you can in 2020, fate says why not renovate an entire home and move in right before your due date, fate says why not do all of this while taking care of a curious preschooler and a rebel toddler.. Fate says.. Fate decides.. Has decided.. I have to learn to accept that I can’t fight it..

I tried, I tried to convince myself that I could jam in a whole semesters worth of assessments in eight weeks to make my due date, I tried to convince myself that I would be okay being out of the house every single day of the week while heavily pregnant, I tried to convince myself that while I did all of this I would still be able to spend quality time with my husband and children whilst ALSO moving house.. I tried but I couldn’t.. I realised I just can’t do it..

I’ve surrendered.. officially, and although I initially felt I had failed I’ve realised that overwhelming myself with unrealistic expectations will only make me more anxious and frustrated.. thoughts and emotions that aren’t particularly healthy for my unborn baby nor my family.. hell its not okay for ME!

Emotional rant over. 

Overly hormonal pregnant Mom. 


12 weeks pregnant.

Boom! Not even going to go down the path of explaining myself, but I’ll answer all your questions in this quick imaginary chat that I envision with you all

“OMG were you planning???”

Me: No

“But you so wanted a third kid right?!!”

Me: No, shit I’m barely coping with two

“It’ll be so exciting to have all of your children grow up together right?!”

Me: Totally! I mean I just can’t wait to leave the house with three children under four! I mean can you imagine the great shopping trips and park adventures! Oh don’t forget the tantrums TIMES FREAKING THREE

“It’ll be easy because you’re still in the ‘baby zone’ ”

Me: DO I FREAKING LOOK LIKE I WANNA BE STUCK IN THE BABY ZONE!!! I mean it’s always been my life long goal to continue changing diapers for four years consecutively 🤗 going onto five but hey don’t be jelly😎

Sarcasm aside, I believe I’m a bloody great Mum, I fail some days but most days I put a smile on their faces and if that’s not the most rewarding thing in life I don’t know what is. The fact that god believes another child deserves the love and happiness that our family is able to provide gives me butterflies.. It will be difficult most definitely but heck was life supposed to be easy?? 

Even though my blog was supposed to be my journal I couldn’t confess to being pregnant AGAIN.. it’s my FIFTH pregnancy guys.. 2 children.. do the math.. I have faith, but miscarriages do take a toll both emotionally and physically.. 

My heart goes out to those trying to conceive and those who have lost a life.. focus on the blessings and be grateful for what you have, sounds so cliche but I promise it was only when I reached a point of contentment with where my life was at that God decided to say “well here you go”.. I’m scared to shits but scary is good.. I mean I’m practically a fully functioning Mummy robot so what’s another experiment 😌


I don’t need sympathy 

I need change. 

People always wondered why I was a book worm.. Never made any sense why out of all of my siblings I would choose a book over playing outside or watching a movie. Everybody has a story and everybody is the way they are because of something they’re enduring or have already overcome. Reading for me was an escape, fictional novels to be precise. Give me a book light and I would not sleep until that book was done… Tearing up as I write this because I fell in love with reading for all the WRONG reasons. It makes sense now why I enjoy taking Zayn to the library, reading him books at night, going on imaginative journeys together.. My hope is when he grows older he’ll pick up a book because he WANTS to not because he HAS to. 

My mother was amazing,heck that word isn’t enough.. She sung every nursery rhyme under the sun, would buy me new picture books and ask me to draw my own conclusions or tell her the story from my point of view then she’d begin to read it.. I remember staring at her in awe, as if she were performing magic, creating characters, changing voices when along she was just reading. That’s the beauty of innocence when your young, you don’t know much.. 

As I got older it became more obvious, as beautiful as she was.. She was somehow being punished.. The yelling, the shoving, glass breaking – tears, lots and lots of tears. There I was a ten year old, rushing to my bedroom, opening the drawer “read read read” I’d whisper to myself almost as if I was in a rush, come to think of it I was.. I wanted to escape, I wanted it to be over, he usually went for 15 minutes but I’d cry as I’d begin to read, and before I knew it there I was riding a dragon in my favourite book ‘Eragon’. It didn’t matter to me that an hour went by, I was away, I was happy – he was done.

Domestic Violence is real, it happens.. To all the women that say “I’m staying for my kids” RUN! Your kids shouldn’t have to escape life in their own home, their safe place.. Your children shouldn’t have to fall asleep quietly sobbing wondering why you woke up with eyes so swollen from all the tears.. Your children shouldn’t have to hide in their bedroom and cover their younger brothers ears as he yells and hits you while they endure the psychological trauma.. Your children need a HAPPY home. That’s not to say my parents didn’t have happy days, when those days happened I would get all excited and try to enjoy them, but when those days turned into weeks I’d worry, because it wouldn’t have been long before he’d decide to have another pointless fit.

My point is whether your single or married, make your goal as a couple to be the best of friends, show love and compassion.. Kiss each other infront of your kids, giggle and give endless cuddles, children Are not children for long and as they get older they’ll be able to recognise love and instantly feel at home. They shouldn’t have to escape reality but rather live in the moment, full of happiness and joyful experiences.

Mum I am so proud of you, proud of the guts it took to stand on your own two feet. And when my children grow older and they need a story of inspiration I can tell you now it won’t begin with ‘once upon a time’. 💚

Disclaimer –  you want to argue ? Bite your tongue and say “bed time”. Children shouldn’t witness an intense arguement between their parents, that can happen while they’re snoozing away dreaming of Peter Pan. No bed time routine ? Text.. Emojis make arguements so much more fun 😊



That’s exactly how I feel. In limbo. Maybe that word best describes it. 9 weeks pregnant with my third, it took a while to wrap my head around the fact that it was actually happening.. That somehow as a 22 year old, I was capable of being a mother to THREE children. I never was truly content, and I think that’s where the problem was, that’s what my body knew and rejected it. 

I miscarried at 9 and a half weeks pregnant, in medical terms described as ‘blighted ovum’. I was gutted although a part of me was slightly, selfishly and shamefully relieved. I felt like a crappy mother the minute I fell pregnant, overwhelmed with emotion although a month before this DH and I were discussing having a third. I had a horrible week, and felt relieved that we had not delved into the idea, I was content with the life I had, and came to realise that having a third would be undue stress on myself, my children and my marriage.

However, God, the universe whatever higher power you believe in had other plans. I felt horrible and almost evil that I cried for 4 hours straight when I found out I was pregnant, don’t get it confused, I would never say that I didn’t want this pregnancy, I kept repeating, I don’t deserve this pregnancy. You see this little being that was being created inside of me deserved a loving Mummy, someone who had butterflies when she realised she was pregnant, someone who was anxious and filled with excitement at her first ultrasound, someone who just couldn’t wait till the day she’d meet him or her. Instead.. I was distraught, dreading the day where I’d be running after three little very dependant children.. Who would suffer? My three year old who I would come to overload with responsibilities beyond his capabilities ? Or will my marriage be sacrificed ? Maybe my sanity ? 

So I sat there, waiting for the synographer to call my name, it was the moment every Mother looks forward to.. Hearing the heart beat, excited to make sure everything is okay and baby is healthy… Except that wasn’t me.. And it hurt so much that I couldn’t fix me, fix my mind, fix my heart.. I just wasn’t excited and I hated myself for it. “Can’t see a baby”.. Hearing her say those words, I followed with a sigh of relief and then came the tears, how could I react this way ? Why was I feeling this way ? Why couldn’t I be grateful that I was able to carry another child while others struggle for years. I was selfish, but I could not control it, and I am sorry for it.

I am so so sorry for it.