The 33 week milestone.
A traumatic experience.
A restorative weekend away at De Vere Beaumont Estate in Windsor.
Another honest post.
Let me start off by writing, I'm not currently pregnant (that picture above was taken 18 months ago) but I too clearly remember the pressures I felt when I was (both times) by myself, the media, everyone around me with an opinion as I seemed to become public property (irrespective of this blog) with daily editorial judgments from usually joe bloggs off the street, ranging from, "You don't look pregnant to you're about to pop, right" to "Is it twins?"
For those who follow this blog (yes you few million at the back *cough cough), you'll know I've been doing the 5:2/ Fast Diet over the last month and this week is my 5th (*proud, slimmer face).
When Caleb was born, Sophie was 11 and babies were just about the best thing ever. Nothing she could do to help was never too much trouble. The age gap hadn't really crossed my mind when I fell pregnant and the fact I still had a child at junior school may have contributed to that. Initially all seemed fine..
My name is Hazel Davis and I’m not particularly close to my mother. There. I said it. As a female adult it’s not an easy position to be in.
I don’t know how it happened. Once, I was able to leave the house for a loaf of bread without having to give thirty minutes notice. I could even make it back again with time to spare before Eastenders started. These days, events like this take so much preparation and fore-warning that I would rather go without toast and opt for an easier life all round.