Hi, I’m Elle, the absent blogger.

I just thought I would re-introduce myself before I come in with an apology of what on earth I have been up to for all of these months instead of actually filling this blog with my writing.  Well, as many of you may have seen (I mean, it’s not like I have mentioned it 65875 times) I was writing a book.  I know, me, an entire bloody book. I can’t quite believe it either. If someone had asked me what my aims were with my blog when it started in January 2017, I can tell you that turning it into a book was not one of them.  I still can’t quite believe it’s happened.  When I hold it in my hands and stare at that title that was deliberated over, I genuinely cannot believe that Teddy’s story is there in print, forever.

Despite the chaotic nature of our son Jasper’s sudden and unexpected arrival, the time we spent with him was calm, peaceful and beautiful. When I look at the handful of pictures I have of me holding him, all I see is an expression of shock and disbelief on my face. That makes me sad, as it doesn’t reflect the beauty of the precious time we had with him.

I never know how to start my story.  You see, I’m not your typical Mummy.  I didn’t grow up playing with baby dolls dreaming of the day when I would have my own.  In fact, for a long time, I didn’t think I even wanted children.  I thought the maternal gene had skipped me, and to be honest I was OK with it. I had a good career and the idea of changing dirty nappies and being vomited on every two seconds just didn’t appeal to me.

When you become a mother your heart bursts with love and pride. There is an innate feeling to protect your baby. It is emotional, beautiful and overwhelming. It is the feeling of true love.

You are in awe of this tiny person you have created.  From the tiny toes and the long eyelashes to the little dimple in their cheek, every single part of your baby is just perfect. Absorbed in that moment you can almost ignore that things aren’t quite right. For a moment you can almost forget that your baby’s eyes haven’t yet opened, a cry not made and the chest not rising and falling.