I’ve known for many years that I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), so we headed into marriage knowing that getting pregnant could be a challenge.  Neither of us expected we would get pregnant on our honeymoon but, just over a month after we returned home, I found I was visiting the bathroom several times an hour and my boobs felt like they might explode. “Do you think I need to take a test?” I half-joked to my husband, and couldn’t quite believe it to be reality when the test told us that we were, in fact, pregnant. In that moment we became parents, with hopes and dreams and plans for our future that were no longer a theory, no longer some far-off thing that might happen “one day.”

I remember the day I told Brett, my husband of seven years, that I was pregnant with our first child.  Brett and I had been together since 2006 in high school and had built a fantastic life together over the years.  We both had great careers (Brett a teacher and I a nurse), we had money saved up, a home with space to grow into and we were ready to start filling it with children.  It was December 28, 2017 and the warm sun had given us a break from the Louisiana winter.  I couldn’t stop smiling as I spilled the beans before I could even use the Arsenal onesie I bought to tell him.  I was met with a hug along with the biggest, most genuine smile I’ve ever seen on his face.

Fast forward to of our gender scan, Brett playfully opened the envelope given to us by our doctor… BOY… and I immediately started crying.  Through the years, we always wanted to have both a girl and boy but I secretly wished we would have our boy first.  We named our son James Martin, tying in both family’s names.  We were so happy that I can still feel the soreness in my face from smiling and laughing that day.  We spent that weekend, Easter weekend, celebrating our gender reveal with friends, family, and a feeling of happiness that was almost tangible.

My story began in August 2017 when by surprise, two pink lines appeared on a pregnancy test that I had taken in work on my lunch break.  To say that I was surprised was an understatement.  I had only taken the test as I had been having a few of the familiar symptoms that I experienced with my little boy Oscar 5 years previously.  Never in a million years did I imagine that it would come back positive!  I was both elated and nervous at the prospect of becoming a Mummy again, particularly as things hadn’t been easy for me over the previous years.  I had experienced post-natal depression following the birth of my little boy and I was terrified of this returning, something that I thought was the worst thing that could happen… If only I knew!  I had also had a succession of stomach operations to remove a lymphangioma (a rare cystic tumour) the latest one of which was open surgery and although I had recovered extremely well it had been tough.  Once the shock had worn off and I had informed my husband we then began to become excited at the prospect of a new little addition arriving into our family… A blessing.

Full disclosure, my husband and I are a terrible cliché.  We were cast as lovers in our high school play, then we were lovers in college for real.  Traveling companions on a gap year and cohabiters when we returned.  We got kittens, then a hamster which wasn’t ideal.  The kittens are now cats and the hamster’s body was never found.  We broke up once and I begged him to take me back.  He asked me to marry him and I did.  He followed his dreams to drama school and I went unwillingly, scared to leave my friends.  I told him he’d owe me for the rest of his life and he makes up for it every day despite it being the best thing we ever did.  We got a dog who is scared of the cats but bigger than them so it works and we tell each other every day that love each other and remind ourselves we are lucky.