My Birthing Story

WARNING: My birthing story could be a trigger. It was not a smooth labour, nor was it a nice one - it was traumatic. If you are sensitive, keep a box of kleenex at hand. This post is going to also be long so make sure you are comfortable with a cup of caffeine and a few hobnobs.


As giggles surround the new black glittered walls of my small flat whilst the droplets of water pitter-patter against my misty windows, I hear her laughing at the angels that visit her in her dreams. Beautiful long eyelashes outline her big blue eyes that take my breath away, her little hands closed into tight fists, and her feet entwined comfortably in her favourite giraffe printed baby pink blanket. Peering over to her tiny, fragile body, I can't help but think about how lucky I am to have such a gorgeous little girl in my life that I carried in my womb for a day less than eight months.

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