Lucy the bump

I've had a baby! I could not be happier, she is a perfect bundle of soft, gorgeous loveliness. However this post is about my pregnancy, I'll get on to birth and the immediate aftermath in another post along with one about actually being a real Mummy another day.

One day, sat in a staff briefing about a department restructure I got a migraine with an aura. Migraines were a regular occurrence (I've not had one since though and long may that continue) but not with an aura. In the moment that I popped my ever faithful pink migraleve tablets I wondered if it was due to me, maybe, being pregnant. I didn't do a test for another week or so, but I was indeed pregnant, it was the best reason for having a migraine I've ever had, although I can think of no other good reason to have one to be honest.

I was both elated and terrified in the same moment, I've known forever that I wanted children but who isn't at least a little terrified of bringing a new life into this less than perfect world? Another small problem was that I was hoping for a promotion at work and I didn't want to give them any reason to put a black mark against my name. I know, you can't discriminate, blah blah blah, but (sorry PC brigade) if I had two almost identical candidates but one was pregnant......well, I know who I'd choose.

The other issue that I struggled with was telling my stepchildren, it wasn't that I didn't want them to know, but I didn't want my other half's ex to know. It was nice to have something that just belonged to us two for a short time. Also, this was my first pregnancy, but wasn't for my other half, it made me sad that we weren't sharing it as a "first" for us both.

We told very close family and friends, but otherwise kept it quiet. I was lucky that I stayed small, for a long time you couldn't tell, unless you knew. The recruitment process at work was painfully slow but I desperately wanted the promotion, not for the money, I truly loved the job and I just couldn't let anything stop me getting it. When I was finally offered the job I let out the breath I'd been holding for 24 weeks and told my boss. He was over the moon for me, as was his boss, and it wasn't an issue in the slightest. Yes, they are pretty awesome and I probably shouldn't have worried, but I did.

We told the stepkids on Christmas Day, I thought it may soften any shock for them if they had shiny new things to be distracted by when we told them. They were all fine about it, with the youngest only being worried about not knowing how to be a big brother. On Mothers Day, whilst I was up a ladder painting the nursery, I had a text from my stepdaughter "Happy first real Mothers Day" which was totally unexpected and made my day.

My pregnancy went smoothly, at each check up and scan we were told everything was normal. I enjoyed my growing bump, although found being slowed down slightly annoying, but feeling wiggles and kicks more than made up for that and the 100's of times I needed the loo! The bump was known as Lucy, when my youngest brother was born I remember my Dad calling from the hospital and me asking him if we could call him Lucy, so what else could I have called my bump! If you follow me on any form of social media you would have seen weekly updates of my growing belly too, sorry for all the spam, which has now of course turned into baby spam!

I adored preparing the nursery and buying all the things we needed, I'd waited my entire life to be able to do it. I really struggled at points to share it all with my stepchildren and I honestly tried my best to do so, but when the youngest "tried out the cot to see how comfy it was" I cried myself to sleep. It probably sounds stupid to most of you, but to me it felt like I couldn't have anything that was just our child's, that it would always have to be shared.

Even my other half's ex was fine, at one point she even practically asked to touch my bump. The answer was no, sorry that's just a bit too weird for me. We get on fine, but we're not mates and I even had an issue with most of my mates wanting to touch, never mind my other half's ex wife! I sometimes had to stop myself from moving away when my stepchildren wanted to touch, not because I wanted exclude them, but because they were an ever present reminder that this wasn't a "first" with my partner and that always left me a little sad and still does.

I was loving my new job and decided to work right up to the last minute, well 10 days before my due date. My work colleagues looked after me brilliantly, forever stopping me from doing too much and making me cups of tea! But I think they all breathed a sigh of relief when I finally finished without giving birth in the office, I'll be back before they've had chance to miss me though.

Inspiration comes from the strangest places

I know I started this blog to follow my ups &downs, trials & tribulations as a Stepmother, but I thought I'd do this post to kind of explain as I ended up as one in the first place. Inspiration has come from Karen Danczuk of all people, which I find strange as she's not someone who I would normally see as a role model.... her blog post which inspired me can be found here,
http://selfiemadewoman.tumblr.com/post/128495508205/starting-again

Before I met my current partner and became a Stepmother, I was married. Yes, hence the inspiration from Karen.

Met in 2007, engaged 2010, married 2012, split (officially) 2013, decree absolute 07.07.2014.

What happened? Looking back now I know that I should never have married him in the first place. Life was coasting along fine, but that was it, coasting. We'd been together for 3 years before we got engaged, bought a house together, getting married and planing babies is just what you did next, isn't it? So that's what we did.

I was so caught up in the actual getting married bit, having my big day, huge white dress, flowers, guests, presents, all of it and more. I did have it all, but in the madness and excitement of planning it all I'd forgotten to actually think about who I was marrying and if he was the right man.

He wasn't.

There are lots of reasons why it wasn't right, but the final tipping point, the one that made my mind up that it was all wrong and there was no point in fighting, was when he accused me of changing and not being the same person anymore. Ask my friends, I've never changed, I've always been plain talking, ordinary, normal, average Zoe, just me. The worst part was him telling me he didn't like my home (Yorkshire), would never go there again and tried to blame me changing on my youngest brother being ill. In that moment I could have punched him. Hard (I didn't). Do NOT mess with my family or Yorkshire, I would kill for both, I love them more than anything.

This particular argument happened in Oct 2012, only 4 months into married life. Well done me I thought, done a great job here. How the hell do I clear this mess up? How do I get out? I was more worried about telling my Mum than anything else - she was fine once she knew this was what was right for me, obviously.

I went out with friends lots, worked late and drank lots, anything to avoid being in the same place as him, never mind the same house. I moved into the spare room with the cat.

There were lots of tears, behind closed doors, there were very few people that knew. I guess I was ashamed of being a failure (what I perceived to be a failure), crying over the mess and the wasted years rather than being upset over the end of the relationship.

Now I wish that I'd never said yes in the first place. But he proposed underneath the Eiffel Tower, on my birthday, with a Tiffany ring, what girl would say no?! I guess, also that I would have been worried about being a failure at that point too. Just a shame I wasted my dream dress and all that money on the wrong man.

I also wish I'd squeezed my Dad's hand as he walked me down the aisle, he'd told me on the way to the venue "If you change your mind, just squeeze my hand, we'll turn and run!" I knew he wasn't being serious, but I also know if I'd squeezed he would have run with me. It goes without saying that my Dad has been amazing throughout, never judging or questioning me, just being there and supporting me. He even offered to bring concrete wellies when he and my youngest brother came to help move my ex out.

However, I agree with Karen, if you're unhappy, leave. This life only comes along once and you're only here to make yourself happy, not everyone else, not to save face and do what is expected.

It's not easy, I know that. I was lucky to have such a good support network of friends close by who provided nights out, booze, listening, laughter and hugs. Also that my family just accepted it, not that I should have ever expected anything less from them. My middle brother made my cry when I told him (via text, I'm a wimp) as his reply was "As long as you're ok Sis" from that point I knew that I would be ok and that I'd come out the other side and still be me.

364 days after I got married my (now ex) husband moved out.

365 days after I got married my new partner moved in and I became a Stepmother.

Shit happens, but life moves on. Do whatever you need to do to be happy, sod what anyone thinks of you.

Z x

Space to breathe

This week my stepkids are on holiday with their Mum, a whole week, 7 whole days and 7 whole nights, and even though I'll be at work it feels like a holiday for me too*

*cue gasps of horror and evil stepmother comments....

I know, it's terrible of me to think and feel like this, I should be missing them as much as my partner is and wishing the week away until they are back, right?

Wrong.

I'm sorry for my partner, I know he will miss them terribly and, at points, I will miss them too but on the whole I will just feel free for the week. Free to just be me and to just be a regular normal couple with my partner, with no worries about homework, hair washing, arguments, school runs or ways to entertain kids. As, at the end of the day, they are not my kids but I do, I think, invest a lot of myself in them and sometimes I just need a break from it.

I'm sure some of you are reading this and thinking what a evil stepmother I am, but if you know me then you will know I'm not. If you stop and think for a minute, if you are a parent, sometimes even you want a break, you want your kids just to not be there for a little while. Don't you? Well think about if they weren't your kids? Would you not have those feelings, probably magnified?

I know the answer, not that many of you will admit it.

I also have something else to let me have that space when the kids are with us and that is one room in the house that is a child free zone, at all times. I don't think you will understand unless you're a stepparent yourself, but that space is my safe zone. If I've had a bad day or if kids are just too much for me and I need half an hour, I can escape and chill out. Much better than me taking out any stress on my partner or with a chocolate binge or wine or worst of all, taking it out on the kids.

You see, me having this space and this week isn't really me being a selfish, evil stepmother, it's about me being the best stepmother I can be. Without it I don't think I could do everything else.

And breathe..............

#OneBorn

Tuesday night means One Born Every Minute is on the TV, I've watched it since it started, a kind of morbid fascination I guess. I've always wanted children ever since I can remember so I guess I wanted to be armed with as much knowledge as possible about the realities of child birth from more sources than just friends and family horror stories.

So it's on the TV in our house whenever it's on.

I've always cried too, not every episode, not every time, but since becoming a stepmother the crying at #OneBorn has become more regular. It's the joy on the parents faces that does it, not the cute little baby. More often than not they do not look cute, they are covered in blood and gloop and slime and poop, certainly not cute. Just that sheer joy that I have not yet experienced myself but have always longed for, at the right time, with the right man, when we have a house, when we have enough money, when we're ready.....always an excuse.

To be honest I was glad of the excuses a couple of years ago, the excuse then was I wanted to wait until after I was married, not because of any religious reason or it being the "right thing to do", but because I didn't want to be fat in my wedding dress! The wedding went ahead, all was fine, but not for long............long story and maybe for another blog, but 1 day before our 1st wedding anniversary my now ex-husband moved out.

I was glad there was no baby.

Anyway, last night was certainly a crying night at #OneBorn. The show had made me feel teary anyway, stupid woman hormones, but then my other half made a comment about one of the women on the show, how she should be on her hands and knees, it's easier that way, that's what the midwives said when his daughter was born. It was a nothing throw away comment, that wasn't meant against the woman on the show and certainly not me. However it reminded me that he has kids, with someone that isn't me.

My brain went into overdrive (those pesky woman hormones again) and had me thinking about the joy he and his ex wife must have shared at the birth of their 3 children, although I know full well he's 1,000,000% committed and in love with me now, not her. It also made me sad that I haven't shared that joy, that feeling, with him, that I can't give him his first child or his first daughter nor his first son. That maybe if we do have a child it somehow won't be as special for him as it would be for me.

I know (the morning after) it's all in my head and that it would be as special for him, that we would have that feeling and that moment together, but last night, for just for a moment, I wished that his ex wife and kids just didn't exist. That it was just me and him and we could enjoy that journey for the first time together, that I wouldn't have to share it with anyone else.

And I cried silent tears.

Z x

Definition of a StepMother

So, I find myself as a StepMother, something which I don't think any little girl plans to be when she grows up, it certainly wasn't part of my life plan anyway!

This blog has come about as I feel that StepMothers are usually cast as evil and generally bad exmples, poor role models and nowhere near anything like an extra parent, for their poor, mistreated stepchildren and only interested in themselves and their partners, the stepchildren being a mere inconvenience. I wanted to put across the point of view of a StepMother who is new to all this and trying her damndest to make it work out right for everyone! There will be other blogs, about me as a person and the other aspects of my life, but I thought I'd kick off with the definition of a StepMother.....

1. A bitch that gets a divorce from her husband and moves into your house after your mother dies and screws your dad. she will do anything to buy your love for about a year but then she becomes a total bitch.

2. The woman your father married after your evil, slutty mother threw him out because he refused to become a woman. The stepmother puts up with your spoiled ass and shitty treatment of both her and your father because she actually loves your father, which neither you or your fat, ugly, broke mother ever did. She's hot, educated, willing to work and actually enjoys sex - all things your mother isn't/won't/doesn't. 

Being a stepmother sucks because no matter how much the kids' mother has emotionally abused them, they will always believe her when she tells them you are horrible, and so they treat you like shit, even though you support them financially and don't tell them what shitty little brats they are. 

3. The fattest uglyest stupidest bitch you will ever meet. this woman treats her both blood realated and step children like shit. this woman is unbearable yet her husband wont stand up for his kids and chooses his ugly stupid wife over them.

These are all courtesy of Urban Dictionary http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=step+mother I chose this as I think it is quite a contemporary source of information and reflects today's internet generation.

1 and 3 are quite obviously the views of stepchildren and, quite possibly, their biological mum's too. Number 2 has to be from a stepmother who, in my opinion, is quite close to the edge.

However 1 and 3, if you ask amongst your friends, are sadly mostly the view that people have of stepmothers. Unfortunately 2 does nothing to dispell the myth either, us stepmothers can be our own worst enemy! Hopefully, through my blog, I will try and prove this view wrong although there are always bad examples in every walk of life and even I have bad days!

Until next time.....

Z x