2015 was our year. We got engaged on 16th January and got married just 16 weeks later. The wedding took over that short space of time and consumed us completely, we put all the energy we’d previously reserved for the house into that day and it was, like it is for everyone who gets to have one of those days, the best day ever.
We also decided to spend a ton of money on a three week trip to America for our honeymoon in September which was incredible.
Without the cash or time, it meant the house got neglected. So too did the blog. I had nothing to blog about.
So I did what everyone on Grand Designs does when they’re in the middle of the project. Got preggo. Ok, I exaggerate. We’re not in the middle of the project, we live in it, we don’t live in a caravan in the middle of winter in blind panic that the baby will be born with frostbite. But I am definitely pregnant. 30 whole weeks pregnant, close-to-the-finishing-line pregnant, OVER being pregnant tbh.
I’ve kept my pregnancy pretty quiet until now and have been writing a diary to help tackle void that I needed to fill in the absence of writing the blog. I’ve toyed with publishing it but think it will have to stay private for a few reasons – it’s beyond sweary, I am horrible about almost everyone I know in it and it is graphically detailed. I started writing it because I missed writing but also as an important reminder of how truly, truly horrible the first 15 weeks were and tbh, how the other 15 weeks have been marginally better, but distinctly lacking in “glow” (which is a made-up load of BS used to describe a sweating pregnant woman.) If you have a 14 year old girl, please invite me round so I can tell her to seriously think about unprotected sex unless she enjoys bacne, constant indigestion, a permanent compulsion to find the nearest loo, leg spasms or spending significant periods of time curled up on the cold floor of second floor toilets at work (ok, just me)…and those are the best bits.
In 2016 our baby is going to show up and yes, whilst it is likely to result in some of our beautiful minimalist white walls to be splattered with poo, I reckon it will have its upsides. I’ll be allowed to spray paint again for one.
So after all that waffle I guess what I’m trying to say is A Yorkshire Home is going to become A Yorkshire Home and Baby, where I’ll probably talk about some baby stuff alongside figuring out how to keep our beautiful home just that, despite the onslaught of toys and vomit.
I hope I won’t bore you to tears with baby gumpf.