As well as being a co-presenter for a breakfast radio show, I also earn my crust as a writer. Part of this job involves writing features, part of it involves writing commercial copy and part of it involves blogging.
I rarely put any of my work-related writing here because this is my personal space. But I wanted to share my most recent post for one of my clients, because it’s something that I could easily have written right here.
It’s 10 o’clock at night and I’ve had a difficult day. I’m tired and emotional and a bit overwhelmed.
We’ve been at the hospital, you see. My daughter, now approaching 22 months old, is still not walking. The doctors think there may be a problem with her hips. Continue reading
Hospital waiting rooms - a good source of books
I didn’t sleep last night.
I was too busy tossing and turning in bed, mulling over the various different things that could mean my toddler isn’t toddling. Why is it that things always seem so much worse in the dark?
Today’s hospital appointment – both dreaded and anticipated – wasn’t particularly pleasant. The X-ray which I was hoping to avoid did actually happen. The consultant examined Frog’s gorgeous hips and sent us straight to the room with the “special camera”. Continue reading
I’m dreading tomorrow. I’m anticipating tomorrow. I can’t wait for it to come. The thought of it fills me with dread.
Tomorrow I should find out what is wrong with my little girl, if anything. Tomorrow I should find out if my non-toddling toddler is just a late walker or if there is, indeed, a more sinister reason for her lack of mobility. Continue reading
This time next week, we’ll be less than 24 hours away from some answers. Hopefully.
There are now only seven days between us and the hospital appointment which may shed some light on why my 21 month old daughter is still not walking. Or standing.
Since the referral I’ve flitted between absolute unerring hesitation that there is nothing wrong with my child, and the unquestioning certainty that, actually, there is a problem. Continue reading
I was going to call this post, The Day I Didn’t Miss My Daughter’s First Steps. But then I decided to be completely upfront and go with the title above instead.
Because, after hurtling through a whole array of emotions, from elation and joy to despair, guilt and wretchedness, back to elation, I am now at the point of denial.
Being a working mum has it’s benefits, a healthy bank balance and a stimulated mind not least among the working virtues. But, sometimes, it can be utterly rubbish. Continue reading