Oh No! Not Another Pregnancy Blog!


Many stories start with the ending and flashback to the beginning for dramatic effect. To give you a taster of what is to come but not allow you to jump in the deep end just yet! 

Most writers write with experience. Lots of them make it all up as they go along but the only difference is that they know how to write before they start jabbering on. 

Thankfully, I will be writing about what I experienced along my journey, so you should be able to make sense of it and I can assure you I will avoid making stuff up because this story can get silly enough all by itself.

Naming The Blog

 “Not Another Pregnancy Book”  became the title of the book I wanted to write for you. But, all that publishing stuff confuses me and I wouldn't know where to begin. So, I'll stick with (drum roll please) …

“Not Another Pregnancy Blog” 

I chose the title because it is what I think every time I pick another pregnancy book up and it has become a famous saying of my partner when another one comes through the post.

I can only assume that this isn’t your first time reading about all that good stuff on the miracle of life and probably not the last. But, either way, I have to get this disclaimer written.


 I am writing about my experience, not through expertise. I will be referring to my experiences and what I have observed around me. I shall be talking you through the silly, the good, the hilarious, the sad and the bad. Like a rollercoaster of baby-making stuff, minus the baby-making stories. Well, maybe I’ll talk about it a little bit but not the “ins and outs of it”.

Cliche I Know..

I have to say that this is a blog for you to read to show that you are not alone. The cliche “you’re not alone” never helps.  But maybe there are parts to my story that have you thinking “Ah so that's natural then? I am not an alien” or maybe “Bloody hell glad I didn’t have to do that” or even “Wow, I might try that”

You may find yourself laughing with me, crying with me, “F-ing and blinding” (swearing with me, for the non-brits) with me and more. 

Read away, but know that I will not be advising you on the who, what, where, whens and hows because believe me when I say that everyone and every story is different. But if you read something and have any questions then please ask medical professionals, not me and don't bloody Google it. Please read my story to know that you are not alone in the good, the bad and the ugly.

Flash Forward (As all the good stories do - teaser teaser!)… 

…Sat here typing now as my belly gets in the way of my trackpad, I find myself adding double spaces or double-clicking and small, internal feet find it whole-hearted hilarious to kick me in the arms as I type. “I shall be proofreading all my work by myself” I sit here thinking… “I'll blame the typos on the babies” 

Oh, and now a foot attacking my bladder, be right back!


Right here is when the story shows “4 years earlier” so…



My partner and I sat on Non-Nuoc Beach in Vietnam on my 31st birthday. Discussing getting started with this baby-making business. I ideally would have started trying around the age of 27, but there is almost a 5-year age gap between my partner and me. So, when I was 27 he was 22 and that was just too early.

Especially the fact that he is Italian. Italy has the highest average age for first child in the whole of Europe. They averaged out at about 32 years old in 2021 alongside Spain. England was around 28. 

At 27 years of age, I was hitting the age where most people in England were about ready to pop out their first or may just be on to their next, whereas my partner was 11 years too young for his ‘average baby-making age’. So, we had a little compromise set that when he finally hits his 27th birthday, I will be 31 and it will be: 

All systems go

Let's get down to business

Let the games commence

Let's get cracking

let’s get this party started

Time for take off!

(you get the picture).

So, back to the point I was making (you may find I sidetrack a lot), I had finally hit 31 years and my partner sat next to me on the beach, watching the sunrise, with his 27 years in his pocket. 

It seemed like a good time to bring it up as it was my 31st birthday that very day and my head was on his shoulder while the Vietnamese were up at 5 am with us doing their traditional exercises on the beach at sunrise before they started their day.

I spoke of how I just couldn’t wait anymore and the years we had agreed had passed, so it was time to boogie!

He looked at me and said "As soon as we arrive home the game is on” 

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