To say that Hector wasn’t planned is a bit of an understatement. Those of you who read our sister blog Rock My Style will probably already be aware of the situation which resulted in my pregnancy; suffice to say there was copious amounts of gin and a mafiosa outfit involved…

What I’ve not really touched on until now is how I felt on seeing that bright blue cross appear on that fateful pregnancy test two days after my birthday two years ago. I hope that I can, as much as I’m able to, accurately express the rollercoaster of emotions that came with finding out that I was going to be a mama.

I will never quite forget the look on the boy’s face when I announced I was pregnant. We hadn’t exactly been ‘trying’ and although I knew I wanted kids ‘some day’, for me it never seemed quite like the right time. Don’t misinterpret me, we were both keen; after all we had just recently collected the keys to our second home and were in the midst of a full scale house renovation in hopeful preparation for a family in the not so distant future. Future being the operative word here. I am, you might say, one for a ‘plan’.

So when, almost two months to the day after stepping foot in our new home, I found out that I was pregnant I panicked a bit. Actually ‘panicked’ is putting it mildly. I’m the first to admit that my initial feelings were not all-consuming joy. Instead the worrier in me leapt to the fore and started to take over. What would happen with the house? Would it be ready in time for the baby’s arrival? What about taking time out from work? How would we afford me taking the time off? I mean this wasn’t part of the plan…at least not at this stage of the journey. And that was just the practical, logistical side of things.

Looking back I can see that I was bloody terrified, bizarrely not at all about the labour side of things, but about the possibility of being a mum that would be found ‘wanting’. Essentially being a mum that got it all wrong, thus screwing up aforementioned child in the process. As a self-proclaimed perfectionist ‘getting it wrong’ makes me break out in a cold sweat.

And then came the guilt. The guilt that I shouldn’t be feeling this way. That I should be dancing on moonbeams, especially when there are so many women desperate to have their own child but for some reason or another aren’t able to. I felt shamefully selfish and more than a little bit embarrassed about all these self-absorbed emotions.

It took a reassuring ‘mum talk’ from my own mama, happy tears from both of Hector’s grandpas and a car crash to put everything into perspective. Thankfully the car crash wasn’t significant enough to cause any harm although it did occur on the morning of the day I was to tell Charlotte and Adam that I was pregnant and I pretty much turned the air blue with expletives aimed at the other stupid stupid driver. It was then that I knew I’d fight to the death to keep him safe, that I well and truly wanted to be a mum. That my baby was my absolute world.

So what have I learnt? Blimey where do I start?

To detail each and every lesson is another post in itself so in the interests of keeping this post shorter than War and Peace I’ll try to summarise succinctly.

You will get it wrong, you’ll make mistakes along the way and there really will be tears over spilt milk (the expressing stories I’ll save for another day!). And that’s ok, it’s not the end of the world and you’ll both survive to live another day and perhaps all the better for it.

The house wasn’t ready for us to move into before Hector’s arrival. In fact it still isn’t and we’ve been encamped at my mum’s for a wee while now. Whilst I CRAVE my own space there’s a myriad of benefits to living with your family; we have an in-built support network, live-in babysitters and at least four extra pairs of hands to utilise as and when we need them. Hector has spent every day of his life so far with an ‘on-set’ adoring audience of family members that praise his every move. I know we would have found the transition from a dynamic duo to a family of three all the more difficult without them at our side.

Plans are made to be broken; god this was a hard lesson to learn and I still rail against this every single day. But life is what you make it and it’s super important – especially when you’re a parent – to be able to adapt to what life brings to the table. And it’s not always a bad thing either.

You get by with a little help from your friends…By sheer coincidence two of my bestest friends announced that they were pregnant and due within two weeks of Hector’s birthdate. Another had her baby just three months before Heccy was born; these girls have been by my side since I was eight and I just couldn’t have got through this amazing journey without them. We’re closer than ever because of it.

So there we have it. I’m a mum, granted slightly earlier than planned, but a mama nonetheless. And you know what? I absolutely love it. Perhaps subconsciously I knew this would be the case all along – the picture above is one Anna Clarke captured on a Rock My Style photoshoot when I was three months pregnant but yet to tell anyone… I look pretty darn happy about it.

How did you feel when you found out you were pregnant? Overjoyed? Apprehensive? Full of anxiety? Was it planned or unplanned? Were you trying? Why not tell us in the comments below…