We shouldn't be afraid to say when we are struggling

I've always been guilty of bottling up my feelings, preferring to just slap on a smile and keep going until things improved/blew over; rather than tackling the problem head-on and talking about what's bothering me.

It's something that, since becoming a mum, I have only become worse at.

I don't like asking for help, I would rather struggle through on my own. The bad days are few and far between now, so I know that once Peyton's asleep and in bed (usually with me not far behind!) a new day will soon be upon us, and everything will be harmonious and happy again.

A couple of weeks ago, Peyton had a horrible chest infection. She started with a little cough, that I thought nothing of, but each day it was getting worse and worse. It was sounding really chesty and her breathing wasn't right, either. I took her to the doctors on the Monday and she was given antibiotics (which were a nightmare to give her!). On the whole, while she was poorly, she was still her usual happy, smiley, cheeky self.

That is, until the Thursday of that week, when it was like she had been swapped overnight. She was such hard work that day.

I was already starting to feel a bit frazzled. We hadn't been out all week as I didn't want her chest infection/cold getting even worse. Barely a day goes by where we don't go outside, even if it's just for a walk around the block, so it was a shock to the system being housebound. Neither of us liked it.

All day, on the Thursday, she was unsettled. She just didn't know what she wanted, bless her. She cried when I held her, she cried when I put her down. She cried when she was sat up, she cried when she was lying down. She cried when she had a toy, she cried when I took it away. She also refused sleep all day. She was shattered - rubbing her eyes, big yawns and the lot - but she point blank refused to sleep. She would seem fine, happy and content until she realised she couldn't fit both her feet in her mouth at the same time and then the biggest meltdown you've seen would commence.

It was horrible. I'd been on my own with her all day and I was a woman on the edge. Normally that doesn't bother me, I love our days just me and her. But days like this one I could really do with Tom there to tag team with. When it came to giving her her tea, she was beyond any bringing back. She just screamed, put her hands all in it, rubbed her eyes because she was tired, then cried more. I mean, I would too hun - I can't imagine pureed broccoli and peas being smeared in your eyes was all too nice!

I was at the end of my tether and, when I trapped my finger in the high chair clip, I lost it. I burst into tears and picked up a cushion from the lounge and screamed into it. I think it's the first time I've ever done that. It made me feel a bit better, but I felt completely and utterly overwhelmed. When Tom text to say he was on his way home I felt marginally better, I knew it would be over soon and I could go have a bath and some peace and quiet.

So, when he rang me just over an hour later to say he was stuck in traffic and would still be about 45 minutes I lost it. I couldn't cope any longer, so bedtime it was. For us both.

As soon as Peyton starts getting ready for her bath she calms down and whatever was wrong with her is cured. We had a nice, peaceful bath time followed by a cuddle, a book, her feed and, surprise surprise, she was straight to sleep. As I put her in her bed, I burst into tears. She looked so angelic, peaceful and happy.

I could hear her raspy, rattly breathing and her lips were in a pout. And suddenly I felt so guilty.

So guilty for wishing her to go to sleep, guilty for getting so upset, and guilty for feeling like, at times that day, that I couldn't cope. I sat on the bed sobbing (silently, I didn't want to risk waking her!) and posted on my Instagram story the above image. I mentioned how I'd had an absolutely dreadful day and, literally within minutes, was inundated with messages.

I did feel a little bit like that person on Facebook who posts the really emotional, cryptic status and everyone comments "ohhh, you ok hun?" I didn't post them for the attention - in fact, I'd rather not have admitted to anyone that I was having an absolutely shite day - but to show people that not everything is rosy all the time. Social media can be so deceptive, only showing the positives, but I want to be realistic.

As it turned out, everyone who messaged me said their child had been exactly the same that day. So, I came to the conclusion that babies/children are like pets and their moods are affected by the moon.

I still locked myself in the bathroom and cried. Tom was home by this point and if he saw me as upset as I was he would have started the "do you need to talk to someone?" chat again, and that just winds me up even more. At that moment in time, I probably should have talked to him about it. But, honestly, I was so beside myself that I don't think I'd have made much sense. I knew I was just exhausted - mentally, physically and emotionally. I went straight to bed and knew, the next morning, everything would be fine.

We were going to see my best friend and her little girl the next day - going on a nice long walk; our favourite activity! I was so looking forward to it because, not only were we finally getting out of the house, I knew I'd be able to talk to her about my dreadful day.

I can tell Tom when I've had a bad day and, while he listens and makes a real conscious effort to help out more when he knows I feel overwhelmed, he doesn't understand the same. We've always been able to be open with each other, and we've never been ones to really argue. However, since Peyton has been born, we have bickered and argued more than we ever, ever have before! It's mental. Nothing ever lasts, though, and we soon laugh about whatever was bugging us. We are bound by our love for Peyton which sometimes is so strong we bump heads on the most insignificant, unimportant, tiny details. 

Back to my point... I know when I talk to Soph about stuff that I am 'struggling' with that she gets exactly what I mean. She doesn't think I'm crazy, or losing the plot, or a bad mum. She understands when you wish for the day to be over and it be bedtime, only to then want to wake them up and cuddle them and apologise for being exasperated.

After a good seven mile walk, and a pit-stop for a McDonald's en route, I felt like nothing had ever happened. I moaned to Soph, I told her how I'd had the day from hell and Peyton just seemed to cry non-stop all day, and explained how I felt like, for a snap second, I couldn't cope. She knew, straight away, that it was just a one-off and told me I could cope absolutely fine and was doing a great job. As did I, when we got to McDonald's and Peyton was back to being her playful, happy self sitting on the table, trying to drink my drink and trying to play with everything within reach.

My point is, talking about how I felt made me feel so much better. Coupled with the fact, of course, that she was back to her normal self straight away. I think if it had lasted beyond that one day I would have lost the plot. We're so lucky that those days are few and far between. I definitely don't think I would cope if she was fussy like that everyday. 

But, if she was, I would have to swallow my pride and ask for help. My mum is amazing, whenever she has a day off she always sees what we're doing and, if we're free, she comes round or we go out somewhere. Whenever she knows Tom is working late, or if Peyton's not been well or I don't feel great, she offers to come round and help. She always lends a hand without me even needing to ask. Sometimes, though, I should ask.

I'm so lucky to have Soph - I've always said this, but it's particularly true now. Having someone so close to you who has a baby almost the exact same age is invaluable; not just for all the good times, but the bad days, too. No matter how stupid you may think something you are thinking is, you can almost always guarantee the other has thought it, too. We swap mum guilt stories, we reassure each other and we know the other is always there. We talk about the good, the bad and the ugly. I honestly wouldn't be without her.

Having an amazing support network is vital. As much as I love my own space (and when I say my own space, I mean completely taken over by Peyton), and I don't like to talk about how I feel or ask for help, I do crave social interaction some days. It's strange how some days I can be happy to just be me and Peyton, going out of my way to avoid social interaction because I've not showered for a couple of days, brushed my hair for a few more, and have a spot the size of Wales erupting on my chin. Yet, other days, I get so tired of talking to myself and just want to go out somewhere for lunch, shopping or just a walk.

There's no rhyme or reason to it. 

I really, really feel for people who have post-natal depression. It was one of my greatest worries before Peyton was born, that I would be hit with it. On the bad days I do question whether I have aspects of it. I always tell myself that, if I still feel that way the following morning I will ring the doctors or my health visitor. I'm a firm believer in not doing rash things on bad days. If things still seem bad the next day, then act on it. And, of course, after a good(ish, because, let's be realistic, I have a five month old baby) sleep everything that seemed overwhelming the day before seems so insignificant.

Before I get chance to dwell on the trauma of the day before, Peyton's usually done something funny, learnt something new or just flashed me her incredibly cheeky smile and I just feel so full of love and pride I feel I could burst.

I didn't think my hormones could be much more wild than when I was pregnant but, jee-wiz, post-natal hormone are something else entirely!

No matter how bad it may seem some days, it'll all soon pass. Talking is the best medicine; along with a good cry, a nice hot bath and a decent sized bar of chocolate and/or glass of wine.

The One Where Nothing Works

Despite never having Peyton away from my side during the day, and rarely having any time actually on my own, some days do feel very lonely, isolating and completely and utterly exhausting. I wasn't prepared for that aspect of motherhood.

Sure, we kitted ourselves out with half of Mamas and Papas, we got our Snuz Pod and Sleepyhead set up by the bed, and we had enough nappies to sink a cruise ship. The practical side? We had it covered.

It's hard to explain. Unless you've been there yourself, you'd struggle to understand. (Either that, or am I just losing the plot entirely - please tell me I'm not alone here?!)

Before I had Peyton I'd hear mums say they felt lonely and I always wondered "how?" when they had a constant sidekick, a shadow, a friend. But you do.

I absolutely hate spending the day at home all day; especially when Tom is at work and it's just me and Peyton. I'm not saying I don't like spending the day with her, I love our mummy and daughter time. The day just feels so long. I end up feeling mentally drained and totally exhausted at the end of the day from trying to keep her entertained/just settle her in general. Talking to her, playing with her, singing to her, walking around with her on my shoulder, constantly offering her the boob, changing her, winding her... I start to feel like I'm going insane. And what will work with her one day, won't the next. Some days I feel like my life is like that episode of Friends - The One Where Emma Cries. NOTHING WORKS WITH THIS CHILD. 

When we stay home all day she fights sleep like a trooper, and getting her to nap for more than 15 minutes at a time is a real task. I'm always so pleased to see Tom as he pulls up on the drive - "finally, someone to have a conversation with!"

Don't get me wrong, the days when she isn't cranky and grouchy, and is super playful and smiley, are an absolute dream. If I could bottle the feelings I have at the end of those days and sell it, I'd make a fortune. Thankfully, those days are the ones we have the most of. But when we've had days like today, they feel like a distant memory.

It gets lonely just you and a two-month-old baby, though. The visitors soon stop once the novelty of a newborn wears off. You go from having three or four different sets of a visitors a day to nothing - it's one extreme to the other!

The loneliest, most difficult days, are when she is poorly or particularly unsettled. Last week she'd been unwell in the night and was awake a lot in the night - requiring clean bedding, pyjamas etc. - which meant I was exhausted the following day. She was still unwell, still unsettled, and still struggling to sleep properly. We'd both gone through two changes of clothes within an hour of getting up and I knew it was going to be a long, difficult day. There was no reprieve. No chance for me to rest or catch up on the missed sleep because she constantly needing soothing, settling, feeding or cleaning up. I was on the same cycle with her all day and I was so drained.

Today has been another unsettled day. I'm not sure if there's been a particular reason or if she is just 'that way out'. During the brief times she isn't crying, whining, squealing, or screaming she's been her usual cheeky, smiley self. But, my God, the rest of the time has been hard work. I spent almost an hour earlier just aimlessly walking the streets around where we live just so she would nap.

I seriously take my hat off to single parents. I honestly do not know how they manage all day and all night, every single day. I don't think I'd be able to cope.

The worst thing about those poorly days is that you don't dare leave the house incase she has a poo explosion in the car seat or the pram, or projectile vomits all down herself, and you don't take enough spare changes of clothes. And you don't want to socialise with any of your friends and their babies at the risk of passing on whatever it is that has upset her that particular day. So staying housebound it is.

I absolutely love being a mum. It's the most rewarding job I've ever had. I've experienced love I never thought was possible in the last ten weeks and have such a strong feeling of protection over Peyton.

Yet, despite living in this bubble of love, happiness, excitement and adoration, it has suddenly got a bit lonely. We try to get out everyday; even if it's just for a walk into town or to the supermarket, or a drive to somewhere new for a walk around a park. I love the fresh air, it sends her to sleep and it's a bit of exercise for me too (which is deffo needed!)

Many people will probably say to me the answer is going to some mum and baby groups, but they fill me with so much anxiety. I went to a playgroup last week with her and, while it was nice to get out for an hour, I felt it was such a competitive environment. People constantly commenting on everything you say your baby is doing at that age: "what do you mean they did xx at 9 weeks?" or "Oh well my xx was doing that by 8 weeks." It was also completely pointless because Peyton didn't want to play with any of the new toys there. She just sat on my knee for the full hour staring at everyone and everything going on around her. She's genuinely so nosey!

I find some of these groups are breeding grounds for mums to brag about what their little darling is doing and compare them to every other baby. I don't really care if Peyton isn't doing things that another kid was doing at her age. Likewise, I don't care if she's doing stuff other kids haven't been. She's fine, she's happy - I'm happy - and that's all that matters. Why is it a constant competition between mums? It's so unhealthy and I really don't like it.

I've found Instagram, of all things, to be a huge help. There's a whole mum community out there that isn't judge-y, isn't perfect, and isn't competitive. And sometimes it's easier to talk to people you don't know about things that are troubling you than it is people you do. As much as I want to take Peyton to some baby groups for her own development, and for us to have some fun with some new toys and play things, I really can't deal with the competitive, judgemental mums that that they so often attract. Because, even though you can be surrounded by a dozen other mums and their babies, if you feel under scrutiny for your parenting, or your child's development, it can be the loneliest place in the world.

I think Tom is worried when he comes in and she's screaming and I'm just stood there rocking back and forth with her on my shoulder crying as well. He keeps telling me to "talk to someone if needed". In his words, he doesn't want me "to be deppy". I'm definitely not. I'm just exhausted some days. I hope I'm making sense and don't sound like I've lost the plot completely. Honestly, I am fine apart from feeling mentally exhausted some days (today being one of them!)

She can spend a whole morning not settling, not wanting to play with anything, not being soothed, just not playing ball. Yet, as soon as she stops crying and flashes me that gorgeous smile, it's all forgotten.

Tom always does bedtime. It's something we've done since she was born as a time for him and her to bond. I really wanted to make sure they had that special time together, especially with me breastfeeding her. I am always jealous, though, of that time they have together. Bath time is the only time of day where she is totally happy, without fail. She absolutely loves a bath and kicks, splashes and smiles for the entire time.

I love that her and Tom get that special time, but I'm also jealous that the time he spends with her is always when she's happy. He tells me "it's ok, it's normal for babies to cry", but it's all well and good him telling me that when he predominantly gets the happy, smiley, joy-to-be-around baby. When I've had eight hours of screaming, crying and whining to contend with, it's not much consolation to know that "it's normal for babies to cry".

Every night when she's gone to sleep I watch her on the monitor sleeping so soundly. When I go up to bed I just stare at her for ages. I want to kiss and cuddle her while she's all peaceful and settled, and I relish when she wakes up for her feed in the night because she's so snuggly and cuddly. I suddenly feel so bad for not enjoying her so much during the day. There'll come a day where she doesn't want me to cuddle her when she cries, and doesn't want to be near me or on me all the time; so I know I should make the most of it all now (as hard as it can be some days!)

I feel guilty for feeling so exasperated and impatient during the day. I feel guilty for crying when she cries. I feel guilty for wishing, sometimes, I had someone to just come and give me a break for an hour. Not even so that I could go sleep in a quiet room on my own, but just so that I didn't feel like I was going insane on my own. Am I a terrible mum because some days I just want a break from it being all on me for just half an hour? I know for a fact, though, that when I do get that "break" all I will want to do is be back with her because, Sod's law, it'll be the quietest, most settled, she'll be all day! I just can't win!

I absolutely adore being a mum (honestly, I do!) It's a role I've always dreamed of having. It's everything I ever imagined it to be and so much more. It's hard work, of course, but, despite my moaning, it's worth every single second. She's changing so much everyday, learning new things everyday and developing such a cheeky, funny, happy (on the whole) personality. I wouldn't change her for the world and I'd be so lost without her by my side everyday.

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To say that children "benefit most" from being raised by a man and a woman is absolute bullshit

Those of you who have read my blog for some time know that I like to give my opinions on current affairs, topics that are being discussed widely at that time, and generally just hop onto my soapbox every now and again.

When I give my opinions, I don't expect everyone to agree with me. The world would be incredibly boring if everyone thought the same thing, and held the same views on things. Debate is healthy, after all.

However, I am always careful to never offend anybody. I am well aware that everyone is entitled to hold their own opinion on things, it's what makes this country, and this world, special that everyone holds their own beliefs on things.

People like Katie Hopkins make me really mad. They have made names for themselves by preaching these controversial points of view and being inappropriate; targeting individuals and preying on them to try and big up their own profiles.

I don't ever read the Daily Mail, I'd just like to put that out there. I occasionally browse Mail Online, but purely for the 'column of shame' (aka the celeb 'gossip'). So this weekend, the only reason I heard about Richard Littlejohn's latest column was because of the news stories about Center Parcs pulling their advertising with the media organisation because of its content.

Littlejohn went on a lengthy rant entitled 'Please don't pretend new dads is the new normal'. He was talking about the news this week that Tom Daley and his husband, Dustin Lance Black, are having a baby.

Just the title alone made me incensed. 

His claims throughout the article made my blood boil, I could physically feel my blood pressure rising as I struggled to comprehend what this man was saying.

He says, and I quote: "I'd rather children were fostered by loving gay couples than condemned to rot in state-run institutions where they face a better-than-average chance of being abused."

He then goes on to say: "That said, and despite the fact that countless single parents do a fantastic job, I still cling to the belief that children benefit most from being brought up by a man and a woman."

He calls the announcement by Tom Daley and his husband and a "publicity stunt" and goes on to question who the baby's mother is. He's concerned that she has been "written out of the script entirely" and is worried that he doesn't know her identity. He assumes she is a surrogate and refers to women bring treated as "mere breeding machines".

He doesn't know her reasons for having this baby for them. Perhaps she fell pregnant and didn't want a termination, so has put the baby up for adoption. She may have had her own children and want to help give other couples that same blessing. There are so many reasons why women carry children for others and that should be applauded, not criticised. They are doing such a brave, incredible thing and giving the best possible gift to a couple whose one dream is to have a child. What exactly is wrong with that?! 

I'm not sure that's really why he is so bothered, though.

Despite Littlejohn saying "No one is suggesting that homosexual couples can't make excellent parents" he queries why the story has been reported everywhere "without so much as a raised eyebrow".

Maybe, just maybe, that's because we live in 2018?

Why do we need to question the parentage of this baby? Tom Daley and Dustin Lance Black clearly want to have this baby, they clearly have enough love to give him/her, and they are obviously more than ready to be parents.

So many babies are brought into this world everyday to parents who aren't ready for them, don't want them, and give them up, or worse, abandon them. What does it matter if this baby doesn't have a male and female bringing them up?

I know some amazing single parents - both men and women - who provide more than enough love to their children. Absent fathers - and mothers, of course - are a regular sight in our society today. But does that mean that children who come from a single-parent home aren't going to do as well? I don't think so.

Single parents are absolutely incredible and I totally admire them bringing up their babies single-handedly. They give so much love and that's all that matters. Some of the brightest kids I know have come from single-parent homes, it genuinely makes no difference who is loving these babies as long as they get enough of it. So to say that children "benefit most" from being raised by a mum and a dad is absolute bullshit.

Why should it matter if Tom Daley's baby has the love of two dads? Love is love, it doesn't matter who or where it comes from. Children all over the world crave love from one, or both, of their parents. They may be in a family with a mum and a dad, but not get the love and affection they need, deserve or want.

It's 2018, for goodness sake, you can't brand things as 'normal' anymore. 

Littlejohn's article goes on to rant about him not agreeing with a transgender woman breastfeeding her baby. He even uses the word her in inverted commas. *Facepalm*

I am pretty certain that Tom Daley's baby is going to be a much kinder, caring, and loving soul than Richard Littlejohn ever could possibly hope to be. Whether that is down to the fact he has been raised by two men, who knows, but I know who I would rather align myself with. And it certainly isn't a bigoted, arrogant man such as Littlejohn.

All the Daily Mail's reaction to this news is remind us that we aren't all equal yet and, despite the amazing work of so many, we all still have so far to go.

Huge congratulations to Tom Daley and Dustin Lance Black on their exciting news.

How do you know when you've found 'the one'?

I have a feeling, now I have written the title for this post, that I may have written a post with a similar - if not the same - title before. Hey ho, let's explore the topic again, as it's Valentine's!

We've all been there - find someone you think is perfect, invest your time in them, start to fall for them, then have it all blow up in your face.

They're either too clingy, or not showing enough interest; they're too interested in themselves, or too interested in other girls; too pushy, or too laid back - you're probably sensing a pattern.

We've all had our hearts broken, whether we thought they were 'the one' or not. We've gone back to people we've sworn we wouldn't, thinking that they were maybe 'the one that got away' and that they've perhaps changed since whatever went wrong in the first place. Only for it to all swiftly go Pete Tong again.

Yet, somehow, we still manage to see through our previous bad experiences, heartbreaks and bad luck with the opposite sex and find that perfect one person.

When Tom and I first started dating, it came really out of the blue. At first, I was just happy to reconnect with an old friend - someone I hadn't spoken to for a few years. We'd lost touch during uni, so it was nice to catch up.

That is, after the initial embarrassment on my part of Tom telling me to text him, only for me to admit that I had, in fact, deleted his number. Awks.

He asked me on a date but, after realising I had literally just applied for a job in the same office as him, I politely declined.

I didn't want to potentially end up starting a new job with any awkwardness or weirdness - particularly after learning that the office was just me, him and one receptionist!

He'd asked me out on dates previously, on more than one occasion. Reading back through our old Facebook messages is a hilarious pastime.

Him forever asking me out - to the cinema, for food etc. - and me coming up with reasons to say no, excuses not to go and just generally rejecting him while still trying to be polite.

After rejecting him yet again, he still persisted. God bless him!

He said he would come round to mine the night before my interview to help me prep. I'm not naive, I knew he'll have had a hidden agenda. I said yes, because I really wanted the job, but I made sure he didn't get any signals from me.

He turned up and I'd just got out of the shower. My hair was wet, I had no make-up on, and I was wearing a mint green onesie. I hardly screamed 'sex appeal'.

Anyway, long story short, I didn't initially get the job. I was really gutted, and Tom said he would take me out to cheer me up. Nothing like striking while the iron is hot, ey TK!

We went to the cinema to see The Other Woman and got some food. And it was really, really lovely. From there, we started seeing more of each other. Spending more time together, going on dates and hanging out all the time. It was so, so nice.

A few weeks later I got a call to say I'd got the job. I couldn't believe it - I was starting a new job where I'd already slept with my only other colleague. Great start, Nat!

I was sceptical about us carrying on seeing each other incase anything went wrong and it was mega awkward. It never goes well for me spending loads of time with one person. I get very agitated and fed up very quickly. However, I persevered, as things were going really well between us and I genuinely couldn't see why anything would be awkward if things didn't work out. We got on really well and had been friends to start with, so it could just be something we'd laugh about.

Anyway, this time, it worked! I couldn't spend enough time with him. Even after seeing him every day and every night for weeks, I missed him the first night we were apart.

And that's when I knew.

The fact I still wanted to see him, for the 50th consecutive day, told me everything I needed to know.

Everyone has a different moment when they know. But when you know, you know.

Whether it's someone you've known for years, a friendship that has developed into something more, or a person you've met for the very first time. You never know when your first kiss with someone might become your last ever 'first kiss'.

I have kissed a lot of frogs in my time, but I wouldn't change any of that if it meant that I still ended up with Tom at the end of it. Of course, I'd rather have saved myself the hassle and heartbreak along the road and just gone out with him when I was 17, when he first asked. But, who knows - if I had, would it have worked out the same? Probably not, especially with the distance of uni being thrown into the mix!

Everything happens for a reason, after all, and I couldn't be happier with how we found each other and things worked out.

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Looking back on 2017

This year has just been the most amazing year.

When I am old and grey, I will look back on 2017 as one of the best years of my life; I am sure of it.

It's just been full of the most beautiful and amazing memories, good news and amazing opportunities for not just Tom and me, but our closest family and friends too.

Of course, as well as Tom and I getting married, we watched our best friends and favourite couple - Soph and Paul - get married too.

My brother got engaged, Tom's sister got engaged, and it was happy times for more of our best friends as Hattie and Jamie got engaged.

This year has just been the year of the celebration. It's no wonder there are talks of a prosecco shortage making Mail Online!

I decided to take a look back at some of my 2017 highlights, with some of the best people in the whole, wide world.

My hen party started it all off, back in March, and was just a laugh a minute from start to finish. I couldn't be more thankful for the gorgeous group of girls that I have in my life who helped me celebrate becoming a Mrs in style on the wet weekend in Holmfirth.

Then, of course, there was our wedding which was just amazing. I will cherish the memories from that day forever. We are so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such supportive and loving friends and family who helped make our wedding day perfect in every single way.

Fresh from our nuptials, Tom and I headed to Northumberland. We spent the most gorgeous week tucked away in a little cottage on the coast where we ate lots of food, watched all the Harry Potter films, played chess, and drank lots of wine.

It was then time to turn our attention to another big day - that of my number one girl and best friend. Her hen party! We headed to a spa in the Dales and had the most fun weekend ever. I've never felt so pampered, and so drunk, all at the same time. We made so many memories that weekend that I will treasure forever.

A few weeks later and there was another celebration in the form of Jack and Amy's engagement party! They got engaged in Mexico about a month after our wedding. It really was the Mexico Dream after all!

Literally, the next day, we were at Selby Abbey celebrating our lovely neighbours getting married. James and Chloe have been planning their wedding pretty much the same amount of time as us, so it was lovely to share their day with them and see all their plans come together.

August was the turn of Mr and Mrs Duck. The most perfectly gorgeous day which was full of smiles from the second we opened our eyes that morning. Soph looked like an absolute angel and was the most beautiful bride I have ever laid eyes on. So effortlessly beautiful and just the happiest, most lovely couple ever. I still get emotional thinking back on the day now!

With Soph and Paul safely back from their honeymoon, we headed off on ours. Dubai and Seychelles were just the two most amazing places. We had the best time ever, saw some of the most beautiful, most amazing places on this earth, and made enough memories to last a lifetime.

As if that wasn't enough excitement, two days after getting back from honeymoon we found out we were pregnant. A little baby Kershaw is on the way!

Not quite content with that being it for celebrations and excitement for one year, we've still got so much to look forward to in the shape of Christmas.

Jack's fiancee, Lauren, is flying over from the States for Christmas and New Year, we're having a huge family Christmas Day with my family and Tom's all coming together to celebrate, and we're in the process of planning a lovely New Year with our best friends and fellow newlyweds Mr and Mrs Duck.

2017 has been amazing for Tom and I, and our closest family and friends. It's been full of love, laughter, and dreams coming true for so many people that we love and hold dearly. We can't wait to see what 2018 brings, with baby Kershaw's arrival being just one of the highlight on our calendar already.

2018 has got a lot to live up to, but I am pretty sure it will be just as amazing, if not even better.

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