Stepping into Motherhood
We were so ready for Aurora to come into our little world. After a couple of heartbreaks, finding out I was pregnant with her—my little rainbow—didn’t quite feel real. Not until she was in my arms.
Pregnancy during a pandemic, with lockdowns and isolation, looked nothing like I imagined it would. But it’s ours. Our own little story. Quiet, strange, and special.
Her birth? Gosh… not the dreamy kind. But the moment she arrived, the moment I saw her, the kind of love I felt—I’d never known anything like it.
She turned our lives upside down at exactly 1:06pm on a bitterly cold Friday afternoon, just four days after Daddy’s birthday.
From day one, nothing about motherhood looked the way I expected. I gave her my soul—and still do—and she held my whole heart. But it was harder than I ever thought it could be. Breastfeeding, sleep, the crying, the hormones... it all felt relentless at times.
I can still feel the ache in my back from bouncing on an exercise ball for hours, with her in a sling, just trying to soothe her. Anything to make her feel safe.
She didn’t sleep for—well—years. And somewhere in the middle of caring for her, I had to learn how to care for myself again, too. To get to know this new version of me. Everything had changed—from the way I felt, to the way I dressed, to the way I moved through the world.
I never pictured myself as the co-sleeping, responsive, super-attached kind of mum... but that’s who I became. And in all the best ways, I surprised myself. I turned out to be exactly who Aurora needed.
Looking back, it’s kind of funny that I thought I’d go back to work when she was just three months old. In reality, I didn’t leave her with anyone but her dad until she was 13 months.
Some people didn’t understand my choices—but I look at her now, and I see this strong, spirited, hilarious little girl, full of love and confidence, starting school this September. And I know—I was part of shaping that.
She’s slow to let new people in, but when she does, she loves you deeply. She doesn’t do anything by halves. She knows her mind, and she’ll never let anyone lead her away from it.
Our umbilical cord may be gone, but the bond between us is woven so deeply I know it will never fray. No matter where life takes her, no matter how many friendships and relationships she builds, a piece of my soul will always be with her—and hers with me.
She made me the mother I was always meant to be. And for that, I’ll be forever grateful.
I don’t know if the world is ready for her spark—but I know she’s ready to light it up.
She’s always had an old soul. From the very moment she arrived, I felt it. Like she’d been here before—like she already knew the story and she was here to tell it to me.
Love Multiplying
Our little Margo—one of the biggest surprises of our lives.
Just as I was beginning to feel like I’d resurfaced after having Aurora, along came this unexpected, magical gift we didn’t even know we needed.
She was born on a frosty Tuesday at 8:51pm, on my sister’s birthday—just three days before my own.
Bringing her into the world was a whole different journey. I had to really advocate for myself, for the kind of birth I wanted. I educated myself, trusted my instincts, and in the end, I was gifted a truly magical, healing birth. Alongside that birth came the sweetest soul I’ve ever met.
Margo and Aurora are so different—but in all the best ways. Margo is soft and sunny. She radiates trust, kindness, and a sweetness that feels otherworldly. There’s a gentleness in her spirit that slows me down and softens the edges of the day.
And yet, as much of a blessing as she was, the transition from one to two was tough.
Some of the things that overwhelmed me with Aurora felt easier this time—I was more confident, more relaxed in many ways. But the guilt… the guilt was something else entirely.
I felt torn.
Guilty that I couldn’t give Aurora the time and attention I once did.
Guilty that Margo would never know what it felt like to have me all to herself the way Aurora did.
It felt like I was constantly splitting myself in two, trying to love them both fully, all at once.
I tried to keep things as steady as I could for Aurora. So little Margo was coming along to soft play at just two weeks old, snuggled in the sling.
Fast forward to now—she’s running around like she owns the place. Honestly, she kind of does. She’s grown up there, watching her big sister every step of the way.
Margo is so, so lucky to have Aurora. Despite her little world being turned upside down, Aurora embraced her new role with the kindest heart. She has been nothing but gentle, patient, and full of love. Her tenderness toward Margo melts me daily. It’s a love without jealousy—a bond rooted in something deep and natural. Watching them together is one of the most beautiful parts of motherhood.
Having them both with me full-time has been the biggest blessing. I haven’t missed a moment. But I won’t pretend it’s been easy. It’s been messy and beautiful and exhausting and soul-stretching in ways I never expected.
Still—they inspire me every single day. To be better. To grow with them. To soften, to strengthen, to show up again and again.
Margo is my sunshine. She’s trusting, kind, and carries a kind of innocence I’ve never seen before. She’ll go to most people with an open heart and a sweet smile—unless it’s bedtime, of course. Then, only Mummy will do.
And the way they love each other?
It’s something else entirely. A beauty on another level.
Each month brings new challenges, but even more magic, more memories, and more love than I ever imagined.
This is my life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
My girls. Forever and ever.
Before I go into the final part of this story, I just wanted to share something that’s been on my heart lately.
There are so many emotional videos and posts on social media at the moment about how fast kids grow up. And yes, of course, we’d love to slow it all down sometimes—to see that newborn scrunch again, to feel those tiny hands wrap around our fingers just once more.
But I’ve been reminding myself that watching our children grow isn’t something to grieve—it’s something to celebrate.
Because growing up means they’re still with us. They’re not slipping away—they’re becoming. And as long as we lay that foundation of love, connection, and belonging, they’re not going anywhere.
They’re just growing alongside us.
So here are a few little things I’ve done for my girls—ways I’m trying to give them pieces of their childhood to hold onto, in physical, tangible ways:
1.)Make photo albums. Not just of their first year—but continuously. They don’t have to be fancy or filled with professional photos. Just cheap albums and a few prints every couple of months. Trust me, they’ll treasure them.
2.)Keep a keepsake box. I add in scan photos, special cards, their first little outfits—anything that feels like a marker of their early days.
3)Save a little something from each birthday. Especially the milestone ones—decorations, a candle, a note. It all adds up.
4.)Set up an email account for them. Send little notes from time to time—memories, everyday moments, things you want them to know. Then give them the login when they turn 16 or 18, or maybe even on their wedding day.
5.)Write a letter on each birthday. Talk about the year—the good, the hard, and everything in between. Be honest, be tender. Let them see who you were while loving them through every season.
Full disclosure: since Margo arrived, I’ve definitely fallen behind on a few of these (haha)—but I’m still trying. Trying to give them little pieces to look back on. Little anchors to remind them how deeply they were loved and how beautiful their childhood really was.
He is the magic in their childhood
My amazing, handsome husband.
He’s the foundation behind all of this.
If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to spend my days with the girls. I wouldn’t have had the space, the security, or the freedom to even consider changing career paths—let alone follow a dream.
He works so hard and supports us in every possible way. And it was him—he was the one who gifted me my very first camera, giving me the chance to learn, to practice, to fall in love with capturing moments, and to start building this little dream of mine.
He’s the most incredible dad to our girls. His patience is something else—calm and kind in the moments that matter most. He just gets them, and they adore him for it.
He’s the one who puts on puppet shows every night before bed, who chases them barefoot through the garden, who teaches them how to ride their bikes and cheers the loudest when they finally get it. He’s the fun, the steady, the magic in their childhood.
He is our home.