Twenty weeks pregnant today.

Half way.

Now I’ve done f-all to contribute to this, consciously, it is merely a passing of time. But being half way feels like a massive achievement.

If asked now I could not even begin to describe how awful this pregnancy has been, but I do know there were times when I felt more ill and more low than I ever have before and I know that these times went on for months. I know that every day felt like four days. Time dragged. Time hurt. I have felt fobbed off and disbelieved and thoroughly let down by the healthcare system and others. I have vowed to never ever do this again.

Thankfully I’ve now forgotten how the physical symptoms felt, but I will never ever forget the thoughts that I thought and the impact that this nausea had on me. I’ve been left with mental scars.

Half way and feeling closer to normal. Not normal – still medicated (and I have been medicated every day of this pregnancy) and nausea symptoms masked rather than gone – but nonetheless I can have some sort of normal life now. Time passes normally. Things happen and I’m involved in them.

I never ever thought I’d get here. Being half way and being on the down hill towards the end goal. It just didn’t seem possible.

I can’t believe it, this is a day to celebrate.

I’m hopeful that the second half will be better. It has to be, surely?