Miscarriage – A Taboo Topic

Miscarriage. It happens..a lot. But rarely spoken of. Why? Does it make people feel uncomfortable? Is it because people don’t know what to say? How to respond? Or maybe it’s because of something entirely different.

The statistics of miscarriage are actually quite alarming, to me anyway. Someone that you know – has probably suffered from one, and that’s heartbreaking.
Although I was told from a young age, that it would be very difficult to fall pregnant, I was able to – and I sometimes feel so guilty about it. Which makes me all that more grateful.
We decided to try for another baby towards the end of 2015. With no success for a while – but I remained grateful because of our first.

One morning, I decided to take a test. POSITIVE!! I was so excited. I took another to confirm. I decided to make a trail for my fiancé to find when he got home from work. He followed all the clues and found the tests in his PS4 game drawer.
After the excitement – we agreed on the 12 week rule.  A week or so later, I lost it. It – because we will never know what she\he was.
We didn’t speak about it.  Not really to anyone.

In a short amount of time we had; two miscarriages, one unconfirmed  – I just knew- and a false positive test – why the fuck does that even exist?

‘It could have been worse, you could have been further along’ ‘It happens’ ‘Just try again’.
As much as I do understand that yes, it could have been a lot harder.. it was still hard.
The way people come off, when you have an early miscarriage, is that you shouldn’t be sad. You’re kind of denied the grief because people act like it’s no big deal. I think that’s one of the hardest things – feeling like your sadness is insignificant.

I sort of shut off and neglected my feelings. When I managed to fall pregnant with my youngest, I was at the antenatal clinic and they said ‘sorry about your previous loss’ I replied with. ‘Oh no, that’s okay, could have been worse.’
It was kind of an automatic response. To just shut off, and pretend it was all good.

Miscarriage is shit. It feels shit, and I think it should be okay for people to talk about it when they need to. No matter what stage it happened.
If you don’t know how to respond to someone that’s talking about it – that’s okay, just listen. Give them your ears and your heart. There’s nothing better than having someone that listens in order to understand rather than listening, simply to respond.

Take a deep breath. Cry if you need to, talk if you need to. Accept your grief – do not ignore it.

A Letter to a Younger Self


Hi me, how are you?
Look, I already know the answer. BUT let me just give you some advice and tips from here on out, okay?

First things first –

Mate. I can tell you right now, you end up throwing so much money away and you’ll feel like a total dumbass. Stop being lazy and just peel it off the brown paper bag, okay? Okay cool.  Mum and dad don’t put in a $10 note for a $4 lunch, for you to throw the rest out. Take it home – ask if you can have a tin to put it in. 

Everything will be okay.
YOU will be okay.
Yeah the sun does set, but it rises again – just like you.
The dark days will and, do, suck, don’t get me wrong,
but boy, oh boy, the bright days are worth it.

Love yourself. Don’t be a jerk about it, but love yourself enough to know your worth.
In saying that, help people always, but don’t get upset when they don’t help you.
That’s just the way some people are, and that’s fine.
You remain you.


DO NOT SHAVE/CUT YOUR FRINGE– oh you might have already. If you haven’t – DON’T. You’ll have school photos a week later and it’ll be horrendous. Hilarious but terrible. Actually, scrap that all. Do it – it’ll be funny, but don’t tell mum I said to though, okay? Only because you’ll sound crazy.
Also – hole-punching your hair won’t work how you think it will.

Try. Don’t worry about the opinions of those that are around you. Try at athletics carnivals, who gives a crap if you’re last? At least you had a go. Trust me. Not having a go is a lot worse than “embarrassment”. You shouldn’t be embarrassed anyway!

Some of the people that you think are going to be by your side ‘forever’, won’t be there – at all. You’ll be sad about it sometimes, but then realise that you can sometimes miss the memories but not necessarily the people. People do change – and we are one of them. Let me tell you – we change so much.  But we take a complete different path than the one that we thought we would.

ENJOY YOURSELF. Don’t stress so much about how you look. Honestly – in what will feel like forever, you’ll look back and feel like you wasted years just stressing about yourself. See how stupid that sounds? Just be comfortable with yourself. If you wear something because you think it makes you look better, but it feels like wearing barbed wire or like wearing a potato sac– take the fucking thing off and go put on your damn tights. Stuff people’s opinion on your exterior, it really is what’s on the inside that counts. Look – we are still trying to take our own advice with that.

Laugh. Laugh with others, laugh at your own jokes, and laugh at yourself. Don’t cover your mouth every time you smile or laugh. Be confident in your happiness. 

Don’t drink the rest of the, straight, southern comfort all at once before Maths. It’ll go straight to your head and you’ll get suspended. Idiot, who does that? 
Maths really isn’t that bad… just kidding we still hate it.

You’ll get pain. You’ll have surgeries. You’ll have the whole community help you get one of the said surgeries and THAT, my dear me, will change your outlook on things – forever. Don’t be scared – say what you need to.
Family definitely isn’t always blood. I believe you can choose your family, I don’t care what anyone says.  

DON’T CUT UP MUMS NEW BATH MATS JUST BECAUSE SHE ANNOYED YOU. You’ll seem like a real psychopath. 
DON’T THROW AWAY FRIENDSHIPS because another one of your friends doesn’t like them. 

Keep in touch with people. I miss so many people that I never kept in touch with. I shut off when I got to a certain point and I wish that I didn’t. 
BUT – don’t be the only one that makes an effort. 

You’ll do great, kid. 
Just don’t eat all the food and stop hiding it under your mattress and in your drawers – mum will find it and will forever tease you about your food hoarding.

Enjoy life, take risks, snatch opportunities and always be yourself.



It’s Just a Letterbox


I wait.
I see the mail arrive, and I wait.
‘Just go get it man,’ I tell myself.
I sit down on the lounge, I look at the time.
I open my blinds a crack and have a peep around.
“Mum, what you doing?”
I look over at my eldest who is eagerly waiting, thinking
that someone must be visiting.
“Oh nothing. Thought it was raining” I lie, as the back door is open
because it’s a sunny, beautiful day.
I wait.
I go about my day, but I wait.
I wait for poor manchild to come home from work,
and just like every other day, no matter what time it is when he gets home,
he checks the mail and brings it inside, on his way in.
Ahhh the relief. I didn’t have to get it.

I realise it’s just a letterbox. Not even that far from our front door. But for some reason, these days, it seems a long ass way a way.
When I do, on the rare occasion, muster up enough courage to check it, I put on a cardigan, no matter the temperature, wash my face, redo my hair and try so hard to not look at anything else besides the mailbox.

It’s crazy isn’t it? How something so small to one person, can be a massive thing to another?  I never really thought about things like that, until  I was the one feeling these weird anxieties. I guess you would call them that. Some may understand, and others , will just think I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m sure in time, I’ll be fine with that. Because I was one of those people that kind of thought, wow, that person’s just crazy.

Being brave- doesn’t always mean the same thing to people. You might think jumping out of a plane is brave, another might think that going to the printer at work is brave. No matter what your idea of brave is – own it.
Which brings me to my challenge.
Getting that damn mail.

I am going to get that mail today. I am going to go out there in my clothes, that are covered in my kids breakfast and baby dribble, I am not going to redo my hair. Yeah, I’m still going to wear a cardigan – but hey, one step at a time, right?

Challenge yourself.
Whether small or large.
Want a promotion at work?  Get off Facebook for 10 minutes and send those emails. Yeah I see you doing the sneaky Facebook scroll, it’s all good – pretty sure your boss would be too.
Want to save money? Put all of your $5 notes in a safe place and don’t touch for at least a couple of months – I need to take my own advice with that one.
I’m sure you all get my point.

Small steps, amazing destination.
Enjoy your day, and let me know what challenges you decide to put up for yourself!!

Welcoming a New Start

Another night of binging Netflix, scrolling facebook and stalking fit people on Instagram, oh yeah, I better not forget the occasional google – “can I become rich by eating donuts and having naps?”. Every morning, a little bit of regret gushes over me. I wouldn’t be this tired if I would just go to sleep when the kids did.

Welcome to me. Want the run down? Probably not but here it is anyway, it’s okay you can skip it, I promise not to be offended..maybe..not offended much.
My names Kasey, 22 years old, two daughters and a fiancé/manchild. I’ll introduce you guys to my family a bit later on.
I stay home with the girls, typical 1950’s. Except I suck at organisation, don’t wear an apron and manchild helps out heaps when he can.
I’m insecure as hell, nervous, honest and to be frank, I’m not quite sure what else. See, the whole reason I’m starting this, is not just because I’ve always wanted to, but it’s because I need to.

I’m the kind of person who will stare at a message for at least 30 minutes before sending it, adding a haha even when I’m being serious. The kind of person that will judge myself, but not someone else. All too often people are their own worst critic, and I’m trying to learn to be my number one fan- confident, but not a cocky asshole.
I want my daughters to love themselves, but how can they learn to do that, if their mum stares in the mirror for an hour pulling at her clothes and changing her outfit 5 times? Monkey see,  monkey do. Also the type that doesn’t do certain things, in fear of being a bad mum. I have much to say, which is another reason why this will help.

I want to share my journey, my life, so that it may help another. If there’s anyone at all that can relate, anyone that can get a bit of motivation or even just for something to do at 2am in the morning when they can’t sleep, then how great is that!?
I need to share this so it’s out. Out for the world to see. Out for people that hate or like me, for those that I do and don’t see, do and don’t know. You get the point.
I need to share this to help me overcome all the things that I always say I’m going to, but never do.
I need to share this so that I can find me. So cliché, yes I am aware.

Being comfortable in your own skin is actually so hard to do. I use to get annoyed by confident people and now I admire them. It’s funny how your perceptions change of others when your view of yourself changes.  Typical problems with weight, parenthood, anxiousness and down right silly phobias, I will conquer- I will TRY. Try being the key word because, simply trying, is a big step for me. But, I need help, I need a venting area, a place where, hopefully, someone can read and relate too. ‘Why don’t you just get a diary or something?’ Well because I’ve tried that already. Maybe, just maybe, having this ‘blog’, public, so that any Billy, Bob and Susan down the street can read it, will motivate me. Motivate others too. That’s what I hope for, but if not then boo that sucks, at least I tried, right??

If you’re still reading this, thank you. If you would like to follow the journey, please do so. If not, that’s fine too.  This is just a start line, I hope you’ll be there for the finish!

Im actually freaking the hell out typing this because I’m so afraid of peoples opinions, its crazy. But in saying that, it’s one of the main reasons I’m doing this. To get the fuck over it.
Will I actually post this? Who knows.
 – Oh look, I actually did.