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The Little Lilypad is a lifestyle blog mostly written by a mum to two beautiful, cheeky and entertaining daughters. It is sometimes written by the Man on the Pad or by one of our baby bloggers. Occasionally we accept guest posts too. There is frequently talk of shoes and clothing (we love fashion and savvy shopping), chocolate (who doesn't love chocolate) education and swimming (we love this too). It is hopefully helpful, sometimes funny and always honest.

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Love Is .... ever changing

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Today's Love Is ... post is from Cas who blogs over at Mummy Never Sleeps. (this post made me cry a little, so get your tissues ready)

After growing up reading smutty books and watching hideously bad romance films I was really way too young to be exposing my innocent mind to, I wanted a piece of that love cake, like really wanted some. Longing for someone to want me and need me and maybe all the boring stuff in between.

I spent a LOOOONG time feeling completely unlovable, that I was damaged goods beyond repair and that anyone who may cast a curious glance my way would soon realise I was simply too much hassle. Lonely. Desperate. Hopeless. The usual angsty, woe is me shizz.

However, when love did come storming into my life. It scared the pants off me. What was this I was feeling? Why had I been waiting for it, WILLING it to come for so long? It was frigging terrifying, and new and I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

So extreme was my reaction that I spent my whole pregnancy with my darling son, Bean, and up until he was about 3 months old, single. No don't worry, I'm not looking for pity, I realise I was a total idiot. I knew I was being an idiot at the time and that I was hurting us both, plus almost certainly killing any future we may have had together. My (then) ex missed out on hugely special moments of my pregnancy because I was too scared to see him, for the feelings I knew it would stir inside me. He missed our baby kicking for the first time, he missed all those moments when Bean would get hiccups and my stomach would jolt and shudder unpredictably. He missed my entire labour. But he also missed all the boring bits. And I'm ashamed of that to this day, that my selfish need to run meant he missed those moments.

But I couldn't keep pretending I didn't feel the things I did, it was impossible. Once the three of us were together, none of that mattered anyway. Nothing did. Just us.

Love is, to me, an ever-changing thing. It changes colour and shape and smell and meaning constantly. It can be simply terrifying, it can be completely euphoric, it can be mundane and frustrating. It can keep you grounded and give you a reason to just be and to get out of the warmth of your bed each morning. It can make you soar, make you fight and keep you awake at night.

But ultimately, at the end of the day, love is this:

Cassie

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