The moment my husband and I decided to start trying for a baby was simple, I was holding my new baby nephew in my arms and I looked at him and said, “, I want one”. He smiled. So it started.
Like most people we thought it would happen quickly and got very excited about the process (wink wink) and what the future was going to look like.
In 2020 I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. I was one of the lucky ones where my diagnosis actually happened pretty quickly after starting to look for the answer to underlying issues. On average, endometriosis takes 7 years to be diagnosed, with countless tests, ultrasounds, and surgeries as the normal process to have this debilitating disease diagnosed.
It’s Monday morning and writing your newsletter is at the top of the agenda for the day. You sit down, open up your Google Doc and then…
Nothing. What are you going to write? Continued communication with your list is important but you’re coming up blank.
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Remember when you were six and your Mum told you it was great you wanted to be a Rocker for Barbie and the Rockers? You should absolutely aim for that, but it would be good to have a backup plan?
Do those posts on Facebook with the chipper ONLY 3 FRIDAYS TILL CHRISTMAS graphics make you want to scream? As if we could forget the end of the year is hurtling towards us.
What stopped you from beginning a business when you first got that inkling you could be bigger and better than your regular 9 – 5 grind?
They have been in business for over 20 years and ‘knew what their clients wanted.’ When I asked ‘ Why is your business failing then?’ I didn’t know if I was about to be kicked out of the door or have to comfort a crying client.
I’d like you to really think about how many times a day you tell others, and more importantly, yourself, that you’re too busy.
I’m Lauren, mumma, blogger, recovering perfectionist and reformed business hustler, sushi aficionado and faux farmer, decaf coffee lover, Endo thriver, hope-holder, Educator, home reno buff who refuses to do business not in jeans and makes a mean ‘picky plate’ while walking the fine line between hard-ass and soft-touch – (un)gracefully.
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