I booked myself and my baby into a facility and now, I'm a new person.

But let's rewind a few weeks.

There I was in the birthing suite, holding my soft, slimy baby girl on my tummy in utter disbelief of what had just happened. I looked up from her over at my husband Alex. His amazed face is a snapshot in my memory.

I should be feeling grateful, thankful that I'm pregnant. Over the moon. Oozing with anticipation. There are women all around me who would give their left arm to be pregnant.

Dear Emmie,

Do you remember singing me that lullaby? When I was little and couldn’t sleep? I remember. And I hope I never forget.

When Mum told me she was going to do 'web dating', first, I corrected her: 'It's called online dating'; and second, I told her (in probably an insensitive way) that she was too old to date.

When I handed the positive pregnancy test to my fiance Alex, his reaction was reassuring. His face beamed with disbelief and love. His excitement was paired with a strong sense of readiness. Why didn’t I feel this way?

The diagnosis that changed my life forever.

In 2018 I fulfilled my long-held dream to travel to New York with Ness and Sha, two of my closest girlfriends at the time. That trip proved to be an important turning point in my life.

I rebelled against my parents’ views when I first got married 11 years ago, but four weeks ago I realised that I had an opportunity to show my son a different way.

Since becoming a single mum three years ago, the dating juggle (and it IS a juggle!) has brought its fair share of challenges.

After coming out of a seriously crappy time post-break-up last year (by that I mean a mini-breakdown), I’ve spent the last eight months in many therapy sessions, debriefs with girlfriends and dived headfirst into some deep, uncomfortable work on myself.

I have been feeling increasingly anxious about homeschooling. As a mum of a new preppy, I’ve been disappointed that my boy’s introduction to education has been so disrupted.

For us singles, dating in a time of coronavirus is proving to be tricky. There is now no meeting up at bars, no social gatherings and strict social distancing rules. How in the world can you pursue a relationship in its early stages if you can’t even share a hug, let alone a first kiss?

There’s no doubt this is a challenging time, impacting us on so many levels. At times it feels like a bad sci-fi film or a dream. But it’s our reality.

Last year, I was in a great space on Valentine’s Day. This year, however, I’m spending February 14 newly single and nursing a broken heart.

Today you will put on the classic oversized uniform and your massive empty backpack which is bigger than your whole body. What strikes me about this image is how big everything is; I ask myself, how will you ever fill it all up?

Since those two lines appeared on the pregnancy test six years ago, my fierce, mama-bear instinct has been to protect my son at all costs.

Most parents know that dreaded feeling when your house goes eerily quiet on a Sunday morning and upon further investigation, you uncover a disaster scene of secret kids’ business.

So here’s how it goes. Lights on dimmer, kids toys put away (#dickkiller). Fresh sheets, bluetooth speaker charged with playlist ready to go.

Dirty hair in a top bun, the same leggings I’ve had on all week and a screaming hungry toddler tugging at my leg while I unload the dishwasher.