To just miss you.

Sometimes I wish for the innocence of a child. If I ignore it then it will go away, fingers in my ears means I cannot hear it. If I don’t believe then it’s not real.

But it is and I’m not.

My innocence has gone

I tried so hard to hold on but into the ground it went with you.

I mean how do you bury your child then believe the world is a good place?

How does your heart break and you still have hope?

I live a seasaw existence trying to believe through a curtain of pain and missing.

How do I have Hope, when Hope was lost?

It’s been 13 years since I lost you, 13 years to the day the whole world should of ended. How dare this world continue without you a part of it.

Grief is unfair and cruel, spiced with an extra splash of agony.

Time is a healer is the biggest lie, fraudulent words whispering off so many tongues.

I will never accept losing you, your death was not a experience for growth or a period of learning. It’s a evil, awful thing that tortures daily.

Don’t ask me to rise upon it today, today on your anniversary I get to speak my truth. My words not shielded in polite conversation. I’m angry, I’m hurt and I’m furious at God.

Why why why?

Don’t ask me to look at Daniel and be thankful that I have him now. Yes my love for him infinite but one child doesn’t not replace another. Daniel is a unique blessing on his own accord not a replacement for Livvy. That would be unfair to us all. You don’t just pop to the store to replace a child, here you go have a new one,all is better.

Don’t ask me to pretend today, pretend that this world is still a place full of joy and love and light when my brightest light is missing. Don’t tell me she shines in heaven, yes maybe she does but I’m not there and I cannot see it and I’m selfish like that.

Don’t ask me to understand if you have forgotten her or what day this is. Because how bloody dare you, if you were lucky enough to be loved by her how dare you forget that gift.

Screw time moves on or life changes she was a gift that you should forever cherish. I’m not understanding today, not being forgiving I’m raw I’m angry and I don’t understand.

My beautiful beautiful Livvy how can it be 13 years since your light left this world? How can my heart still continue to beat without you. I still feel betrayed by my own body.

I don’t understand why the world continues to turn without you. Why your time was so short? Why why why?

Maybe tomorrow I will find my peace again but today on your anniversary I’m angry, I’m sad and I’m lost without you. 9 and a half years will never be enough.

I know you wouldn’t want pain for me and I do try my sweet child, I do. But the hole in my heart will always be there aching for it’s missing piece.

I know you want me to have joy and maybe tomorrow I will again but today, today I allow myself to be real, to be in truth. To tear down the veil of pretence and grieve you wholeheartedly . To let the missing pour out of my heart, to cry, to shout, to scream, to just miss you my beautiful girl.

To just miss you.

Still

My head hurts, the noise level just seems to be getting higher snd higher.

People talking, screaming to be heard over one another. It really feels like it’s a world of who shouts the loudest, wins.

When did we stop listening, holding out for the sweet silence of a moment. Waiting for the small voice of our intuition to speak to us before we spoke?

Holding our own counsel?

I know I can be the same reacting before thinking. Engaging my tongue before I engage my brain.

I think lockdown has changed me, the silence whilst often isolating was also freeing. I don’t have to be anyone but me, no illusions to fulfil beyond the ones that hold truth.

The quiet, the time to be still. I realise now how much I need it and how much it calms my heart.

I sometimes wonder if my heart is attached to my life the crazier it gets the harder it beats. Yet that would make some kind of sense, yet as I lie in my bed praying for sleep my anxiety has other plans.

I’m breathing deep but insomnia is becoming a fast friend. I know we all have periods of this but recently the noise has begun to hurt my brain.

This is this

This has to be

Covid, petrol shortages, empty food alises. Why does 3am feel the best time to worry about them?

Hospitals struggling, NHS at mass. Drs and nurses once being clapped are now being condemned.

Unfair, unkind, untruth

People reacting without researching, laying blame at the accessible rather than at the feet of those that hide away. Those that hold the responsibility.

Oh mind please

I just want to sleep

I just want to be still.

I see the dawn is coming and before long the sun will rise.

I need some rest

I need my mind to just quieten down.

How do I be still in this crazy world, how can this fallen world learn to stay true?

Joining in with Five minute Friday

Rabbit hole

Have you ever found yourself falling down a rabbit hole, I do often. In fact it’s something I recognise about myself that when something interested me or intrigues me I have to learn more. I can lose hours to learning more, researching and trying to understand.

You see I’m not a face value person, just because someone says it is doesn’t make it true. It’s the reason I have struggled at times with religion, society norms and in general life.

I mean even the history we learn has been written by someone with bias. In fact the way we view life is with some form of bias, our upbringing, the beliefs shared, even the political landscape of our country.

It’s something I struggle with a lot hence the falling down rabbit holes often. I mean if something is said, who said it, why did they say it and where’s the evidence?

I love to read and learn and this is something I’ve always enjoyed but sometimes it would be nice to just say it is because it is.

I often wonder is my brain is strange, the way it views everything with a little mistrust. I really don’t understand people when they quote me the Daily Mail or some other media outlet as truth, I mean come on. You do know journalism is bias from the outset. Be it the ownership or political leading or the blatant scandalisation to sell more it should always be questioned.

But beyond bias I’ve realised that the world is so big that I have hardly touched the surface of my understanding and knowledge. This is exciting and sometimes upsetting I mean I like to think of myself as knowledgable but the reality is I don’t have a clue. I am knowledgable in my small piece of life but my goodness they is so much I do not know. What if I believe something, yet more knowledge would show me I was wrong?

Do you ever feel this way? That you have so much to learn? That you actually don’t know enough?

See rabbit hole.

I often struggle with anxiety and sometimes I do wonder if it’s because I cannot stop the thinking. Throw away comments often get stuck in a loop in my mind requiring research, understanding often beyond what I need to know. Reciting of conversations seems to be a hobby of mine.

My husband frustrates me to my core he doesn’t think past the here and now. He can lose himself in TikTok for hours, get obsessed about a new car and do research for this but when I ask him to think beyond his immediate world he isn’t interested. “Why worry about what I cannot control” or the worst one “just stop thinking about it”. I mean come on as if that’s possible. He frustrates me partly because I would like him to think a little more and share the worry and stress but mostly because I’m just completely jealous.

I’ve always been this way, when I was young and I asked my Granddad a question he would encourage me to either go to the library and read books on the subject or ask others and get a variety of viewpoints. I loved our conversations they could be so random yet always interesting. He never allowed me to view the world one way, he would remind me that everything’s is dimensional and we need to know all the dimensions to make an informed decision, ooh I wonder if it’s his fault my mind has no off button ha ha.

Beyond the sometimes brain exhaustion and anxiety I do love my inquisitive mind. Yes sometimes it breeds anxiety and fills me with fear but I do love my rabbit holes and learning. One life doesn’t have to mean one view of the world, we are a world of so much culture and beauty and yes a lot of darkness and hate but even that grows from a bias, a different view that I maybe cannot understand unless lived.

In the special education needs world we often say that all behaviour is a form of communication but to be honest I think this concept is wider. The way we behave is often based on what we have learned, our actions based on what we believe. Our beliefs start with what we are taught. So the way we behave is communicating who we are.

So to understand one another, we need to understand the lives we each live.

Rabbit hole anyone?

Content

Oh the irony of today’s 31 days of October prompt “content” today I’ve felt far from content. You know those days where your mind betrays you. When you thoughts are telling you that you are useless, mocking all that you are. Convincing you that you are not good enough, you are unloved and unwanted. Also add a awful headache and vertigo and that has been my day.

That has been my day feeling far from content.

I turned to social media asking my friends for the words, quotes, scripture anything that brings them strength because in all honesty I have needed it. Some of their quotes reminded me of my strength, how to breathe, how to be but still I feel lost.

“As rainbows are forged from sunshine and rain, so our lives are a mixture of joy and pain. If we bear with the darkness and learn from it too the rain clouds will part and the sun break through xx”

“Not by might, nor by power but by my spirit says The Lord.”

Zechariah 4.6

Why are our minds so cruel at times?

Contentment felt a myth, something for others but for me.

Then this happened

As this boy snuggled up to me, As I felt his heart beat next to mine,contentment was mine.

I am content.

Care

It’s 3am, I’m exhausted but my son just cannot settle. The awful panic attack he had earlier today at school is fresh in my mind and on my heart. The constant swallowing he is doing makes me realise we are not fully over it. The professionals are calling it separation anxiety, I just call it heartbreaking.

I hate that his history has such an impact of his future. How lack of care can leave such fear?

I’ve read the adoption books, studied to degree level the trauma publications, but none cover him. The complex medical missing in the pages of attachment and trauma. I guess children with complex needs don’t suffer with emotional issues, cue a eye roll of frustration here.

It’s strange but sometimes I feel guilt for not being there at his birth, absurd I know but how my mama’s heart wished he had never to feel unsafe, alone, abandoned. I do wonder if other adopted parents feel this way? I know it’s not rational but love and rationality don’t always go hand in hand.

Oh my heart, how I love my boy, my exhaustion right now pales in my love for this sweet sweet boy. Oh how I wish my love could stop the pain, would take away all fear.

My arms ache, he isn’t a baby anymore, his weight is heavy on my shoulders. His fear is heavy on my heart.

I can hear his breathing now, he is falling deeper into sleep. I need to follow him tomorrow is a busy day.

I’ve spent sometime tonight praying over him, my prayers seem to bring him peace. I ask God to heal his fragile heart, to take away his fear but mostly I give thanks that he found me. Thanking God for the honour of caring for him and the gift of loving him.

Joining in again with five minute Friday.

Intention

Day 2 of #hopewriterlife

Intention

intention

noun [ C or U ]

UK /ɪnˈten.ʃən/ US /ɪnˈten.ʃən/

B2

something that you want and plan to do:

[ + to infinitive ] It wasn’t my intention to

Intention something you want or plan?

Do you want to know a secret?

I’m scared of intentions, even those made with the best at heart. I’m fearful for making plans. It’s something I was trying to work on then Covid came to visit and how many plans have had to change, stop.

Growing up I struggled, I lived with a lot of broken promises, shall we do this next time forgotten by others not by me. Financially issues didn’t always allow things to happen that I could understand but sometimes out of sight out of mind was the stronger inflection.

So when plans were made I didn’t get excited I didn’t trust. So intention is something I hold at a distant.

Being a mom of a child of a complex child I know the best intentions can be easily changed only last week our holiday, our plans were cut short. But somehow that’s different that’s not through disregard or lack of respect.

I seriously struggle to make plans because I know my life circumstances often lead to cancelling or changing and I hate that someone things I cannot be bothered or do not care. So I stay hesitate and often say no in fear.

To me the word intention holds a responsibility to try and so when spoken by others I’m guarded. In therapy my goal was allow myself to get excited and I was almost there then blooming Covid came along.

I do want to know the joy of waiting, the excitement of what’s coming but for now I’m still a long way off but my intention oh the irony is to try.

Desperate

I woke last night screaming, somehow my sleep had become a time machine and I was there again in the hospital begging my child to wake. Desperate to see her chest rise again, begging the Lord to save her.

How can 12 years just disappear in a moment?

Yet I know in grief, time is only my enemy.

I miss my girlie so much, how I wish I could just hold her in my arms once more, to just breathe in the sweet smell of her hair.

Grief is a complex devil, playing games with your heart moment by moment, memory by memory.

Does it ever end?

Only with eternity I guess.

Oh I never knew the heart could survive such pain. The crushing weight becoming bearable against my wishes.

I don’t want to sleep again, I had to leave her once I’m not sure I could do it again.

Why does your memory invade your dreams?

Is there nowhere free from grief?

I couldn’t pretend for a while, I could not create the facade of being ok in those darkness hours. So I let the tears fall and as my whole soul hiccuped through my body I allowed myself to miss her.

I let the memories swarm my mind like a tapestry of bees as they create their honey, I created my moments again. I held her in my arms, I heard her sweet giggle of mischief on the symphony of the night and I breathed her in deep and I sobbed.

I still don’t understand why I had to lose her, why Rett Syndrome had to win the battle for her life. Yet I know it wasn’t for the lack of love. My Livvy, their Livvy, your Livvy was loved with the depths of so many hearts.

If love could have saved her life she would be here.

No the question still stands unanswered, our hearts still forever broken.

I couldn’t breathe anymore the tears had tore my soul and I did fall into an exhausted sleep.

I wake still desperate to hold my daughter once again.

The new day begins,

I trust, I breathe and I hope.

Until we meet again my beautiful girl, until.

Joining in again with five minute Friday, set your timer for five minutes and write.

Let’s banish “I’m fine”

I swear my body and mind are in conspiracy to drive me crazy. My body aches and I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I finally fall into bed and ping, my mind starts its endless racing. Have we done this? Did you remember to do that? What about this? What about that? What happened, what if this happened oh my goodness please stop.

I read a post the other day, a friend not a close friend we haven’t met but someone who matters to my heart reached the darkeness and her world was so dark we nearly lost her to it and my heart broke. Yes the joy of the nearly was full of gratefulness but the sadness that the facade of social media had not let us see their pain.

But it’s hard isn’t it, to raise your hand and say I’m struggling.

I call it my advance and retreat. I try to be honest, to be brave, to be raw then in the morning light my weakeness fuels my shame.

I should be coping

I’m so blesssed

Others have it worse

Be grateful

Others have enough on their plates

Don’t put on others

Stop being dramatic,

This last statement is my core enemy.

My childhood was full of being told I’m to dramatic, to emotional, too much.

Even now the narrative is different yet still hauntingly the same, you care to much, what if doesn’t happen, let it go.

Still shame based observations of my heart.

You see we are all unique and whilst the stiff upper lip is so celebrated it is also the weight that holds so many people down.

We should be taught from an early age to be open and honest. Tender hearts should be celebrated, anxiety understood, overthinkers heard.

Our children should learn from day one that the way they feel is perfectly ok. If it doesn’t make sense to others that’s also fine, that the world would be a boring place if we all thought and felt the same.

But we aren’t are we, our children are taught by rote, uniformed to be, to do, to fit.

To be seen and not heard once held by parental control now often controlled by technology.

Yet we should know better, with the ever increasing levels of mental health issues we should be better.

“I’m fine”’should be banished from everyone’s vocabulary. “Are you ok” should be asked with truthful concern. We should listen deeply and we should take time to care.

Yes the world is a busy place, yet the viewing numbers of the last reality programme proves we have time. Yet it’s easier for us to invest in the loves and lives of those we don’t know because no effort is needed. So yes we have the time or can make time to check in on those that we know and should care better for.

So why don’t we ?

I know I need to do better, I need to reach out more, when a friend goes quiet just check in. But I also need to be honest to create a place when it’s safe to speak our truth.

To not hide behind the illusion that’s I’m ok when I’m not. Someone once told me that they couldn’t speak to me about a problem, they felt that my life as hard at it seems meant that they didn’t wish to put upon me. But also they felt ashamed because I was doing well in my journey how could they complain? This broke my heart, I am far from ok, sometimes I lie in bed and beg my mind to leave me alone. To just for a moment stop thinking, stop torturing me with agony of what ifs or what should be. I’m not ok and maybe if I’m more honest in my struggles and vulnerabilities it will allow the others the space to be transparent with theirs.

Hey, we can not be ok together.

I do not believe we were supposed to live this life alone, but alone it will be if we don’t let those we love know our hearts.

So here’s to being truthful, to banish “I’m fine” and to reach out.

Let’s be better

Let’s do better

Let’s love better.

Drive

I never imagined I would drive, I come from a family of HGV lorry drivers and after watching them manoeuvre those gigantic machines I simply thought“not me”. The responsibility, the awareness needed all seemed out of my grasp.

It’s easy isn’t it to tell yourself that you cannot do it. That it does not happen to people like you, it’s out of your reach, beyond you.

This is what I thought as I sat in the public library one day, no matter how many notebooks I filled with my stories, poems, songs holding a book I had written in my hand was beyond me. Seeing a book I had written on the bookstore shelf well that didn’t happen to people like me.

Well it did and it has, yesterday my first children’s book was released. I’ve got to hold my dream. I’ve overcome my fear of failure, my fear of not being good enough to hold my story in my hand. To allow the dream of my heart to be realised. My hope printed from my soul.

It’s strange as today feels like a game changer, just like the day I passed my driving test (not HGV’s) and the world became larger for me. Today the world feels a little clearer, my mind a little braver and my heart a little stronger.

No more telling myself what I cannot do or what shouldn’t happen to people like me. Im going to dream and dream big and drive forward with conviction, with belief.

Belief in me.

Joining in with five minute Friday

1. Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation. Just write. Write, post then link up.

Strong

“Oh she does so well”

“I don’t know how she does it.”

“She is always in control.”

“She is so strong.”

These words are often spoken over me, as a mom who has faced loss then chose to adopt a child with complex needs people seem to think I’m some kind of superwoman, a special heart, so strong. 

I may be all of those things at times but I have allowed these words to stop me opening up, fearful that in my honesty people would see weakness.  

You see there is beauty in strength but choosing to be vulnerable is one of the scariest things we can do. Allowing our hearts to be transparent, now thats hard. 

Yet I often think strength and vulnerability are the same thing. 

Some days I feel far from strong, I find myself hiding in the bathroom as I let the tears fall. I feel the nausea in my stomach as my legs go from underneath me. 

I feel all of this and in this I am strong. 

When my heart beats so rapidly in my chest and I can barely catch a breath, I am strong. 

In the panic and fear I feel, I am strong. 

Yet I still find myself hiding for fear of judgement, fear of weakness. 

How wrong am I? 

You see life is going to be hard, we were never promised anything different but its in the showing up I realise my strength. 

Yes, adoption is hard, but I show up

Grieving is hard, but I show up

Being a medical mama is hard but I show up

Being exhausted from caring is hard, but I show up. 

Being lost in the anxiety is hard but still, I show up. 

I am strong, I am vulnerable, I am a glorious mess of all these emotions. 

Strength isn’t in not breaking, it’s allowing yourself to fall apart in love.

And then showing up. 

I am no longer going to hide under the words spoken over me but I do choose to stop them allowing myself to be honest. 

I refuse to allow the fear of being weak stop me from being vulnerable. 

My weakness is my strength 

In my fear I am strong. 

I show up. 

Writing again in the Five minute Friday link up.

Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation. Just write.