Celebrating the gift of motherhood.

Mother’s day is a day of celebration, a day where we honour the bond of a mother and a child. The period of time you are a mother is irrelevant. Physical birthing isn’t a necessary. Motherhood is about loving someone more than yourself. Living and breathing for their dreams to come true.

I adore being a mother, from the moment I knew I was carrying my first child in my womb my heart has loved hard. I’ve made mistakes, I’ve messed up and I’m sure I still will but my children are my life, my world.

One of the hardest things I have faced as a mom is letting go, watching my children grow and flourish and become Independant and assured. Seeing them bravely love, suffer, face heartache and rejection. The overwhelming urge to take them away from painful situations, to stop them before they try. Yet as a mom I’ve had to let them be, to live is to learn.

I am a mom to four amazing daughters and one handsome son, each one so beautiful and incredible in their own right. Individual with their own needs, wishes and dreams.

My dearest Livvy is in heaven and whilst the veil of this lifetime separates us physically now. No time, space or worlds can separate the love of this Mom from her daughter. My soul craves for my girl, my arms ache to hold her. My heart will be forever missing a piece, beating with a broken melody.

Yet I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Mother’s Day is a celebration and I have a lot to be thankful for. So I’m going to hold on tight to the memories, run forward widely into the future with the knowledge that the greatest role I get to live, is that of a mother.

How blessed am I?

Sorry I couldn’t rise.

I’m not sure where my head has been for the last few weeks, I’ve completely felt a detachment from the world. On the outside looking in. I’ve been falling into an abyss of what if’s, what should of been’s and to be honest a hornet’s nest of why not’s.

Social media has been full of graduations and moving on photos and I’ve just felt angry and raw.

Grief isn’t pretty, it doesn’t come tied in a pretty bow. A ornate basket with a jar of missing tears and bottle of memories.

No grief is a raging ocean, dark, bottomless and threatening to pull you under at the least expected moment and I’ve been drowning.

I feel such a bitch but I’ve scrolled past photos without commenting, without celebrating the achievement because I was angry, I was resentful because Livvy didn’t get to celebrate it.

I couldn’t drag myself up out of the pain to celebrate others when there will be no prom for my girl, no sparkling dress, no fancy shoes.

There will be no graduation for my daughter, she didn’t even get to complete primary school let alone head out of education into the great unknown.

I hate that I’m angry, I’m appalled at myself for being jealous but my goodness missing her hurts In a way I just cannot describe.

There is always going to be moments that are raw, moments that should of been and I’m always going to try and be ok about them but I’m never actually going to be ok with them.

There will always be a Livvy shaped piece in my heart. Always another tear to fall in missing. A breath to be lost in grief.

Rett Syndrome took so much from us, it took Livvy from us and right now I’m tumbling into grief, anger and complete sorrow.

I miss my girl, I miss her so damn much.

So to those who I haven’t celebrated this last few weeks I’m sorry. My heart does sing for your moments, I’m so very proud of all of you and I’m so sorry. Sorry that I couldn’t rise from the depths of missing this time, sorry I didn’t have the strength to pretend.

I just miss my beautiful girl so,so very much.

Bravery ???

I have been thinking a lot about how we view bravery, how often the word is used and how sometimes it can be detrimental rather than encouraging. How people mean to encourage yet in truth can do the opposite. 

I can only write from experience but there are times in my life when I have felt the complete opposite to brave yet have found myself surrounded by people telling me I am.

When Livvy’s was diagnoses and I found myself facing life with a child with a complex disability so many said,  “you are so brave” “ I don’t know how you cope” all statements were being said to encourage and celebrate me. Yet I was far from brave, I so wanted to run out of my life, to pick up Livvy and live in a world where disability could not enter. A world where Rett Syndrome was banished. I wasn’t brave, I was surviving the only way I knew how, encouraged by the bravery of my beautiful girl.

“I don’t know how you have gone on” this was a statement that haunted me when Livvy died. I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions. It felt like a two pronged comment, my mind actually spiralled for such a long time due to this statement. I mean how have I gone on? Do I not love my daughter enough that I haven’t just given up on life without her, what kind of mother am I? Did I fail her by not giving up? 

Nearly ten years on and I still have no answer on to the question “how I have gone on?” Seriously it has been through God’s grace and the love I have for her sisters and also the innate knowledge that she expected nothing less of me but to live this life fully and that she would certainly kick my butt if I didn’t. I was not brave, I was surviving. 

I still wish people would think before admiring another’s bravery because those words offered in love often becomes a noose around someone’s neck, pulling tighter holding those who so need to admit to being scared, to being vulnerable no safe place to unload. 

Instead please, ask them how they are doing? 

Tell them its ok to be afraid? 

Tell them them they are doing well but don’t ask them how they have got through it, because truly if you are waiting for me to get through my grief for Olivia you may be waiting a long time. 

Be a safe place for people to unload, cast no judgement about where they are at. Just listen, really listen and if you cannot find the words to support just hug them tight. I know there is no answers to the pain, no reason’s to the why but sometimes its just nice to be held. It’s not ok and it may never will be, but I am not alone. That means more than words. 

[inlinetweet prefix=””Allowing others the space to be vulnerable may be the bravest thing we can do.”” tweeter=”” suffix=””]”Allowing others the space to be vulnerable may be the bravest thing we can do.”[/inlinetweet]

 

 

 

It’s October 

October is Rett Syndrome awareness month and normally each year I am sharing here and everywhere as much information as possible to raise the awareness on this syndrome. 

This year I have struggled.

Not because it isn’t as important anymore because it definitely is, but because I am angry.

I’m so angry that Rett Syndrome is still taking children from their parents. 

That Mother’s, fathers ,sisters, brothers grandparents are broken hearted.


I’m angry that my friends have to go to sleep each day just praying that their child will awake in the morning.

I’m furious that so many are in hospitals fighting infections, seizures, recovering from seizures. Families separated, families struggling. 

I’m frustrated that no matter how far the research is coming Charities are still being the ones to fight for funding to save our girls. That government funding is few and far between. 

It’s another year, another October and we had lost another. 

Another too many

Another too soon 

Another heart broken.

So yes October is Rett Syndrome awareness month but for those fighting against this syndrome October is another month in a year full of battles, heartache and fear.

I’m so angry at Rett Syndrome. 

We need a cure and we need it now. 

The unwanted visitor 

The thing about grief that drives my heartache is that it doesn’t care. 

Its has no discrimination, it will visit the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the healthy and the sick.

It’s not worried if today is a good day or if the moment is wrong, it has its own timing, it sings to it’s own tune.

It fact it is rather rude and has no boundaries at all and no matter how much I try it will not go and sit in the corner for a little while. 

The notes are its own and its music we just have to play, often on repeat, over and over. We fall asleep to its unique symphony, we wake to its morning chorus. 

Someone once told me I was broken, I don’t think they meant it in the way I understood it but I totally agree. 

I am completely broken. 

Grief leaves you with a brokenness that you can work through but from which you can never fully heal.

You cannot go back to who you were before your unwelcome visitor came to stay.

Yet in the brokenness you will see light, a gentle flame that holds out refusing to give in to the darkness. 

My realisation thanks to my new best friend called grief is that it wouldn’t hurt so deeply if it didn’t matter.

The pain that is tearing at my heart, it’s ok because it’s a testimony 

A testimony to love.

You see just like grief, love is another than pops up and won’t leave you alone.

It tangles your heart in web of moments and memories, wonderful heart fluttering emotions. 

So grief may be the hardest of emotions that leaves you gasping for breathe, but fight back reminding it that it’s is also one of great celebration, 

We loved, we laughed, we lived.

We created those moments that we will cherish for all time. 

To live we love. 

To love we have to grieve. 

So whilst there are times where grief and I will fall out, grief is the friend I will welcome again because my grief is my testimony to my love. 

Why – Orlando xxx 

I haven’t been able to write this week. I just couldn’t find the words to really explain my feelings,my utter horror at the atrocity committed in Orlando this week.

My heart breaks for the families of those who lives were lost, stolen.

My heart breaks for the LGBT community that has suffered so much already. 

How do you find words to comprehend such pain? 

There simply aren’t words.

My heart is aching terribly 

But my head is full of whys. 

Why did this happen?

Why was this allowed to happen?

Why is there such bigotry in this world?

Why is there such hate?

Why can’t people just be free to love whoever they want?

I pray for a world were love is celebrated in all forms. Where there is no “it should be this way” or “that isn’t right”.

I pray for a world where love is just seen as love.

Love can and one day will unite this world it’s this hope that I hold on to.

What defines you!

If you were to read about my past in script form you would be forgiven for thinking that this may have been a script for a television drama or more likely a soap opera.

It’s a story full of pain, loss and at times anger.

Yet it is my life and right now I am walking a journey which is laying it completely open and completely bare and its hard. It fact it’s blooming painful, yet in the midst of the tears of which there has been plenty I have actually found myself feeling a strength that is holding me all in place. In fact it must have the wire that has held me together through this life’s journey.

My faith in myself.

DSC_0147

 

I cannot go back and change the past. In fact I’m not sure I would ,as everything that has happened has formed me into the person I am right now and I actually rather like who I am.

We all have pathways to walk and as human beings we will make mistakes, we mess up and at times we completely screw up but its how we move forward that defines us. How we learn from experiences and how we grow.

 

My life may have been messy, but it has challenged me to see beyond the barriers. I love with all my heart, I believe in people with all my soul and most of all I have hope. Hope that with love and empathy this world can and will be a better place.

 

So if right now like me you are feeling scared and vulnerable keep pushing forward because you may not realise it, but these moments, these challenges may be the moments that define who you really are.