It’s not ok that our children died.

Often when we face a loss in our community of special needs parenting, our hearts break alongside those facing the pain. We emphasise with the anger and missing we feel the disbelief and sadness. Myself personally I ache for the pain I know those left behind will feel. Each new loss reopening a wound that is far from healed.

Yet one of the things I still do not understand about loss in the disability community is that from those outside of it, is the feeling that somehow it’s acceptable. That in some way it is less. The concept that a life lived with a disability is not as full as one without.

There is no denying that being part of the special needs community we face loss maybe more than most, the wider our community the wider amount of pain. But that’s our life, we choose to walk alongside one another through the good and the bad. We celebrate the achievements and too often we have to grieve the loss.

Yet often those outside the community do not understand our journey and more often than I would like, do not understand our joy.

Statements like “oh well she had been poorly for a while” “sometimes it’s for the best” or my favourite (irony) “God knows best”.

When Livvy died she had a devastating neurological condition. Her body faced so many obstacles, seizures, abnormal breathing, sometimes uncontrollable movements. Yes, to list her conditions it may seem dire. Yet what the reality was that yes she had this list of issues but what she also had was a life filled with love and laughter. She had a family that adored her, she had parents she wrapped around her fingers. Sisters she teased and played with. Teachers she adored, friends she loved. Her life was full of joy and mischief. She was not her list of conditions. Yet still when I speak of my missing, people speak of her with pity. When I speak of her loss, people speak with acceptance, as if her disability makes her death more ok.

Whilst I know this attitude is meant with kindness I need to share that it’s not. When someone who has a disability dies it’s not ok, it’s not even a little ok. It’s a heartbreaking, soul destroying grief.

You see people are not their disabilities they are simply people. A child with disabilities is simply a child.

So I beg of people, I ask desperately that when dealing with a grieving mother, a broken father a missing family, that before you speak of freedom from pain, limited lives or God’s choices, STOP. Whilst the lives lost may have seemed hard to you, or the disabilities overwhelming those grieving see the little boy whose eyes twinkled as he looked at them. The little girl whose smile lit up the room, their son, daughter, sister, brother. We don’t grieve the disability, we grieve the one we loved and their disability wasn’t what defined them. Our pain is not less and their death is not and never will be acceptable.

Holy cow it’s March

Well hello March, what happened to January and February? Oh that’s right Sara you got lost. Lost in sadness, lost in anxiety and lost in defeat.

2021 started wrong, I’m sorry but I survived 2020 by patiently waiting for it to end. Pretending that it’s ok, hiding in a false facade of a comradery of equal suffering. “We are all in this together” “if everyone looks out for another” “we can do this”.

What bull that was, whilst some were hosting garden parties or indoor raves I was still locked behind my door scared to breathe deep.

So 2021 you need to behave, I have no more inspiration for homeschooling. I don’t want to talk to my husband any more and as much as I love Daniel I need sleep and I really really want to hug my daughters.

I cannot pretend anymore and that’s ok but unfortunately in my brain it wasn’t. So January and February I did my familiar act I locked down. I couldn’t disguise my sadness any more so I hid. I found my anger at the injustice of the forgotten vulnerable had started to warp my life view, jealous of others park walks none the less. Shopping trips envied to the point of stupidness I mean who cares that Asda has a new bedding range.

I did it 2020 I survived you but 2021 you need to play fair.

I’m broken…

I’m not asking for a lot, I have no desire or money to travel (lockdown for foster carers didn’t fit the furlong scheme). Just to walk along a beach to feel the freezing cold of the British sea on my feet. To take Daniel to the local farm where he can indulge in his cow stalking behaviour to his hearts content. To eat in a restaurant where someone serves me and washes up.

I want to hold my daughters tight, to be there physically if they need me. To watch Daniel be held by those that love him as we repair his attachment bonds and remove his fear of rejection. To start his therapies again and to do all I can so he gets to live the fullest of lives.

I want so much to be there for my friends, to drink coffee, babysit whatever they need. To be able to hug them when they cry, to be able to listen without being out of reach behind a screen.

I want to people watch with joy again. To be able to see those around me without fear of infection.

I want to not feel so angry, so lost.

2020 I survived you, 2021 behave.

What if you are wrong?

Right now I am tired, tired of the opinions of those who think they know best. Tired of armchair experts ripping apart years of work and dedication from scientists worldwide. Tired of hearing ‘Liberty over life’.

I guess you could say I’m tired.

The thing is it’s ok, it’s ok for you feel this way and to have this opinion, I celebrate free speech at its best. Still free speech doesn’t come without consequences and right now all I can see is free speech at its worst.

I was once told by a Doctor “what if”

I was apologising for being a little over anxious with Daniel. For getting him checked out a little early than needed. Only for the Doctor to put his hand on mine and say “what if”. What if you hadn’t of brought him in and it was that sodium issue you feared, what if those chest noises was pneumonia, what if, what if.

So right now everyone and their dog, parrot, chinchilla has their opinion on Covid 19, it’s a myth, a government conspiracy, something we just have to learn to live with. All things I definitely disagree with and to what I answer “what if”. Yet what is really bugging me now is the false propaganda of the vaccine “Beam me up Scotty” being only one of the few theories I’ve heard. I again question you “what if?

Now don’t get me wrong I’m not telling anyone they should get the vaccine, my personal opinion is ‘get in the line’ but my decision is mine and I was so grateful to receive mine a few weeks back. Yet if I am asked by another for advice I point them towards the experts, the scientific community who have dedicated their lives to the study of diseases etc. People who know their stuff. I’m not an expert.

Yet I am finding myself seeing so many people on forums, Facebook pages , seeing parents especially being attacked for their decision to vaccinate and want to get their child vaccinated. Again I cry out “what if”. What if the fear of your judgement stops that person getting vaccinated and they then pass the virus on to their family. What if Grandpa Joe cannot fight the virus, auntie Katie, cousin bill etc etc.

What if.

What if people start listening to the pseudo science of false theories and harmful articles spreading it to the extent that more lose their lives “what if”.

I love this world, our creative, imaginative, far reaching minds. The uniqueness of each of us is to be celebrated. Yet please, free speech is not free if it causes harm to others. I don’t challenge your opinions, they are yours to own what I do challenge is that before you spread them far and wide you ask yourself What if.

What if .

Grief

I am beginning to wonder if someone within five-minute Friday is reading my heart as the word choices over the last few weeks have cut close. At first, I feel shocked but then wonder if God is reminding me that hiding is not an option and that it’s also not healthy. How can we process emotions when we don’t acknowledge them? Yet ‘grief ‘I am not sure if this is an emotion that can be processed ,its definitely not one that we can work through, well its one I haven’t personally worked through and the end well I’ve come to the conclusion that the end of grief is heaven. 

November is one of the hardest months for me and this year has been no different, I have to face the anniversary of my daughter’s death but also this year has brought so much pain my heart aches just thinking about it. 

Yet I know grief isn’t just synonymous with death.

noun

keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.

a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.

Right now, the world is lost in grief, many of us cannot see past the what should have been’s, the normal, the plans being cancelled, people we cannot visit and I know it’s hard. As one who has faced a lot of what should have beens’s I get it. I did not expect my child to be born with a severe neurological condition, I didn’t expect to not be able to travel due to illness, to spend birthdays and new year’s in hospital.

I did not expect to lose her.  

I have faced so many of what should have been’s. 

It’s hard. 

Yet sometimes “what is” can be rather special, 

No, I did not ever imagine having a child with a devastating condition, it never crossed my mind at any point. Yet she was one of the best things that life has ever blessed me with. I learned through her that life was to be lived for the moment that the reality is we are never promised a long duration, so we need to live in the present. We need to focus on the here and now and celebrate the moments. 

Expectations can be exciting, but they can also bring restriction. Sometimes we have to let go of what should be and celebrate the what is. 

Grief is hard and for me there is no earthly end, but I will never lose sight of the gift. 


“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”


― Jamie Anderson

If you are grieving now hold on to the why. The wonderful people you miss desperately but love so hard. 

Focusing on the blessings isn’t easy and grief sometimes become a curtain which hides the gifts from us. But try, try in this season to tear back the curtain and celebrate the moments that made the memories and appreciate the memories yet to be made. 

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.