Justifying Decisions, Why Do I Continue To Do This?

As a parent of two children, life can throw judgement your way.

Rather, judgemental people in life can throw judgement your way.

So often I have found myself justifying the choices I make, not just for the children, but for me too.

After a toxic friendship with a woman who would negatively judge the majority of my decisions, I now feel that I have to be ready for further comments about the choices I make.  I am now, armed with my ammo of words, to explain why I do what I do. Continue reading “Justifying Decisions, Why Do I Continue To Do This?”

12 years-Memories On Our Anniversary

Today we celebrate our 12th anniversary.  12 years of memories-the best days and the worst days.  I can’t list 12 years worth of memories-so here are just some…….
On the 28th of March 2005, an 18 year old me, and a 19 year old you met in our local town.  We’d known each other (on and off) since we were 7

Within a few months (6 to be exact), we were on our first holiday together.

The 6th of October 2005 you asked me to be your wife. We didn’t even live together but I knew I wanted to marry you.

At the end of March 2006 we moved in together. Our first flat and we loved it.

5th June 2009. Our world changed. I was pregnant. Unplanned but so wanted we realised we really wanted to be parents.

17th June 2009. You supported me during one of the toughest times. Nanny dying, while I was pregnant and planning our wedding was tough. But you stayed strong for me.

1st August 2009. The day i became your wife.
One of the best days of my life-becoming one with you.

7th February 2010. Our son was born. Kye George Peter Willson, bundled into our lives and turned them upside down. Another of my favourite days-watching you become a Daddy was one of the best things I’ve ever seen.

28th September 2011. Our family was growing. Another baby on the way. Our hearts were fuller then they’ve ever been. Plans for our new arrival were underway.

26th October 2011. Our new baby was gone. 8 weeks 3 days. No heartbeat. No baby.
Once again you were so strong. You kept me going when my world had crumbled.

1st September 2012. We tried for so long to have another baby after we lost our angel. We fell pregnant again. But just days later we lost another angel. I was distraught. You were strong once more.

7th November 2012. Another lost baby. I was done. Numb. No more babies for us. You said we’d see what happened. I was done.

27th January 2013. Emergency appointment at the early pregnancy unit. A scan showed a beating heart. Another chance-our 5th pregnancy.

27th September 2013. Olivia-May Barbara Willson-our rainbow after so many storms. Our family was complete and so was my heart.


Mental Health.

Following Olivia’s 1st birthday-I realised something was wrong. I wasn’t feeling myself and I wanted it sorted.

Since my first visit to the doctor regarding how I felt, up until today, I’ve had counselling, and I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety and depression all caused by my miscarriages.

You give me the support I so often need, so much that I often worry you’re too strong too often.
Since being diagnosed with those mental illnesses, I’ve bought my website. I now write anything I fancy, any time.
My Work.
You often tell me how clever I am. How good my writing is. You don’t realise how much those words mean to me.
I now go to blogger events, often having a meltdown before every single one, and have regular anxiety and panic attacks. But you always have hope and faith in me. You tell me I can do it. You tell me I’ll be fine. You’re always right but you know I’ll not remember the next time I’m facing that battle-so you tell me again and again each time.

You.
You work so hard for our family. I know it’s not easy. I’m so proud you’re so hard working and a perfect role model for our children.
12 years have passed and we’re not the same people we once were. So much has changed. We’ve changed. But we’re still us. We’re still one. We’re still together.

I am grateful for you, I am thankful to fate for bringing us together. And I love you today, and every day.

Happy Anniversary Baby xxx

Today I’m Thankful For….. #5

I’ll be honest, today I struggled to find things I’m thankful for.
It’s not been a bad day as such, just a kind of nothing day where nothing much happened. I think I’ve scrambled three together though.

 

My resilient daughter

Seriously, this child.
She was definitely sent to try us, aside from her rather challenging behaviour, she’s  constantly poorly at the moment, and today it would appear she has come down with Hand Foot and Mouth (we think).  Coming up to three weeks in nursery now, she’s only had 3 days where she’s been free from illness, which is tough to watch, but she just gets on with it!  We think she probably started coming down with whatever this is on Friday, after we remembered today hearing her complaining about something hurting, that now has a spot on it.  She has spots on her hands and feet, and a mouthful of ulcers, but not once has she got upset, or fussed about any of these things!  She’s the same child i tell people about all the time, a story about when we viewed our current home; She was 18 months old, toddling around, and, as we viewed the kitchen, she’d climbed to the top of the first flight of stairs, fallen down them, got up at the bottom and run off.  She’s made of some kind of tough-stuff and I’m so thankful she never seems to suffer too much with things.

A Sunday lie-in
I can hear parents everywhere questioning what one of those is.  My kids never let us have one either.  Except for today, when my husband nudged me awake this morning, and whispered “it’s ten to 9!”
I turned over and didn’t even bother opening my eyes to acknowledge it-no sleep is ever enough for me-but just the thought that they’d both slept in, getting the rest their little bodies need after a horrible couple of weeks of being so unwell, made me so happy!
It also gave us the energy to be better parents (not that we’re not bloody marvellous anyway), more patient, happy, motivated parents, meaning we had happier more content children.  Even if this only happened this morning, and they’re both up at 5am tomorrow, we can at least remember it as the “Sunday that was”.

My dad
There’s already a blog about this amazing man, here-My Dad, but I very rarely write much regarding him in general.
At 61 years of age, he’s a massively successful man in his work as a child support worker and family liaison officer, a qualified counsellor, a loving Husband to my equally awesome Step-Mum, an amazing family man, and Grandad to his four Grandchildren.
Sometimes, I find, life just takes over a little. We get ill, then he gets ill, so we sometimes go for long periods of time not seeing each other, even though he’s only half an hour away.  He’s busy, working all week, and, I rarely get a weekend where we’re all free at the same time.  This doesn’t affect his relationship with me in the slightest.  He’s still attentive, caring and loving, and there’s rarely a day where we don’t speak.  His Grandchildren love him as much as anyone else in our family, and he and his Son-in-law (my Husband)  have an amazing bond too, which is all I can ask for really.

Recently, in events beyond my control, he’s been put through the mill a bit.  I worry constantly he’s not OK handling all the stress (even though he tells me he’s fine), and I get so angry with people taking advantage of his good nature.

He never loses it, he never gets angry or takes it out on me or anyone else, he’s always the same Dad to me he has been my whole life.
He’s proud of me and the things I’m doing and achieving.  He’s supportive of my decisions, and advises me when I need him to.  He listens to me while I rant for half an hour about something bugging me, then gives me the bang on the head I need to continue being strong.  His support knows no bounds, and I don’t think he realises just how much he is loved and respected, not just by me but by so many people.

I’m thankful because he’s my Dad.  And I’ll thank whoever or whatever gave me him for the rest of our lives.

 

 

So that’s all for today’s ‘thankful for’ post!  Don’t forget you can join in to!
You can go onto my Facebook, Twitter and Instagram or comment at the bottom of this post to join in thinking of something you’re thankful for.  Don’t forget to use the hashtag #MFBthanful so I can find you easily too!

a410ee6f96418a70a55b19176817f53a

Xx MFB  xX

Unanswered Questions 

Why were you needed up there?

I worried so much that you’d be alone and you’d need me. Your two siblings joined you and you weren’t alone anymore. 

I wondered what you three would’ve looked like down here.   Of course there wouldn’t have been three of you down here would there. There was only ever going to be one more. And only one joined us.

I wish I could tell your brother and sister about you. But what would I say?

How I beat myself up every day that I’m still grieving for you. But grieving for you means I’m not thinking of Olivia. Because if you were here I wouldn’t have her would I. So does that mean I have to choose? Choose being happy you’re not here because she is? 
She was all we’d wished for and more. She was our rainbow after our stormy horrible days and our sleepless sad nights. 

I still worry she’ll be taken from me too. Like you were. Who do I blame for that? What do I blame for that?

The PTSD-that I got after losing you? Do I blame the drs for not helping me to grieve and deal with the trauma properly? Or do I blame myself-the one person who should’ve kept you safe-who had a responsibility to keep you safe. And failed. 

How easy it is for everyone else to forget you. To not remember I was having you. To oversee the events that shaped me into who I am now-to not consider why I am like I am because of you three. 

Why don’t they remember you like I do?

I just don’t know anymore. I don’t know if you heard me, begging you not to leave me. Trying so hard to keep you in. I don’t know why I couldn’t keep you in.

I’ll never know anything-never have any answers as to why what happened, happened. 

And that’s probably the worst thing. 
X

6 Hours and Counting…….

 

Today, as 9 o clock came around, I realised I was, for the first time in almost 7 years, child free.

There were no children waiting for me at home, no babies growing in my tummy to plan for-there was just a house, a treasure trove of memories and reminders that they’re not here.

I’ll wish away the next 6 hours, and people will ask me why-why didn’t you just come home and enjoy the quiet?
Why didn’t you think of all the time you’d have for you now?

And I’ll say-because I was put on this earth to be their Mummy. I don’t know anything else-I don’t remember my life, or living, before I had them.
How can you enjoy that?

When they’re not with me, it’s like something has got hold of me. A choking panicking sensation. Not an overwhelming one that I’m always aware of, but a dull feeling in the back of my mind, the pit of my stomach, the tip of my tongue, just waiting for its chance to take over.

Maybe in a few months, I will enjoy it. Maybe I’ll have my own little routines on the days they’re not here.

Maybe I’ll be a better person, stronger and more organised.

Maybe I won’t even remember feeling like this.
But right now, it’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other and get home. Because each step takes me further away from my babies.

6 hours and counting……

X

 

She is mine.

 

I’ve been deliberating for ages about not only writing this blog post, but publishing it too.

I feel a little abnormal, and that I might end up regretting admitting something so personal, that people may find odd.  So this blog basically started as a draft post, just for me to write my feelings down.

 

It’s only after speaking with a friend today, and explaining to her the reason I write is to stop people feeling alone and having common ground in what they’re going through, that I think there might be others in the situation I’m in.

 

SO here goes…….

You know when someone shares something on Facebook that basically says “do you ever look at your child and can’t believe you made them?” (or something along those lines).

That’s how I felt with my son, that’s how I still feel about him.  I know he’s mine, I’ve never felt any differently, I look at him and there’s no doubt in my mind, no niggle in my messed up brain that thinks otherwise.

 

My daughter however, I feel differently about.

I’m not sure if it’s the miscarriages, the recurrent losses and heartache I faced each time I lost another baby.  Maybe it’s the detachment of feeling, that came from worrying constantly about the pregnancy with my daughter, my fifth pregnancy.

Please don’t misunderstand what I’m saying-I love her with all of my being, my children are my entire world and more, but sometimes, I look at her, and think, “I don’t feel like you’re mine”.  “I don’t feel like you belong to me”.

It’s always a fleeting thought, and it’s over in seconds, with my subconscious convincing me that she obviously is mine.  That I pushed all 9lb 2.5oz of her chubby body out of my lady parts, that I have been with her every day since the day she was born, nurturing her, teaching her and loving her.

She is mine, she looks like me, acts like me, speaks like me.  She needs me, loves me, and when it’s just us, I am her person, her ‘go to’ and comfort.

For some reason, all those rational thoughts go out of the window every now and again, when I look at my beautiful little girl and think “you can’t be mine”.

 


I know it’s denial, but lets be serious here, denial for over 3 years is pretty huge.  

It’s just another effect left over from the utter trauma and devastation I went through when going through my miscarriages.  It’s the denial I felt every time I not only fell pregnant, but when I lost the babies, then when I kept hitting milestone after milestone, seeing scan after scan, with my daughter.  I convinced myself she wouldn’t be mine, just like the others, and from that, comes this long term denial I’m now stuck with.

I’m confident I won’t feel like this forever, and am thankful that it doesn’t affect our bond or the extent of my love for her, but its another thing to remind me how let down I was following my miscarriages, from the lack of aftercare and help I received, and that’s something that will be harder to move on from, for a long long time.

X