Day 27

Worst habits since my loss?

Two:

1) Losing myself completely inside the internet for hours on end without surfacing for human interaction. I can always chart bad patches coming, my internet usage creeps back up when I'm low. Not writing but reading. Immersing myself in other people's stories to escape my own.

2) Comfort eating. No packet of biscuits (or cakes or chocolate) is safe from me since Emma died. It's not attractive and I need to find a way out of it but tiredness and grief do a wicked number on my will power.

Day 26

It's half-term, so this is a different week as Dave teaches and it's a holiday for him as well as Ben & Lucy. But, an ordinary week looks like this:

Mon-Fri: We walk to school (hopefully - but rarely - arriving on time). After dropping Ben and Lucy off, Toby and I come home (sometimes via the cemetery). Most of our days are quiet. I just can't do the local Mother and Baby group any more. Too many of the mums were too useless when Emma died. Time enough for that when Toby is actually more aware that hanging with his mum isn't actually the whizz bang he appears to think it is right now. He naps in the morning and I rush around doing jobs (feeding guinea pigs, washing nappies, ironing -yuck, thrice yuck.) except for the days when the nights have been really bad (often, at the moment) when I might just give up and nap too.

At least once a week, my best friend and her little girl come over to hang with us. Most Thursdays, she and I and the babes attend a sling walk at a local park (although, since the weather has turned there's less walking and more cafe haunting).

Toby and I eat lunch together and then play. If he's grumpy, he hangs out on my back in the sling whilst I wash up. Really, wee man could do with a nap around 3 but we're struggling with that right now because we have to collect Ben and Lucy at 3.20 (except Wednesdays, which is after school club and art club).

Home from school, a drink and a snack for the older two (and some TV but no computer which is rationed to weekends), maybe a short nap for Toby. I cook whilst the children play. Dave is back around 5.30pm. We all eat together where possible. Tuesday night is Rainbows for Lucy. Thursday night is Anchor Boys for Ben. Dave does bath time which all the kids adore. I wash up and clean around downstairs. I head back upstairs for stories - normally I'm Lucy's primary story reader but right now, Ben and I are sharing the second Har.ry Pot.ter so I read to him whilst Dave reads to Lucy. Teeth then prayers and lullabies and good nights. I lie down with Toby and feed him to sleep. Sometimes it works! I head downstairs for time with Dave and/or laptop/TV/embroidery. Until recently, Toby would reliably sleep until 11 but, having made the reckless decision to grow 4 teeth at once, this is no longer a given. I fall into bed far later than I should most nights and am up again every couple of hours right now. I'm looking forward to getting some sleep sometime in the future!

Saturday: Ben has trampolining at 10.30 and Lucy has just stopped dancing at 12, which frees up our afternoon a little. We try and keep the afternoons a little bit relaxed (aside from cleaning out the guinea pigs and the obligatory "Do I haaaave to?" from their 6YO owner). Sometimes, we see my parents who live locally. Sometimes we do that on Sunday instead. The kids love their Wii right now so we can often be found dancing round like loons. Saturday tea is usually quick and easy (and sometimes nutritious *blush*).

Sunday: Up for church. Our service has just changed from 9.15 to 10.15, which is a relief for us and makes the morning a little less fraught. It's not always the easiest of times. I don't blog much about my ongoing attempts to integrate my faith with what has happened to us but it's turning out to be a long, slow path and I often feel quite low during church.

Back home for lunch and homework (my least favourite time of the week and the time when I seriously wish I home educated!!) If we're not seeing my parents or doing soft play parties then I do stuff with the kids while Dave does his preparation for the following week. Sunday evenings right now, I catch up with both Saturday and Sunday's "Strictly" on i.pla.yer. Love it.

Lost for words

I shouldn't be surprised really. I was asking a lot of myself to think that I'd be able to come here and write with any coherence in the days after Emma's birthday. I remember from last year that the time after was so much harder than the days before (or the day itself). Both Emma's daddy and I have been sunk in a deep funk. We miss her, we miss her so much. I have waded through the last week, just going through the motions. My introverted little heart has had no space for anything else, except me and my grief. I've not been emotionally available to my other children - simply meeting their physical needs has exhausted me (especially short stuff's need to feed at 1am, 3am, 5 am ...)


But, the thing about two years, is I know there's light. Two years ago, I feared I might never smile again. Now I know that these seasons of sadness will always come but so too will better times. I can't force them to happen, I just have to wait until they return. And I think my mood is a little lighter again. Hopefully, I'll manage the last few days of the meme.

Day 17 - A Piece of Art.

For the longest time, I had a chip on my shoulder about "Art". I wasn't well taught, I don't think. My art teachers had a lot of time for those with natural aptitude (I wasn't one of those) but there was very little encouragement for those of us who might have had a lot of enjoyment in the process, even if the result wasn't polished. Nor do I remember being given much encouragement to appreciate beautiful pieces created by others. I was just pretty ground down - both my teacher and I breathed a sigh of relief when I opted not to continue my art to exam level.

So, I had this idea that it was somehow inaccessible to me. My first experience of enjoying art was studying Impressionism for my A-level French. The course included a 4 day stay in Paris (and the resort formerly known as "Euro.Disney"), with a visit to the Musee d'Orsay. And, maybe it's a cliche, but that's when I became engaged with "Art". I had to do a fifteen minute presentation (in French) on this piece. I have a framed reproduction of it on our bedroom wall. Post loss, I still love the innocence I associate with it.

Day 16 - A song that makes you cry (or nearly)

I'm not going to fill in the gaps from the last few days, just pick up with today.

So, songs. I agree with Angie, all music has the capacity to dissolve me into a puddle of sadness. Sometimes, I deliberately play things I know will make me cry, just for the catharsis. All song lyrics are about dead babies, all babylost parents know that. I can't sing many of the songs in church any more. And lullabies and nursery rhymes? I'll be astonished if Toby ever learns the words, as pronounced by his wailing, snot-dribbling mummy as she hugs him so hard he gives his protest squeak.

But, in  particular, a piece of music played by Emma's daddy for her birthday chokes me. I've heard it a lot these past months, as Dave practised it before recording. It has become her music.

And this will always remind me of my beautiful little girl too:

Thank you.

I am listening to Jess reading our babies' names as I type and crying harder than I have cried in a very long time. So many babies loved and gone too, too soon. And, in the midst of so much pain, such love and compassion.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU for all the wonderful messages of support, the candles and the beautiful acts of kindness done in Emma's name. Her second birthday was very, very special. Thank you.

TWO.

 Presents:

 A cake:

and a lot of love and support and kindness.
I just wish the birthday girl was here.


Emma,
We love you more than you can know and miss you every single second of every single day.
Love from,
Mummy, Daddy, Ben, Lucy & Toby.