Author Archives: Duvet days

About Duvet days

Single mum, coffee lover, book obsessed, gluten free, reformed criminal defence solicitor, repressed classicist.

And I wonder if you know How it really feels to be left outside alone

Duvet days

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Baby Lulu helping Mummy out with the guest list at Fabric

A friend of mine from Instagram recently posted the following quote ‘main caption above recently. She is a fellow spoonie, a fellow endurer of autoimmune disease and chronic pain and fatigue. Her post got me thinking a lot about how being so unwell really changes ones relationships in a way that can be really hard to deal with, from both sides. I spend my time either at work or at home, there are no other destinations for me these days. I am too tired, too sick, in too much pain. This is not how it used to be. I have spent half a life time working in clubs, I am a naturally sociable and curious person, I like being out and about, meeting people, talking, eating out. Having fun.

If I thought having baby might curtail these activities (it didn’t really, my ex husband and I just let Lu slot into our lifestyle, with a few less ‘out until at dawn’ scenarios) then it had nothing on that the impact developing fibromyalgia had on my life.

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Pimms in Nottinghill

I understand that at times friends don’t ask me to go places because they know I won’t be able to and I imagine that they don’t want to put pressure on me or make me feel bad when I decline. I cannot cope without rest, lots of rest, so that does put a stop to evening afterwork shenanigans. This has also meant that I don’t make plans anymore, ever because I have had to cancel at the last minute more often than not as my illness varies greatly day to day, I could be fine one day and then barely able to walk the next. I hate hate hate feeling like I have let people down so now I just don’t make any plans. I spend my evenig and weekends with my mum and my daughter. I know it probably isn’t hugely healthy, that I should be with friends, to let off steam, chat, be ‘me’ but we don’t always get to do what we want. I know I am doing my best.

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Lunch at the Oysterage in Orford, Suffolk

I’m not trying to do anyone a disservice, maybe the people who don’t ask me just don’t wat t see me, I can accept that! But for those who do like me, it is really important for me to still be asked to spend time with you, it makes me feel valued and wanted and all those things we are never meant to rely on other people for but we do. Each time a friend invites me to do something, knowing that I will probably say no or cancel at the last minute, it makes me feel really included which is so important when one has an illness that can be so debilitating and isolating.

So please, if you have a friend who is unwell, be it depression or any other illness, please remember, when they say no to an invitation, don’t be hurt, don’t vow to not bother again, it matters that you asked, it matters so so much.

 

Hold on, We’re going home

I spent my whole childhood and adulthood living in West London, save 5 years at uni in Liverpool, in fact I only moved out of the area when I was 37. It is my home, my place, my familiar.

My mum and I started off in the area housed in bedsits in Paddington, I was 18 months old and my mum was a lone parent at the age of 23. Westbourne Gove and Queensway weren’t the cafe strewn Daylesford organic destination they are now. It was grotty hotels and a little down at heel but the area has always had quite a stunning mix of very wealthy and very poor residents. See the multi million pound houses for sale in Blenheim Crescent that lead onto those gorgeous private gardens you glimpsed in Richard Curtis’ Nottinghill and then remember the council housing estates at the end of  the same road.

And it was into one of these council blocks that my mum and I moved for our first ever proper home. Flat 152 (floor 15, flat 2) Grenfell Tower, Lancaster Road, W11, the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. We moved into our flat as soon as the building was completed but the greens at the base of the tower block were still rubble and the landscaping continued for a while after we arrived. It was big and shiny and new, all 23 floors of it. Our flat was one of two on the far right hand corner when you exited the lift. From the windows we could see what was to be one of my primary school, St Clements. My orignal primary school St James burnt down when in was 9 so we were all moved to first Avondale and then portakabins in the playground of St Clements, which has since closed. Far in the distance you could see Holland Park, Portobello Road and the old BBC TV Centre in Shepherds Bush, though as hard as I tried I just couldn’t see the Blue Peter Garden. Don’t worry though, I got to see it a few years later on a school trip. Woohoo. Remember when Blue Peter used to do these huge balloon releases, and they had tags attached, if you found one you wrote in and got a prize? I used to watch those but never found a balloon.

Grenfell Tower was a lovely community, my mum made friends, I made friends, it was clean and safe, though that wasnt the rumour in the neighbour hood. Believe it or not the milk man used to deliver to all the flats. That stopped after a couple of years for rather unsavoury reason I believe.We had a two bedroom flat and for the first few months all we had a rocking chair and a mattress to adorn it, very minimalist, but after my grandma gave us some money we also got a sofa and a cooker – fancy huh!

We were exceptionally high up but our neighbour, Bob, used to clean windows in the block and my mum would always hide in the bathroom as she couldn’t bear watching him clinging to the outside of the building while he washed and cleaned. Nothing fazed him, remarkable really, but obviously something that would never be allowed to happen now.

We were burgled once, poor fools, we had absolutely nothing for them to take so instead they ripped up every singular one of my mum’s photos into tiny irreparable pieces. This was in the 1970s, the days with out back up disk of pics, if you didn’t have the negatives then bye bye photos. That is why there is not one singe baby picture of me. The police told us that the burglars were clearly pissed off and decided to ransack and ruin the place instead, but honestly who burgles the flat of a single mum in a tower block, what were they expecting, jewels?

We had made friends with a lady and her daughter who were on the 7th floor and I remember being invited for a birthday tea  but of course my mum had no money to buy a gift so we found the smartest looking of my Ladybird books to give as  gift. I remember to this day being very sad as I loved each and every one of my books but needs must. No one living there had any money, that’s just the way it was.

There were a few fires while we lived there, basically people setting fire to the rubbish chute which ran from the top of the building to the bottom, ending in big bins at the bottom. I remember my mum bundling me up in a duvet and carrying me down the 15 floors in the middle of the night and we would stand outside with all the other pyjamaed residents while the fire brigade did the necessary.

Despite being such a new building the lifts, 2 of them, were frequently out of order and my mum suffered from quite bad back problems, still does to this day, and she sensibly decided that carrying a child and/or shopping up and down 15 floors was going to do nothing to ease her pain so she applied to the local housing association for a ground floor flat and we were given one, down the road, near the Elgin Pub, anyone remember that place? and just off the Nottinghill Carnival Route.

And that where we remained for many happy years. We moved in there in time to celebrate my 5th birthday. Did we miss Grenfell Tower, yes we did. I have only happy memories of living there and now it is all gone. My mother woke me up on the morning of the fire to tell me it had happened. I was shocked and desperately saddened, all those people, all those children, one stair case. It really doesn’t bear thinking about.

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Me and my mum lyrics home london rain

I rarely return to the area these days, I moved out to Buckinghamshire when I was pregnant 7 years ago and I work near Euston but yesterday I returned to Holland Park to see my dentist. I am completely dental phobic and refused to move from the chap who has looked after my teeth for the last 30 years. As I walked down the avenue, loving the leafy trees and reminiscing I knew I would eventually view the tower, I searched the skyline as I crossed each road and finally there it was, a black smudged shell. You could see the day light streaming through the smashed window and out the other side, it was a shocking sight and I can only imagine how terrifying it had been for all involved. My mum won’t go and see it though she wants to pay her respects, it is too much for her.

I couldn’t think of anything to do to help, practical donations of clothes and food had flooded in, to help those who needed assistance, thankfully. But I did see that there were T shirts available to buy where the proft went towards a fund for the victims, so I ordered one. See Lulu in the main picture wearing it, and below.

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All profits from t -shirt sales go to residents 

If you would like to buy one they are £10 plus postage each and available online at http://www.love4.london  All profits goes to the residents affected.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s find a cozy nook Beside a babbling brook

I haven’t really wanted to write for the last few weeks. Every day brings more awful news and no words I have can do the events justice, so I have done the sensible thing and remained quiet. However, Lulu and I did have a lovely little mini break a short while ago and I wanted to write about that, particularly now as it brings me very happy memories.

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Huge deck chairs

As a single mum I am the one that makes Lu do all the boring unfun things like homework, and going to bed and brushing her tangled hair. She witnesses the mundanity of domestic life on the weekend , when we can spend time together, as I work full-time the week nights are pretty much, homework, bath, bed. However she recently asked if we could go away to a hotel, just her and me. I have no idea where the thought came from but it sounded like a great plan, a mini break for us both. Away from the distractions of boring home life.

I needed somewhere close by so the drive didn’t exhaust me, also as I won’t drive when I have taken my painkillers so I was limited distance wise. I was originally quite taken with the Cotswolds, about an hour and half from our home. Cute little villages, just right for a stroll,  a place that did good food so we didn’t have to fend for ourselves but as my online search continued I came across the The Great House at Sonning in Berkshire and the plan changed. It was perfect, on the river, beautiful looking rooms, lovely restaurant menu, a bar with loads of sofas for pre dinner cocktails and a luscious looking deck chair strewn lawn leading down to the river. I managed to nab the last room on the Saturday night I wanted and opted for the more expensive river view room (£180) as a treat for us. It is also worth noting that at the moment there is no two night minimum stay at the weekend which makes it a much more affordable option for a jaunt away. I also requested that a bouquet of flowers be left in the room for Lulu as it was our first mini break together and I wanted to spoil her, the lady on the end of the phone was incredibly helpful and indeed the bouquet from Sonning Flowers (£30) that we arrived to was perfect for a 6-year-old girl. I booked dinner for the evening and breakfast the next morning, having discussed my Coeliacs disease requirements (gluten free food). The lady I spoke with was completely unfazed by my food requirements and that is always a good sign, much better than the ‘you’re what?’. An immediate anxiety attack follows that comment.

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Lu was particularly taken the picture of the stag, there were more lining the hallways

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Bathroom of dreams…those tile though

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My favourite part of a hotel room? the air conditioning or fan

I dropped the mini sausage dog off with my partner, dogs are allowed – woohoo – but I wanted to give Lulu my undivided attention, and he gave us a lift to the hotel as I was flagging a bit. We arrived for check it at about 3.30pm, the weather was picture perfect, sunny and blue skies. Check in was painless and we took our bags up to our room which was just as lovely as the website photos and the best bit? A fan in the room. Lu was thrilled, a massive bed, the big tv, a lovely spinning desk chair, a shiny bathroom with a shower so big that lu could lie on the bottom and present to swim. There were also jars of sweets, biscuits and fresh milk in the fridge.

Lu is as impatient as I am and after admiring the room and opening the windows off we went to explore the bar. At this point I must say that out room was over what turned out to be the resultant and outside dining terrace so there wasn’t much of a river view, save a sliver in the distance if you stood up tall, and the noise of the customers kept me awake during the night as it was so hot I kept the windows open, however I was so disturbed that eventually I relented and closed them. I did mention this to reception when I checked out so do be mindful where your room is. The other half of the building over looked a second beautiful lawn leading down to the river that is used for private functions though you may run the risk of being kept awake by the tradition wedding disco.

 

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I had the very same ballet bag when I was little

The bar and restaurant is called the Coppa Club and seems to manage to be all thing to all men very well. A lovely chrome bar with stools and an amazing cocktail and wine list. Comfy sofas for lounging and there are beautiful old paper backs scattered around for you to browse. As Lu and I sat at the bar drinking lemonade and drawing in her colouring book the rest of the bar consisted of ladies lunching, people working on laptops, families and couples drinking Pimms. Lu decided we needed to move to the beautiful velvet sofas and I took the opportunity to confirm our dinner booking and my gluten free status. After a while we ventured out onto the lawn with our drinks and relaxed in the deck chairs, listening to the music playing at just the right volume for me, people watching and admiring all the dogs in attendance. There was a bar outside which  had a BBQ going should you be minded. Lu was not a fan of the deck chairs and made us move twice. I add that the place was packed, we were lucky to get seats. There was also a wedding reception taking place on the next lawn, the bride was having photos taken by the river and she looked gorgeous. Lu loves a bride, I think she is quite taken with the ‘princess’ concept. So we admired her for a while and then decided to get dinner early. The restaurant staff were utterly charming. We were seated by the open doors to the terrace with was perfect as it was still so warm. Our waitress talked me though the menu and Lu got her own menu. We both opted for streak and chips. I had a crab linguine to start, Lu went off kids menu and had broad bean and feta humus – not a hit with her. However our mains more than made up for it, they were absolutely delicious. Mine came with huge grilled mushrooms and Lu and I cleared our plates. She drank a coke, which she had been looking forward to since I had made the booking, such treat for her (mean mummy) and I had a Seedlip and Fentimans tonic. Seedlip is a delicious non alcoholic spirit, a bit like gin. It was delicious, icy cold and refreshing. A fantastic substitute for alcohol, I gave up drinking over 3 years ago, but there is only so may elderflower presses that a gal can drink.

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Outstanding food and such good prices

Pudding for Lu was ice cream and for me a butterscotch pot with salted caramel. It was sensational, Lu and I were literally fighting over the empty shot glass it had come in. I shall be asking for the recipe. Then Lu wanted a cuddle so clearly it was time to go to bed. We had a fabulous shower, with the most enormous rain shower head I have ever seen. Then into bed to watch Over the Hedge on the iPad.

After a less than restful sleep – see note above about room location – but  superbly comfortable bed we awoke to the horrible news about the Tower Bridge and Borough Market attacks. I made a few phone calls to ensure that everyone I knew in the area was ok and since it was plastered across the TV and had the great pleasure of explaining to Lu, in language that will not terrify a six-year-old, that again, after the Manchester Area ‘fire’ some people have done some very bad things and some people had been hurt. We then called nanny, who live in Greenwich to make sure she was ok and for Lu to tell her all about the incident.

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Breakfast on the terrace, we felt so sophisticated

The sun was blazing so we had breakfast on the terrace. There was no porridge which Lu had been looking forward to – though she never eats it at home – so being my child she ordered a plate of bacon and a fresh strawberry cocktail. I had a salad of watermelon with yoghurt, lime and coconut which was fantastic, and of course – coffee. The terrace was extremely comfortable, cushions, throws, anything you could want. We had let time get way from us while we were watching the news and so packed up quickly after breakfast and lazed around on the lawn again, this time on bench which Lu much preferred and waited until we were collected and whisked off of a lovely family lunch.

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Lu dressed as Dorothy. She loves a dress up outfit

The other slight disappointment, apart from the noisy room, was that the hotels website picture gallery showed children river swimming and Lu and I were rather excited by this, we even brought our swim suits. However, when I asked at reception they said they hadn’t heard of anyone swimming in the river, I had to bring up their website on my phone to show then the photos but still nothing.

 

As a complete aside, and by a very strange coincidence, I have actually been to that hotel twice before when it was in its old form, both times with my ex husband, for a huge family birthday party and then for a family wake. It had not occurred to me it was the same place until we turned not the car park, small world huh?

The Great House underwent a huge refurbishment last year and looks nothing like it did.

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One of the many cute dogs we encountered

Lulu and I had a wonderful time, all the staff were simply delightful and made us feel so welcome, we even go smiles and waves as we left the car park. I would go back and stay in a heartbeat. I am very envious of the locals, they get to pop in whoever they want. However, it does seem to be a great place to hold a wedding……

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Saturday night at the movies

Well actually it’s a Friday night and the film is watched at home…

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I am one of those people who can never decide if I like routine in life or if that gets too dull and I need to mix it up a bit. So, I have come to the conclusion that having a few traditions is nice but too many makes life feel prescribed. The beauty of having Lu is that I can now start to invent lovely new family traditions for her and me, probably a reaction to my somewhat flux filled childhood, but whatever the reason one of the things that Lu and I do together is our Friday Film Night.  She chooses the film, but to avoid having to watch the same Barbie film each week I usually preempt it by ordering a film from Amazon that I can bear to watch happily. This means that I can revisit some of my childhood favorites. Recent screenings have included- Labyrinth (when Bowie died), Pinnochio – which neither of us liked, Despicable Me 2 – again, The Secret Life of Pets, Finding Dory, Top Dog – a dreadful American childrens film about a sausage dog race which I may be forced to ‘lose’ lest she makes me watch it again. There has also been a variety of Barbie films (I bought a box set, I know!) which aren’t that bad really. My GP told me that Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses was her favorite (most bearable) when her kids were little, I love my doctor.

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I  make popcorn (in the microwave, I’m not that good) and I order those cardboard cinema popcorn boxes online so we have the whole experience but before the popcorn Lu and I have a bubble bath together, get into our pyjamas, light some candles and light the open fire if it is chilly. Then have a little carpet picnic made up of all the things she has requested that I buy from M&S on the way home from work. Usually hummus, carrots, chorizo slices, cherry tomatoes and crisps. As Friday is also Lulu’s Sweetie day (mean mummy, sweets only on the weekend) we usually end up with Percy Pigs too. It is the best time, I relish it, and she is always so excited about Fridays because of it.

If I am having a bad day illness wise and am just too tired and overwhelmed we get into my lovely super king size bed and watch the film on my TV or the IPad, and have our little picnic there. No damn illness is going to spoil my time with my baby.

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A slight caveat; Lulu now does Beavers on a Friday night from 6-7.15pm so we have a Saturday or Sunday Movie Night instead. But never fear, she still gets her sweets on a Friday.

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Sometimes I let my mum join in…

This is it, this time I know it’s the real thing

No, this isnt about love, its about something far more important. My PhD. I wrote a little while ago about having to give it up after many years of planning and one short term at uni. At the beginning of this year my Supervisor sat me down and did some honest talking – my favourite kind. I really wasn’t well enough to get all the required work done and was already behind – arghhh, so she said “Take some time off, get better, come back and start again.” So I listened to her. I wept a bit, but I completely agreed. In fact I was so distraught that I went for a run – I know!!!! Clearly I was out of my mind with sadness and confusuion..

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Just wanted to post cute pics of my puppy

The idea was always to start again this September but I must be honest and say that there have been many times when I felt that it would be impossible, that I wasn’t really improving very much health wise and that I would never be able to do it. I want to be realistic and I feel a little pressurised, all self inflicted. If I started again in September and it doesn’t work out and I have to give up again it will be the absolute end, I just won’t be able to muster the energy to contemplate a third attempt.

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Sleepy puppy

But I am feeling a little improved and being realistic this may be the best I ever get health wise, it could get worse or better but I can only deal with the here and now. So I had a chat with my liver Consultant, who I have been seeing for may years, and he said “just do it, it will be fine”, so I emailed my Supervisor last week and said “please have me back” and she said “of course”.

I have no idea what will happen between  now and September but at the moment I am feeling really really excited about going back to uni. Of course I shall still be working full time, I am still a single mum but that is all fine with me, I’ve taken those things into account, it will be hard, it would be for a completely well and able person, but I am ready. Now, if only I hadn’t spent all my refunded fees money on clothes and expensive candles to cheer myself up!

Ps The images of Livia. my mini sausage, has nothing to do with the content of this post but who doesn’t love a cute puppy picture?

Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?

As a lawyer I am very familiar with the ‘clean break’ theory that is trotted out when discussing divorce but obviously when one had children, providing all is well with both parties, then this is just not possible, financially or personally.

So where does that leave the grown ups? In general, and as far as can be expected, my relationship with my ex husband regarding Lucia is pretty much based on reading from the same hymn sheet. However since she lives with me and he moved an hour and half away there are some decisions that I make for Lu that aren’t going to go in his favor but realistically someone will inevitably lose in situations like this on occasion.

I have no interest whatsoever in my husbands life, beyond his relationship with Lucia. Of course his health is important to me as he needs to be able to look after Lu but we aren’t friends, it isn’t how he wants the relationship to work despite my suggestions and that is fine – kind of. Being honest, I still find it odd that he can walk out on me after 14 years and feel ok about throwing all that history and shared experiences away, but each to their own.

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A few weeks after my ex husband left

But (isn’t there always a but?) recently my ex husband’s girlfriend of 4 years broke up with him. This was further complicated by the fact that he lived with her and her two young children. This of course had a knock on effect on Lulu which of course had a knock on effect on me. When did life get so complicated? That my ex husband’s break up should effect me in any way is ridiculous but of course Lulu was very upset as her dad was moving out of the house she stayed in with him, his home. Also the fact that she wasn’t going to see her dad’s girlfriend’s children anymore all added to making her feel very unsettled and I was left picking up the pieces. Through gritted teeth mind, muttering “for fucks sake hasn’t this six year old had enough disruption?” grrrrr. Next came Lucia’s expectation that now her father was single he would be moving back in with us. She was utterly heartbroken when I explained that wasn’t going to be happening as that wasn’t what her father wanted. Lucia’s distress and the tears she cried while I cuddled her broke my own heart all over again. It truly feels so bloody unfair.

 

Everywhere I am there you’ll be

I had an awful dream this week. I was about four months pregnant and my waters broke and I knew that I would lose the baby but I went about my everyday life. Not able to accept the inevitable but being so so sad as I knew it was hopeless and the loss felt overwhelming. I thought if I can keep the baby inside me everything will be okay and none of this is real.

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Didn’t think she would make it through the night, day 5 after she was born

And the reason this was so realistic and horrible is because I had lost a number of babies before I was luckily enough to have my daughter, Lucia. With each of those pregnancies I got a little further along before the sonographer said ‘I’m really sorry I can’t find a heart beat’. When I was pregnant with Lucia my waters broke at 28 weeks and while I thought ‘oh, how lovely we will be able to take our baby home later today, earlier than planed but hey ho’, Not able to accept that really it was unlikely she would live and really I thought that this was just another pregnancy that was a little further along than the others and that realistically I would probably have another number of miscarriages before we actually managed to carry a baby to full term, ridiculous huh?.  As if that is how it works, that you get a bit further along each time you are pregnant until you hit the magic 40 week mark. But my 28 weeker did live, nine week in intensive care and then we could take her home,

With miscarriages, or in my experience anyway, once you are told your baby no longer has a heart beat you can wait for ‘nature to take its course’ and expel the baby or you can have an operation to have it removed. They do these ops on specific days of the week so you carry your dead baby inside you for at least a few days. These are only really options with early miscarriages. I know this sounds disturbing to some but to me I wanted to keep my baby inside me as long as possible, keeping it safe. I didn’t drink during my pregnancies but when I knew the babies had died I could have a drink if I wanted but the act of swallowing that first sip of wine felt so final, that when I took that sip it was acknowledging that the baby I was carrying was dead.

And then this week, a few days after my dream, a Facebook memory popped up of me at a cousin’s wedding a few years ago (see main picture). It was a few days after I had found out I was pregnant with my first baby and I was so thrilled. Little did I know that a few weeks later I would be in A&E bleeding and then a few weeks later being told ‘I’m really sorry…’.

Maybe subconsciously I had remembered that this time of year is the anniversary of my first pregnancy, I don’t know, but it made me feel sad. I always feel sad when I think of my lost babies, it make me weep, that never changes. The passage of time has enabled me to be able to not wake up crying even morning, to not cry every time I see a new born baby in the street, but the intensity of the pain in my broken heart doesn’t change however it no longer stops me in my tracks.

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The day Lucia came home after 9 weeks in intensive care

I wholeheartedly believe that having Lucia has helped me deal with my grief hugely. I am grateful every day that I am lucky enough to have her, she isn’t a replacement for my lost babies, but for me I knew that the only thing that would help me after losing my babies was to have a baby in my arms. This isn’t the same for all people, I know this. I wanted to try and get pregnant again as soon as I had physically recovered from the operations but my ex husband was reticent, he thought I needed to psychologically recover first but I was desperate, I wanted/needed a baby. Getting pregnant was never a problem, usually happened with in the first two months of trying. Keeping them alive inside me was the problem. I found great comfort in the people and forums on social media I encountered who were going through  the same thing. Whenever someone got pregnant you wished them luck and hoped that they had a #stickybean.

So, am I feeling nostalgic as a friend has commented? yes, I think I am, but not in a ‘wasn’t that a wonderful time, if I only I could relive it’, but in a ‘goodness wasn’t that a painful time in my life, and my, it still hurts now.’ I will be mindful of my self, look for signs that I am getting depressed and address them should they appear. But right now I am just a little wistful, wondering what the babies would have looked like, missing them and grieving them still, as I shall always do.

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Now its just Lulu and me, her daddy left when she was two. She is my hope, my reason and my love. xxx