Changes

There are many things that are now hard to accept in life. Looking back at old photos is a strange one. I don’t feel like the person I see in those photos anymore. The photo above was taken at my brother’s wedding. This is one of the last photos before my life turned on it’s head. A week later I would have my 12 week scan and my screening tests would be returned as high risk. I don’t remember how it feels to be that person, she seems like a lifetime ago now. Within a year from that photo my beautiful baby girl would have spent her time on this earth and fallen asleep forever. My brain has not coped with my world changing so traumatically in such a short amount of time. 

I listen a lot to podcasts now, trying to catch up with all those I missed out on over the years up until now. I really find them therapeutic, like you are part of a conversation even when you are alone. I really enjoy Happy Place, Fearne Cotton’s podcast. Many of you know I am an advocate for looking after your mental health and this is what this podcast discusses. Something that many of her guests touch upon is the role of their children in grounding them and bringing them back down to earth. How much their mental well-being is intrinsically linked to being a parent. It’s beautiful, but it kicks me right in the stomach every time it is said. I know I am a mum, but knowing that and having no child to come home to is unbearable. It makes me feel like a failure. For me coming home to no little girl, never having brought her home, knowing what is meant to be our home was never hers, is so far from feeling grounded. How do you continue to face every day knowing that you’ll never be fully at peace again? Everything will always be tinged in sadness. 

Something I find hard is to read so many posts on social media ‘complaining’ about children being at home everyday. Don’t get me wrong these are often funny, tongue in cheek posts, with what I know to be truth in the background. They still hurt. I can’t help but look at those posts and wish I could be posting funny little rants or anecdotes about my child. I laugh at some, children are wonderfully honest and funny, but I will never see how Evelyn’s own personality would have developed. In this time of isolation I can’t really get away from it either. Spending so much time in our house emphasises that she’s not here. 

Please know that I am not telling anyone that they shouldn’t complain about their own children, that is your reality and you have every right to voice whatever you feel. It’s just the reality I wish I had and it breaks my heart every time I have to acknowledge I don’t.