Day 63 – when the sun goes down the stars come out

Saturday 15th September

I had a lovely evening yesterday with another one of my soul sisters kerri (I like this soul sister saying, there are only a few people in my life who I would say are my true soul sisters, she is fits the criteria, one of those people who you meet and instantly fell like you have known them all them all you life ) we drank lots of wine and generally chatted shit.

Of course I spoke about Findley last night, Kerri has fur babies, and her heart breaks for the loss of her fur babies in the past, but she said to me, this can’t be a patch on losing someone that is part of you. It’s true Findley is a little part of james and me. A few people have made that comment and I though surely loss is loss, but now I think people are probably right. There is something about the unconditional love for your children, all you want to do is protect them and keep them safe. I see that in how my mum try desperately to take my hurt away when we lost Findley. Unfortunately there isn’t anything anyone can do to fix the pain. It’s just a case of riding the grief! I saw her struggle to accept this, and I now can completely understand how and why she felt like this. I feel very lucky to have a Mum that cares so much, she has been an important part in placing things back together, and surviving this journey. She is also a strong warrior Mum! I think if I am half the mother she is, I will be amazing.

I explained too that the loss of Findley isn’t just grief for the loss of my baby boy, it’s also the loss of hopes and dreams. That the really hard part of carrying on. There is acceptance of death, you see you baby still and silent in your arms. However hope and dreams are what make us who we are. They give us a reason to live, to breath to carry on. When your hopes and dreams are shattered, there are several stages to coping with this, but ultimately the only way to survive and arrive at the other side of the journey is to have the guts to hope and dream again.

I have become really selfish now, not in a mean girls kind of way, just in a put me first kind of way. Then I think am I selfish, or is this a necessity to survive this journey.? Do I worry about being selfish and upsetting people because I am so used to putting others first, helping and supporting them, that helping and supporting myself, I see as selfish? I wonder to myself how many other people think that putting themselves first is selfish? Maybe to truly support others you must first believe and support yourself!

As the days roll by I start to understand the new me a little better, I keep saying that I am a better person from this journey, a strong mummy warrior. I must admit that sometime I see that glimpse of the new me, and I love her, she strong, fierce and relentless. I was probably all this before but never took the time to be proud of who, I was as a person, to busy focusing on the parts of me that weren’t perfect. To busy worrying about what other though. Or how I might upset them. To busy trying to be liked, for me.

I know I use the word survive a lot, but that is how it felt, I don’t think it feels so much like this I now, but in the early dark day all we did is survive. Now it’s a struggle between finding the balance between grieving for my boy, and living life to it’s full, without feeling guilty.

I lay at the top of Dunnydeer today squinting into the sky, thinking of my baby boy, listening to his songs he used to like to dance in my belly to. Finding it hard to be sad, the tears don’t come as easily as they once did. I hope this is a good sign, and not a suppression of my feelings. Maybe I am starting to believe that everything is going to be okay, and that I have nothing more to worry about.