Friday 26th April
As I write this I am currently sitting on our balcony listening to the sea waves lapping below. The air is so warm and I am sipping a mojito eating banana crisps. I am shattered, we have been on the go since 8am yesterday, three flights later we are happily in Phuket. It’s 11pm here so am away to hit my bed and get some decent sleep, super excited to see the view from our room tomorrow.
I think this is a very big first since Findley was born, and I definitely struggled on Thursday sitting just on the edge of being okay. I was distracted with all the running from terminals in Heathrow, but as soon as I sat on the plane going to Dubai, I started to cry about something so silly, but it was just an excuse and it ended up turning into an ugly silent snot cry.
As I sat there crying over something so ridiculous my grieving mother took hold of me, and I cried because the last time I sat in this flight I was 19 weeks pregnant with my beautiful little boy, and he died, and I would do anything to go back and relive it all again, even for the same outcome just to feel him kicking and hiccuping again, just to feel him live! I had to catch myself before I fall to hard, I reminded myself that he died and there is not anything I can do to change what happened. I have amazing memories, and I carry him with me were ever we go.
I had to repeat this over and over in my head, and remind myself that I must live this life, I must look after me, and my memories, and I must not allow my self to fall down the rabbit hole.
It’s funny how one minute you completely feel normal, sitting drinking wine and enjoying life, and for that second you have forgotten all the pain the last 9 months have given you. The death of our son, then the loss of our daughter, I just felt like me, but I had to keep catching myself with tears in my eyes every time I remind how life should be.
So I feel like it’s a very big first to have achieved and first are always the hardest, I said to James I don’t think it will be the last tear I shed on this holiday either, but am hoping that the sun and sand is good for the soul and they help us heal just a little bit each day. I hope we get to come back just a little bit fuller.
I also remind myself how it’s okay to just not be okay, holding in my tears for the fear of upsetting James or ruining our holiday will just make me ill.
So here is to a nice two weeks, some new memories and some more first to come I am sure. I know my babies are with me, just out of reach, proud of their mummy and daddy for grabbing life by the short and curlies and trying to live again.