Graced by an Angel

Nearly 8 weeks down the line I thought I’d dedicate a post to the one person I seriously could not have done without.

This person came into my life three years ago whilst attending groups at our local Children’s Centre. Her son is 2 months younger than DS and we called them the Children’s Centre buddies as we only ever met up here (aside from birthday parties) as we were always the ones that attended the courses run there.

About a year and half ago we started hanging out more (I can’t recall why, but I’m so glad we did) and more. She was in the latter stages of pregnancy with her second son when we really became firm friends.

Since then we’ve done so much together, only tarnished a little by a period where our sons didn’t ‘play well’ together and could only really meet up when her eldest was at school.

She truly is the most remarkably selfless person I’ve ever met. Despite her own mental health struggles she puts everyone else before herself. She threw me a surprise birthday party last year where she laid on the most incredible spread, even incorporating Slimming World goodies simply for me.

She threw me my surprise (only ruined by a random at a party a few weeks before it) baby shower, something I never thought I’d be privy to.

Then she did the ultimate.

Despite having two children of her own she decided she would look after DS when I went into labour.

As it turned out it couldn’t have gone our way more if we’d planned it that way.

She dropped everything at 7pm to come over on that fateful night.

Noah awoke in the morning and leant over her saying “Are you Mummy, or G?”. 

She then dealt with what followed with what I can only describe as pure love for our little boy.

She had bought him presents (should ours not ‘hit the mark’). She took him to our usual swimming session so 1) he didn’t miss out, and 2) to keep some sort of normality. She then took him back to hers to play with them (this was the turning point for our older boys… since this day they have got on like a house on fire once more). She took them all to the park, to the car boot, to a bouncy castle. She bought him gifts. She took him to the supermarket to buy him what he wanted for his lunch and tea.

She messaged me continually throughout the day with photos of their exploits. She never mentioned the tears (though there weren’t many after the initial upset in the morning – he didn’t have time!), she just showed me the fun and the smiles and for this I’m most grateful for.

I sent OH home from the hospital at about 3 so he could do the evening routine.

He found him happy, full of stories and completely at ease.

I swear to god I have no idea what I would have done without this amazing woman.

When you have a child and don’t have parents nor a support network, life is full on and relentless and the prospect of labouring can be an incredibly traumatic thought and event.

I fretted for months over what we’d do. We had plans and back up plans but none were ideal.

This wonderful human being stepped in and took all that worry away.

I can not thank her enough and don’t know who I’d be without her.

When I get round to getting my children christened I do hope she will agree to god parent them. I can’t think of a more suitable, positive and selfless person to have in their lives.

I love her from deep within my soul and thank her from the bottom of my heart.

A Life Changing Decision

I found out late last night that OH is off to the Dr this morning to book in for ‘the snip’.

I actually sobbed this morning with the realisation I will never be pregnant again, never experience those beautiful movements from within, never experience birth again, never hold my own tiny baby again.

Don’t get me wrong I knew he wanted to do it, and I agree with it to a certain extent. I feel at 43 (very nearly 44, but still hanging on) alone we have rolled the dice twice and risked so many age related ‘complications’ that maybe a third time we wouldn’t be quite so ‘lucky’. Then there’s the actual getting pregnant bit, coupled with the very real risk of yet another miscarriage meaning we could be heading into late-40s territory if we did do it again and I already feel I’m too old for the two I have. I don’t want to leave my children parentless at a young age and being the age we are this is more likely than their peers.

Yet still I sob. 

When I finally decided that I did want children, I wanted three children. I’m one of three and probably this is why I wanted this amount. In recent times I’ve found myself ‘knowing’ that had I started earlier I may well have ended up with even 4 or 5.

However, I didn’t and this is where we find ourselves, yet still I mourn.

Many years ago my SIL had to have a hysterectomy, she was in her mid to late 40s. My brother and she had, years previously, already decided they weren’t having children but she struggled. I remember (in my unknowing youth) wondering why she was so upset when she didn’t want children anyway, but my mum told me that it was their choice not to have children but now her body has taken that choice away and decided for her and that’s where she struggled.

I now know how she feels.

I know that we’re not going to have more but once this procedure is done it’s final.

There’s no going back.

The decision is out of my hands.

I find myself realising that I like to live with a glimmer of hope. Something to hold onto even when you know that it’s not going to happen.

When my mum was in her final weeks and days I clung on to a belief she was sooooo sick because of an infection, not the cancer that had rampaged through her poor body. It got me through and I find myself now realising this is how I deal with everything in life.

It’s funny, when we were trying for Peanut, and actually even when we were trying for DS, I kept saying that if it happens it happens and if it doesn’t then that’s that and I was okay with that. I would have no regrets for not atleast giving it a go even though fate chose a different path for us. 

I find myself there again, wanting to leave it in the hands of the gods, but this way I know, absolutely know, that I will never birth another child again, and with this I struggle.

Manchester

Great Britain woke up to the most dreadful of news this morning. I read it at 3am when woken by Peanut demanding her latest feed.

I’m speechless about this latest, in a longline, of atrocities carried out in the name of one god or another but what makes this one particularly atrocious is that this one targeted an event which was predominantly filled with children.

Children.

Innocent children.

So with that in mind and that over the next few days more children will be named as the victims of this hateful crime I hug my two even tighter tonight, I hold them longer, I kiss them harder and love them deeper.

My heart, prayers and thoughts go to those victims, and their poor heartbroken families of the Manchester Arena bombing and weep for them.

Rest in Peace