….I wish I could say all of that and more…..

happy birthday 3rd

To My Dearest Elliot

It’s the 6th December 2015 so what would I say if I could say anything …

‘I love you to infinity and beyond’, is what I would say…. Because all little boys love Toy Story…

‘Happy Birthday’ is what I would say….

…..And God only knows how much I wish I could say all of that and more…..

I wish I could lie with you and stroke your chubby cheeks while you sleep, I wish I could hold you tightly in my arms when you were tired, sad or ill, I wish I could be annoyed with you for drawing on my walls and frustrated with you for peeing in your pants for the 100th time that day.

I wish all of those things and more….

So today your 3 and if you were here it would be your special day, you would wake up so early that the sun would not of even begun to peep over the horizon. We would all be greeted by your chubby face and rosey red pouty grin, and through our gritty eyes still filled with sleepy dust we would all clumber together in one room and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you.  You would clap and jump on the spot like a springy toy, and filled with childish excitement you would then turn to Daddy and say “where are my pwezents?, and Daddy would smile and pick you up and spin you around, you would squawk with joy as daddy holds you tightly and lets you walk on the walls whilst you pretend to be Spider-Man, just like your older brother Toby used to when he was 3, you would be yelling and whooping with happiness….

Lilly-Ella would get your presents carefully wrapped for you, you’d bundle over boisterously and without a second thought you begin tearing strips off the presents before Lilly-Ella has managed to even put them on the ground…she would smirk as if knowing that this is what you would do.

Cheering and throwing the paper in the air like confetti, screaming out the name of each toy and immediately starting on the next gift as if taking part in some sort of speed challenge…

A woody………….. some lego………… a hammer………….some more lego…….A teddy ….. a fireman helmint!

People would come and go all day long visiting you on your special day and bringing you more gifts, we would all sing ‘Happy Birthday’ grouped about the birthday cake, a big cake shaped like a digger with 3 large musical candles on… you would blow and blow and blow and the candles just won’t go out so Isla takes over and does it for you.

You eat so much cake, I’ve never seen anyone polish off so much chocolate and keep it down…

After all the cake, you pop all the balloons with your brothers and sisters, jumping out of your skin every time one pops, as if it’s a new sensation. We all look on and laugh, belly like howls of laughter, and as the day draws to an end and you are beginning to get a little fractious for you are so tired and full of cake!

I change you in to a new pair of birthday fleecy pyjamas and we sit together and snuggle, I sing a quiet hum in your ear, a final rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ and your asleep before I finish the first verse, a soft and comforting snuffle of pleasure comes from you as you visit your dreams, I stroke your head and kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear…. I LOVE YOU TO INFINITY AND BEYOND MY SWEET ELLIOT, SLEEP TIGHT! X.

I wish I could do all of that and more……..

RIP My Sweet Child of 3!





Dear Guilt….

Dear Guilt

I am writing to you; to exercise some ghosts! Three in fact! I feel that you, “Guilt”, have become a part of my psyche, and a part of who I am. I really don’t want to feel like this forever. So I have to find a way of setting you free.

‘Guilt’ I need to be rid of you. I don’t need to be reminded every day of those fateful days, having to feel the pain and relive this tragedy over and over. I wish I could just be me again, a me without “guilt”, but realistically I know that you are just an additional new layer of me and that you’ll never go away, because guilt is what I feel, you are deeply embedded within my very being, your audible in every single heartbeat, your visible in my mindful thoughts, and when I close my eyes, you consume me.

So I guess if I can’t be rid of you I have to learn to live with you…. Now this is the tricky bit! I have to tell you … “Guilt, you’re not easy to live with! …. That metaphorical Idiom “Elephant in the room” is an expression that’s well fitting to how I feel about you!

I have deliberated, rationalised, and I have been counselled by various professionals assisting me on my path with guidance to resolve this torment I hold within. I deserve to be loved, I deserve happiness and I deserve to live my life and not let life pass me by while I spend it being taunted with “what if’s” and “maybe’s”, my children deserve a mother who is focussed on giving them the best I can possibly give, and love them without fear that they will be stolen from my grasp, and my husband deserves a wife that is all of the above and more. So, Guilt, here we are, it is what it is, nothing can change it, but we need to learn to get along before there is nothing left of my soul that’s worth saving, your destroying me slowly, devouring and eating away at what’s left!

I put it to you that from this day forward you need to take a step back, you need to compartmentalise yourself in a safe place deep within, because you need to allow me to breath a breath that doesn’t sting the back of my throat, you need to allow me to look at pictures of my sons without stinging my eyes with acidic tears, you need to allow me to speak out the names of my little boys without wanting to crumble at the sound of the letters as they leave my lips!

If you can agree to the above terms, I will allow you something, something that you need, something that you require to exist within me. I will give you… Time! Once a year, I will allow you time to engulf me and my entirety with ‘guilt’ and we can battle it out between us until the sun sets upon my three baby boys resting place, until the night sky draws close and I am emotionally exhausted and drained from all human emotion.

You have stolen time from me, I am angry, and I am hurt, and because I allowed you to control me, I have missed out on precious time with my children; alive and in spirit, this time that you stole from me and I will never get that back, and if I could, I would make you pay, I would make you suffer like I have, for every second that you took from me. I became a person I didn’t recognise and person I didn’t like and that’s a hard place to recover from.

So from today, I will take control of my “life” and “Guilt”. I’ve survived the worse, so, I have a few more scars, a damaged heart, and a part of me that will never be the same, but I am still me, a slightly wiser and worn version of the old me. I just lost my way, I lost that bit of me, that got up in the morning and stuck my middle finger up to the world and said “bring it on bitch, and give it your best shot”

So from me to you Guilt, this is the deal, take it or leave it, you are now my past, get back in Pandora’s Box and I’ll meet you on the 6th December 2014 at West Street Cemetery, Dunstable.
Until Then…….. F**K YOU!

New Beginning….

I haven’t blogged since October 2013 and I don’t know why today is any different, my head hurts, my hands are trembling, my eyes are red and my throat stings as I fight the urge to scream and cry at the same time. Since October I have started a new job, my marriage has broken down and my ex husband and I are strangers to each other, it would of been Elliot’s 1st birthday, it would of been his first Christmas, its was our first Christmas as a broken family, and I have entered in 2014 feeling …. totally broken!

Living in my head feels very messy and cluttered lately, I can’t seem to think straight or rationalise anything properly any more, a new wave of emotions swamp my very muddled mind. Anger, confusion, sadness that cuts so deep I fear nothing will repair my damaged soul!

I’m more lost then I was a year ago, I’m less of woman, less of friend and mother, and the reflection I see in the mirror is staring back at me and I look terrified that I’m out of control, I feel like I am standing at a crossroads with no idea where to go, so now I have to make some choices, some life changing choices to change this destructive path I am stumbling down, but how do you begin to help yourself when you don’t even know where to start. “At the beginning” I hear you say, for if only it was that simple….

Beginning of what? Again and again I have started over, picked myself up, brushed myself down, painted on the lippy and brushed on the mascara, and with a fine set of heels I put my best foot forward and’ keep on keepin on’ only to be thrown off the path again and again. I am left feeling hopeless and utterly overwhelmed about my future. My mind has overheated and I am having real difficulties in communicating what I want to do and how I want to fix myself.

There are obvious times when we consider grief to be a natural reaction to life circumstances like when someone has died or moved away or when an important job or possession is lost or a marriage or relationship breaks down. But grief is not only stimulated by losing someone, grief is also an emotion we feel when someone loses a way of living or a way of looking at themselves which had been a way of life for them. My life has changed so dramatically in such a short time its very hard to come to terms with, and acceptance for what has happened seems like “forever away”.

I have embarked on a journey of counselling and its shaken everything up – my beliefs, my personality, and my sense of reality. After a couple of sessions, it appears I am suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, this shocked me and naively it was completely unexpected. ME!!! I was always the strong person, the person people come to for help and advice, the fighter, the good time gal that REFUSES to sink….. so I feel weak, downtrodden and defeated.

So I ask myself WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS TITLE I HAVE BEEN given….. I always wanted letters after my name but PTSD was not the sort of letters I was imagining….

I begin to look into this a bit deeper to get an idea of my new “label” and try and work out where this “beginning” is?

My findings were scarily accurate I find myself ticking yes to a lot of boxes and realising the counsellor woman I was so terrified of seeing could be right!!! So do I have vivid flashbacks and a feeling that the trauma is happening all over again…. YES I do… and I fear that it will happen again to my living children.

I cant get the image of Louis, Corey and Elliot out of my head, the image of them and their last moments of life haunt my mind daily, every day I relive the days all three died, when my mind isn’t busy, and I have time to reflect those days are relived and every painful memory is replayed in my head again and again, so I guess that’s why I fill my day with task after task and chore after chore.
Do I have intrusive thoughts and images in my head – another YES, the image of my dead children, is a an image that won’t leave. I see myself as the third person in my head, and I am holding Elliot in my arms as he lays lifeless, kissing his face and sobbing. I’m holding Corey and his tiny premature body so fragile and he bleeds from his nose and mouth and I am sobbing, feeling helpless. The final image is Louis and his last tiny breath he took in my arms and the feeling of utter shock and devastation.

I avoid almost everything about them by keeping busy, avoiding situations that remind me of the days my life changed forever. I feel detached from my emotions that surround the losses of my baby boys, I feel numb and I feel its affected the way I parent my living children. I don’t plan anything too far ahead, my opinion of my future doesn’t feel like it used to, it feels bleak.

I am angry a lot of the time, irritable and often feel aggressive, my concentration is poor and I have become so forgetful, I leave myself notes to remind me of the notes I have already wrote, and I laugh about it thinking to myself ….. AM I UTTERLY INSANE!!! My sleeping pattern is diabolical and I’m awake more than I sleep, but I am tired, I am so tired…. tired of feeling this way.

So I guess this is the beginning….. beginning of a new journey!

One step at a time …

It’s been a while since my last blog, there are a few reasons for this, some of which are commonly known as ‘I cant be arsed reasons’ and ‘there are never enough fecking hours in the day’ reasons; but the other more sincere reason was, that I was finding wearing my heart on my sleeve to reveal my deepest pain to the world of cyberspace quite a surreal experience, although often a comforting experience, however the thought was somewhat daunting at times that I may be judged by people that I have never set eyes on.

So after my time away, where am I?

I’m still battling daily with my emotions, a constant argument in my head with the good the bad and the ugly.

The good, telling me I’m one of life’s survivors and I will not be defeated by grief, and the little friendly voice pushing me on to my next venture in the memory of my three little boys whom I miss so much my whole body aches, the good that always tries to see good, and use my losses to help others.

The bad, is the part of me, that when I listen to people moan and whinge about utter rubbish, when I have to fight the urge to stop my arm raising, my fist clenching and smacking the innocent party straight in between the eyes and shouting out loud…. ‘Now you got something to moan about, that’s not insignificant’ ….

Then there’s the Ugly, the part of me that I am embarrassed to reveal, the part that I am ashamed to admit, the part that’s jealous, that’s vindictive and quite frankly very angry and bitter. The good part occasionally dipping in to whisper “its ok to feel like this” but the bad taking over and stomping the arse out of all rationality of thinking…

But as much as I tell myself there are good days and bad days, nothing prepares me for when the emotion takes over; it creeps out of nowhere, like the monster you dreamt of as a child, like the how the darkness of night swamps the daylight sunshine in what seems like a millisecond come the winter months.

But as for my earlier question where I am right now …..

I am still living after still birth, but still wishing things were different and still wondering who the person is that looks back at me through the mirror! I feel like I am in a transitional point between the pain of grief and the pain of accepting grief….


Time is the Ultimate Healer….or not?

There’s an age old saying that tells us: “Time is the Ultimate Healer.” I have stayed true to this phrase and believed it although lately, I find myself questioning it. What is so magically powerful about “time” that it can heal us? Do seconds, minutes and hours contain a remedy that can be harvested and administered to broken hearts all over the world?

I’ve deliberated and contemplated and my belief is time heals nothing; you just learn to live with the anguish and torment. As the minutes and hours turn into days and the days turn into weeks they then flow into months and add up to years, putting time between the devastation and the future life.

When you reflect the pain is still is real as it was then, only what happens after time is acceptance, and acceptance is key to the word ‘time’ within the phrase “Time is the Ultimate Healer”

What I think happens in the time that passes prior to ‘acceptance’ is sadness, depression, anxiety, shame, hopelessness, anger, bitterness, confusion, jealousy, relief, fear, regret, guilt, abandonment, to name but a few of the rollercoaster of emotions. Grief evokes many thoughts like, “I should have done more,” “I should have known,” “I’m a failure,” “I can’t survive this,” “I’ll never be the same” and so on.

So use your time wisely and spend it healing yourself. Get to know the new YOU the person you become after tragedy and loss and with that acceptance will evolve.

The Up and Coming Post Mortem of Elliot

Will it change things? Will it help me grieve? Will it give me answers? And will those answers help me in anyway?

I went to the cemetry tohis morning and I rested a posy on the cross where Elliot lays, I  took some plastic weather battered cars from the grave of Louis and Corey who rest beside him and again I think this place is bleak and whenever I visit, I feel cold, so cold, shivery cold, no matter what the weather is I guess Im just feeling empty which manifests itself into this coldness I’m feeling. I’m staring at the bleak graves of three little boys and I wonder if actually the post mortem I am so desperatley waiting for will actually do me any good, or help me in anyway?

We often need to identify a ‘scapegoat’ to enable us to fix blame on that in order to relieve tension stress and grief within ourselves . So I wonder if I manage to recieve such answers do I want them for me or for my children, because for me nothing will change, I will still have aching arms, I will still have a broken heart, and it certainly wont bring Elliot back but the answers I get may provide me with a new outlet of ‘blame’ rather than blaming myself.

I think honestly and most importantly I want answers for my children because this tragedy is hard enough for me to understand and I am struggling to find the words to explain my living children why this has happened, I dont know myself, so how do I even start to try and find the words to try and comfort them with their loss. 

How do I answer questions like..

‘Mummy, am I going to die?’

‘Mummy, why did you put my brothers in the ground?’,

‘Mummy, when are you and Daddy going to die?’

‘Mummy, is father christmas going to bring Elliot back?’

When a child’s loved one dies, their lives change forever.  As well as the sadness they feel, they are often left confused and full of fear and anxiety. Maybe answers to this Post Mortem will help to make sense of the hurt and confusion. Above all, help them find ways out of the abyss of grief…

So for me no amount of answers will make me feel better but for three innocent children having ‘facts’ can be easier to explain…