Monthly Archives: January 2017

I Never Wanted Just Memories.

Have you ever watched Grey’s Anatomy? 
I don’t want to say too much, for anyone who hasn’t yet watched any of the series. One of the Doctors as part of an ending to a season lost her beloved fiancee. She didn’t want to leave him at the hospital, torn away from the person she loved so much, she had to eventually say goodbye.

Once home, she placed herself on the floor, in her clothes, there she stayed, unmoved, unwashed mainly unspoken for days…


I never did the wallow, lie on the floor shut everything out thing. I couldn’t stay in bed, I didn’t want to stay in bed, I have other children. And I am thankful.
Right now as we’re nearing her 5th birthday, constant countdowns. The one thing I actually want to do is to just lie on the floor, stare at the ceiling, say nothing, do nothing. 
Shut myself away. 
My whole body feels heavy, I can at times feel myself falling, lower and lower, the strength that people assume I have is going. It is tired, it is weak.
It is meant to get easier.
Or so I am told.
I cannot help the way I feel, no pill is going to change that she died.
I’m not ill.
I know each year the run up is always the worst part. 
Those who understand know just how hard the lead up is.
I thought it would get easier.

This time 5 years ago we we’d had our 20 week scan, we knew our baby was healthy,and of course the gender. Wow, pink or blue, how exciting?! Baby’s legs were crossed. We had another 19 weeks to find out.
Five years is knocking me on my ass.  I am drowning. 
How the hell can it possibly be this long?

“Shouldn’t I be over that by now?”  
” Don’t think about it. “

I can’t erase her, I can’t forget her, forget what has happened.  
In desperation believe me I have tried.  
Only makes me feel worse for trying to forget she ever existed. 
Guilt.
Times where I have wished that I never met her, or had hope.
But at the same time, I still would have chosen her.

Times where I wished she was “the Angel in the clouds”.
Because it is easier.

I know I’m OK, I know this is normal, well as normal as speaking to other mums who are also 5 years old this year.  
So before you think in your head, I need help.  I don’t.  Empty pities.  Empty words. 

This here is all the therapy I need. It helps me. 
This year, right now I feel as raw as I did back then.
I am allowed to feel unbelievably sad.
I still never expected this.
I expected to feel OK. 
It is after all nearly five years. 
How the fuck is it five years? 
Still have 6 weeks plus another 5 weeks to go.  
So forgive me if right now I don’t have the strength in me to be OK, the mask has broken.  
To want to lie on the floor, unmoved, untouched.  
To scream until my throat hurts.  
To cry until the tears can no longer fall.  
I have no more fight left in me. 
Because this February she should have been 5. 
It is such a significant number.
She should have come home.
Her outcome should have been so different.

(Her Nanny brought this lamb, along with a balloon to congratulate us whilst we were still in the hospital. This lamb signifies her birth. A New Life, but not necessarily the one we expected).

If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?