Monthly Archives: March 2018

Decode – My Life Before

Decode; is possibly a strange one if I am honest. Decode if you don’t know is a Paramore song, it was part of a soundtrack to the first Twilight film.

Different Life

 

I remember picking up the book, just before my first marriage ended – I can’t even remember why I was drawn to it. It wasn’t long after that my marriage broke down that I needed to rediscover who I was. I found it hard, of course then I didn’t really know what a broken heart felt like – I just thought I did. While I scrabbled about to suss out where I would go in life I found comfort in the form of reading, then friends introduced me to the films. I became lost in the hype of the fandom, lost in this new thing that wasn’t associated with my now new life, at a point where I found it really hard to ever believe that anyone would want me. Then he did.

 

Perfection

Once we’d found each other we had that amazing love (we still do, of course). Life seemed relatively uncomplicated; getting to know each other, holding hands all of the time, lots of public display of affection. We found that stereotypical old fashioned love, everything was perfect. We had a new life ahead of us, a fresh start.

 

Decode

Where I think, I am going with this. Today I came across the song again; not heard it in years an in instant it took me back to when we first started dating; to when we were just a normal couple. I had the two children from the marriage before; we’d spend our evenings either together planning a future of marriage and children, or enjoying a social life. Everything about that song reminds me of how our life was before.

That is how I see my life now, before and after Melody. We spent a measly eleven months of our marriage, wrapped up in honeymoon bliss of promise and hope to our new addition to our new life together. Just eleven months, before the people who lovingly took their vows changed forever. Something as simple as a song, can take you back to somewhere completely different from where we are now. When I played this over and over again, or obsessed over the films and the books; I never expected to have this innocent bubble burst. It may sound silly – it probably is – but it was all a completely different time.

 

My Love

I think I will always worry about the impact the death of our daughter has on our marriage, we really were newlyweds; I have never been able to even enjoy looking back at our album or talking about the celebrations (she was conceived at our blessing, which was held three months after our official wedding day); a big black cloud forever lingers around the thoughts of our special days. We have discussed vow renewal maybe one day, but I guess it wouldn’t change a thing – new memories maybe. I am mostly glad we have each other.

 

Walking down memory lane, listening to the songs that take you right there wishing for that life again, the care free with a hopeful new life – it was easy to have that innocence; that bubble.

I just want us not to have been bereaved parents for most of our married life so far; it is what it is. I wish Melody would have survived, that Decode was part of a love story and not that of a soundtrack of our “before” life.

“I chose the title “Decode” because the song is about the building tension, awkwardness and confusion between Bella and Edward. Bella’s mind is the only one which Edward can’t read and I feel like that’s a big part of the first book and one of the obstacles for them to overcome. It’s one added tension that makes the story even better.”

 

— Hayley Wiliams, in a statement posted by Stephanie Meyer.

 

 

melody and me

Dream Sequence

I met her in my dreams the other night; this is something which I have not done in a very long time.

As much as you’d imagine a dream to have a happier ending it didn’t, but it also wasn’t a nightmare either – at least not the ones I had come to known in the beginning. Death had still found her, but the dream brought me a second chance.

The Dream

A phone call came. I don’t like phone calls; no idea why I am just one of those who just isn’t keen. It was the hospital, a voice I recognised with a background of an echoed reception area –  I knew the sound well; behind the voice, I could hear the long beeps from machines, the long beep which used to tell us she was on too much oxygen – that sound seems to stay.

There had been a mistake, she had somehow been left behind at the hospital; forgotten maybe and that the funeral we thought we’d had for her was just an empty box. Nobody knew how or why it had happened; I was then asked whether we’d like to see her. It was hard to know what to decide; I guess even in my dream it had been years – but we agreed, surely they wouldn’t have offered if there was nothing to see.

When we arrived the people who stood before us seemed shocked; they began to explain that she was somehow perfectly preserved like no time had passed since she had. I wanted to see. The people parted ways to reveal a baby, laid in a cot – peaceful and unmoving. I looked at her Dad and he me; I had to pick her up. As I held her she seemed a little bigger than I had remembered, but it was her, the slight tape embellishments on her cheeks, her little nose much like her siblings, and her fine strawberry blonde hair that covered her head.

Never Let Go.

When she died, we didn’t know that we could have spent more time with her or that there were still more memories to make. I knew this dream would end, but I also knew I had to make the most of it, of her. We bathed her, not once putting her down, kissed her forehead – knowing that her temperature wasn’t right, only made me feel more determined to warm her with love and kisses. I was able to snuggle her in bed, which I never got to do. To sit and choose a coffin whilst holding her in my arms – morbid I know, but it is what is meant to be done when it is one of the last things to do for your baby, we never knew about the choice of tiny coffins. Everything was to happen quickly, I didn’t once put her down. the weight of her felt comfortable in my arm – I didn’t want to let her go again.

But I did. I was able to place her into her new pink coffin, placing her gently on to cotton sheet we had placed for her. It felt all so different.

I got to hold her longer and kiss her more, her eyes remained closed.

As my eyes opened.

 

 

Dreams.

I think I speak of her so much (when I can), during my awake time; that I guess I don’t need to be searching for her in my sleep too. My brain has become so accustomed to knowing that she isn’t with me, that I guess my sleeping mind doesn’t need to search for something my awake mind has gotten used to. I have never dreamed of her as a growing child, again maybe because my brain knows she has gone. I simply can’t imagine what she would have been like.

In the beginning, the nightmares came, mistakes before she died, the most obvious one about – were they 100% sure that she had died. Those dreams faded into nothing, they all stopped. I am glad in a way that I don’t have dreams about who she could have been. I’m as comfortable as I can be with not imagining that.

 

I don’t know why I suddenly had this dream after all this time; I know there is probably the message of regret and things we weren’t able to do with her. For that night, those fictional moments I was able to hold her again.

 

dreams

Melody and Me

Memories. The Weather

The weather is always a big conversation opener, particularly at the moment whilst we have the snow – being in the South West of England, it is the first time since 2013 that we have had any snow to actually speak of. I was pregnant then, with Melody’s little sister, the year before I was pregnant with Melody.

There was snow annually; I remember not wanting to go out in case I slipped – something I have done a lot in the snow; I didn’t want to risk hurting my unborn baby. I remember looking forward to our new baby’s first experience of snow how she would react, lots of wonder.
She never got to see the snow, but the following year I was pregnant again unable to risk the snow again; fearful of making those magical snowy plans.

The winter always reminds me of her, as she was alive and a fully expected baby; it was exciting; which is exactly how it should be when you have a growing bump.
We do obsess with the weather as a nation, most often it does bring people together; where the snow reminds me of her pregnancy; it also brings some memories of her life on the opposite scale.

Heatwave

In the year that she was born – 2012, the whole time she was born we had the most amazing weather, an unusual weather for the time of year (February-April). It would be the hottest March on record. The day she was born was a glorious sunny day, I could remember just being able to see what the weather was doing through the window from my bed; I wish I had taken pictures of our surroundings that day; it makes up part of her life.

The Spring had come early that year; I guess that is why we associate Daffodils as her flower.
There were days when we had to be away from the hospital – often at their request, we’d walk into town which is a fair walk away, particularly when you have had major surgery, often without a cloud in the sky it was beautiful blue skies for days on end, we could sit in the hospital grounds to enjoy the sunshine. I wore vest tops and flip-flops; whilst my husband had his sandals; it was hard to imagine that I even got sunburnt in March.

Apparently, it is such a rare occurrence (at least according to weather records); I always enjoy associating the heat wave with her life, she was able to feel the sun on her face a couple of times too whilst she was out having a cuddle; I am glad she did. It made our visits easier; it helped us to be able to find space away from the building.

It rained on the day of her funeral, just as we began her celebration – it then became the wettest Summer on record.
These little memories are a big deal; these are the nicer ones.

memories the weather