Tuesday 31 May 2011


We ate half of them before I thought to take a photo of our first ever strawberry crop.

Friday 27 May 2011

Right Where I Am: 2 years, 7 months and 1 week

I miss the life we should be living.

At the moment I type those words a cat squeaks and touches his paw to my face. I pretend that George is communicating through my cat. I wish for magic in the air.

I wake in a tangle of duvet and legs, the early morning light nudging me from sleep just before I'm ready. Ray is turned away from me and quite still. I check for proof of life. His chest moving, the rhythm of his breathing and the odd snore. All is well.
How long have I been missing George? I have to check. I no longer count but I can check how many days because there is a counter on George's page ... 949 days. Has it been that long? The grief of losing George and Little Poppet is no longer a raw gaping wound. It no longer scares me and it is no longer painful to touch. But I don't poke it too hard even now: it sometimes bleeds tears. A friend told me that grief is like a stone in your belly. At the beginning it's edges are sharp and they cut deep. The stone is always there but over time it's edges are washed in tears and worn smooth. My stone still has a few sharp edges.

I lie listening to the birdsong and seagull squawks waiting for Ray to wake. I wonder if it's too early for a cup of tea and my thoughts turn to George as they do many mornings. I remember his cold damp cheek and marvel at the memory of his beautiful face. Then the "what ifs" begin. I get up to chase them away and feed the cats. I make tea and return to bed with a book and two cuddlesome cats. I need distraction.

Where am I? I have been pregnant for almost 30 weeks in total but I have no babies. My fertility is waning with age and I fear we will never have another chance. The fear becomes panic. Once a month I am disappointed. The panic becomes depression. But I am still ovulating and my cycles are still regular so there must be a chance, right? I hope and hope and hope. It's exhausting.

Where am I? In a state of perpetual longing. I want to be a mother.

Where am I? In love. We drive up onto Dartmoor, stop and watch the wild beauty around us. We try to photograph a buzzard in the sky then make tea from a flask and drink it while the sheep keep the grass tidy around the car. We buy free range eggs from a farmhouse gate with an honesty box and drive home. I am aware of empty space in the back seat.

I am happy I have my Poppet. Laughing with him, sad with him, snuggling with him, adventuring with him, grumpy with him, gardening with him, making love with him, being with him is wonderful. I am filled with wonder. I'm so glad we found each other. I wish we had found each other sooner.

Where am I? I sit at my bench thumping a hammer onto a letter stamp held over a piece of silver. Bash. Another stamp. Bash bash bash. I am happy to be creating and I like the noise. Later I read an email from a mother thanking me for making a tiny tag for her and helping open a door for others to speak her lost baby's name. I smile and feel a just a little of the magic I wish for.

Where am I? I've been asking myself this question all day. Where am I?

I am not who I used to be. I am where I am. It is how it is.

And right now it's quite all right whilst not being all right at all.


I am quite terrible at joining in, awards, memes and all that sort of thing but wonderful Angie's marvellous project struck a chord with me. Perhaps it is time to take stock. Please visit her beautiful blog and perhaps join in if you haven't already. Thank you Angie.

Thursday 26 May 2011


Randomly extraordinary Torquay skies

Random reds

(I grew these! Yummy)

(and pinks)

Random kittehs

Phew what a day!

Friday 20 May 2011

The weepies

I haven't had a "good" cry for a while now. Until this morning, when the worst-cramps-ever-in-the-history-of-the-world-ever-no-really-that-bad finally got the better of me after two days and I gave up holding it back.

"I have *sniff* horrible cramps *sob* it's been a year since I was *sniffle* pregnant *wail* and *sniff* I am SO sick *drip* of *sob* being *sob* disappointed."

Soft touches, kisses and hugs brought me back to sanity and snuggling always makes me feel better.

"I don't like it when you're upset Poppet"

"Neither do I *sniffle*"

"But it's good to get it out"

"S'pose *hic* so"

"It'll be all right"

"It better be..."

And it better be because who wants to live the rest of their life disappointed?

I remember after losing George, one lady from work "comforting" me by expressing her sorrow at my "great disappointment". No, dear, I'm grieving the loss of my son.

*sigh* Do excuse my rambling.

Saturday 14 May 2011

One year ago

It's been one whole year since I found out I was pregnant with Little Poppet.

Has it really been that long?

That Friday all my pre-period symptoms had disappeared and I "tested" with an ovulation dip stick because I only had one pregnancy test and I didn't want to waste it. It showed a positive almost immediately and I sent a slightly hysterical email to Danielle. At this point I still wasn't 100% sure and so I didn't say anything to Ray until the following Monday, when we saw the "real" positive together.

I was officially pregnant for 9 weeks and 3 days but poor Little Poppet's tiny heart kept it's rhythm for about two short weeks, beginning at 6 and stopping at around 8 weeks. I wish I'd seen it beating and felt that surge of hope, even though it ended in our broken hearts being broken again. Did you see the cloud rainbow s/he sent us?

Today the prospect of parenthood seems further away than ever and I can't even picture it any more. Hope seems almost like a foreign emotion.

But I can't bring myself to give up.

Not yet.

There's still a little hope buried in here somewhere.

Friday 13 May 2011

Itteh bitteh...

Snuggling commiteh.

They always seem to know when their snuggling service is required.

Sunday 8 May 2011

Five good things

I hope those of you knee deep in mothers day and missing your babies are feeling loved.

The gloom hasn't quite lifted but it's beginning to weigh a little lighter, and happily, I found five good things from the past week.

Your support when I'm feeling the bite of grief and the ache of longing.

A night away.

A new camera.

Being in the right place at the right time for heaps of free tulip and hyacinth bulbs for next year.

New neighbours (mother and two [non-baby/toddler] sons) who aren't noisy, who don't yell at each other from all over the house and who don't want to be our very best friends but are civil and friendly (we're rather anti-social don't you know).

Please join in; what good things found you last week.

Sunday 1 May 2011

Five good things

Not right now.
I mean to say that I don't have any today; good things that is.
I mean I'm feeling a little doomy and gloomy,
I mean of course there are good things but I can't quite articulate them today.

I mean I'd still like to read about your good things. Please join in take over for a moment?

Thank you.


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