Update

I suppose I should post at least once this year.

This has been a difficult year to say the least.

Since last September Ray has been ill with an, as yet undiagnosed, gastric condition. We've been through endoscopies, colonoscopies, CT scans and MRI's and they still haven't diagnosed him. We wait and wait for more and more tests and they scratch their heads and he is in almost constant pain and unable to enjoy life. Here's hoping 2016 will bring answers and relief.

In the midst of all this worry there is the beautiful light that is Felix. He is amazing and imaginative, loving and cheeky, smart and silly and very very "three and a half"!



I still long for my two not-here's and greedily I will always want all three of them in my arms and making noise and mess.

Wishing you love and light and a peaceful year.

An adventure

I sat in the hot tub, alone for the moment, leaned back and looked up at the starry sky (the only starry sky we saw whilst away) and I sang "Golden slumbers". First to George and then to Little Poppet.

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles await you when you rise.
Sleep,
Little George,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.

Cares you know not,
Therefore sleep,
While over you a watch I'll keep.
Sleep,
Little Poppet,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.

And I cried for my babies because they are not asleep.

I have sung the same lullaby to Felix since he was born; he calls it "dordon sumbers". It felt good to sing it to my others.

We spent 4 days in a cabin surrounded by beautiful trees near Sherwood forest. It was peaceful, fun and exhausting. Felix collected "holiday leafs" and "holiday pinetones" and took them back to our "holiday house". I don't mention George to him as much as I would like to.

I don't want to visit a grave, George isn't there. I don't want to be in the house where they were made and died. I want to celebrate the love that made them. So we take that memory of love and go on an adventure in the name of George and Little P.

Who knows where we'll be next year.

6 years

I can hardly believe it's been so long since I kissed my son goodbye.


We are going away for a few days to Sherwood forest.

An adventure in the woods in his memory.

I wish he was coming too.

I will always wish he was coming too.


I miss the boy George should have been.

And I always will.

Day of Hope

August 19th Day of Hope

Remembering George and Little Poppet and all of the babies missing from their lives.

Sending love and light and peaceful thoughts to you all.

right where I am: 5 years, 8 months, 27 days And 4 years, 17 days.

Today.

My son is in bed, and when I go to bed I will pass by his cot and place my hand on his chest and wait for the rhythmic rise and fall to tell me that Everything Is Ok. I have required proof of life every night since he was born. Unless he is restless. I don't have to touch him if he's already moving or sighing in his sleep (I love the sound of his sleep-sigh).

It has not been easy; this seismic shift from grief and longing to joy and exhaustion.

Depression still lurks in the dark corners of tiredness. Grief stalks me these days in the form of anxiety: It pops up and rattles me awake in the middle of the night with thoughts of death. His, hers, mine, yours...

It's hard this letting go. For the 4 long years after George left and before Felix came to stay, all I thought about was George and making new babies.

At times I feel as if the future is behind me. I spent so long wishing and hoping and waiting that now I have my alive-baby I'm a little lost. There's nothing left to wish and hope and wait for. Or so it seems.

I'm trying to live in the moment, and the moments are truly glorious with this concentrated bundle of noise and life, but there is an absence. I've been trying to fill it with Felix and art and sewing but it lingers.

We won't be having any more children. I couldn't cope with another pregnancy, neither physically nor emotionally and, well, I'm 47 you know, my eggs are going off pretty rapidly!


I have one living child and two dead children. I am a mother of three and yet if you ask me I will probably hesitate or stutter or I won't look at you and then I will say one.


But there is George, whose beautiful tiny face and body are no longer in focus. He is like a child playing chase, dodging out of my reach with a giggle and I can't even touch a fingertip to his hair. He is just around the corner out of my sight. He is a flash of light. Electrons, neutrons and protons whizzing around space. He exists, of that I am sure, but elsewhere.

And there is Little Poppet, a brief moment of promise and hope and the only one of my two dead children I have dreamt of. I thought Little P was a boy but I dreamed of a little girl in a red winter coat, who turned to me with a big grin and wide almond eyes and told me her name was Elizabeth Rose. Elizabeth was not a name we chose or even thought about. Her miniature heart beat so so briefly.


Felix is pure energy and love and fun. He fills my days with delight and chases away my fears with his smile. And everyday I wish he had his two older siblings to play with.

Please visit beautiful Angie's blog to read (oh you must read, her words are so beautiful) and participate in the "right where I am" project.

Felix at two.

This blog must appear abandoned but it isn't. I don't think it is anyway. I have started several posts and abandoned them. But the blog remains. I will be back at some point. I think.

1 year.

One whole year!

Amazing!

I'm still reeling!

I'm still a bad blogger. I had no intention of letting this blog die, I still don't. There are things I want to say but I can't seem to get them out just yet. 

So in the meantime here's a little feast of fabulous Felix!

Fabulous Felix

I can't believe it's been so long since I blogged, oh bad blogger that I am!

Is there any body out there still reading???

This beautiful boy has taken my time, mushed it about and made it whoosh by.

He is wonderful, he is amazing, he is awe inspiring.

He likes smiling and laughing, long baths, grabbing cats, chewing sophie the giraffe's bottom, bouncing in his jumparoo, being flung about by his daddy, eating anything we're eating, rolling on the floor with his mummy, blowing raspberries, being tickled by daddy's beard, chewing wooden toys... chewing anything really.

He doesn't like getting dressed, a dirty nappy, the car seat when he's sleepy, going to sleep, napping, dozing, taking 40 winks... you get the idea. But he sleeps all night long, mostly, from 7ish until 7ish so we count our blessings.

He has had two teeth for a couple of months but no sign of any more yet.

He is just, almost beginning to crawl. He commando crawls, pulls the rug towards himself to get toys, gets up on all fours, shuffles a bit, flops onto his belly and spins in a circle. Time to seriously babyproof!

Our life has changed so much. Felix has enriched it no end. So much love.

From this moment, my heart began to heal.

4 years

I can hardly believe that it's been 4 whole years since I looked at my tiny little boy, kissed his nose and said "I'm sorry".

Today we are going on an adventure as we have done for the last 2 years.

Only this time it will be different.

We DO have the baby in the back seat.

We DO have the tons of accoutrements that follow us around these days. This year we DO have the sleepless nights, the worry, the joy and the love.

Oh so much love.

But just for one.

Where there should be three.

Dear George,

You have not been forgotten nor replaced. How could one person replace another? Impossible.

You are you, the only you there ever was or could ever be and you are missed for all that you might have been. 

For the role of big brother that you should be playing now. For the joy we should be anticipating at seeing you grow into a big boy, a teenager, a young man, an adult.

Dear George

I think of you every day. Watching Felix develop and grow makes it even more obvious just how much we have lost. A whole world.

For every kiss I give your brother there is one looking for you.

Always,

Your Mummy

16 weeks

Our beautiful boy is 4 months old, oh my. Can you believe it!

Felix is full of smiles these days and it catches my heart every time he looks at me and smiles spontaneously.

Yesterday he laughed properly for the first time and both Ray and I went a bit gooey and weepy!

He still loves his baths and is almost too big for his little tub! He can empty a couple of inches from it with all his kicking. I have been using ideas from this online swimming class and he now closes his eyes and takes a breath when we say, "Felix, ready, go!" and pour water over his head and face. He doesn't mind in the slightest.

He is generally a mellow baby and will happily play by himself on his mat or in his bouncy chair for almost an hour without caring who is or isn't with him, as long as his toys are smiling at him and there is something to grab and pull to his mouth. But of course he loves it too when we play along, and we love it too. Until we flip him to his tummy...

He hates being on his tummy and manages between 5 and 10 minutes before starting to complain. We keep trying though.  He can lift his head easily but also tends to lift his arms back and up too not taking his weight on them very often. Any ideas?

I have found that, despite being a big baby, being 3 1/2 weeks "early" many of those "milestones" you read about and are emailed about are coming a couple of weeks "later" and are therefore, going by gestation, probably "early" and by my own dating, even earlier!  So we stopped reading and just concentrated on playing!

He has a slight tendency to turn his head to the left. He can and does turn to the right quite easily and there's no flat spot on his head but it does concern me a little and I'll be bringing it up again at Felix's next jabfest. We've been doing some exercises and when he's on his play mat we place his toys on his right side. We also turn his head while he is sleeping during the day. At night we leave him to be comfortable where he wants!

Not that anyone is interested but in the spirit of docuemtation: Things we have found essential in the last 4 months!  

Muslin cloths. We have about 25 (bought second hand from fleabay) and there are never enough! Burp cloths, bibs, changing mats, comforters, spill wipers (damn I am clumsy!) and in a crisis an emergency nappy. He twiddles one in front of his face as he's falling asleep and often prefers this to his dummy.

Super-large muslin cloths. We have 4 which were his swaddles and are now sunshades, blankets, pillows, burp cloths and comforters. We always have one with us.

Can you believe he was this tiny?!

Tippeetoes mini-bath. Brilliant little bath with a moulded seat. We used this from the beginning and as baby is positioned you don't worry so much about slippy babies sliding around and off your hands. From 4 weeks old or so he reclined in it with a hand nearby but not on him. Can't recommend this enough! (Read the reviews on amazon if you don't believe me!)

Dungarees. Preferably soft ones with a vest underneath. I've never liked trousers on tiny ones and tops just seem to constantly ride up. Dungarees generally have adjustable straps which gives more room around the crotch area for cloth bums and the stretchy ones seem more comfortable.

Fleabay. Seriously. His enormopram, many toys and nearly early all of Felix's clothes are second or third hand and there are some great bargains out there. I also sell on his clothes as he grows out of them (quickly!) Most of our cloth nappies have come from there too.

Car boot sales. We've bought toys, his bumbo seat, books and bits and bobs. Great for the heavier things that you wouldn't want posted (not including enormopram of course - I wish I'd taken a photo of the enormobox it arrived in!).

For us, the Yoomi bottles have been great. When I finally had to give up on breastfeeding and sold the small Breastflow bottles (brilliant as they mimic the suck/compression of breastfeeding) I wanted something special and they are made in the UK. Yoomi bottles come with a warming pod which works in a similar way to a pocket hand warmer) that sits inside the bottle and warms the milk gently in 60 seconds. Perfect for our days out and adventures when we are no where near a heat source!

Toys with big clear smiley faces. He grins and shrieks at them and I even drew a smiley face on a carrier bag hanging next to his changing table.

 And our family of smiley faces too of course - absolutely essential!

Love

In which I have a minor breakdown.

I am reading blogs this morning with Felix sleeping on my chest. He's getting heavy, my breathing is becoming laboured but I don't want to move him because I love the living breathing humming grunting weight of him. I look at his face and see his brother and there's that familiar pain. Duller, yes, but still there.

I haven't written on my blog for a few weeks and you will see a HappyFelix post next week when he is 4 months old (I know!).

But I want to write about George and I have no reference point. I have no words to describe this new feeling. This holding-a-living-baby-after-so-much-pain-and-longing feeling. This missing-the-son-that-isn't-here-whilst-rejoicing-in-the-one-that-is feeling. I'm struggling with that.

I am happy, overjoyed, in awe, amazed. I look at him and laugh. He's real. He's really really real and he's mine! But then that old familiar dreary friend gives me a nudge. The friend I thought I had left behind somewhere between the hospital and home. Depression? Don't be silly: look at my life! I have a perfect little person becoming himself in front of my eyes. And yet.

I switch into practical mode. I'm not depressed (I hate that label) I'm tired and run down. I can tell that my iron levels are low because I felt like this the last time I was anaemic (before I became pregnant with George) so I'm taking my iron again. It was nice for a while, not taking my vitamins, not caring too much about what I ate, because I was only eating for me and not for his health too. But in the end it IS for his health too even if we're not physically connected and I can't breast feed (still breaks my heart). It's gone on too long. I've gained more weight, my bones ache, my feet hurt, my muscles scream at me and I need to get a grip.

I had a bit of a meltdown on Sunday, threw some toys from my own pram, cried as I haven't cried in a long time and got sent to bed at 9.30. And I slept. Oh how I slept. Glorious wonderful sleep. I woke at 6am listening for breathing sounds and shot out of bed when I heard none. Ah but there were no breathing bodies to check. Bless all that is Ray for staying up all night with Felix sleeping restlessly in the living room to give me some peace. Poor chap, I think I frightened him with my freak out. I'm normally the calmer one.

I sent him to bed, finished feeding our son, who went immediately into a deep 3 hour sleep, and took a handful of vitamins.

Life is good. Even when it isn't.

12 weeks old. Oh my.

See. See. I told you... whoooosh... 12 weeks gone in the blink of an eye!

 This is his first babygrow. It was big on him when he first wore it. Oh my how he has sprouted!

He smiles and smiles (in between the sleeping, pooping, vomiting and screaming) And waking up, however early, to a big gummy grin is always lovely!

The pleasure of holding this warm cuddly body so full of noisy life is something that I never ever thought I'd be able to enjoy. And I do enjoy it. Every moment. Treasured.

I remind myself every day that he is here and he is mine.

He is wonderful.

He is gorgeous.

He is lovely.

I am lucky 

And still, and yet, every day I think and I wonder. There should be three.

Felix's handy hints and tips on how to rule the world.

(or how to get your lazy parents out of bed on a Sunday morning)

1. Summon up the biggest poonami yet on Mummy - squidge as much poo out of your nappy and onto mummy's belly as possible (the stinkier the better) bonus points for getting it on the clean-on-last-night duvet cover.

Then, whilst Mummy runs screaming naked to the shower...

2. Wait until Daddy places you on the bed after clean up and vomit copiously forcing Daddy to strip you bare (try to aim it at Daddy if at all possible).

And then, just as Daddy is about to bring you to Mummy in the shower...

3. Produce an impressive pee fountain on the bed (try to aim it at Daddy if at all possible).

4. Enjoy your shower, pretend nothing happened and be calmer than you have been in days.

8 weeks and 1 day. Really?

They are right, aren't they? Time is whooshing past in a blur of nappies, screaming, cuddles, naps, pumping, playing, bathtime, screaming, sleeplessness, the occasional smile, aching arms, vomit, poo, pee and love.

 Felix is currently as grumpy as he can be. Crying, growling, screaming etc etc and sometimes only seems truly content when he is asleep. He is in the midst of a major growth spurt and seems to lengthen in front of our eyes. He is almost too big for his pram which is supposed to last until 6 months. Ha.

Breastfeeding is a bust. We have had appointments with the breastfeeding nurses at the hospital and they are wonderful. They think his traumatic birth might be something to do with his big-time-arched-back-screaming aversion to the boob with or without nipple shield but I think it was the many midwives who forcibly thrust him on a nipple all hours of the day and night whilst he screamed the ward down during the week we were in hospital.

They arranged for me to borrow a double pump and after many days of hourly pumping, twice hourly pumping, half hourly pumping, two hourly pumping and random what-the-hell-time-is-it pumping my supply did not increase. Not. one. little. bit. I get a dribble. Pah. My boobs don't like machines. He takes the boob less and less and less and then only as a dummy/finger substitute. But I'm not quite ready to let myself give up on the pumping yet and certainly not on the comforting. Some stubborn sense of what if I suppose.

We were sent to check out a possible non-obvious tongue tie situation with a maxillofacial specialist wherein I hid down the corridor as they checked him out (would have snipped there and then - brave Ray!) I heard him screaming which made me want to burst through the door and rescue him, but when they called me back in they said he was fine but his jaw is a bit "petite" at the moment, which may be the problem. Sigh.

We have tried "rebirthing" in the bath and surprisingly he wanted to nurse but was immediately frustrated at the lack of flow and ended up nibbling. Sigh. Although bathing with him is lovely and not something I will be giving up. At least not until he can point and laugh.

Oh I have been broken hearted and cried and cried. I wanted SO much to breastfeed. So very very much. On the one hand I am bereft. I feel as if I have missed out again. I didn't get the birth experience I wanted and now I can't breastfeed? How unfair is that?

On the other hand. Look. I have my Felix. My perfect glorious, fabulous, marvellous, wondrous son! Everything else is icing on the cake.

Felix is awesomeness personified. I look at him and... wow... he's here, he's real, he's alive! Pinch me. Every. Single. Day. Seriously. Pinch me.

I love his vigour, even in the midst of a screaming-for-nothing-obvious-tried-everything-might-as-well-join-in round. I love each scream that rips out of his lungs. I love the enormoburps, the fartipants, the spit up, poomageddon and the poonamis, the grunts and growls and howls. I love watching him develop and change. I love watching him sleep. I love the huge grins that herald sleep and are just, just beginning to show up outside of sleep. I love that my arms ache from holding him and my back hurts from rocking him. Selfishly, I love that it's me he wants. That family hand him back to me. That Ray hands him to me. That he's mine mine mine. For now anyway, until he discovers that daddy plays the coolest games.

Unconditional love is amazing.

Oh and how long does it take before I stop looking for the rise and fall of his chest?