I can hardly believe that 7 months have passed since Ollie was born. Time feels like it has gone very slowly but also in the blink of an eye. We should have a 7 month old baby now; but instead he lives in the clouds and we have a little blue bear and ashes instead.
Sometimes I can't believe that I'm still alive, that I survived this terrible tragedy that when people say they 'cannot imagine', but I am. In the darkest days following his death I remember laying in the hospital bed thinking 'How on earth am I going to live through this pain? Surely this will kill me' but time passed. The sun still rose, the moon still came out, I still functioned (barely) as a human being, I was still hungry, I still showered, the window cleaner still came, bills were still paid. Time just passed and now I'm writing this 7 months later a completely different person.
I've been to Portugal and Nice, I've done spa days, meals with friends, a 13 mile walk, I've made over 150 felt octopuses, I've made new friends for life, we're planting a tree for Ollie, a memorial is installed at Calderdale Hospital where he was born, his name is spoken by strangers who know him because of the impact he has made, I'm in recovery for PTSD, I've almost written a book, we've moved to a better house, we have a garden for Ollie.
But I've also lost friends and drifted apart from people, my relationships have altered - some are stronger, some are weaker and grief sieves out those stragglers. I carry a knitted bear everywhere because it represents my son, I'm a size 16 the biggest I've ever been, I do puzzles every night until I fall asleep, I hoard toilet paper in case I bleed again, I still have panic attacks, I don't sleep well and I'm tired most of the time. But all of that's okay, because I'm still here.
So much in those 7 months, but still feels so little. I still feel restless, like it is never enough, if a day goes by where something hasn't been done for him then it is a day wasted....but when is enough enough? Will it ever be enough? We don't praise ourselves enough for how far we have come since those days where even breathing was agony. We don't focus on the small wins we have done like organising our child's funeral, maybe returning to work, being able to see our friends children...every step is a milestone when it comes to grieving the loss of a baby. We punish ourselves for the smallest things instead of patting ourselves on the back. Every bereaved parent should be incredibly proud that they are here.
I took a break from writing for a while after we received Ollie's Post Mortem results, and the tone of my Instagram posts changed a little. I had to find a way to live with my grief and live with Ollie in the present, not the past and things became too draining. I've also taken a break from making Octopuses, we were inundated previously and our thumbs needed a rest! Things have gotten easier to handle and we can see that we are moving forward, we never move on from him, we move forward with him. I have a more positive outlook than I did before, I talk to Ollie and do more new things so he can see them and experience them through me.
I have a long way to go, I know that, but I am further than I have been since this journey started. I'm very lucky to have an incredibly supportive friendship group and family and some lovely women in the baby loss community that have helped me immensely. I don't know what the future holds for us, I don't know what the next 30 seconds holds for us, but I want to keep going...just to see what's in store for us - good or bad. Because I can't live in fear anymore. So here's a photo of me in Nice with a glass of rose wine, with my best friend Barry, alive, breathing, but always a mother.... x
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