Category: General

These past few weeks I have been emotionally all over the place. And if I’m being honest with you, which I know I should be, I’m so tired!

I had been doing okay. Honestly. Working from home, long morning walks, zoom calls with friends and family and I’d been happy, content and positive. Keeping myself busy was good, I was on top of everything at work and home.

And then out of the blue I felt really ill. Dizzy, lightheaded and vague. I felt as if I wasn’t attached to my body and I stopped working on my laptop and put my head on the desk. I couldn’t move. For a split second I felt this feeling of dread. “Am I having a stroke?” I thought. I called for Mike and there must have been something in the way I said his name that made him come running to me. “Somethings not right” I said. “I can’t move” I had the strangest sensation of tears falling diagonally down my face across my nose.

My heart was pounding! I felt ill in so many ways. I felt emotions in so many ways. Mike somehow got me to the bed. Half dragging me half carrying me and he held me tight and I sobbed. I cried like I cried at the start of our grief journey. Where I felt as if my heart had been torn in two. When I get like this I cry out for Ivy. “Please somebody, bring her back to me. I want her back. Please can I have her back.” Mike just held me tighter and tighter. He’s heard this before. He knows I’ll calm down in a few moments. And as the sobbing started to ease, I feel little movements underneath my belly button. This new baby is awake. Reminding me of their existence. I imagine they were trying to communicate…. “But I’m here mum”

And they are. They are on their way to us and I’m so lucky. I can’t wait to hold them in my arms. To find out who they are and what they look like. And I need to take care of myself for them. I need to be strong and brave for them.

But now it’s as if I have unlocked a little door of grief as I seem to be getting emotional in the strangest of ways. I cried on my virtual yoga class. Literally sat on the floor of my bedroom, sobbing to a screen of people, as I explained what happened with Ivy to them, feeling horribly aware that this is probably the last thing that they would want or need to hear as pregnant women. But then I couldn’t pull it back. When we focused on our breath I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put my grief away in a box and put this baby’s needs first. I’m supposed to use that time for bonding with this new one and practising breathing for our birth together and instead I’m sobbing and feeling sorry for myself.
I’m so sorry that I let you down baby.

We sorted Ivy’s nursery out. After months there’s a new baby that will need and want these things that have lay dormant in our house for so long. And it was so nice to go through the happy memories we had with Ivy. Remembering bath time, the names we made up for her toys, playing the music she would have listened to, feeling how soft her sleep suit was as I held it close to me. I loved being her mummy. I loved the simple everyday things. No it wasn’t always easy but now I’m feeling excited that I get the opportunity to do this again. To set up a nappy changing station, to have a list of things to sort for our next child, even to pack a hospital bag.
Oh I’m so sorry you’re not here with us too Ivy.

I have started to do things to try and connect my two babies. I’ve bought the same photo frame for this baby that I had for Ivy, so they can be displayed side to side. In some small way, they will be together. I have now got the same baby book that I had for Ivy and started filling out their information. I’ve added a photo of Ivy to the new baby’s family tree. From the get go I want them to know about their sister.

I’ve been going back through some of the old blog posts that I wrote when Ivy first passed away. I realise now how broken we were and how confused we were. I can see the complexities of navigating our new life when it was a million miles away from where we wanted to be. We felt so out of control. We felt such pain. I can see that even now as I write all this down, that we are stronger now. We are slowly healing although I know an emotional scar is left behind.

I think this baby is helping. This baby seems to be thawing our hearts, making us look outside of ourselves again. I can see now that I need to be strong and brave for this one but that’s not the same as keeping myself too busy and not processing how I truly feel.

I have two babies. One in my heart and one soon to be in my arms. I need to parent them differently. They are two separate souls. But they are both beautiful to me. I want to be the best mummy I can to them both. If my love for them is like a light source, the best way I can describe it is that they are two different lamps shining the very same light. Let’s hope this light keeps pulling us through the darker moments.

It was this light that helped us be everything Ivy needed us to be while she was here. I hope that this light can help us to everything this baby needs us to be too.

Love you both, Mumma xxx