Category: General

This is my open letter from the heart writing down what, at times, feels impossible to say. 

Firstly, I want to say thank you. We know you all care. Every word said is meant with love. We know that. Every word not said is to protect us. We know that too. It must be impossible to second guess what we need or want. We can’t tell you because it changes constantly. Still. Things don’t necessarily feel ‘better’, just different. 

Yes, I admit it, we do hide our emotions from you at times. We cry when the doors are closed because there’s already been too much sadness lately and we don’t want to bring you down. Maybe you do it too? I don’t know. We say we are okay because it’s easier than being honest. We feel like we want to protect you all, to show you our brave faces because we can’t protect Ivy anymore. So sometimes, after being ‘normal’  we feel exhausted and want to be alone. It’s not that we are shunning you or pushing you away. 
We try and be brave and do things but sometimes we know we can’t. We hope you’re not offended and we hope you understand. We don’t want you not to have fun, we don’t want you to miss out, we worry if we were there – we would ruin things. That’s the last thing that we want. We are starting to take small steps forward but I can’t promise we won’t take some big steps back too. 

I know being at our house must be uncomfortable. I don’t want it to seem like a museum for Ivy. When I am alone in the house, I will talk to her photos and touch her blankets. What brings me a comfort, might bring you sadness and I apologise for that. 

Watching videos of her and seeing her photos makes me happy. Sometimes. Sometimes unbearable sadness hits me. But I do love it when you tell me that you’re thinking of Ivy, or doing something in her memory. And if, when I am with you, I say something nice that another person has done – I am not moaning that you haven’t done those things. I hope you know I’m not like that. 

I know that since Ivy, I am overly anxious. I worry about health issues a lot. I need to work through this but I have a physical reaction whenever I hear about hospital appointments or someone poorly. My heart beats quicker and I panic. Ivy’s legacy should be more than me expecting things to go wrong. I don’t want anyone to suffer or anyone to go through what we have and I logically know that they won’t. Yet still I feel worried. Bear with me… I’m working on it. 

I am strange around people who are pregnant or have small babies. I need people to know it’s not because I wish bad on them or their baby. Not at all. Let me try to explain. Partially it’s because I am a little jealous, they are about to enter or are already on the most amazing journey. It’s more than that though. I know we’ve experienced those times, I have been pregnant and I have held my newborn in my arms. Yet at times it seems like a fantasy that never happened. If we ever have more children, it’s not a straightforward path. What once was our reality now seems like an out of reach dream. In terms of the babies, well I marvel at them. They can turn their heads, lift their legs and even stretch their fingers. I am amazed by them but I wouldn’t be able to hold a baby yet. I want to hold our baby. Our Ivy. Our future child. 

Sorry for the awkward silences, I feel that uncomfortableness too. I don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to say. It’s not what we wanted for our lives. I can see how it could come across as rude. But inside my head I am actually thinking so many things. “Thank you for being here! What can I talk about? What’s a safe topic of conversation? Should I have said that? Sorry if that came across as snappy! Sorry that this is awkward. Please talk about Ivy. Remember when Ivy was here. Please don’t let her memory fade. If only Ivy was here. Why? Why? Why?”

I want to remember the girl that lived. The girl who we all loved. I don’t want to focus on her death. I don’t want this to change who I am. I am worried about that. I am scared it already has. Yet wouldn’t it be weird if it didn’t change me at all?

The past seems so far away. Time without her is going quickly and feels so long ago at the same time. The future is uncertain and we don’t know what decisions to make. Especially after all we’ve been through… I don’t want to get things wrong. 

So to summarise, I apologise if my words and actions have upset you or confused you while I’ve been grieving. I hope you forgive me. Be patient with us.

It’s not often that a little girl teaches their mummy so much without saying a word. But in a world of hurt and pain, even if I slip up some times, I am going to try to be more like Ivy. Kind, brave and, hopefully one day, truly happy. 

Thanks for reading