A Man With A Plan, But He Was Just A Boy.

I arranged a memorial notice for Christopher in 19th April's Courier. It was absolutely heartbreaking and I just about held myself together. I just passing the newspaper place after taking Harry swimming. I'm glad I did it because I don't have to think about it, now.
Their 2nd birthday is 18 April and it's creeping closer, around this time we met with the paedatricians, consultants and Special Care Baby Unit (a.k.a. NICU) nurses to arrange and explain what would happen at the birth and what I wanted. It all feels very surreal that I went through all of that at just 17 on top of hormones and stress of being pregnant. It's all so emotionally exhausting, draining.

I know everything's okay now. Harry was discharged by the paedatrician (he went every 6 months because he was premature) on Monday. We weighed him and took his height, walked in to the office, sat down, answered some questions; is he eating, how is his talking etc. then the doctor just said "Well he's fine, nothing wrong with him. I see you lost his twin, I'm sorry about that." and he was discharged. All I can say is how lucky I am and how things could have turned for the worse. But I had the best outcome I could've. Obviously I never wanted my Christopher to die, but he lived for Harry, and he was tired. He'd been strong for too long and I'll always be grateful to him for giving everything to his brother. He had a "wise" look about him. He knew, so very well.

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...

Can you tell when people lie? I'm not sure I can. I don't like being treated like an idiot, and I feel it now more than ever since I became a lone parent. Maybe it was like that before, actually- Lee never really gave me the respect I deserved when it came to things he wanted and found himself very confused in his own lies. I felt embarrassed for him more than anything, especially when he was caught out and had to backtrack.
I made so many excuses for Lee during our two-year on-off relationship and I'm glad we got back together but sad that from seeing his son every day, he went to not wanting to "because it hurt to see me". They created a bond and Harry loves his dad.
Now I have to tread so carefully, because as much as I hate doing so, I rely on him to take Harry at least two Sundays a month to let my parents have their day off together in peace. So sometimes as much as I would like to tell him what is on my mind, I can't. I can't try and stress to him that the money the court ordered him to pay should not have been ordered by a bloody court in the first place if he had his priorities straight.
I know I should get over it, stop talking about it and refrain from posting angry Facebook statuses about the situation; but anyone who is lucky enough to be in a stable relationship with their children's father could never understand. It is so easy for someone like that to tell you not to let your child's father see your child because of the stupid things they do. But the thing is- I'm the one who would look bad in the end- no matter the reason for stopping contact (have you never watched Jeremy Kyle!?).
I guess I would just like Lee to understand its not about the money- it's the principal of it. I want Harry to know his dad. At least then he can find out for himself what an idiot his dad is and how he'd rather spend money on cars and holidays before seeing to what's really important and finding any excuse not to spend his spare time getting to know Harry. That's what makes me sadder than anything.

My white rose

"Call the Midwife" is a drama produced by the BBC, illustrating the view of Nurse Jenny Lee who serves the small town of Poplar in London, England in the 1950s. Jennifer Worth wrote "Tales of a Midwife" where she tells of her time in Poplar, birthing babies and looking after the community. Worth comes from a rather comfortable upbringing and is shown the desperate state of poverty the town suffers. Jenny and her fellows face the challenge of difficult births and moreover devastating events such as infant loss.

This most certainly struck a cord with me today as I watched last night's episode, where baby Thomas is found dead in his cot, as a result one of his lungs not expanding properly.

A gathering was held at the house, in a tiny white coffin lay Thomas, so still. His mummy puts a blanket over him, his daddy- a white rose. Alike the one that was placed on my little man's casket, a symbol of innocence, white and delicate. And that's what you are.

I miss you oh so much, little one. I love you always, always, always. No matter how hard I cry, no matter how many tears may fall, or years pass... You're not coming back, but you will never leave my heart. You are my sunshine, I'll see you again one day.

Does anyone know of a GOOD waterproof mascara???