Milestones

Harry is potty training! Something that felt like it was out of reach a few weeks ago is something we finally have in our grasp. I'm thrilled. But also sad, it's yet another thing Harry will no longer need me for. He's growing up so fast, and there are a ton of emotions going through me as he reaches milestones.
I've been through every milestone with him, we do it together and he surprises me every time with how fast he learns and how he copies things people around him do, he's like a sponge taking in everything.
First it was his birth, he cried out loud letting us all know he was here and safe, they'd done it! Together they had beaten the odds and Harry and Christopher had made it through a stressful pregnancy. I honestly don't think they could have done it without each other and if I could just have them back snuggled where they were... Together.
Then it was eating and his weight, Harry's weight piled on. He loved his milk, and it was one thing I was able to do for him, with him being in Special Care from 32 weeks and 4 days. He only spent three and a half weeks in there before becoming all mine. For those weeks, thanks to my mum, dad and Lee, I was up at the hospital two to three times a day. So it was no surprise when due to stress and exhaustion, my milk ran out from one boob, and much to my dismay I had to stop breast feeding. I was truly gutted, but it was out of my control.
Every time I would compare him to other children, he would surprise me and suddenly start doing what I was worrying about. Children should never be underestimated, they are very clever and need to be encouraged and celebrated at every achievement, and learn how to lose gracefully.
I just feel a huge sense of pride for my boys, and I will always celebrate them like they deserve to be.

I'm really trying.

I'm really trying to make myself feel better at the moment. I've been very down lately and although it's okay not to be okay sometimes- it can be bad for you if you dwell on it, which is what I have been doing. I've been feeling the pounds piling on recently (and unfeeling money pounds, I bought a tumble dryer this week) and my hair has been limp and making my face look so pale as the colour was so dark. I've just constantly been feeling sorry for myself and not doing anything about it.
So yesterday after dropping Harry off at nursery I came back and used my tumble dryer- YAY! I had to sell my dishwasher (that I didn't need) to go in it's place. Cleaned up a bit, rested for a little while and then made my way to the new ladies gym just by my house. I did a half hour class called 'Thighs, Bums & Tums', it was SO hard. I'm still hurting now! But it made me feel great that I did something so I had the energy to then go and pick Harry up from nursery and take him to the park for a few hours to wear him out a little more before I handed him over to Dad and started work.
This morning it was thrashing it down with rain, I was soaked as I took Harry to school, and walked back. Today I went back to the gym and I signed up for a 'quarterly' membership, also had my hair done and my eyebrows threaded. I feel like a new woman, already! I reserved my mum and myself places for Saturday's 'Kettlercise' class (exercising using kettle bells) which I'm really looking forward to.
I also (I know, I'm on a mission!) registered for an amateur acting company workshop, which starts in May. Hopefully it will bring me out of my shell, and give me the chance to socialise.
These are all things to look forward to, and motivate myself to become a more positive person. Releasing them dolphins (endorphins) and getting slim is something I really need so please can all my followers send me good vibes!!

Hope.

After being unable to sleep last night with Harry up every hour, I went back to bed when he did - only to be awoken about ten minutes later to the sound of someone hammering outside. I had that much of a headache my nose started to bleed. I am exhausted and feel alone, as always. It's not easy being a single mum and trying to do everything at once, with no one to ask for help or have a rant at when I'm angry. I feel like I'm just taking up everyone's homepage with stupid attention-seeking statuses. If I wrote how I really felt, people would be worried. But I don't want to burden anyone, that only makes me feel worse. Asking for help is a massive step that I struggle with and I don't know who to turn to. I have been offered several times a shoulder to cry on or someone to 'scream' at. But when it comes to, I just don't have the words.
Maybe I need counselling, someone who knows what questions to ask so I can give the answers that I need to say. I know I'm falling in to a rut.
This Wednesday, and Thursday just gone, I went for two long walks which was great. As soon as I dropped Harry off on the Wednesday, I went along the promenade and up towards Groudle, and then turned back. It took me just over an hour to get home and I felt refreshed, but soon went back to bed, unwilling to do anything more. Thursday, me and a friend went walking up to Marine Drive and put the world to rights as we fought the cold air. I then met up with another friend, picked Harry up and went to work. Harry was feeling the effects of being at nursery four days a week and slept on me for an hour and a half until I had to work.
He was dropped off at 7am the following morning, and we went to bed again, waking up at 9. I made plans with my Grandma who picked me up at 12 to go searching for a dryer, as I only have a washer-dryer. I'd finally sold my dishwasher so I now had the space. I really look forward to the call on Monday to arrange a time for delivery- sad, eh? But I have saved and saved, ready for the year ahead to hopefully visit my sister, and my aunty and at the end of this month I'll be going clothes shopping in Liverpool, which is needed as one of the main things getting me down right now is the fact I can hardly fit in to my clothes (hence the walking).
I have also signed up to a class for drama on Tuesday nights starting in May, which should give me something to look forward to. Acting is one of my favourite things, having gained an A* in my drama performance in my last year of high school.
This time of year I always get down, remembering how three years ago I would have been still waddling around with a huge baby bump with my two gorgeous boys. I had so much to look forward to, yet living on tender hooks knowing anything could happen next. I could go in to labour, earlier than planned. My scans were every week, and we just lived for them. We wouldn't know what Harry and Christopher had planned, whether he was getting tired or he was okay. I was buying for Harry, things like blankets, cot, pram, steriliser.. not even knowing if I'd get to use them. But I had hope, and that's what got me through.

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

Last night I went to search for my friend on Facebook, to realise she has deleted me. I post on Facebook a lot as it's my only outlet. I don't have a partner to share news with, be happy with or go to when I'm upset, so I tell my friends. Some people may say I expose too much of myself on there emotionally and leave myself open to negativity and harsh comments.

So I'm not going to say I was totally surprised. But I did ask why, and the answer shocked me. Bearing in mind this is a friend that I told when I got the news that Christopher was poorly and she visited me at the hospital the day I had my boys. She's never shared any qualms with me talking about Christopher, and seemingly welcomed me to talk to her when I was ever upset or in need of a friend.

Let me tell you now, child loss is not infectious, but it's an incurable kind of disease that I will never just "get over". I struggle daily bringing up Harry singlehanded, especially at the moment it's particularly tough as he goes through a stage of not listening to what I say, totally ignoring punishment and asking for anyone but me all of the time. It's a typical thing I know, but working full time too, then trying to stimulate a nearly-three year old is exhausting.

When I'm alone, it seems all the things that I could think about that makes me upset, I do. It's as if I've been occupying my mind all day to avoid, suddenly that part of my brain relaxes any barriers and all I can think about is the fact that I'm alone. Harry's in bed, so I can't go anywhere or do anything; and I'm tired so I wouldn't want to anyway. My friends are either at work, or busy and most of then have children now so they're unable to come around.

So this "friend" has a little boy who's not one yet. I searched for her and she wasn't there. So I asked her why...

"Yeah I did, only because you're constantly putting hashtags and statuses about Christopher and I can't deal with it. I have a son and it just upsets me when you constantly broadcast the fact you have lost a son. Everyone knows you have and everyone knows it's the worst possible thing that could ever happen. I just don't want anything to happen to **** and it's horrible always being reminded of what happened to you.
I'm sorry for not talking you first so don't say silly things like that. But I see my son and I don't want anything to happen to him, I couldn't deal with it."

Apparently I'm being irrational, thinking that she could have talked to me first and explained her reasons- even though they are invalid anyway. I keep my son's memory alive because he is my child, I held him and he was here. People would say something if I didn't talk about him, and quite frankly I'd feel an overwhelming guilt- like every time someone asks me how many children I have? I have two.

So if you have a problem, speak now- or forever hold your peace.

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???