The Things I Left Undone
When I was little, I had no clear idea of how life was going to pan out, except for a few ‘hallmark’ achievements and occurrences which were obviously going to happen along the way… …and didn’t.
When I was little, I had no clear idea of how life was going to pan out, except for a few ‘hallmark’ achievements and occurrences which were obviously going to happen along the way… …and didn’t.
Tear. You can have it both ways with this one – ‘tear’, as in the things which drown my eyes and shine tracks down my face in the lamplight; or ‘tear’, as in the portion of my heart which ripped and ripped again with each loss and each reminder. A year ago today I shared…
This hearkens back to the spirit of one of the reasons I decided to write so frankly and openly here – to document the dual horrors of miscarriage and infertility and the ways they impact, in the faint hopes that someone, somewhere, will read it and feel less alone; less the way I did while…
It’s been a while… …to the point where I discovered that Facebook ‘yells’ at you if you’ve not published anything for longer than it deems appropriate – “Your paltry number of Facebook Followers haven’t heard from you in EIGHT days! Write them something! Have you disappeared? Buck your ideas up!” I stopped writing so that…
I have been so cared for, this past weekend. In spite of my insistence that it was ‘Merica’s fault in the first place, I can only consider it redeemed by the surprising and delightful levels of compassion and looking-after from its inhabitants (the ones in my ken, anyway (and I’m aware that I’ve also received…
I thought this would happen when it was Mother’s Day in England. I thought the influx of cards and reminders and Things In Shops and focus, would be the things which did me in. Turns out it’s Americans. Because yours is (inconveniently, and just WHYYYY?!) a month later than ours. Which is fine, as long…
The thing I remember most starkly about the days and weeks after I first miscarried was how immensely alone I felt. I knew (logically) that other women had gone through this – had walked this awful path before, yet somehow I didn’t feel able to reach out to anyone in person. Perhaps because I was…
I was going to write this to you, my loves, when I ran up against that huge, vicious wall of reality which reminds me you weren’t ever going to be all I dreamed of. When I imagine who you might have been, I know I’m just kidding myself and indulging in a bittersweet fantasty designed…
[Please note: This is a flashback to part of my reality towards the end of last year, and may contain triggers for you if you’ve suffered child loss. Things are vastly better now, but triggers (as I discovered, as my eyes hollowed and I fell once again under its thrall and swirling darkness) can still…
“You never know what might happen in future”“Never say never”“No-one can know what’s going to happen next”“We expect things to happen, and we’re disappointed, hurt and confused when they don’t – but we aren’t owed these things – no-one ever said we were going to get them.” I am blessed with some wise, wise friends-and-relations…