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Invisible … the grieving process

Invisible, that’s how I felt.

I wanted to slide away … come back healed, the pain washed away.

I had lost so much, my dream vanished, taken out of me no matter how I fought.

I felt sorry for myself, hated myself, hated this body that had let me down, failing to keep my baby alive to be born safely.

I hid from the world, not wanting to get out of the house.

I numbed myself to calm the rage inside of me, nothing seemed to help.

Guilty for not being more cheerful for my two lovely children.

I felt like I had lost my way.

The daily reminders of what I had lost, injections,  tests and treatments, the fight to go on because I’m a mum and I owe it to my children.

Then I see them smile again, hear them laughing and one day I stop crying myself to sleep.

Little by little, I became stronger despite this body of mine that insists on playing tricks with me.

It’s all part of the grieving process. You think your world has ended. nothing will ever be the same.

I died a little that dreadful day, I did slide away I suppose …

Until eventually I came alive again.

❧❧❧

https://elleamberley.wordpress.com/2010/04/24/time-the-greatest-healer/


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A change of scenery

A change of scenery :

  • to let go of die-hard habits
  • to take time out and reflect
  • to enjoy precious time with our children.

A change of scenery will do you good, that old cliché …

It is true though, as long as you can let go and appreciate it.

A change of scenery makes me see all I have. I watch my children grow up so quickly. Where have all the years gone ?

This change of scenery to try to get myself better, recharge my batteries and try to forget my health problems.

I’m reading some wonderful books, abandoning the not so good ones, no time to waste.

I’m writing of course, as always, spurred even more by this change of scenery , a commotion of ideas and words exploding in my brain. So much I want to write !

❧❧❧ and yet, it’s so peaceful here, sheltered from everything …

©elleonthego


Run, run as fast as you can

Here ? There ?

The perfect spot

Drop everything

Start digging

Running to get some water

Coming back laughing

The waves lapping at your little legs

Digging a little deeper

A scoop here and there

Pat it all over

A few chosen shells completing the masterpiece

A little pause for a pain au chocolat, yum yum

There all done

The sun burning our backs

Time to go

Tired but happy

Another day on the beach.

❧❧❧ for my little ones

©elleonthego


On the joy of being a mum

The joys of motherhood:

  • when you finally drop off to sleep, only to be woken up by your little one having a nightmare.(aha!)
  • when they say the nicest things.
  • when they see the world so much more clearly than adults.
  • when they draw, paint, create and offer you their master piece.
  • when they first smile at you.
  • when you hear their babble.
  • when you see them persevering and finally succeed.
  • when they give you a cuddle.
  • when they snuggle up with you.
  • when they look at you in awe. I know, you’re going to tell me it won’t last.
  • when they try to cheer you up if you’re a little down in the dumps or not feeling well.
  • when they look radiant whatever the reason might be.
  • when their little faces lighten up.

And all these little things that fill you with joy and warm you up inside.


My mother

My mother had a habit of squirrelling money away, not that she really needed to, it was her safety net.When she died,it caused my father a huge headache, trying to trace all her different accounts, some active, others not.

She wasn’t materialistic and never spent much on herself, when she did, she’d hide the fact or felt obliged to justify herself.In some ways, I am a little bit like that too but I think it’s all too common for mums in general.

She did once tell me the story of how when her grandmother was dying, she told my mum where she  had hidden her little nest egg and she wanted her to have it.My mother, being a dutiful daughter told her mother who promptly took it all away.

My mother was at the time married to a violent man.He beat her up whilst pregnant with her son.In those days, divorce was much frowned upon.Eventually, despite her hopes of  ever happy family, she came to the conclusion that she would have to leave.

She was a formidable woman, not the kind you can push around easily, she was also very strong-willed and stubborn, it runs in the family, on the women side anyway.

It goes to show abuse knows no boundaries or classes.

My mother came from a very well to do family, her divorce was seen a complete disgrace.She struggled to raise her son without any help, her own wealthy parents never lifting a finger.

By the time she met my father, she’d done well for herself and had some security.She never fully trusted my father, even though they had a child together, yes, me.

I always remember her telling me that when I married, I was to hide all assets and not share everything I owned.

Sadly, she never did get to enjoy the benefits of her hard work and savings, she became very ill and died when I was a teenager.I watched her becoming very weak, a shadow of herself, yet, she could still terrify everybody, myself included.

I’m not materialistic at all and dislike talking or even thinking about money.I’m not a great spender either but do enjoy splashing out on my children.

When it comes to trust, I could not live with someone I didn’t trust wholly and completely.I’m not just talking about money but much more than that, this deep knowledge that you are loved and respected.

Friends who know my background have often wondered how I could talk about my mother in a positive way after the childhood I had.Well, first of all, she was my mother and I loved her, growing up, I didn’t know any different.

Piecing it altogether, I can reflect on the fact she also had an unhappy childhood and she endured many struggles.Her illness and subsequent death were an almighty shock.

The more I grew in myself, the more I understood her and how difficult life had been for her at times.

Even after all these years, I still think of her and understand a little more all the time.There are many things I wish I could tell her as an adult and no longer the frightened little girl I was.

When I became a mum myself, I watched friends with their mums feeling a little pang, we wouldn’t have had that sort of relationship, I know but…

I strive to do the best I can for my children, hopefully being a fraction of the mum I want to be.Nothing else matters more to me than being a loving mum with happy and well-balanced children.No achievement of any kind could prevail over this.

I’m the lucky one, I broke the vicious circle in my family, friends will know what I’m talking about.No matter what happens in your past, you can change and prevent history from being repeated.

P.S. I cannot re-read myself at this point,too raw.

This post was a long-time coming, I just had to find it in me to write it down.

It has also been inspired by my wonderful friend Ana and her post: http://www.womenontheverge.net/blogs/entry/Is-Money-a-Dirty-Word-

She is also the founder of a wonderful community, go check it out : http://www.womenontheverge

Time…the greatest healer ?

Although at times I’ve felt overwhelmed with sorrow and grief, I don’t think I was ever depressed.Somehow I always managed to push myself a little further.

A recent article I read this morning states that 1 in 6 of us suffers from depression.

I remember a visit to my doctor a couple of years ago.I’d gone to see him reluctantly, still raw from the pain .I had no intention of opening up, just wanting to get this visit over and done with.

I was still undergoing treatment having been extremely ill and suffering a massive pulmonary embolism in the bargain.

Having dealt with the necessary blood tests and adjusting medications, he then very gently asked me how I was doing.I found it  hard to deal with such kindness but having tried to fight furiously the tears welling up in my eyes, I gave up the pretence.

I admitted I was angry, I felt that losing my baby was a tragedy that could have been prevented and I felt guilty for not having a body better suited to carrying a baby.

I didn’t want anybody to be kind to me, I just wanted to be left alone, my only comfort being that having survived, I could look after my children.

My doctor then asked to take this test and on completing it, told me ever so gently that I was not depressed but grieving.I suppose, deep down, I must have known that but having my doctor saying it validated my pain and feelings.

It was ok to grieve and his words freed me.All the consultants and medical people had been focussing on the risk I was still under and that didn’t leave much room for feelings as is often the case.

People around me either didn’t know or considered I was lucky to have survived and well, I had two children already and this one hadn’t even been born.

Soon afterwards, this idea came to me.The children and I bought a balloon, decorated it with messages and then released it in the garden.

It was painful, excruciatingly painful.As we watched it float away towards the sky, my daughter cried, finally releasing the pain and tears some “well-intentioned” person had told her not to show in my presence.

I felt relieved to see her releasing all these emotions.We hugged and cried together, healing ourselves and each other.

I’ll never forget my baby, a baby so longed for, so wanted.I will always wonder what he would have looked like and still feel the pain of not having held him in my arms.

The road to recovery was long and painful.Time does heal you eventually so does love and children.The two children I am indeed very lucky to have.

How life evolves, surprising you at every corner.There was a time, not so long ago when I felt utterly broken.I did will myself to survive and get through this.I chose life!

I thought back then that the most I could hope for was to make my children happy and raise them the best I could.

I couldn’t believe I would be truly happy again, that I would feel so full of life again and vibrant.

I felt that after having been through so many heartbreaks and difficult times, I had lost my optimism that had pulled me through all the unhappiness in my past.I’d stopped believing in me.

Now, I know better, my true self overcame these negative feelings and triumphed.Through all the trials and tribulations life throws at us, there is always hope.

As a young child I believed and hoped, it made me a survivor.We are free to survive our lives and to live them to the fullest.Given time and hope, it is amazing what you can accomplish.

https://elleamberley.wordpress.com/2010/03/28/i-knew-you-already/

https://elleamberley.wordpress.com/2010/03/29/second-edition/

https://elleamberley.wordpress.com/2010/03/16/mother-love/

https://elleamberley.wordpress.com/2010/03/07/living-in-fear/