Dear Olivia. This day has crept on me somewhat. I’ve known it was coming obviously, but what with a busy few months, I’ve parked it at the back of my mind.
You are my fierce, independent girl and 90% of time you don’t need me but I guess you’ve been a bit thrown coming back from our recent holiday. Tonight you couldn’t sleep, and asked me to lye next to you. As I lay there, starring at your warm, little face, the last four years of your life flashed before my eyes. Wave after wave of tears fell, the emotions I’ve been battling with for the last few weeks came out. You have done so much, we have done so much together, we’ve been so busy but the most exciting, challenging bit is yet to come and my heart aches for this change.
You are all I have Olivia, my only girl. You are my world and my heart and tomorrow is such a small but big step for us both. Tomorrow everything changes. I love you x
After our missed miscarriage, we flew on holiday. Not the best time to go away but hey, these things don’t give a heads-up or warning, do they? Timing aside, in hindsight the space was really good for us, just what we needed as we were away from our everyday lives back home. Whilst trying to deal with what had just happened, towards the end of our trip, my husband started to write ‘a plan’. He began writing notes, a to do list as such, covering what our goals were, as a couple and individually. Things that we wanted to achieve, something for us, and for me to focus on after our heartache. Sometimes when you experience a loss, it can help to have something to work towards, something to get you back on track.
You’ve read all the books, the glossy baby magazines with the pretty pictures and you’ve spent hours scrolling through Pinterest. You’ve got all your baby ‘must have’ items, the pram, the buggy and the scandi-chic nursery and to be honest, you don’t really think beyond this, but what about when that baby turns into an actual small person? A child? What other essential items do you need and where do you get your ideas from? What happens is, you generally get ideas from other parents. A friend will tell you how amazing something is or you’ll see someone using something and realise you need said item, but does anyone share with you the items that are slightly ‘off piste’? The items that might not have been tried and tested, that might not spring to mind but that might be needed when that beautiful (non mobile) being becomes an movable, un-stopable force? That’s where I step in to help. You’re welcome.
Normal service is resuming here on the blog. My power is slowly returning after being sapped in the summer break. Now that it’s October, my holiday to France back in August seems like a lifetime ago, which is essentially what the previous month feels like when you get to my age. My holiday was with my family, and by ‘family’ I mean my husband, the kid, my parents, two older siblings, their respective husband, wife and kids (fourteen of us in total), not many people can say they’d holiday in such a way. It would, I imagine drive some of you bananas but we all get along really well (read as, not in a Waltons-esque way, but we all like a good laugh and a considerable amount of vino). I’ve written two previous posts about our holidays together but this time, having done an epic drive to and from France a few times now, I wanted to write about how we get through it semi-unscathed with the kid in tow.
Chatting to another mum in the park recently, we both recognised that we have already started to hear other children (generally older) telling our daughters ‘no’. Little things like, you can’t come on the slide because ‘you’re a baby’ or ‘no you can’t play with us’. It seems that meanness starts to creep in, even at such a young age. Both my friend and I agreed of the importance of trying to raise our girls to be ‘strong’. And by strong, I don’t mean so that my daughter can physically fight back, windmill arms style (although occasionally this might be needed, see later point below), I mean that I want her to be able to stand up for herself, know when people are being mean or unfair and be able to hold her own.