Actually, I hate that advert. Too many pregnant women and daddy’s nestling their babies.
But I like the song.
Yesterday there was a loud knock at the door, I answered and it was the lady collecting electoral roll data. Naturally this year i really haven’t got round to filling that out. (This is blatant hiding of ineptitude behind tragedy, I NEVER remember to fill it out.)
I filled it in and she asked me if there was anyone else living there.
“4 children,” I mumbled.
“4?!” she said. “What do you have? Boys? Girl? or a mixture?”
I’m not really good at answering this yet, I haven’t yet reach a place where I can pretend Freddie never happened. Not sure if I will.
“Ah. Well. We did have 5. 4 girls and a boy. Now we have 4 girls.”
I know I should do better than this, but really… I can’t.
She looked me straight in the eye, put her hand on my arm and said “I had 3 boys. I got one of them, my eldest, to 44 years old. But last year…. now I don’t have him.”
We stood on the doorstep, two grieving mothers, holding hands and looking at each other.
“There are more of us about than you might think.”
No platitudes. No “you’ll smile again.” No “just have another one”. No “one day it won’t hurt so badly.”
Just honesty and understanding. Two mothers. A baby boy and a baby boy in man form. Both lost. Both huge holes blasted through two families.
That was one good thing.
Today was good too. We spent the day with friends and I got there and everyone had a nice time and I didn’t have to go and knit in a corner. I did have to knit, but I did it in company. I did have to eat on my own, but I didn’t have to hide.
I’ve got so many people trying to help me and I don’t know how to be helped. Somehow I have to work out how to accept the help on offer. It upsets me that I don’t know how to accept. It frustrates me to be back at the beginning of this process again. A process I’d already fought through once, cut myself off because of, been to the brink and nearly beyond. I feel like small and easily squashed animal, sat in the middle of a huge cavern. I know that the edges would be safer but the thought of moving, of risking the movement and what might happen if I do, seems an impossibly big step.
If I could just work out how to get there.
The girls had fun and learned things.
We have a new rabbit home with us, replacing the one who died in the Spring.
I chattered to two little people today and it didn’t hurt.
I did several things before leaving the house.
I read with Josie.
I tidied the living room.
And yesterday I finished this. I’m not entirely pleased with it, I really want my old neat, detailed creativity back, but I am pleased I DID it.