Infertility

We’ve been trying for a year.

If it worked straight away, I would be complaining of sleepless nights and sore boobs right about now. Instead we are booking doctors appointments to find out what is happening.

I don’t know what they are going to say. I honestly don’t mind either way, it’s just time we know now. So we can plan our family together, what ever that looks like.

It excites me that our children could be out there now, living and breathing and needing us now.

It sure is becoming a momentous year for us, in every which way.

 

Me and my councellor

I’ve been seeing a councellor for three weeks now.

I wasn’t loosing it, I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t bitter or having twisted thoughts, I wasn’t crying all of the time, I wasn’t tired or depressed, I wasn’t suicidal or struggling with my marriage or at work.

But I don’t want any of the above to happen if i don’t have the toolset to help me cope with that.

I don’t want to be bitter.

I want to face grief head on.

 

It’s good too.

I like speaking about Dad. Remembering and enjoying telling a stranger about how amazing he was. Sometimes it all sounds to good to be true, like I am making it up. This makes me appreciate how truly lucky I am to have him.

Don’t get me wrong, its not all silly anecdotes and fond memories. Some feelings are raw and hurt very much. I need to learn to express and work through these feelings too. They are just not as easy to come through, when I am so used to looking for the positives all of the time.

I’m just saying, I’m pleased I am having councilling.

I am not ashamed of it.

I think it is a fantastic and free resource available to everyone and anyone and I couldn’t recommend it highly enough.

Every week I feel more and more accepting of my new reality.

Farleigh Hospice really do life changing work, with all that walk through their doors.

immortality

When you loose someone close to you, you are reminded that we are not going to live forever.

This reality check gives you two options:

  1. be sad about the idea of dying
  2. live everyday you have left to the fullest

I don’t know about you, but number two sounds far more tempting!

Im going wild this year. I’m leaving my well paid and steady teaching career, I’m shaving my head, I’m painting my skin, I am starting a business, I am travelling the world, I am becoming a parent… all in 12 months.

Have no regrets.

Life is too short.

My aim is to inspire you to do the same, okay you don’t all have to shave your heads, but my challenge to you is to live life to the fullest. Everyday. Not just on Saturday.

Say yes not maybe

run don’t walk

forgive quickly

and love everyone

 

because life is short and living life is wonderful.

 

 

 

 

Feelings on Father’s Day

How am I doing this year?
I’ve been thinking about Dad extra amounts this week. More has reminded me of him. I’ve felt quieter and more subdued. I’ve been nervous about how today would be. 

This morning I’m trying to keep busy, but also keep in mind the knowledge that I can still celebrate Fathers Day. I have a wonderful Dad, that in twenty six years with me, gave me a wonderful childhood, advice and so much love. 

Looking forward, this time next year, we will be celebrating Father’s Day in a different way. We will be parents, caring for our gorgeous little boy or girl. A child far less fortunate than myself, in regards to parenting. Jim will step into that role. He will be wonderful. He is so much like my own Dad. 

Please don’t feel sorry for me, or any other grieving children today. Just promise me you will spend time with your own Dad’s while you still have the chance.

Hate breeds hate

I am saddened to see so much hate on my newsfeed this morning. 

So many close minded opinions, sharing of religious statements taken out of context and articles plucked from thin air to prove your way is right. 

I love a healthy debate. One in which each person in turn airs their views, open to be swayed by others in a way to understand eachother and consolidate what you believe.

I agree we have to challenge those that are doing wrong in our eyes, not to condemn but to understand why they think differently from us.

Next time you see hurtful comments or articles shared, instead of tutting and ignoring it, or sending hurtful comments straight back why don’t you ask a challenging open question?

E.g.

  • I am intrigued by your point of view. I would like to understand how you came to think this way?
  • I understand your anger, I am saddened by what is happening too. What do you think you or I can do to help on a day to day basis?
  • I am trying really hard to understand where you are coming from. Could you please send me useful links so I can research this for myself?

Can you hear the difference? It is obvious you are from another opinion, but you are open to be swayed or challenged. 

Maybe this way you will either:

  1. Receive a very well thought out answer that may help you understand where they are coming from.
  2. Have the opportunity to share your beliefs also in an open and relaxed discussion
  3. Or more hateful statements will be returned and at this point you can choose to leave the conversation or ask another kind and considered open question.

I am going to be selective on what I write and when. Maybe private messages rather than comment sections will be more amicable?

I have no idea if it’s going to work, but I can’t swipe passed anymore hate without doing something about it.

I would appreciate your support.

Please share your kind and open opinions on what I have said in the comments section below.

Remember love online, offline, always.

Two Kids

#throwback a good few years to when we were just kids in love on a beach holiday in Cornwall. So much has happened since here.

We met at sixteen at school. We were very quickly best friends. He was weird, eccentric and quirky. I was intrigued by him. He made me laugh. He made me more confident to be weird too.

We had so much fun at school with an amazing group of friends around us. 

We’ve been together ten years this January. That’s a long time. Little did we know back then, when we were weird loved up kids, that we would still be here. Together.

We’ve been separated across the Pacific for two lots of five months.We’ve  lived across seas. We’ve been through university and a half, we’e got married, we’ve bought and renovated our first home, we’ve had five close family members pass away. We’ve come up with a whole load of issues around building our own family…

…and yet through it all, we’ve been there for eachother.

This week I found us again. I hadn’t realised how far we had gotten from eachother. We see eachother everyday, speak to one another everyday and yet for a while there i’d lost sight of you. It’s not until you find eachother again that you realise how far from eachother you’ve become. 

Thank you for hanging around, waiting for me to be in a good place. You are ever so loyal. It helps me know that everything life will throw at us we can get through together. It will mould us and our relationship, we will be stronger, more resilient and hopefully lean on eachother even more.

Because weve got to remember

through all of it, 

we are still just two kids in love.

Father’s Day

So lots of people are asking how we are, and I am sure many more are wanting to ask but don’t know if they should. So here is a little update for you all…

 

When people ask ‘So, how’s your Dad?’ I don’t really know what to say.

The thing is I don’t really know the answer.

Last Friday, after tests, the Doctors said his liver was in a bad way and the chemo was no longer helping. As you can imagine this was a massive blow to our entire family. They warned us of what signs to look out for and told us what we should expect. It wasn’t good news.

This was my wake up call.

I obviously hadn’t forgotten all of this was happening, but the dust had settled on it all Β I suppose. I described it to my Dad as if I was walking along a path, living my life with a massive shadow hovering over me. The shadow was hisΒ cancer. I knew it was there, but if I didn’t look back I could forget how huge it was. I’ve lived my life in this way for weeks now. Hearing what the doctors had to say, on that Friday, made me face it all. I turned around and faced the shadow. The shadow was far larger and far closer than when I had last turned my head. It scared me. It stopped me in my tracks and forced me to look.

I knew then that I needed to stop. Stop turning away. Stop living my life like normal, just for a bit. I needed time to face up to this massive shadow in my life. I needed time to take it in.

I didn’t go to work on Monday.

Or Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday.

These days went slowly.

 

But I had time. Time to think, remember and be there.

 

I enjoyed having time to ‘pop in’ to my parents house, help out and distract them. But four days was enough. It started to be counter productive, staring behind me all of the time.

 

By Friday I was ready, to start on my journey again. On the path that is normal life.

 

And to answer your question….my Dad’s alright you know, he is our walking miracle.

 

Still no pain killers

Still eating well

Still socialising

Still smiling

Still got cancer

 

and that’s life as we know it. Our new normal.

 

Thank you for caring and asking and not asking.

You lot are wonderful.

Happy Father’s Day.