It’s been a tea and biscuit kind of day.  Digestive biscuits.  They are the only biscuits I could find in the house… (we are now part of the nuts and blueberry brigade after converting our crisps and chocolate habit.)

 

They were a bit stale… but I had forgotten how good the malty, oaty, sugary, crumbliness was…   I love them with a bit of cheese.  Cheddar.  Mature.

 

I woke up at 2am with a migraine… pills softened the pain, allowing me to function, but I haven’t really felt like eating much.  Other than tea and biscuits.

 

I have felt this weird numb, sad, overwhelming emotional state only once before.

 

We hadn’t intended to get pregnant so soon after getting married, but a house move and a move into our in-law’s messed up a few routines (like taking my pill after brushing my teeth).  It took a while to sink in… but seeing a little heart beat in a grain of rice at 8 weeks made it real… and as we converted the coach house and outbuildings in to our home, we began to get excited for our future with a family.

 

5 weeks later, the shock was intense as we saw a perfectly formed baby in my belly… just without a heart beat.

 

After a quick D&C, a quick week of recovery, I travelled 150 miles away from home in Yorkshire to continue to work on a project in Milton Keynes…  I managed 4 or 5 weeks before breaking down during an important presentation.  I don’t remember much after that… just a conversation with HR saying I should take as long as I needed… and that the company would pay for as much counselling as necessary.  It sounds like a wonderful firm (and it was for the main), but the cynic in me only sees them protecting themselves against a court case – young woman, lost a baby, thrown back into work 150 miles away from home a week or so later, left alone in a Hilton…

 

My grief counseller, Mary, was wonderful.  Tiny lady.  Kind eyes.  I remember crying a lot.  But I also remember how she taught me visualisation and the practice of gratitude.  I still have my little note book that I had to write 5 positives in every day.

 

She also helped me uncover that losing the baby was just the tip of the iceberg.  It was the final straw in a lot of losses.  I had just got married and moved 200+ miles away from my home, my job, my life, my friends, my family.  The loss of my identity – ‘Ali Brooks’ to being James’ wife, The Mortimer’s new daughter-in-law.  My parents and I weren’t speaking at the time….  (another story… but I think stems from the start of my Mum’s Alzheimer’s, her paranoia, jealously, frustration).

 

Mary helped me work through all the losses, the grief, the anger, the sadness, the confusion… so that then I could see how much I had gained… and still had left to gain.

 

I can feel parallels to that time, nearly 10 years ago, to now.  The shock of seeing a dead baby… to the shock of seeing my dead Mumbo.  The loss of a future where I thought I would travel home every 6-8 weeks to see my Mum, Dad, sister, friends…   The shocking realisation that death actually does occur to those living you love in reality.

 

I had my first counselling session today.  I remember the tears.

 

But I came away feeling a little lighter… and I am looking forward to unearthing all the losses, the emotions… so that I can look to the future, but also see the present and everything I have to be grateful for.

 

I had to go through the grief of losing our first baby, so that I could welcome Tom Tom and then lose another baby before welcoming Willy with open arms….

 

I need to go through the grief of losing my first parent… the first person I ever loved… so that I can live and love and embrace the future with open arms.  I know from experience it is not to be rushed.  That I need support.  And that I can’t do it alone.

I got through today.
I got through the priority stuff. 
The boring priority stuff that keeps the house going – the endless washing, ironing, cooking. 

The priority work stuff – orders for clients placed and distributed. 

The priority boys stuff – fed them, listened to them read, listened to their daily updates, got them to school having made sure they were dressed with clean teeth. Got them home, got them to beavers and went to a school parent consultation.

The priority Big Man stuff – fed him, listened to his daily update….( Got him out the door with clean teeth?!)

The priority me stuff – filled out a grief counselling form and went to bed and slept like a dead person alongside Snow White. Remembering, focussing on and holding on to the very fact that the last thing my Mum ever said to me was ‘I love you’ … 
  

I think Snow White must be sleeping…

 

 

Dobby is running riot and there is no one to help me quieten him ….

 

I think Snow White must be sleeping…

 

My negative self talk is constant, consistent.

 

I think Snow White must be sleeping….

 

Keeping Dobby the sabbotteur and my self talk quiet is exhausting.

 

I think Snow White deserves to be sleeping…

 

2 days without her and I cracked….

 

I think Snow White deserves to be sleeping..

 

She has been on 24/7 for over 6 months, looking for silver linings, positivity, happy retorts.

 

I hope she wakes up soon.

 

Dobby is questioning, doubting every decision, relationship, friendship, career choice I have ever made…

 

I hope she wakes up soon.

 

Dobby is relentless and evil.  He is harsh and mean and cruel.

 

I hope she wakes up soon.

 

Maybe she is waiting for Prince Charming to kiss her awake, to love her, to give her life again.

 

 

 

 

 

Hallmark days. Resist or embrace them.
Personally, I think that unless you can hand on heart say that you make the people in your life feel like it’s a hallmark day every day with the love and appreciation you give or show them, then these days are a wonderful opportunity to do just that. Go all out, over do it…. For when they aren’t there you wish you had.
And it hurts. 

The pain of the grief that they aren’t there.

The anger towards myself deflected on to others.

The guilt for lost opportunities. 
I am trying so hard to focus on my beautiful boys, their gorgeous cards, gifts and little pot plants. I am grateful that I have been blessed with the gift of motherhood and grateful for school and beavers for showing them how to show their appreciation and love today… 
Maybe it is because Mumbo’s death is still so recent, so raw that the negative feelings are pushing aside any positive ones i try to cling on to.
Maybe that’s why I am feeling up and down. Or particularly ‘volatile’ today.
  

It has to be one of my favourite times of the week.  Saturday mornings.

 

In a few months, Tom will have Saturday school and our usual early weekday set off will continue to the weekend.

 

But for the moment, it will continue to be one of my favourite indulgences. I have our super-king size bed all to myself…. I roll on my tummy, shove a cushion under my belly and let my body sink through the marshmallow of the mattress.  Just sink.  My shoulders fall and I let all any tension drain away.

 

As I drift off I can hear the gentle beat of the radio and the sounds of pancake Saturday taking place below me…. I used to give the boys pancake Fridays as it was my day off but 6.30am is just too early for pancake.  So it is the Big Man’s time and treat for the boys.

 

As I drift off, as I empty my mind, I let a flood of warmth and wealth and happiness flow over me.

 

At some point a small ball will creep under the covers and snuggle in and just say ‘hi mama’… usually Tom… before they bounce back downstairs again.

 

I take that as my cue to get up.  We have friends for dinner and my mind cranks in to gear.  Definitely time to get up!

 

Yesterday wasn’t such a good day.  But a good sleep, a glass of wine, the sun steaming through the barn Windows and the happy sounds in my house are signs that today will be better.

Today I wish I could have been a cat.  I look at Percy.  So snug and comfortable… Snoozing… sleeping.. stretching… being stroked and loved on.  Someone to feed him, someone to let him out to play.

 

A couple of things knocked me today.

 

A conversation at morning coffee when someone’s family member is not in a good way and they are waiting for them to die, talking about how it would be better for them, for everyone if that happened sooner rather than later.  It stirred up emotions.

 

I tried to distract myself with shopping for the weekend – friends for dinner and cooking my wonderful Mother in law her favourite family meal…

 

It all went a little pear shaped at the card stands; this time, it did suddenly hit me that I didn’t need one.  I have one for my lovely mother in law… but it was the first time I didn’t need one for my Mumbo. I bought one anyway.

 

I tried cooking to cheer my mood.  But the chopping therapy, methodical mixing and delicious aromas didn’t really help.  But at least the boys have a yummy tea.

 

I gave up after that.  An hour before pick up and I curled up on the sofa.  I went to get Willy and then brought him back to my sofa and we are curled up eating grapes and strawberries.

 

Am I sad or just exhausted from being positive and ok all the time?

 

Or both?

 

Is it just the grief and all the pent up emotions from the last month or the last 7 months…?

 

Is it the rollercoaster of watching my Mum degrade so rapidly and then die so suddenly…?

 

Is it all of the above weaved in to a continually changing life with a husband working away, watching a son being victimised, hurt and broken and another little boy mirroring my emotional state?

 

Whatever it is, it is an alien feeling and I am not entirely sure what to do with it.

 

Most days I can mask it with focussing on everything I am grateful for; my lovely boys, running, pilates, friends… I listen to and read positive books.   I justify my existence by mentally checking off all the things I do in the day, for the Big Man, the boys, for friends, clients… I fill my day, my time, my mind.

 

But today, I just want to be a cat. I would quite like to sleep all day and with the occasional someone to stroke my back and bring me food…

 

When the boys are in bed and the Big Man is in the pub, I am going to be a cat.
  

There is a particular spot on my run, just at the brow of a hill, where thoughts come to me.  Where really strong moments of clarity hit me and I know what is going to happen.   A line or a phrase will pop in to my head about something and my body is flooded with emotion because of the certainty for what is about to happen.

 

It doesn’t happen on every run.  And I never know which runs it will happen on.  It happens with lots of things… some little and some of bigger impact.

 

The 2 that most stick in my mind are the most recent.

 

The first time, was just after I saw my Mum in the home for the first time, when I spoon fed her puree and she told me ‘I love you’… As I was running up to the point, I was thinking of her and all her wonderfulness… and at the brow of the hill the sentence ticker taped across my mind ‘You took your last breath today.  Rest in Peace lovely Mumbo.’  I remember the sob as I reached the top of the hill and the tears as I carried on running through the heartache as I knew it wouldn’t be long that this would be coming true.

 

When I got home, I got the call from my sister and I rang my Dad and made arrangements to go and sit with Mum for her last week.

 

A few weeks later, as I ran the incline to the point, I was thinking about the Big Man, how unhappy he was living away in London and how miserable we all were without him.  And as I reached the same spot, the words flowed through my mind ‘It is the 1^st of March and I am so happy now that James is loving his new job in Yorkshire’.

 

It only took a couple of days and James was asked how he would feel signing off his communications with ‘with love and respect’… his final interview question before being offered a fantastic role with a fun, local, growing business.  From the evening of the 29^th February, he was officially living and working in Yorkshire.

 

So as I am just about to set off on my quick run around the block, I am mindful of what I will be thinking about… particularly as I run up the hill to my magical summit.  Clearly thoughts + emotions + a bit of magic make the thoughts happen, the emotions realise, and the imagined experience come true.

 

The old sayings – ‘be careful what you wish for’ or ‘what you think about, you bring about’ are clearly true in my case as I cross the supernatural summit.

 

And while it was a relief and a good outcome for my Mum to be at peace, I can’t help thinking and feeling it was all a bit sudden.  And on the month anniversary of her death, I still feel raw and sad and highly emotional.

 

And while it is a very, very good thing the Big Man is back at home, there are pockets of tension from having lived apart for a significant time, especially as we transition in to a new ‘normal’.

 

So my runners are on.  The sun is brilliant.

 

… Now what shall I think about?  What shall I wish for?

 

Will a magic wand be waived over me today?

 

We’ll have to wait and see.

 

 

 

 

Well. I wasn’t expecting snow.  I wasn’t expecting snow at all, let alone a lot of snow.  If I had known, I wouldn’t have taken James’ car this morning for the school runs… I did not do so well on the snow and ice (#porscheproblems).

 

It did mean that my plans for the day were slightly disrupted.  But in a way, the disruptions were good. I had time for some reflection.

 

Since the call from my sister about Mum being in an end of life situation, it feels like I have had life on warp speed.  I have been really good at living in the moment.  However, a month on, it feels like just moments.  A few moments.  And yet at the same time, a lifetime ago with so much happening in between…

 

A lovely friend of mine shared that through reading my daily blogs, she had been inspired to pick up the #365dayblogchallenge also.  To write. To share. And I am touched, honoured and also excited for her.

 

This experience, this journey started as a daily journal for myself.  To reflect on the day.  To think about what had happened, how I was feeling, what I learnt.  A way to focus on the positives of the day and look at anything less than positive and work out the silver lining.

 

I have always had a monologue playing in my head.  And this has been a wonderful way for me to get the noise out of my head on paper.  By doing so, I have felt calmer, had more clarity, more focus.  My self talk is hushed, well a little quieter.

 

The response I have had through publishing and baring my soul publicly has been totally unexpected and the words of support and often times, comfort has overwhelmed me with a feeling of … I don’t think there is a word.  Pure emotion that gives you a warm glow inside… is it quiet pride?  And if my words have helped someone in some way either from my experience or my response to a situation, then my heart skips a beat.

 

Those moments remind me of a quote I heard Oprah say today “You have to know what sparks the light in you, so you can illuminate the world”.   It is becoming clear to me that writing sparks a light in me…

 

Today, in my period of quiet time after slip sliding my way home in an inch of snow and a sports car, I looked at the pile of letters I have received since the death of Mum.  They sit on my kitchen table.  In the sunlight.  Waiting for me to respond to them, thank people for their kind words.  I intend to respond to a few a day, no pressure… just to take the time to say an eventual thank you for the thoughts and prayers that helped me through a difficult time.

 

It was in that quiet period of reflection, that I went back and re-read the days and few weeks of a month ago. And I had forgotten so much… the mind is clever.  It erases the difficult times, the tough times.  Mother Nature’s clever coping mechanism.

 

In my quiet period of reflection, I was so grateful to myself for taking the time to write my thoughts and feelings daily… taking photos to commemorate those precious moments.  To record how brave we were, how strong we were and how much love there was in room 40.

 

So I am excited for her…. And excited for anyone else inspired to start a daily journal, a daily blog… even if one or two sentences.

 

Maybe #365dayblogchallenge will go viral?

 

How amazing would that be?  So many reflective, calmer people. People sharing their experiences to help others go through similar situations and help them respond in good ways.

 

Leaving a legacy for those yet to come, for children, generations, so that they see the real you, the real person.  Leaving them so many life lessons that you may never get the chance to share with them.

 

My readings this week showed this card… so maybe… maybe..?

 

 

 

 

 

Me and my fat suit.

 

I have a very bad self image of myself.  I am consistently working on it.  However, I am learning to be patient with myself. My Mum was fixated about my weight as a young girl.    She worried that I had a tendency to go to fat, given some of the family genes.  My sugar intake was limited and seconds often not allowed.  In my 20’s, when I was let loose in to university and I could eat and drink what I liked, I did become rather chubby and moon faced… the blastaway and bacon sarnie diet.

 

In the holidays, her comments were far from complementary and I can still hear her saying ‘you can’t go out in that skirt, it doesn’t suit your legs’… I remember the little green wrap skirt.  It is only recently that I have started to wear skirts again, and only on a non ‘fat’ day.

 

As with most uni graduates who start serious work, the weight dropped off, my 24 hour hangovers wouldn’t cut it at Accenture (well – once or twice it did) and alongside so many others, I took to the treadmill and medicine ball in the Virgin gym.

 

When I got married at the end of my 20’s I was a size 6-8 and stayed that way until I fell pregnant with Tom… and ringing in my ears, I still hear my Mum’s cutting words, ‘you can tell you are pregnant from the size of your bum’.

 

I know she meant well – she had my health and best interests at heart.  She wanted me to look good and feel good.

 

Her well meaning, programmed my thoughts about how I look and what I eat… how I see myself

 

After 4 days of over indulgence – wine, cheese, bread, crepes, vin chaud, hot chocolate, chips, 3 course meals and gallons more wine and genepi –  I am definitely wearing a fat suit.

 

However, last night as I shared my knowledge and experience of healthy eating with a lovely bride and her bridesmaids, I realised that I have educated myself and now rather than feeling guilty or stressed about the fat suit, I know understand how and why I feel like I am wearing a fat suit and what I can do about it.

 

If only I knew in my teens and 20’s and after my pregnancies, I would have found shedding weight far less stressful and emotional.  The solution is just common sense and very simple.

 

The body is like a bath:  the taps are where the flow of food as well as toxins come in.  The drain is where they flow out.  If the flow in runs faster than they can run out, or the drain gets blocked, the bath fills up and sometimes overflows.  This filling up of the body represents the side effects of toxicity of the body – lethargy, bad skin, bloat and even to illness.  The right solution isn’t necessarily to get a mop to clear up or syphon out the toxins..   Simply, turn off the tap and start to work on unplugging the drain.  With my health and wellbeing business, I have a fabulous range of products at my immediate disposal to help with the unplugging safely.  The turning off the tap, just means get rid of bad food in the house!

 

The other fact I wish I knew back in my 20’s is that health and how you look is roughly 90% within your control.

 

Only 10% is genetic… so my Mum needn’t have worried so much.

 

I thought I had to run, exercise daily in order to keep slim and then it wouldn’t matter what I ate.  However, apparently, exercise only attributes to roughly 10% of your health. You can’t outrun a bad diet of late night burgers, chocolate for skipped lunch and a croissant at your desk….

 

That leaves roughly 80%.  That 80% is what you eat and more importantly what you digest.  So eat good stuff – 80% of the time at least anyway (We are allowed a bit of fun!  Happiness contributes to healthiness too) – and be good to your digestion. You wear how well your digestion is working on your face, your skin, your hair and your nails…

 

And the final fact of the fat suit … Fat is necessary to your health.  Fat protects your organs by trapping the toxins.  I used to be a skinny fat…  highly toxic.  Worked hard, exercised a lot, didn’t eat or if I did, I overcompensated for the lack of good food with chocolate and wine. I was always ill.  I was highly toxic… skinny and no fat to trap the toxins.

 

I now eat lots.  Lots of healthy foods, 3 meals a day and 2 healthy snacks.  My body isn’t a temple, but I do treat it well.  I want to live a long time and toxins are the main cause of so many diseases these days… Good food means I have lots of energy and exercise 3 times a week and that keeps me pretty lean.  I am a healthy size 8.

 

So pouring so many toxins in to my body over 4 days has totally messed with it and ruined my digestion.  I can feel my calves stretched to cover a layer of fatty tissue.  My tummy is bloated and wobbly.  I am lethargic, but can’t sleep.  I am sniffling.

 

I am wearing a fat suit.

 

So I am taking my own very good advice to my clients.  Eliminate the toxins. Drink loads of water to flush out those remaining in your body.  Get lots of sleep.  Eat nutrient rich food. Take good supplements. Get moving.

 

If I have learnt so much about health and weight and nutrition, it is because of my Mum and her conscious or unconscious remarks to me.  I used to hate those memories and now I embrace them… they remind me to be healthy first.

 

Today was just so deliciously, delightfully, unapologetically, wonderfully, refreshingly… normal.

 

No dramas.

 

Just routine.

 

Nothing out of the ordinary…

 

Some lovely chats with friends, business partners on the phone this morning.  Hearing Dad’s news over lunch.  A lovely catch up with a friend over a cuppa this afternoon.

 

Early morning pilates and even managed a quick sprint session around the block.

 

This evening, a bit of ‘work’ – some marketing and a workshop for a lovely bride and her bridesmaids on how they can look and feel the best on the inside and out for the big day.

 

Looking back on the day, I can’t really remember what I filled my day with… but I take that as a good sign.

 

No disruptions.

No heartache.

No surprises.

 

And now for a herbal tea, my book, my gratitudes and sleep.

 

Lovely.