7:28 am

Today I am attempting to take part in a discussion inspired by Merry's most recent blog post. Honestly, at this moment, I've no idea what it is I want to say.
Words dried up here some time ago. These pages no longer feel like a safe place to go over and over and over again just how much I love and miss Florence.
Like Merry, I predicted back in those early days that this blog would gradually become less about Florence as time went on. It never really was a blog just for her anyway.
I tried that, I started moving all the posts about her over there...it's still a work in progress, too painful to continue, and too hard to delete.
As we approach Summer, and what would have been Florence's third birthday, I think I can say that we have accepted her loss as part of our lives. She is woven in to everything, so present, unyet so very distant.

"And then came the rainbows"

Ernest is a joy to us all, he is so very full of life, and my goodness, I wish I'd had him when I was younger, that boy wears me out!
He'll be two soon. I still marvel at his aliveness.
Last evening as I was trying to make our bed, and he was leaping all over the duvet, and shouting "wheeee!", I thought back to that scrappy little screaming bundle he was almost two years ago. To how worried we all were about him, how weary he looked, not ready to be born. How terrified I was until he was no longer a baby...I still get scared, but it was worse when he was a baby.

Life now is busy, really busy. Each evening I fall into bed, bone achingly tired, and although I do long for some free time to relax, I'm too scared to wish for it.

The truth is, that I'm ok, really ok, but equally and often, I'm not ok with being ok.

Don't be shy, say hello!


  1. beautiful words, really so honest and positive. You are amazing xxx

  2. Oh, that last line, how true it is. Beautiful words.

  3. Hi, I'm a regular reader but don't think I've posted here. My William would've been turning 6 in July. Your words ring so true. Yes. OK. But also OK, with not being OK. Understand that concept completely. And its a day by day proposition.

  4. Yep, the last line. Me too.

  5. It's the same here, I remember how much we worried about the babies being born and how we fretted that maybe they would not make it afterall, and then, "the rainbows". They came! They are alive, rambunctious, glorious and real. More and more I feel exposed on my blog, as though I can no longer share what it means to miss Henry, because it becomes clearer to me each year how the only ones who truly understand are you all, the other babylost mamas. I think over time I have wanted more and more to cocoon my feelings for Henry (as perhaps you have done with Florence) to protect him from prying eyes that cannot love him as I have. So much love to you dear...

  6. I dont think there will be a rainbow baby for us, it took 2 years of trying to get pregnant with Ellie. But I can see how it must help. I would probably still be in PJ's every day, not getting off the sofa, if I didn't have Oscar to see too. Either way though, there are good times/weeks/days/minutes, and bad.
    Much love

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  8. Yes, that last line says so much and is exactly how I feel many days. xx


Hi, I love to hear from readers, hate to think I'm talking to myself here, so don't be shy say hello!