Early Days
It’s been a long time since I took the time
to write anything for this blog.
In fact I think it will become something else really, more of a store of
my thoughts and memories rather than a regular thing to entertain. I have worried about how many others are
doing a great job of blogging about living with the loss of a partner – that
old story of how can I do any better than it’s already being done by others
with more experience of writing than me.
However, I am not doing this primarily to talk to the world or compete
for readers, but rather to keep memories of the journey safe for the future and
particularly my daughter.
With that in mind I do feel the need to
fill in some of the past eight years and I will try to do it sort of
chronologically.
The early days of my life with Sophie are a
bit of a blur. It’s such a big
thing getting used to having a new person in your life and to an extent I put
aside my grief to deal with the immediate needs of a new baby. We built up our own kind of weird
dysfunctional routine. It wasn’t
perfect and neither of us got much sleep at night, and the only sleep in the
day was when Sophie was in the buggy or the car seat, which meant I couldn’t
catch up myself, as I was needed to drive the car or walk the buggy! I got by somehow – with help from
my folks who often cooked and provided much company to keep me sane.
I remember feeling so rubbish that when the
health visitors came I wasn’t dressed yet – but I’m sure that’s what they
expect. I was proud of myself one
time though for answering the door whilst feeding Sophie – not that easy to
maneuver about to do that when you are a new mum.
As I got into the swing of it I began to go
to post natal classes at the local health clinic in Raynes Park. The mums that I met there were so
lovely, and the sessions practical that I was swept up in the whole baby thing
and happily so. Of course grief
and loss was always there, intangible yet so very real. As I mostly just saw the mums with the
babies it was OK. I wasn’t too
much of a sore thumb. Some of the
ladies had husbands who worked away or long hours too, so as we became friends
and did more socially it was safe.
A safe loving group who were so happy to be mums and share that
experience.
During that time the days were OK – they
had a pattern to them and I could cope fine. The difficult and dark times were night. I was alone with a baby who didn’t want
to sleep. Once or twice it was 3
or 4am before we even got to sleep.
There were times when I could understand how people can be tipped over
the edge of sanity. I’d never seen
so many lonely cold dark hours of the night before. I guess it was love that got me through – that and shear willpower. Love for Sophie and the will to get
through each night.
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The postnatal group would go for a tea or
coffee after the sessions at the health centre. A small café where we had to sit outside as there were so
many of us. My first public
breast-feeding happened outside this café, which felt like quite a milestone.
After the classes stopped we still would meet up. The Raynes Park people would walk up to
the common together, meeting others up there and again find nice spots for a
cuppa and a place to feed the babes.
Time went by and our little ones began to take solids – so all the
conversation turned to what we gave them, who made their own, what age you
started solids etc etc. It was
like having my own hotline to the experts. My own little support group – though I don’t think I
realized at the time, but that’s kind of what it was.
Leaving them behind was the hardest part
about moving away from Raynes Park and everything I knew. When I made the decision to move to
Bournemouth that was really my only regret. Although so many of them have moved away since then, that I
was glad I wasn’t left there with all of that lovely group leaving me!
So the end of the first chapter of Sophie’s
life was perhaps that move. Our
lives were about to change again, but this first little chapter had been a bit
of a cocoon in terms of being among familiar people and new friends with
babies. It had been an easy
transition – being on maternity leave and just having to think about me and
baby – mostly baby – didn’t take too much brainpower. But I longed for a move – had been longing for it for years
in fact and now I saw my chance.
So while on maternity leave I found a house, sold the flat, sorted
timings, found friends to help me and moved to Bournemouth. Nothing like a back-to-work deadline to
spur things on! But that’s a whole
other story.
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