Our beautiful baby daughter Anabelle was born sleeping June 2010.
Blessed with the screaming arrivals of our gorgeous rainbow sons,
Alexander October 2011, Zachary November 2013 and Lucas July 2016.

After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows
Heartbreak. Joy. Death. Life. But most of all Love.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Colour Me Black

Watch out, I’m in a foul mood.
If you could describe me as a colour, today it would be black.  I’m feeling angry and resentful and at the moment I cannot even find it within me to feel guilty or spiteful about it. (Even though I know I am).
I am so sick of hearing other people’s happy news, hearing about happy planned events, the pregnancy and birth announcements, seeing new happy family pictures on facebook.  I don’t think some people realise how lucky they are to have what they’ve got. I should stay away from facebook – but it keeps drawing me in. It’s like I can’t help myself than to look and then be constantly crushed and reminded of what we’re missing out on.
Yesterday was a high point and today it is almost as if I’ve reacted to the high by having the worst opposite of days I can. As if a high inevitably means a horrible low. Just like a rollercoaster. When you reach the top, your stomach has a sinking feeling as you are thrown to the bottom again. I’m so tired today my eyes are burning – this is not helping my foulness.
We were ready for our lives to change. But not like this. Anabelle even in her absence has bought the biggest emotional changes. We’re not the same people. Losing Anabelle has aged me.
For the most part, our day to day existence is the same. This in itself is so painful, because our day to day should've seen some of the biggest changes. We continue to spend our evenings cooking tea, watching telly, going on the internet, little household chores – I look at us sometimes in the evening and I hate that daily routine part of our lives remains the same. There is no baby here to bath, feed, change, settle to sleep as there should’ve been.  
I was looking forward to being a Mummy so much. We were going to be a family. I didn’t care that our social life would become non-existent, that childless friends would become more distant, because Anabelle as fas as we were both concerned would be put first above all else. Because that is what being a parent is all about. Meeting the needs of your children before your own or anybody else’s.
I would give anything to have that. I can’t bear it when I hear people moaning about their children, pregnancy, sleepless night. Don’t they realise how lucky they are to have them?  How precious they are? That it could all end in an instant?
I resent that I will never again live in blissful ignorance. That has been taken away from me and been replaced with anxiety and fear of having more of my babies die.
Yesterday I was reading a book about trying again. In there I read this; “I realised then that a child who makes it into this world is indeed a miracle and has perhaps performed the greatest feat or his or her life just by growing into a complete human being and being born without mishap.” Oh how true those words from Marylin Hilton. If this, my daughter’s death has taught me anything, it will be to treasure every single moment of time I spend with any future children, the good and the harder times, because they will be our miracles.
And so here is my wish for today: I wish you would understand that being around or hearing about pregnant women, newborn babies or babies around my Anabelle’s age is uncomfortable and painful for me.


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After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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Written by C.E Morgan. Powered by Blogger.