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.

Tuesday, 28 March 2017

Lucas @ Eight Months

Eight months have passed by quicker than lightening and Lucas is getting so big now, a little boy now! Its been a busy month and a little baby getting increasingly keen to move. Which is great news for Luc but bad news for me - I was quite liking having a stationary baby!

Through the month he has gone from over-reaching and turning himself around and around in circles on his tummy to beginning to push himself forward; burying his face in the floor and pushing up with his feet.

And now, just the last day or two at eight months and one week old he has developed a beautiful little 'The Worm' style commando crawl. Forward motion, we have forward motion people!  


video


Beautiful happy boy. You are eight months old. Tomorrow it will be your 'out as long as in day' - 36 weeks and 1 day since you were born. I cannot believe we're about to hit another milestone along the way to your birthday. 36 weeks born and now 36 weeks old. 

You are becoming ever the monkey. One of your favourite games at the moment is to pull your socks off so you can play with your toes, still so interested in your toes. You'll be eating your food and trying to put your socks and toes in your mouth at the same time, it is very frustrating. Oh and getting dressed has become some sort of olympic sport! You will NOT stay still, your try and roll, your try and kick me away. There is always something around you that is far more interesting than putting your nappy and clothes on. Honestly, sometimes it is physically exhausting and I feel out of breath by the time I've wrestled you into your clothes! Maybe Mummy just needs to get fitter! Monkey. 

This month you have been very busy trying to move. Sitting up skills still need much work, but moving around the floor? You've got that mastered little man! You love nothing more than to spin yourself around in circles on your tummy; in fact you spend most of your time on the floor on your tummy now.... and now you can move yourself forward commando Worm style too! Our house just got even more chaotic - an on the move baby. You're pushing yourself up on to your hand and knees too and briefly rocking so I don't think it will be too many more weeks before that Worm move becomes a proper speedy crawl either. I wonder if you'll be our earliest crawler yet? I think you're our earliest commando maneuverer anway!  Your brothers are going to have to start watching their toys that little bit more closely aren't they Lucas! 



This month you're favourite toy has been your crawl ball. Well and wet wipe packets; yes you've discovered wet wipe packets and you put so much energy into finding a packet to hold. You've even managed on a few occasions to start taking wipes out of a packet! Remind me why we buy toys again?! 


You've been on your first proper weeks holiday in the last few weeks. We went to Bluestone in West Wales with your Aunties and Uncle and cousins. It was such a lovely time and you weren't fazed at all by being away. You had your first holiday, and first tractor ride, first finger food, first brush of teeth and first bash on the iPad all in one week! It was a truly magnificent week packed full of firsts! 

Your favourite food is currently parsnip and rice cakes (not together!) Which is strange considering parsnip is one of the few vegetables that Mummy really does not like! I was expecting a much bigger weight gain from you this month as you feel heavier in arms now and your face has filled out some more; but no, you are a little 18lb 7oz at eight months old. Two pounds smaller than both of your brothers at the same age!

We're still wistfully hoping you're going to re-crack this sleeping business again soon. I still don't understand how you managed to sleep for a month 7 until 7 (all those months ago, back between three and four months)  and now we're up with you around three times each night from around 11pm (and the evenings can be equally as fussy sometimes too!) Some nights we are 'up up' - not just for 'a feed' up! Yes young man, you seem to be getting into the habit a few nights a week now of just not resettling and fussing and being awake for an hour or two (or even more!). See, you're a monkey and sometimes Mummy is feeling very tired. Please have a think about settling down a bit more now when I'm back in work! 


Yes the dreaded back to work is looming next month and I'm already feeling so sad about leaving you. Your first settling in session at nursery is arranged and I'll be buying your little nursery bag sometime in the next few weeks. I know you'll be fine really, and I know you'll have lots of fun just like your big brothers did, but I don't feel ready to leave you and I'm not convinced you are ready to leave me. Unlike your brothers you're not entirely reliable taking a bottle of milk so this could prove very difficult for you if you decide to refuse when I'm in work and not available to just come back home when you want me to! I'm just hoping it all works out. 

You're amazing Lucas. You blow us away every day and we're all so totally in love with you. Our baby. 


Saturday, 25 March 2017

Just A Stupid Day

This week I've been riding a wave of anxiety. The worst in such a long time. I've been restless, jittery, panicky. I've let my mind run away with me. The nights have been sleepless (and not just because of the baby) I haven't been able to switch off. 

It took me a few days to figure out why. 

Mother's Day. 

Mother's Day making me feel this sense of needing to visit the cemetery. Mother's Day making me realise we haven't been there since Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve. Wrapping my head around the guilt attached to that fact. 

So its been there hanging over my head. Feeling like I need to go to the cemetery vs. feeling like I cannot cope with going to the cemetery. 

I wish it hadn't become this hard to go. I wish it hadn't become this huge ordeal to go. I wish going didn't bring the absolute worst out in me. 

I don't know when it changed. I used to feel useful there, like I was her mother there, like I was doing something for her there. Now I feel like I'm spiralling out of control when we're preparing to go there, think about going there, while we're there. Now it all feels too much. It hurts too much. 

So today I have been there, on my own. I can't remember the last time I was there on my own.  But the usual happened, I started to lose the plot, unreasonably impatient with the children this morning, pushed against Jon this afternoon, and this time stormed off. Did the visit on my own. 

It was different. It was calmer on my own. Calmer but not peaceful. My insides still all whirred up, uneasy, unsettled. 

I've made this weekend harder for myself than it needed to be. You would think I'd have learnt by now wouldn't you. A plan. Always have a plan. Be prepared. We've proved that to work in past years.

But no, didn't make a concrete plan. Winging it weekend. I think I forgot, last year I got to avoid it again because it was the same day as Jon's birthday. A mixture of forgettery and avoidery. Avoidery and not really sure what to do anyway with the end of maternity leave squeeze firmly squeezing us too. 

Foolish girl. I haven't helped myself. 

Why is this ridiculous commercialised day so hard? Why? It is just a day. A stupid day. 

I've vowed so many times I would get better at this. And I think sometimes I am better at it. But not this weekend. Again. 

And for another year I hope those beautiful boys, who should be enough, are mostly oblivious. 

This weekend I am tired.
Saturday, 18 March 2017

Snipped

This has been brewing for a week. Bubbling into a brain dump. My heart wrestling with my head. My husbands snip. 

Its done. Monday it was done. He's snipped. So we're done. 

Even though I already knew full well Lucas was my last. Even though I agreed Lucas would be the last. Even though him being the last was the right decision for this family for a whole multitude of reasons; mentally, medically, physically, emotionally, financially, coping capacity. 

Even though. Finality is not resting well just now. My heart isn't at peace with the end of our baby days, even though my head knows it is time and it is right. Even though I don't even really want any more babies anyway! These boys are my number.

But I can't help but wistfully look at my newest baby and will time to go slower and my baby days to last longer because I'm not really ready to let them all go; these infant years and my boys being all mine. Just mine. 

But we're done. A different chapter is looming and I'm not quite there.

It pains me to admit why my heart isn't at peace. 

A still longing for a girl.

Realising how utterly terrible it must sound when I still have so much. 

A longing for a girl that is entirely separate for my longing for Anabelle. Or maybe it isn't. Sometimes I just don't know. A longing for another girl we never had and never will have. 

What we got instead was magnificent, is magnificent. Three beautiful wonderful boys that came home. Lived. And fill our lives with so much life, love, colour, joy, healing. My boys so utterly adored beyond all measure, with so much to come, so much to look forward to, to enjoy, memories to make. A beautiful blessed life. 

But then there are those broken pieces of me that even they cannot fix.

The piece of me that is so fed up the sheer anxiety ripping through me every time I buy a present for a friends little girl. The piece of me that still after almost seven years cannot cope with girls clothes sections of stores. When what should be a simple decision like choosing an outfit or other item as a gift turns into this enormous heart palpitating ordeal.  The pieces of me that dread the endless bloody Princess parties that I could never throw for myself. The pieces of me that somewhat dread some close pregnancy and birth announcements because the 'fear' of a girl to deal with makes all my hairs stand on end and my stomach fall out. When conversations about family dynamics and so many fears of the future to come hurt and unsettle me because I'm now a mother of only boys and we lost our only girl. When you re-realise time after time after time all that was lost when our only daughter was robbed from us. Robbed. Realising I'd always imagined maybe another girl would heal some of this but it was never meant to be.

Unjust and unfair. Maybe it would've never have felt like this if there had never been a little girl penned in our lives.  But there was and there should be. 

Most of the time grief and life rumble along quite nicely together now, and the rainbows outshine the darkness. But that rawness lurks in the shadows. And some weeks, like this week, they threaten to jump out.  Because this week, snipped and really very finished now, has demanded that my crumpled thoughts have to try and let this go. And still I do not know how. 

A jumbled up mess of what was, what is and what could've been.


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Caz
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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