After Anabelle

It is no secret how much I love the Six Weeks of Summer (SWOS)! 

I feel in a truly privileged position to be able to be home with the boys each school holiday, but especially this school holiday.  For all of the things I miss with them during the year due to work and the long working days I pull so they barely see me any Wednesday, Thursday or Friday;  this holiday always feels like the time to make up for it!  

Also this holiday is long. Long and sometimes hard going. Six weeks of lots of doing it solo needs some momentum to keep it going and everyone entertained. It isn't about being showy of trying to be the perfect Mum (Goodness knows that in amongst this week of packed out activities and fun things to do we have also already navigated epic tantrums and tears, strops from me, strops from them, the cross and shouty moments with all those feeling fed up of them already moments thrown in too. Don't be too fooled by the rose-tinted instagram!) But our SWOS? It is just the way we have found summer has worked for us. 

So for the third year we've planned out our SWOS (and I've every intention to keep this up until they're moody teenagers who don't want to join in anymore!), with a weekly theme and lots of arts, crafts, music, stories, films, activities and day trips planned around it. (Got to love a bit of pinterest!) So we have something on the cards for every day, whether it be just at home or out for the day, but that isn't to say we won't go off plan too. Already twice this week Xander has come up with a better idea than I had! Haha! 

Apart from the last two days the start of the summer holidays has been a world away from last year when I had renamed July to Julvember! Properly scorching! We're going through a bottle of sun-cream a week at the moment and until yesterday I couldn't remember the last time the boys had worn trousers or a jumper. It has made for a lovely start to the summer holidays and if the rain could just stick to the odd day here or there or overnight that would be great! 

So "Animals" Week. Here is the nutshell. 

And here are the photos! 

Monday 

Well Monday was a bit of a tenuous link because we were still at Paulton's Park for Lucas's birthday celebrations. We saw some extinct animals models in the form of the Lost Kingdom and we popped into the newly opened Little Africa in the park too. 

Tuesday 

We built a Duplo Zoo. Created by the boys themselves. Zachy decided that the zoo needed a park - so he included a see-saw, slide and a roundabout! They took turns to make areas for different animals to live; Xander concentrated on the giraffe house and then Zac built one for the elephants. Sharing out different responsibilities and displaying excellent team work and collaboration too. They were a little less patient with Luc's attempts though - pesky baby mostly trying to take the zoo apart before they had finished it! We listened to Carnival of the Animals too and what I found really interesting was that when I asked the boys what animal they thought the opening of the music was about, Zac instantly said Lion! Which it is indeed! 

So this Wednesday we went along with Nana, to The Wild Place Project, a spin off from Bristol Zoo. I wasn't sure what to expect. We had been once before for Zac's first birthday, but being November it was too cold, and very rainy which made that day out quite naff. It was interesting to see that the zoo felt much better and bigger than it had when we had visited those three years ago. With splendid weather and older and more able children tagging along it was a really nice day out (and I plan to go back with Luc on  Monday or Tuesday while the boys are at school!) 

The boys were both very interested in the Lemur's on the walkthrough and my favourite was the giraffe. There was a good variety of animals for a small zoo, different wooded areas to explore, a big open field to play games on, activity trails to follow,  lots of play areas around the site encouraging adventurous play and I really liked the 'Barefoot Walk' too! 

Somehow my baby is two. And really I should probably stop calling him the baby, what now with him being two and not really a baby at all anymore. But my baby. Two. 

Nevermind the last six months since his last update, I don't know where the last two years have gone. It feels a bizzare combination of it feeling only such a short time ago since he was born and then it feeling so long ago all at the same time. 

Last Tuesday it was Zachary's nursery graduation. The last time we had sat for a nursery graduation was Alexander's, almost two years ago exactly albeit shy of a day to Zac's. I remember it so vividly because it was my last full day of pregnancy with Lucas. We went straight from Xander's very emotional graduation to the hospital for my final baby monitoring and pre-op appointment in readiness for the very next day when Lucas would be born. And then there we were, two years later at Zac's nursery graduation just two days shy of our baby's second birthday. Bouncing from one child's milestone to the next child seemingly in a blink of an eye. Before we know it, another two years from now, it will be Lucas's nursery graduation just shy of his 4th birthday. Poignant and precious moments. 

Lucas Little you are TWO! You are 85cm tall and weigh in at 29lbs. You are just marvellous, full of mischief, cheekiness and character. So self-assured and able to hold your own with your two big brothers (and other children at public places too). You take no messing and will not be fobbed off. You will not allow a toy to be taken from your grasp. You will stand your ground quite firmly. You will not let them just treat you like the baby. You want to be in there, joining in, right there in the thick of it. 

You have such beautiful bonds with your big brothers. I can already tell how much you look up to them; studying everything they do, mimicking their noises, their movements, copying all their games. So often I watch you and see an absolute miniature Xander or tiny Zac. You have perfected all their mannerisms and of course have come up with your own too.  And they love you so much. Both of them still refer to you as their baby. Zac introduces you to everyone as 'and this is my baby Luc' and Xander just tries so hard to entertain you. You may be a spoilt baby brother but their brother-ing has given you so much beautiful self-confidence. 

Well mostly beautiful. There was that moment a few months ago, on the day you turned 22 months old, when a 'copying your big brothers' moment led to a falling off the computer chair and hitting the desk on the way down accident resulting in a rather large gash on your eyebrow. And my first experience of taking one of my babies to theatre (and the weeks long aftermath of taking that long to calm down from it - especially with all the other bumps you had in such a short space of time, including Daddy falling over while carrying you - you looked in the wars)! Yes you my baby, my youngest, were my first boy to need a general anaesthetic to stitch you back up...

It felt like a minor injury that snowballed fast on arrival at the hospital; thinking you needed glue and a check over in A&E, to being told by triage that the wound was too big for glue to do the job and that she thought it would need stitches, to the Dr then telling me that you were too little for them to attempt stitches without a general anaesthetic, and then even a moment where they had to weigh you to check you were chunky enough for theatre in Newport otherwise we would need to be transferred to Cardiff Children's Hospital. Luckily, you were chunky enough to stay in Newport. But boy what a day. The next morning you were booked for theatre and to say I felt sick the whole time you were away from me is an understatement. You on the other hand came out with a scar that will tell a story for you one day. I'm under no illusion this will be our last trip to A&E before all you boys are grown up. 

At the moment you are trying to talk finally and it suddenly seems more on your agenda. Although you still don't call me Mummy. I get the occasional Mama still, and I think you've attempted 'Me-me' a few times but mostly I am now  "eeeee" as in the end of Mummy. Most of your words are still end-sounding. But you are trying to say more and more. I have a funny feeling by the end of the summer holidays you will be much more a little talking baby. Which will make you feel even less like my baby again. 

Right now your favourite expressions are "Yeh yeh yeh", "Oiiiiiuh", "Owwwwwwuh" or "Nooooouh". Which is all really quite funny. When did you get such a little attitude?! But boy are you determined and have thrown some of the best paddies in all manner of places (think B&M Bargains) already - throwing yourself so dramatically down on the floor face down, lying flat on your tummy hiding your face and screaming. Luckily for Mummy though, we've already been here twice before and what felt like a huge (especially in a shop) ordeal with your older brothers leaves me with much more water off a ducks back patience for it with you. It will pass as you find your way older. 

But mostly, you are so happy! You are so happy to go with the flow and are such a joy to have around. You are so affectionate - giving out such lovely comedy kisses and are constantly giving us cuddles and saying 'eeeze' for squeeze as you wrap your arms around our necks. 

At the age of two there are so many things you enjoy and could all be your favourites! After a Barry Transport Day you are particularly excited by buses - screeching "uss" every time you see one (so much so that Daddy took you on a special bus ride for your birthday morning!), you like to have Iggle Piggle to cuddle while you go to sleep, you love having a ride on your bike,  playing with Duplo, Happyland, Toot Toots and all manner of cars. You love the garden, you will read book after book with me finding all the things in the pictures and anticipating and mimicking all the key phrases, you love having a bath and your Sunday morning swimming lessons (but not getting out or seeing a towel so much), you love singing songs - especially Row Row Row Boat, you love making all manner of noises but especially pretending to be a Dinosaur or a Dragon or any kind of ROAR!   Your favourite things on the TV are Peppa Pig (of course), Hey Duggee (where you get all your "Yeh yeh yeh" from!) and even a bit of Ben and Holly.  

At two you now know lots and lots of animal names and sounds and lots and lots of your body parts. You can do all your puzzles and shape-sorters and now you're trying to do 2, 3 and 4 piece puzzles. You love anything that can be counted and know that after you hear 'nine' comes 'ten'! You are already so interested in numbers and counting. I'm finding it all very exciting going through this such rapid soaking everything up like a sponge phase again. 

And for the next year I'm most excited that we're going to have every Monday and Tuesday as 'Just Mummy and Luc' days. A whole year without that middle of the day school run, meaning we can go to so many places and have so many adventures before I have to start giving you to school too. 

You absolutely love life Lucas and I'm in no rush at all for you to stop being my baby. The most precious time of my day is our morning snuggle when you sleepily cuddle up next to me and want milk. With two older brothers I know how limited your baby baby days are now; so soon you will stop wanting milk with Mummy (although you have now out-fed both of your brothers), you'll stop wanting to be held like a baby and rocked in my arms, you'll stop all the 'won't be put down' for good, you'll stop falling asleep on my chest. And already I miss those days and they're not even over yet! 

We have thoroughly enjoyed all of your second birthday celebrations; why have only a birth-day when you can have at least a week we think! So you had your party at the farm, your new garden toys and party on your actual birthday and your trip to Peppa Pig World at the start of this week. You particularly liked the safari truck in your new Happyland set and your new sandpit has been a very big hit (which is just as well because it took Mummy and Daddy 2 hours with ridiculous instructions to build it!). Your favourite rides at Peppa Pig World were Grampy Rabbit's Boat and Dino Chase - your first mini-coaster and boy did you love it shouting "Wheeee" all the way around. Why do I get the impression your going to be a bit of a thrill seeker already?! 

It has been so strange to go through a second birthday you know, not already expecting your next sibling or planning for one to soon be on the way. You are my last little baby, my last baby to turn from one to two and all these moments are much more precious to me than you could possibly know. 

You are adored by us all Lucas Elias and it is going to be a terrific year of Two! 

Loved endlessly and always,

Mummy and Daddy xXx 

  

I can hardly fathom that Anabelle turned eight this week. 

That eight years have passed by. Right back then I didn't know how I was going to survive eight seconds, eight minutes, eight hours, eight days, eight weeks, eight months.... when I was shattered into a million pieces and the pain was indescribable..... let alone eight years. 

Eight years. 

June is always hard and I'm never exactly quite sure how the milestones and the throw back to 2010 will affect me.  Each year the symptoms are ever present but slightly different. This year it has been restlessness, frequent nausea for no apparent reason and an overwhelming and irrational feeling of panic.  This year, after my reports had been finished, I seemed to lose the ability to think, make decisions or feel present. Maybe not quite aware of myself in space. 

It is remarkable that her birthday passed with such relative calm when at the beginning of this week especially, I didn't feel like I had myself very together at all. Monday and Tuesday I didn't want Jon to go to work and clock watched all of the day until he was home again. Panicky and unsettled. Work Wednesday was a good distraction and then her birthday arrived and for the most part I felt calmer.  

I can't even begin to imagine how grown up she would feel now. How big and tall she would be. Taller than I could know. Not so little at all anymore and maturing rapidly before our eyes. I'm sure this would've been a year of big changes with the transition from infants to juniors under our belts; already on the cusp of finishing Year 3 to begin Year 4. Junior school already whizzing by with high school in our sights before we would know it.  

Our baby girl. On Thursday it was your birthday. You were eight. 

Once again the weather didn't let us down and it was a beautiful sunny day.  Always sunny on your birthday baby girl, I just can't imagine it ever raining. The longest and most beautiful day of the year for you. 

We always try so hard to mark your birthday perfectly. This year we gave your day a unicorn theme. I have no idea if you would even still like unicorns at the age of eight but they are very popular at the moment with lots of little girls. We bought a beautiful pink unicorn for the front garden to sit by your wishing well, bought you a unicorn balloon, a unicorn letter B which Mummy decorated, a unicorn birthday cake, unicorn sparkle glitter, a unicorn craft box and some unicorn party favours for your little brothers to play with on your birthday. 

After dropping your little brothers to school, Daddy and I went out with your baby brother for a birthday breakfast, we collected your huge number 8 balloon and your flowers, and then after morning school for Zachy we made unicorn biscuits ready for your unicorn themed birthday picnic after school. Xander came home from school and we went to your garden to decorate. Your brothers opened your presents for you and played with your flying unicorns (or Alicorns to be specific as Zachy told us!) This year we didn't send balloons after becoming more environmentally conscious about it, but instead released thousands of bubbles; I think this was Luc's favourite bit! We sang happy birthday to you and threw unicorn glitter into the air to make your garden sparkle that little bit more!  

We decided this year to go to Keepers Pond for a picnic and to fly kites for your birthday. Keepers Pond is where I wrote your eulogy for your funeral and where I wrote lots of my letter to you that is safely tucked away with you. We feel a special connection there and have been there for some of your birthdays before. This year it was the perfect place to go and fly your unicorn kite and let your brothers fly their kites.  We ate all our unicorn treats, hid some rocks with your name written on and even came across a group of people having a festival for the summer solstice, which was quite strange but they were all very friendly.  They even let your little brothers have a go at drumming for a few minutes! 

And then we finished your day by driving home and allowing Luc, who was the only one still awake, to blow out all of your candles on your unicorn birthday cake. It was good practice for him ready for his birthday next month!  And then he waved night night to your photo. Another brother who will become more aware of your existence in this family. 

It was a good birthday Belle. There were moments, and we ache tremendously every year that you are not here for your birthday. I just wish it was different. But it was lovely day, being able to make it all about you. 

Even your brothers enjoy making it all about you on your birthday. Zachy went into school telling his teaching assistant that it was your birthday and she wanted him to tell her all about our birthday plans for you. Zachy is so open about his sister, you are his Belle 'but she died' in his innocent understanding. I think he imagines you would be just like Princess Belle from the films. He came home from school on your birthday with a picture he had drawn of you, with a yellow dress just like Princess Belle and a heart and a number 8 because he knew you were eight that day. I often wonder what you would make of your brothers. I imagine you mothering your baby Lucas and being protective of Zachy, but I also imagine you and Xander would be at the bickering stage of being so close in age, with him desperate to be as big as you are.   In your absence he is insistent that he is the biggest because you are really still a baby and zero, not eight.   

And he is right of course. I struggle to imagine you anything other than my tiny baby girl so it must be impossible for your six year old brother when all he sees is your baby pictures and understands that when someone has died that they cannot grow anymore. 

I try to imagine how you, as an eight year old girl, would've been like. What would you like now? Would you have been all over The Greatest Showman craze and most popular film of the year no doubt.  Would you have wanted to sing one of the songs in, your would have been school,  recent talent show? Would you have liked all the Mummy and Me clothes that have become ever popular and mainstream or would you have been reaching the age where you started to think it was a bit embarrassing? 

Maybe this is the birthday I would've let you have your nails painted at the salon as a super big girl birthday treat just like Mummy. Would you have wanted a party for your birthday this year or would you be feeling so grown up now and wanting to do something slightly more grown up like the cinema and a meal with your closest friends for your birthday? I have clear memories of my own eighth birthday; I'm pretty sure we went out for a family meal with my Grandma and Grandad too and ended up back at their house where I was given the tiniest amount of wine in proper glass and felt tremendously grown up about it. Would this have been one of the birthday you would have really remembered too? 

Our beautiful girl. I wish we all got to know what you would've been like when you were eight and didn't have to only wonder and imagine.  

Eight.  Happy birthday our baby girl.  

Mummy and Daddy, Xander and Zachy and Luc all love you endlessly. 

"You are my angel, my darling, my star, 

and my love will find you, wherever you are." 

It seemed only fair, that before June got deeper, or July arrived and Lucas's birthday with it, that Zachary had his four and a half update!  

It was only four posts ago that I updated all about him being four! 2018 has not been a frequent blogging year, that is for sure.  

My wonderful and complex little boy. 

All of my previous update for his birthday still rings true. He still defines himself as the 'middle' sized but big boy, still undoubtedly cheeky and funny and highly entertaining, still an absolutely rascal, still Jekyll and Hyde, still stubborn, still my sensitive one, still my worry.

I worry constantly about his self-confidence along with his apparent anxiety and how it presents itself in some certain situations (such as Sport's Day yesterday which he did not cope well with at all), his poor and what feels fairly limited in comparison to Xander or Luc's diet, (for context Luc is more or less the same weight as Zachary now, if not over-taking him!) and worrying if his lack of food quantity and variety is the reason for his small stature and frame,  among other worries of sensory sensitivities and noise sensitivity and what it all really means for Zachary or the long term.  It has broken my heart when he has got upset thinking someone doesn't like him, because he is so sensitive to the nuances of relationships and he is still figuring it all out.  Worrying that his uncooperative behaviour is his way of masking or communicating he is anxious and knowing I don't always handle that as I should and worrying endlessly that I've contributed to his poor self-confidence and anxiety. And just generally sometimes feeling a bit rubbish Mummy about it all. 

Particularly worrying at the moment of course about the transition to Reception that will be upon us in no time. My wonderfully bright boy who is astounding me all the time with his knowledge and I think will academically go far in Reception and beyond, but I'm not at all convinced he is emotionally ready and what the longer term impact that will have on him.

But then again, there is still almost three months to go and maybe my Small boy will surprise us. 

So little has changed, yet so much has happened all at the same time!

So Zachy! You are four and a half now. This has indeed been a very important milestone and in fact it is has been so important that you are insisting that I am specific with your age. If you hear me tell anyone that you are four now I am instantly being corrected that you are NOT four, you are FOUR AND A HALF. 

The half is very significant. 

You had the "best half birthday ever".  Your words! We went to cBeebies Land and you had a blast! You loved exploring Mr Tumble's sensory garden, Mr Blooms garden shed, the Tree Tops ride, playing in Tree Fu Tom's adventure playground, the Octonauts ride, Postman Pats ride, Iggle Piggle's boat ride. You were particularly beautiful thanking me and Daddy for taking your to cBeebies Land. Still my little boy who is so beaming of gratitude for the special things you have and do. 

At four and a half you are 99cm tall and 32lbs. Still my Small, but it feels like you have had a teeny tiny growth spurt at least, because your wardrobe is now a mix of 2-3 and 3-4 clothes; although all of the 3-4 bottoms need Nana adjusting or a good tie up waist! 

You have been much more settled in school on the whole, albeit apart from the odd blip. It has definitely helped that your teachers seem to know what makes you tick now and you absolutely adore your new classroom in the brand new foundation building. I love hearing about all the things you are learning and it is really clear you are excited by all the things you are learning too. You are always telling me you are learning letters and numbers.  Your writing is just beautiful, and your drawings, and how you write your numbers. Your letter formation is wonderfully clear and you love copying something that a grown up has written.  Just last week too you told me you were learning about shapes and that a diamond on its side is called a rhombus! Which I thought was a very grown up thing to know when you are only four and half. 


One of my proudest days of you since your birthday was the day you rode your scooter. The day you finally cracked it, and persevered and got speedier and speedier over the next two weeks. Oh my boy, it took you a year to transition from scooting on your little seat to scooting stood up and I literally could've burst with pride and couldn't have been more chuffed!  You are equally speedy on your PJ Masks bike too; what a little superstar. You have really cracked pedaling and scooting in the last six months! 

Yesterday was one of those blippy days though, where it has highlighted to me how painful large crowds of people watching something are for you. Sports Day. All week you have been so excited for Sports Day, coming home and tell me all the sports you had been practicing and playing in school and that Daddy was going to watch. But then when you saw all of the other parents there too it was all too much for you and cried because you didn't like all the grown ups or all of the noise there. You told me when I came home from work that it was too scary for you.  And you know what, that is absolutely ok. 

Mummy and your teacher will make sure we have a plan in place ready to help you for the next event when there will be lots of Mummies and Daddies watching and lots of ideas in place ready to help you move to Reception and big school in September.  

I am so aware you find some thing tricky Zachy. It isn't even that you are shy, because that isn't the case; you will talk to literally anyone in all manner of places. But at the moment it seems performance situations are overwhelming, change of routine and new things are sometimes overwhelming. Whether this is going to be something you grow out of with time, confidence building and maturity or whether things like this will always be a challenge for you I just don't know.  But I so desperately want you to find everything about life easier than you sometimes do right now. Regardless I promise I will always be your voice and champion when you need me to be. 

At four and a half you are very particular. You are four and a half, not four, you are quick to correct people when they get your grandparent names mixed up, or say the wrong thing. And most particular of all because you have been four you have needed four or everything. For example, biscuits. Haha. Now you are four and half apparently you need five. I'm not sure where that logic comes from.... but it does make me giggle. 

You are particular about your clothes and have very firm ideas about what you would like to wear! You do NOT like having your vest tucked into your pants or your tshirt tucked in to your trousers. All winter while we have had all this snowy weather (yes finally, your first proper proper experience of snow, snow up as far as your bottom in places!) and I've been trying to keep you warm you have been quite insistent that you do not want to be tucked in. We have had to strike deals that you will keep you vest tucked in while we're outside but you can pull it out as soon as we're inside. It is much easier now it is summer and vests are a thing of the past for the time being! The other cute thing that I must note down is that you call your t-shirt your dress; this must stem from us instructing you to get dressed! 

You are also a bit of a joker and quite often have alarmed me with the insistence that you have wobbly teeth. Talk about freaking me out because why would they be wobbly so young?! I think you can't wait to be as big as Xander! 

At four and a half your favourite colour is red. It was green for a while, and blue. But at the moment it is very firmly red. Your favourite clothes are your star trousers or your star shorts. You love your red summer star shoes. You still love PJ Masks and Owlette, you love Dragons, especially Stormfly and Astrid (from How to Train Your Dragon) and you love Lego Mini Figures. Your favourite mini figures are the ones you have named 'Rosie' and your brand new Super Girl mini-fig.  Some aspects of your interests right now are so clearly being led by your big brother but you're also finding your own favourites within those shared interests; different favourite dragons, different favourite mini-figs to Xander. 

And now the months are going to whiz by to you being five. I can't believe it is almost time for you to be in big school all day, just like Xander! 

Have a great time being four and a half my Small one, we love you completely beautiful middle boy. 

Mummy and Daddy xXx 

It sounds absurd, I know. Because this time of year isn't a surprise. Hardly, I long know it is coming. But somehow the effect it has still seems to take me by surprise year after year. 

When I'm left wondering why I feel so restless, so unsettled. Why I feel like I'm not breathing quite properly or why I feel like I'm running on a nervous anxious energy. 

Then it finally dawns on me. 

I feel like I do 'simply' because it is June. 

Feeling restless and not really knowing what to do with myself. Today finding myself cleaning kitchen sinks and clearing out kitchen sink cupboards because I needed to find something to do this morning.  Currently looking at the living room and knowing before the day is out I'll have attacked that too. While also feeling unnecessarily anxious about the garden and knowing I won't settle about it until I've dug and weeded and painted and whatever else that I know is of no consequence really whether it happens or not. But it is in my head that it needs to be done. Some sort of grief and anxiety triggered bizzare nesting episode. 

Because chaos in my house this time of year just makes me, makes it, worse. 

It is June and all those dates are coming. When all the "if only's" and "what if's" feel more heightened that ever. When I'm left wondering if the outcome would have been different if the dice had rolled the other way on any of those days. 

If instead of stopping a threatened premature labour in its tracks on the 6th she had been born prematurely anyway and maybe survived it.

If instead of going to bed falsely reassured by a stupid heart monitor. I had gone to the hospital on the night of the 15th. Maybe they could've saved her before she died sometime in those early hours of the 16th. 

Maybe. 

But there was no instead.

So here we are. Another June. Eight years on. Re-living it all again. 

Waiting for the all important day of the year I can make it all about her, the 21st.  

Last night I ordered the rest of the unicorn bits for her planned unicorn themed 8th birthday. Today I've been to the florist and ordered her pink and purple floral arrangement. Soon I will start preparing unicorn B's and pebbles and sort out all the other pre-birthday to do bits. For my oldest child that isn't even here.  While at the same time buying the presents and early preparations for my youngest child for next months birthday who is. 

Sometimes it seems like an absolute circus. 

And I know it will pass, I know relief will sweep over me as soon as July arrives. 

But we're still here. The never-ending June 2010. 

Today has been a little of those days. "Something" happening usually results in little wobbles from me. I don't know why everything always has to feel like a big deal. Where a hospital appointment made my impatience bubble over with the children and me over-react at the state of the playroom this morning. Because when I'm nervous, anxious and feeling this way mess is a trigger. Chaos around me just makes me feel more chaotic on the inside.  I was swinging between worrying I was about  to waste the Doctors time verses worrying that there was the off-chance something sinister would be discovered. Worrying that I was imagining this post-section pain and it was all in my head and was going to look like a hypochondriac fool. 

As it is, the pain of intermittent severity is likely adhesion's (a risk of multiple surgeries) and there isn't a lot to be done as the land lies right now. The Dr was pretty non-plussed about it. Not dismissive, but not encouraging either, wanting to adopt a 'more healing time' and 'wait and see' approach. They've taken swabs, will do bloods and will probably order a CT scan in a few months at my follow up to see how wide-spread the adhesion's are and rule out all other possibilities. But assuming it is adhesion's, because it is in his opinion, I will just have to live with the days when its bad, because unless it gets to the point where is it impeding all of my daily activities, going back in to fix will likely make things worse.

And they don't impede my daily activities. They are there; sitting here now I'm aware of something down there in my scar area, but I can get on with it as it is; mostly I'm just aware of a dull sensation on the right side underneath my scar. What I can't do is maintain a bent position without pain, e.g. changing a nappy stood up in certain positions, bending over to put coats on children, or fussing for something under the pram etc, without straightening back up with tugging pain. I can't crouch without pain,  I can't bend to floor and back up without pain, lots of heavy lifting like the pram multiple times starts to prolong an ache quickly, writing at my desk in work and then sitting up straight, or sitting to standing is often met with a sharp shooting pain and a wince from me. Fairly momentary but enough to briefly take a breath from me. After a busy day, a long day out, I'm usually hurting with all movement and needing some painkillers for the sensation in the evening. Its just become the new normal. The pain aspect is mostly linked to certain movements. But it is not so chronic that is impedes on my wider life.   I kind of knew this would be the result of the appointment. Which I think is why I think I felt those anxious racing chest feelings this morning. Maybe I am wasting time and should just be getting on with it. But I also wanted to know if this is as good as third section recovery gets. It seems it might be.

But these last few weeks there have been a few fleeting moments of anxiety again and the last few days I've been thinking about my anxiety issues these last eight years. Certainly exacerbated by my daughter dying but much longer too if I'm honest. Thinking about the triggers, the symptoms, my reactions. Trying to pin-point the never ending battle between identifying what is just normal for everyone, triggered by grief and life-altering trauma for me, or a wider mental health issue; you know my blurry line between grief and depression. 

It took me a long time to only recently realise that some of my bad mood days are a product of my anxiety. To recognise the difference between an every day or PMT kind of bad mood day and an anxiety triggered 'bad mood' day. The difference between just feeling grumpy and impatient or off against all my reactions being triggered by a panic rising inside me. Sometimes my bad mood isn't really a bad mood at all. It is my chest racing while I try to control myself and calm my shit down. 

My anxiety is like a little devil on my shoulder telling me I'm not good enough, highlighting my flaws and believing in the worst version of myself. I bet there are lots of people who often feel the same, but have different reactions or reasons, or different triggers. 

It is always worrying about tomorrow, or next week, or next year, or ten years. It is struggling to just be. 

It is carrying the intrusive thoughts that can so easily take hold on a bad day. The ones where I imagine or visualise Belle in the ground. The ones where I imagine all the ways the boys could be taken from me. The ones where a child death report on the news puts my babies in that situation quite vividly in my mind. Imagining the boys funerals and all the little intricate details I would want them to have. Thinking how we could alter headstones.

It is checking they are breathing every night before I get into bed. It is being almost obsessive about it. It is being irrationally frightened if they sleep past their normal time in the morning. It is being so genuinely terrified another of my babies could die. 

It is being ridiculously fearful for the dangerous career choices they might make one day when they're still only 6 and 4 and 1. It is becoming tearful if I allow myself to think of it for too long even now when they're still only 6 and 4 and 1. It is knowing how ridiculous that sounds. It is getting irrationally angry when the RAF mistakenly invited my 6 year old to a posh dinner a few weeks back.  (Upon investigation with the RAF, apparently an Alexander Morgan RAF veteran lived at this address once upon a time - what a random and scary co-incidence!) 

It is being fearful of the lads holidays they will undoubtedly go on in their late teens and twenties and I think of all the drunken fallen to their deaths from balconies stories.  

It is the over-reacting when we are running late. Which is frequently these days. This is probably my worst and most frequent offender recently. My heart racing and chest panicky. Often needing to give myself a good talking too. It is an explosion of losing control and being snappy and horrible to the children when we start to run late sometimes because I dread the reaction of whoever or whatever we are late for. It is having to tell myself it doesn't really matter again and again. 

It is becoming ridiculously worked up when something is lost or just temporarily missing. Or just simply not knowing where something is. Something as tiny as a puzzle piece, or one of the toy cars, or not remember where I put my bracelet when I took it off. It is leaving the house worrying about something that is so inconsequential or getting out of bed to find something because I can't rest until I know where something is. 

It is over-analysing every single little decision all of the time.  Even silly decisions, like which colour of something to buy. It is frequently changing my mind and then changing it back again. It is being riddled with doubt.

It is never trusting my own decision making with the boys health and visiting the GP far more often than needed. It is feeling guilty for going to the GP again. It is being constantly self-reminded that I feel responsible for Belle's death because of a poor decision so I struggle to trust myself when the boys are ill. 

It is feeling self-conscious, huge, ugly, physically self-loathing and not recognising myself at all some days. It is having no idea what to wear some days. It is worrying too much about the numbers on the scales even when I'm telling myself "I am what I am and what I am needs no excuses" It is giving myself the pep-talk that this body grew and birthed four babies but frequently feeling self-conscious anyway. 

It is having an unhealthy relationship with food that is never consistent. In my teens I was one end of the scale and currently (Easter Eggs not helping) I'm at the other end. Feeling completely off the wagon which just further feeds into feeling self-conscious. 

It is finding faults and self-berating that I would never find in others. Unreasonably blaming myself when something goes wrong. 

It is finding some social situations sometimes an ordeal.

It is sometimes finding the most random of places an ordeal. An environmental grief trigger that hits you out of the blue and sends you spiraling.

It is irrationally feeling on the peripherals of friendship groups or even a tolerated presence. It is worrying if friendships are reciprocated. It is wondering if I'm really liked or really fit in. It is worrying if everyone is sick of me and my dead daughter grief. It is worrying why people invite me places. It is worrying that I try too hard with people. That I don't try hard enough with people. It is worrying that I'm too needy. 

It is worrying about my boys friendships and that they will feel / do feel like they have special friends too. It is asking their teachers for reassurance about their friendships at parents meeting. 

It is feeling crap at my job when children's futures depend on me not being crap at my job. It is feeling like a crap wife, mother, daughter, friend. It is feeling a complete lack of self-confidence sometimes. 

It is feeling spread too thinly. It is feeling overwhelmed by everything and anything.

It is not being able to remotely cope with certain days or dates of the year. 

It is dreading June and the inevitable PSTD that will come around again. It is the living with trauma. It is the emotions that start to build up as early as now every year. Just last week I felt tearful with relief that I'm able to have Belle's birthday off again this year in lieu of attending a training day on my day off and today I came over all tearful thinking about her birthday and what to plan this year in the car on the way to the hospital. 

It is frequently thinking of June 2010 and how I could've, should've, played it differently. How my awful decision making might have had a different outcome had I made a different decision that night. It is constantly imagining a life where Belle lived.

It is the living with guilt. It is all the What If's. 

It is being a bitch to my family when a big event is coming up, like trying to prepare for the holiday or even just a day out.  Link back to feeling easily overwhelmed.

It is feeling obsessed with the organising. It is needing a plan. It is struggling when the plan needs an alteration. It is struggling to maintain calm when times go all askew. Link back to running late triggers. It is that panic. 

It is appearing like I have it altogether on the outside when I feel like a meltdown might be coming on the inside. It is like feeling a fraud when people tell you you're a great mother but you don't feel it. 

It is about having one persona for the world and sometimes another behind closed doors. It is the sheer exhaustion sometimes of holding it altogether. 

It is wondering what damage my grief or any of these awful anxiety reactions will have been done to the boys by the time they are grown. It is worrying they will only remember when Mummy was grumpy, or shouty, or not being fun. It is worrying their childhoods are not happy enough. It is worrying Zachy is already showing similar anxious traits to his mother. Hereditary? Nature? Nuture? 

It is knowing I'm unreasonable sometimes but somehow not being able to stop my behaviour and feeling out of control. It is watching myself treat the boys appallingly sometimes like an out of body experience and wondering who that mother is.  

It is wondering why Jon or the boys love me at all sometimes. It is worrying one day they will all leave me.

It is always always trying to do better. It is trying to be self-aware. Trying to react in a better way the next time. But it is sometimes failing miserably. 

It is trying to control it when sometimes it just can't be controlled. It is so much more than what I can possibly think to list. 

It is just part of me, I guess. For better or worse. There. 

It sometimes feels like the devil on my shoulder goes through the list and decides which one to pick at today. It isn't all of these things all of the time. It isn't even all of these things all at once.  

It is knowing despite it all that many of these thoughts, feelings, and whatever else, are only really in my head and only on a bad day and not a true perception of anything at all. Today is a good day and I can see beyond the fleeting anxiety feelings this morning. It is knowing when it is "normal" anxiety and "I'm having a bit of a downward spiral at the moment" anxiety. 

It is knowing to keep listening to the reassurance from friends and family and believe the best version of myself. It is feeling ridiculously grateful for every nice thing someone says about me or to me even when I'm not always in a place to believe them. It is getting through the other side of grief and anxiety collisions (click to open) again and again and again. 

It is still figuring out what defines me. 

Can you believe Belle will be eight this year? 

Eight years and some days I still feel no more put back together again.