Showing posts from September, 2017
“I miss you.” These were the words my hubby, Will, and I said to each other through teary eyes with 152 cm of space between us, as we clung to the furthest edges of our queen-sized bed. Because when you fall preggers on your first try, then spend the first four months of your baby’s life fattening her up for (thankfully, a successful) surgery, and then your second healthy salvation baby is born 14 weeks early, the time it takes for you to do anything intimate – passionately kiss, embrace, joke, laugh, cuddle, share, talk – takes a long time. A very, very long time. And for us it had been 4 months, 19 days, and 44 minutes. Not that I ever count the days between any form of intimacy for us, but it had been 4 months, 19 days and 44 minutes since we lost our son, Liam.
When your worst nightmare happens, you’re so destroyed, so grief-stricken, so lost and broken. You can imagine your aversion to anything that could lead to making babies. Kissing, hugging, play…
Every mom has that moment where you go ‘supermom’. You plan meticulously. You have your Excel spreadsheet (Lies! I have a better chance of landing Idris Elba than winning at Excel but you get the gist.) You have your Pinterest affirmations like 'Kick ass, you got this!'. You even go as far as patting yourself on the back for your genius. And then you implement your plan and oh, fuch…sia! You feel like a complete failure (or if you’re like me, feel like a failure most days).
One such occasion was the time I planned a family trip to Thailand. My precious daughter, Lily, is funny, loves painting and music, she’s sweet and chatty, can name eight whales and 10 cats by their ‘breed’ and has taught me the names of trickier shapes than rhombus and octagon. She is also autistic. Though travelling with a special needs kid is no easy feat, it’s definitely more than worth the effort.
I thought I was prepared but oh my, I was as prepared as an air hostess…