It has taken me all of four months to write this. To put 'pen to paper' ... To write these words so I can see them in black and white. But it's only today I can write the date that this will be posted; the date that will mark the next chapter of After Otis.… Continue reading The next chapter
It has been 4 months since I last blogged here. I've been battling with whether to continue writing; wondering whether what I have to say is longer relevant - thinking that this platform is no longer beneficial to anyone; doubting myself. Writing has always been my therapy, more so since Otis died. I have shared… Continue reading These four walls
If you asked me one year ago if I thought I would ever say this again, I'd have probably screamed in your face that it'd never be possible ... but I'm actually quite looking forward to Christmas this year. Last year was our first Christmas without Otis and I cannot begin to explain how empty… Continue reading Healing.
16 months ago now (wow, how time has flown) my little boy was stillborn at 35 weeks gestation. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him, despite the absence of the beat in his heart, how thankful I was to have had him for that time, and I will always remain thankful for… Continue reading The Unwritten
When my little boy was stillborn 15 months ago, I had no idea how I would go on to 'mother' him. I was terrified that the outside world wouldn't perceive me to be a mother to him, because I couldn't do all those things that 'mums do' ... I cannot bathe him, hold him, kiss… Continue reading I found the words you sent to me.
I'm writing this sat in my car at the entrance of the baby garden in my local cemetery. I would be sat inside the bushed walls of the garden, was it not for the typical English weather. Most people I have spoken to about cemeteries - this may seem like an odd conversation topic, but they become… Continue reading Wind, rain, storm, or shine.
There comes a moment when you suddenly realise that this is it. This is it. This is my life. It will be my life, for the rest of my life. It's been a year and it hasn't done that 'thing' that people promised me it would do - it hasn't got better; it hasn't become easier. The… Continue reading The post-play blues.