A little update from us….

Over the last few months I have sat down to write this blog post on countless occasions, searching for the words to share how difficult the last year has been whilst struggling with the knowledge that for many, it has been far worse. I’ve spent the entire morning staring at a blank computer screen, just bursting with angst and that nagging sense of worry, wondering where to even begin when I tell you that life feels incredibly tough at the moment, for so many reasons and on so many levels.  And more than that, I’m wondering how to put all of that into words whilst still protecting my children’s privacy, whilst still bearing in mind that the path we walk right now isn’t necessarily our path for the future.

Over the last seven years this blog has been my saviour. Through some of the darkest times of our lives, and so many of the happiest, it has been the place I come to when I need to put down all the thoughts in my head, make sense of the world, or document our most precious moments together. In all my years of therapy, of which there have been many, nothing has helped me in quite the same way that writing this blog has. And although it can often feel like a huge leap of faith in laying bare the secret pages of a diary to faceless strangers to read online, the feedback and support I receive in return has helped me in countless ways. Whether it’s a comment on my posts to offer help or advice, a private message to share a similar experience or related story, or those whom I meet in person who tell me my blog has helped them cope with their own personal battles. It means the world to me to have this shared space to turn to.

It was very easy in those early days to share the highs and lows of family life, to write about the exhaustion of having three babies aged two and under, navigating the trials and tribulations of co-parenting a ten year old son, learning how to be a Mummy to a child I could no longer hold in my arms. It was easy to share light hearted gripes about potty training and the terrible twos, to document our days on outdoor adventures and disaster prone holidays. It was easy to open up my life, and open up my heart, about the trivial moments, the sleep deprived moments and the completely over-whelming moments, to laugh at my failings knowing that deep down, I was doing the very best I could. It was far easier to be an open book when it felt as though we were all reading from the same page.

I guess the bigger my blog has become, and the more our channels have grown, although I am undoubtedly grateful to have made a livelihood doing something I love, it has brought with it a great deal of over-thinking. There are times I go to press publish and catch myself wondering if perhaps I have over-shared a little? Times I sit down to write but am unable to be completely honest for a need to protect those I love. Times I have so much I want to share with you but have to ask myself, would my children want this to be public knowledge in years to come? And I guess that’s where I’m at right now: stuck between a desperate need to connect with other parents and wanting to protect my children on every level. And although my children will always comes first, the truth is, it’s a very lonely place to be.

Over the last couple of years there has been a lot going on in our lives which I have not shared, that I chose not to share. Not to be cryptic or a cry for attention, not to isolate others or for reasons of shame, but purely because one day my children won’t be quite so little anymore and I have no way of knowing where they will draw the line when it comes to their privacy. I’m sure some of you may ask if that’s the case, why share anything at all? And I guess the answer to that would simply be because I want to be completely honest about the fact that, however our lives may appear in our glossy photos and happy moments, there are some really difficult times going on behind closed doors. I guess I want to share with all of you lovely people who have supported our family for all of these years, that, if I’m entirely truthful, I’m struggling right now. I guess I just want to put it out there that I’m in completely unchartered territories when it comes to parenting my child and now, more than ever, I’m looking for a hand to hold.

It’s funny because having been a Mum for almost eighteen years, I genuinely thought I’d cracked it. I’d bypassed the first time mum worries, I’d been through the worst thing imaginable in losing our son, been fortunate enough to have four healthy children, jumped right in at the deep end with three babies in two years and navigated the teenage years with relative ease. I’d mastered the art of juggling my time, my attention, my sanity; I’d become adept at splitting myself in four, learned every trick in the book to get just a moments peace, an early night, a Sunday morning lie-in. If you’d asked me to tell you what each of my children needed at any given time, I was certain I knew the answer. If you’d asked me how my children were feeling, I was certain I knew them better than anyone else on this planet. If you’d asked me if I was confident I was raising happy, healthy children, I was certain there was nothing in this world I couldn’t fix.

Having to accept that this is suddenly no longer the case has been difficult, in fact it has been incredibly triggering in so many ways. On a personal level I have struggled enormously with the incessant hospital appointments and tests, the scans and anxious wait times, the worst case scenarios and the constant uncertainty at every turn. I’ve struggled with those 4am moments where I’ve questioned everything I thought I knew about being a parent, with that gnawing ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach when I wake, with the relentless input from medical professionals who claim to know my child far better than I do. I’ve struggled to accept the truth that sometimes, however much you love and support your child, there are things in life you just can’t fix. And that is utterly heartbreaking.

What I do know, and what I will always know, is that whatever happens going forward, I am still the luckiest Mummy in all the world. Every single day, even on the really tough days, I get out of bed and remind myself that these beautiful children are everything I ever wanted and it is an absolute privilege to watch them grow. Is life hard at times? Absolutely. Do we know what the future holds? How could we possibly. But right now I am trying my hardest to do what’s right for each of them, to protect them, to support them and to accept that although it may feel as though everything has changed, these beautiful children in front of me have not.