My first (volunteer) parkrun

For only the third time this year, I wasn’t stood on the start line of a parkrun at 9am on Saturday morning. With my first 10k on tomorrow morning, I didn’t want to push myself too much and risk having tired legs. But instead of taking it easy and watching back to back Disney films with the boys in our pyjamas, as any normal person would, I still decided to head on over to Burnley parkrun, to help marshal the event.

IMG_0667Typically disorganised as ever, I didn’t get the boys up and dressed and dropped off at my mums in time to make the volunteers briefing at 8.45am. Instead I turned up just as the running latecomers were speeding up the avenue to the start. A few nice lady marshals took me under their wing and suggested I head on over to one particular part of the course which was free. I grabbed a vest and headed off to get there before the first runners arrived.

From my vantage point I could see the huge colourful crowd of 300+ runners all gathered in front of Towneley Hall. It was a pretty amazing sight to see them all suddenly mobilise and set off from a distance. My spot was about 500m into the run so I didn’t have too long to wait before the front runners came thundering past.

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Crowd at the start line through the trees

Before sitting down to write this, I had a look on the volunteer page and it listed all the different roles. It says:

‘Marshals guide and encourage the runners around the course warning them of any obstacles or hazards, as well as ensuring that other park users are aware of the run. They are also the eyes and ears of the run director out on the course. Marshals perform a crucial function; if there aren’t enough marshals then the event can’t go ahead. So if you’re running and see them out on the course, please say thanks (particularly if it’s wet, windy or cold) and always follow their advice. They’ll most likely be wearing high vis – so they should be easy to spot.

Well there weren’t any hazards near my area, but once I got over the ‘I feel a bit silly stood here on my own clapping’ feeling, I like to think I did a good job of cheering and encouraging the runners on. My most useful moment was probably relieving one of the runners with a dog from a small plastic bag full of … well I’m sure you can guess. She looked pretty happy not to have to carry it around for another 4.5km!

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Long line of runners

It was interesting seeing the huge variety of runners and I still marvel at what an amazing event is. From the clearly talented runners finishing in under 20 minutes to those struggling at the back but persevering with each and every step. From the tiny dots only 5 years old to the more senior runners of varying speeds and abilities.

After seeing the last runner past my post, I ran back to the finish line to try and catch as many as possible coming through. By then I had no worries about clapping and cheering them on and stayed until the last runners came through.

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If it wasn’t enough to received a lot of smiles back and a hefty number of ‘thank you’s’ from the runners taking part today, I even got a thank you text message instead of my usual run time and position. I had a great morning and it only took an hour or so of my time. Although I am concentrating at getting fitter and better at running myself (with parkrun’s help) I hope I can give up a few more Saturday mornings to help out.

So now I am just preparing for tomorrow. All my kit is laid out ready. I’m just hoping that the aches and pains in my ankle and knees are just psychosomatic seeing as they have just appeared in the last 24 hours!! Wish me luck!

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It’s good to talk!

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We don’t talk about Ewan a lot. That sounds pretty silly doesn’t it? Saying that on a blog which is (in essence) about him. But writing is different to talking,

What I mean is, whilst talking about him is not a taboo subject, it’s not something I do every day, or even every week. It’s not because we’ve forgotten about him. It’s just not something that comes up in day-to-day conversation. Current conversations now revolve around how long did Jude sleep for his daytime nap, or where has Captain America’s shield gone? (Answers, usually about an hour and a hour, two if we are lucky, and no idea – it’s been missing for weeks!). You get my drift.

That’s not to say we don’t think about him. We see his hand and footprint every morning and he is always in our thoughts.

The past couple of weeks have been a bit different.

A couple of weeks ago I was asked to talk about the SANDS charity at my mum and dad’s church. Every year in May, the congregation gather together one Sunday morning before the service and have breakfast together. At the end there is a collection for charity which changes each year. In 2011, the year Ewan died, they chose SANDS as the recipient and raised £260 in donations.

Five years on, I was incredibly touched to be told that they had again chosen SANDS. But this time I was asked I would go and speak about the work of the charity and about why it was of such importance. I have spoken in public about Ewan, but not for some time. I wanted to use the opportunity to explain how the work SANDS has done over the last 38 years made a real impact on Adam and I when Ewan was born. Instead of him being taken away from us, we were able to spend time with him, take photos and make memories. It sounds so simple, but parents of stillborn babies 20+ years ago were not afforded the same treatment.

The generosity of the congregation raised £311. A huge thank you to Bethesda Street United Reformed Church in Burnley.

Last week I met up with our Communications Officer at work. Each year a group of staff take part in the Great Manchester Run and raise money for charity. Those who run get to put forward the charity and choose.  Figuring I had nothing to lose, I suggested SANDS , and was delighted when it was chosen by my co-workers/runners.

I offered to talk about my own experiences with Becky so that she could put together an article. The result is the link below. I think she made a pretty good job of it!

http://www.nelson.ac.uk/adults-news/ncc-team-prepare-charity-run-support-brave-colleague/

Last time I looked, the College Justgiving page stands at £155 – I’m hopeful for a lot more!

I think some people might think that talking about Ewan is something I don’t want to do, for fear of me getting upset. Five years ago, that would have been the case, but now, with the benefit of time and healing, I can talk about him and just be …. normal. I like to talk about him, because he is our son, a part of our family. I like to talk about SANDS because it focusses me to be positive about our experience, because without their tireless campaigning and education, it could have been so much worse. And I don’t get upset because our lives are filled with so much joy. Just look at the two monkeys below and you will see why!

If you ever want to ask me about Ewan, please do. I will be happy to share, because  as Bob Hoskins once said … ‘It’s good to talk’

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My first holiday Parkrun

With my first 10k race (the Great Manchester Run) taking place in 6 weeks, having a rest from training isn’t an option whilst on holiday. So this morning I took the opportunity to be a real Parkrun tourist and turned up to Penrith Parkrun bright and early. As well as it being my first holiday Parkrun, it was also the first Parkrun of the year where I didn’t have a jacket (well hello sun!) and also the first time I wore my new Parkrun wristband, an early birthday present from Adam.

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My parkrun and Centre Parcs wristbands

One beauty of Parkrun is that with it taking place in 350+ locations around the UK, if you are away from home and want to run, it’s is likely there will be somewhere nearby. It’s a great opportunity to compare different courses and discover new places. Penrith Parkrun is in a truly enviable location. At one point I was running towards the dramatic (still) snow capped peaks of the northern Lake District. In the opposite direction I could see the sparkling river Eamont in front of the Appleby fells. And then hidden behind the busy A66, the crumbling tops of Brougham Castle. Pretty spectacular really.

Snowcapped Lakeland Fells

Snowcapped Lakeland Fells

As mentioned earlier, it was the first time this year that I ran without a jacket. In short sleeves no less. That felt like a cause for celebration in itself. The sun was really strong, I had to remind myself that it wasn’t July. It’s the excuse I’ve given myself that I didn’t run as fast as I’d hoped. When I first turned up, I thought there might be a good chance I would beat my PB because the course was so flat. The sun beat me (and probably also because I hadn’t drunk enough water!)

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Hot but happy!

Here’s hoping the good weather continues for the rest of the week. We have embarked on our first Centre Parcs adventure, so maybe I’ll write about our experience as CP virgins. It’s hard not to be relaxed when this was my view writing earlier (it helped that one child was napping and the other conked out watching the Little Mermaid after a busy morning at the adventure playground and pool!)

Thoroughly relaxing view

Thoroughly relaxing view

I think I’ve earned a bit of a relax after my morning workout.

If you want to read more about my running and fundraising goals this year, take a look at some of my previous blogs.

Getting my Great North Run place

The Great North Run Idea

The Importance of SANDS

I am raising money for SANDS in memory of our angel, Ewan. If you are able to make a contribution, however big or small, please visit my justgiving page www.justgiving.com/running4ewan.

Due Date

A mother should never dread the due date of her baby. She might be worried or nervous, but in most cases she will be buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Not so the mother who loses her baby before the due date arrives.

We knew Ewan had died 8 weeks before his due date. I’ve written before about one clear memory I have of that morning when I went to get some petrol. As I was filling up, I remember thinking that ‘in 8 weeks our baby might be here, in 10 weeks it probably, most definitely will be here’. Not to be.

Very early on, I knew that we had to do something on Ewan’s due date. Whilst I know that very few babies arrive on their actual due date (it’s something like 4%), I knew that the day would mark a very important milestone. I just knew that I couldn’t spend the day sitting at home, watching the hours pass and wondering what might have been.

So Adam and I made plans on how we would spend 11th March. I have written already about our love of Scotland. At that time we had recently discovered the West Coast Highlands and Islands and so decided to head up to the Isle of Skye. If you look on a map, Skye is pretty far north. It’s about a 4 hour drive north of Glasgow, and that’s just to the southern tip across the Skye road bridge. I booked a cottage on the northern tip, a place called Uig, another hours drive. Looking at it now, it seems as though I was trying to get as far away from home as possible. That thought didn’t really cross my mind at the time. We just knew that Skye would be a beautiful place to escape to.

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We split the journey up and stopped a night at a beautiful B & B at the southern tip of Loch Lomond. The following morning was the 11th March. We looked onwards and upwards. We had a weekend of amazing and wild scenery to look forward to.

The roads skirting along the length of Loch Lomond, onto the high ground of Rannoch Moor, through Glen Coe, past Ben Nevis and up to Skye give you simply spectacular views. They are a thousand times worth the journey to get that far north. There was still plenty of snow on a lot of the high ground after that particularly long and cold winter, which extended onto the mountains of Skye. The scenery was simply stunning. I’d like to think my photographs do it justice, but it doesn’t!

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On Skye, we eventually found our tiny cottage, a former Granary, and settled in. Out of the three nights, we had two blazing sunsets over the sea, looking out across the Little Minch towards the Outer Hebrides. I love the photograph Adam took of me smiling with my head out of the window. Looking out at the sunsets brought real calmness and peace. On the day that could have been one of the hardest tests, I am happy.

31 87The next day brought cold, but fine weather. We threw our warm gear on and headed to the Old Man of Storr, Staffin and Kilt Rock. We did quite a bit of walking and in the afternoon I started to get tired as we were heading up to a summit for more spectacular views. I was frustrated with myself, even though Adam kept reminding me that it wasn’t 8 weeks since I had given birth and my body was still recovering. I reluctantly agreed to turn back (why is he always right??).

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The rain for which the West Coast is famous for, joined us on the Sunday. Although it was tempting to stay tucked up indoors, we braved the elements and drove to the Waternish peninsula to go to the beach! I loved watching the wind whipping the water off the waves. Later that night we huddled up and listened to a wild storm raging around us outside.

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With heavy hearts we packed up to go home and back to reality. It was only a short trip but we came back a little more energised and with the ability to carry on facing the difficult challenges life was throwing at us. We didn’t forget about Ewan whilst we were in Scotland, we took him with us and continued to talk about what had happened and how we felt. But the trip gave us an excuse to ‘do’ something and enjoy ourselves. Smile, laugh and be silly without feeling guilty. Be normal. Start healing.

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How do I feel now on the 11th March? It’s funny. It’s actually not a day that I usually think or worry about. January is a huge focus for us as this was when Ewan was born. Being perfectly honest, when I thought about writing this post, I had to double check whether his due date was the 11th or 13th.  Most importantly though, it is now my niece’s birthday. She is 3 today (Happy Birthday Emma – see you tomorrow!). It’s quite fitting that we can now celebrate this day, laughing and smiling as we should. And I like to think that Ewan will be celebrating with us too.

 

I’m In!!!!

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An excuse to get some new running shoes!!

Well if you like my Facebook page then you can guess what this post is about. I can’t say it more simply that I GOT IN! Yes, I’ve finally got confirmation that I have a charity place to do the Great North Run in September. Crucially, the charity place is for SANDS.

I’m not being overdramatic when I say that I was devastated not to get a place through the ballot. I really was. I’ve been running regularly since the start of the year (well at least once a week) and just assumed I would get in. On the day the results of the ballot were emailed out, at least 5 people I knew were celebrating on Facebook because they’d been successful. I wanted to be so pleased for them, especially as most said they wanted to run for SANDS too.

I hoped SANDS would have some places, but also knew that they wouldn’t have many. I sent my application off along with a few begging emails. One of my friends (who got a ballot place) emailed in support saying she’d been planning to run with me. Another friend said that I could have their place if I didn’t get one through SANDS (how lovely).

I really was worried I wouldn’t get a place. And I really didn’t want to contemplate what would happen if I was unsuccessful. As much as I wanted to run, I didn’t want to run for anyone else other than SANDS. The charity is more important than the run.

Now I don’t need to worry about getting in. I just need to worry about making sure I train enough!! I know I can run 13.1 miles. I’ve done it 3 times before, so that does help. Not that it makes the training any easier mind. My regular Saturday Parkrunning will give me a solid foundation but I now need to make time to get out during the week. Bring on the lighter nights!

So I’m sorry that now I’ll be harping on about this for the next few months. Hopefully you will enjoy tracking my progress (and not be too bored with it!). Who knows? Maybe you’ll even be inspired to get those dusty running shoes out from under your bed and sign up for a 5 or 10k yourself. And even better, raise money for SANDS.

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If you are interested in my Great North Run journey, you might want to read my first declaration of intent – Running for Ewan

If you want to take up running and don’t know where to start, why not look at Parkrun – I’m hooked. Read more about it in 8 Reasons to Love Parkrun and My First Parkrun

A tough day for some

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Love it or loathe it, you can’t escape the fact that tomorrow is Mother’s Day in the UK. It will be my sixth Mother’s Day as a mother, but I have only spent five with children. Having experienced the raw pain of losing a child, I now have a real understanding of what Mother’s Day means, to me anyway. In very simple terms, I can best describe it as appreciative. Appreciative of the fact that I was given another opportunity, two opportunities in fact, to be a mother.

That sounds kind of contradictory. One of the hardest thing about spending 32 weeks creating a life, for it then to end so abruptly is that you so desperately feel like a mother, you ARE a mother, but you don’t have a baby in your arms.

And when Mother’s Day comes along just over 10 weeks after you have lost that baby, it just feels like a slap in the face. It’s everywhere. On television, radio, in almost every shop and store possible. Inescapable. I actually can’t remember much about that first Mother’s Day, only that I woke up feeling terrible and wanting to hide in bed all day. Quite early in the day, I received a text message from a friend who whose mum had died a few years before. I don’t recall the exact words, but it was a message of understanding and awareness of how I might be feeling.

Growing up we never really got caught up in the commercialism of Mother’s Day (although I am sure that is something that has snowballed in the last decade). My brothers and I would attempt to do something nice for our mum. I know that mum still has a card one of my brothers made, with a poem he wrote. A rhyme something along the lines of ‘have a cup of tea whilst you relax on the settee’. I remember writing a breakfast menu with about 10 different toast shapes she could choose from. I think she opted for heart shaped!

Mum always used to (and still does) say that we didn’t need to get anything or make a fuss. She would much rather we do something spontaneous on another day in the year, rather than buy something when retailers dictated. Unfortunately on one occasion in my teenage years, I took it a bit too far by not even getting a card or acknowledging the day existed. Not my best hour! I’m hoping I’ve made up for it since!

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When I wake up tomorrow, I will be thinking about a few things. How happy, lucky, fortunate and blessed I feel to have my two rainbows, crawling over me, thrusting pirate swords and rattles in my face. My wonderful handmade cards from nursery already have pride of place in the living room. Anything else will be a bonus. Most importantly we will spend the day as a family, whether that’s going to the park or watching a DVD.

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But I will be thinking of all those mothers who don’t have noise and chaos, dribble and mess. Of those mothers who have lost babies and children. Also of those women who don’t have children and may never have. For whom Mother’s Day is one day they wish they didn’t have to endure.

And the people out there without their mothers. Those who no longer have the luxury of deciding whether to buy chocolates, wine, flowers or a pamper day. Or the even simpler luxury of putting their arms round them for a hug. On this note, I go back to word appreciative, this time of my own mum. How lucky I am to have her with me, and how I should be telling her more and more how amazing she is (Mum, I love you!).

Above all, I will think about my angel. He may not be with me in person to celebrate Mother’s Day, but I will forever celebrate being his mother in my heart.

 

The Great North Run 2016 – The Story So Far

gnr-largeLast September, I made rather a bold statement. In print, here on this blog. I said that I was planning to run 13.1 miles to raise money for Sands, the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Society, a charity that couldn’t be any closer to my heart. I threw down the gauntlet for friends (and strangers) to join and a few brave souls picked it up.

I thought the hardest thing would be getting going with the training. To begin with it was. I was juggling going back to work after maternity leave with all the fun and chaos of Christmas. As the New Year passed, I made an unspoken resolution to get back on it. So far I’ve been pleased with my progress. Saturday mornings have seen me up for 9am to take part in every parkrun of 2016, getting a Personal Best at my usual Burnley run and attempting the much more difficult Pendle run. I’ve managed to also to get our at least once, sometimes twice during the week too.

Wettest Parkrun of the year (so far)

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I’ve honestly felt as though I’ve had something driving me this time around. When I’ve run up one of the (many) steep hills near home, or when I was pushing for my PB, at the time I was starting to doubt my ability, I reminded myself why I was there in the first place. I’m not running to lose weight, or to get fitter (albeit valid reasons and actually ones I should adopt too!), I am running for my angel.

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My new Sands training t-shirt

So then came the bombshell. The results of the ballot were emailed out this week. I didn’t get a place. Okaaaaaaay! That wasn’t part of the plan. I’ve been successful in the ballot before. In fact I think I have got every place all three times. I stupidly didn’t think about the prospect of being unsuccessful.

I got in touch with Sands almost straight away to ask about a charity place. Due to the high profile nature of the event (it is the largest half marathon in the world!), understandably places aren’t given straight away to anyone who asks for one. There are 50,000+ participants. Most of them running for charity. I’ve sent off my application for one of their golden bond places. I’ve no idea how many places they do have, but given they are only a small charity, I am hoping for my own selfish reasons that they aren’t over subscribed.  

I have to wait until next month to find out. It’s going to be a loooong month of nibbling finger nails. I thought it might be hard getting up on Saturday to be motivated to run. But it’s starting to become habit now and hopefully if I do get that place, I won’t have lost momentum.

I don’t want to consider the possibility of not getting that place. Not yet. Mainly because I don’t really want to run for anyone else other than Sands. If there are other charity places available, I can’t see myself going for them. With a heavy heart I’ll have to lead the cheerleading for all my wonderful friends who were lucky enough to get places and will run for Sands. I just really wish I can join them. I can’t describe how gutted I will be if I can’t do this.

Keep everything crossed for me. Legs, arms, fingers and toes.

I will keep you posted.

 

Back to Another Place

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Dare I ask if winter is behind us? At least all that relentless rain (pretty please!) Today has been the kind of day that half term dreams are made of. Sunshine and blue skies. Only the temperature gave away the fact that we are still in February. We all wrapped up well and headed out to the place I wrote about a few weeks ago; Crosby Beach in Liverpool. A memorable place we visited just after Ewan died.

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This was Jude’s first visit. We brought Dylan when he had only been walking a few weeks. I’d forgotten how great it is for children. Obviously as well as the beach there is a huge park, outdoor gym equipment, a lake (perfect for throwing stones) and a bistro/bar.

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Three years ago, the newly toddling Dylan absolutely loved the open space and at the time my dreams of a relaxed family picnic were dashed as he just wouldn’t keep still. Jude isn’t walking yet, although I don’t think it will be too long. He’s at that stage where if he’s in the pram, it needs to be constantly moving. Luckily there is a long promenade at Crosby beach, plus the sand is really firm so easy to push the pram on.

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Dylan didn’t pay too much attention to the statues (again) and instead concentrated all his effort on cracking shells with a big stick. 4 year old heaven!! It would have kept him entertained for a good couple of hours I imagine, but Jude was getting hungry and a bit cold because despite the sun, there was a biting wind.

I managed to steal the stick from Dylan long enough to get my (now) obligatory beach shot of my angel and two rainbows.

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We treated ourselves to lunch in the bistro. I had contemplated a picnic but decided it would just be too cold for the boys. It was great to have an hour to warm up giving us the energy to go back out in the cold for round two in the park.

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I love this place and couldn’t help but take photo after photo. We definitely need to come back in the summer, when the temperature is warmer and hopefully Jude will be running up and down, shunning my lovingly prepared sandwiches!

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So maybe I’m being a bit too optimistic in thinking the rain has ended, especially having looked at Wednesday’s forecast! At least I can revel in this wonderful day out today with my beautiful family. Five years ago Adam and I came on our own, encouraged by the sun, starting to heal and sowing some seeds of happiness. Those seeds have flourished and are now smiling and laughing with each other, and at us every day. Absolute bliss!

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Truly loving brothers

Another Place

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I don’t need Facebook or Timehop to tell me what I was doing 5 years ago today. Adam and I went to Crosby Beach in Liverpool for the day. I’m not 100% sure what prompted us to go as it was the first time we had visited it together. It was a beautiful (but cold) sunny day and we wanted to get out and blow away the cobwebs. Get some fresh air and feel the sun on our faces.

In the car on the way, I received a text message from one of my close friends. She told me of the arrival of their third baby, William. I couldn’t help but well up. I was so happy for her, but it just brought back those memories of what could have been. It was hard, probably because it was our first experience of someone we knew welcoming a baby into the world, after our baby was no longer with us. Because it is William’s 5th birthday today, that is how I remember.

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Anyone who has been to Crosby will know that there is a permanent art installation by Anthony Gormley called Another Place. There are 100 cast iron figures embedded into the sand, looking out to sea. It really is an impressive sight, made even better on a crisp, clear day January with the low afternoon sun.

I wanted to share our day out, partly because it is a day where I have some good memories. I love to look back on the photographs. During a difficult time it feels like the day represented the first shoots of recovery. A day where we decided that we needed to participate in the world rather than existing in our own little bubble. It did us the world of good to get out there. I wonder now if we chose Crosby knowing the likelihood of seeing someone we knew would be very slim (it is over 50 miles from where we live). We could attempt to start socialising again, but with a bit of added protection too in that we probably wouldn’t have to talk about our loss.

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We returned a couple of years later with Dylan. He hadn’t long been walking and absolutely loved running up and down the sands (paying very little attention to the statues). Just writing this now makes me want to go again, this time with Jude. Maybe we’ll go in half term if (fingers crossed) we get a nice day. I won’t ever be able to go without thinking about our first visit. But we can continue to create some good memories there with our rainbows, all the time our angel watching over us.

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Five Years

The 17th January comes to a close. For a lot of people across the UK, today has been significant because they were able to enjoy the first real snowfall of the winter.

For Adam and I, it will always be a significant day because carries with it an important anniversary. It is a day were we remember what happened to us back in 2011. Five years ago.

Our lives started down a very different path to the one we have been cruising happily along for some time. We had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of our firstborn. Instead, he was born sleeping. Five years ago.

Every year we aim to celebrate. It gives us a positive focus. It was a bit difficult the first year as we had a five day old Dylan to look after. My mum and dad babysat for an hour or so (making it the first time I had left him) whilst Adam and I went to visit Ewan’s grave. The second year, we both took the day off work and kept Dylan off nursery. We spent the day together and went out for a lovely meal.

The third year followed a similar path. Again we booked the day off to be together as a family. However something slightly bizarre happened. My friend sent me a message to ask if I had checked the results of the local weekly hospice lottery. I had a monthly Direct Debit going out and in about 5 years of taking part had probably won about £25. I didn’t make a habit of checking it regularly.

I looked. I had won the first prize! A random draw, I won the jackpot on Ewan’s third birthday. Surely that’s more than a coincidence? I don’t know why, it just felt as though Ewan was watching over us. And sent us a gift to make us smile on his special day. It felt appropriate to make a donation back to the Hospice and also to Sands.

Last year, I had just finished work the day before for my maternity leave. We had another dusting of snow and took Dylan to the cemetery with his new gardening kit. I took these wonderful photos. He helped us to clear the snow from the grave and arrange the flowers.

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IMG_8663Dylan and I went to the pantomime this afternoon with family. Afterwards Adam collected us with Jude (who was a bit too young for the theatre), and together we all went to visit Ewan. It was getting pretty cold but we wrapped up and picked our way through the snow. Dylan is starting to get quite inquisitive and I wondered if he would start to ask more searching questions. I haven’t yet worked out how we are going to talk to him about his older brother. I’m not sure he is old enough to understand quite yet. Anyway he was quite happy to make holes in the snow with his pick! Jude was just happy to be held.

We went for tea afterwards. Jude who has been fussy with food recently ate his body weight in mashed potato, veggies and turkey and they both enjoyed time together in the play area. I just loved watching them.

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Today hasn’t felt just quite as difficult as previous years. Is this time being a healer? Is it because I now have double trouble to run around after? Yes to both to a certain degree, but I also think that writing this blog for the past 6 months has helped by giving me the opportunity to share my thoughts and feelings about Ewan, about the difficult times, but also the joy that both he and his brothers have given us.

So all it remains for my to say now is Happy Birthday Ewan. We miss you incredibly and there is a part of us that will always be with you. You will always be loved and never forgotten.