I have been very lost for words this year, here goes…
I sit here with Melody's new little sister, a sister who this time last year was no where near in existence.
I say little, of course she's not, not really, the baby is now 6 weeks, a week OLDER than Melody will ever be.
She's having a growth spurt, the growth spurt that could well have helped Melody's recovery.
The growth spurt that she never had the chance to have.
Another sister who will only ever recognise Melody as a headstone or a photo in a frame.
"The girl in the photo, that's my sister" is how Melody will ever be introduced.
I sit here with the thoughts that our family is complete, but not quite; my brain still struggles to know how big our family is, who I tell the truth to.
New people look at me strangely because I have to count in my head how many children I have, not answer straight away.
I lie sometimes.
I have to, because sometimes it’s the feeling of normality I crave. I don't want to be a bereaved mum every day.
To moan about sleepless nights without guilt.
"But one of your babies died."
To say out loud I'd like a break.
"But you should be grateful."
"At least you have healthy children."
I sure do, they don't replace Melody though.
Normality at times is long forgotten.
I used to love The Twilight Saga (I know!), things like Supernatural; now I can barely stomach them.
Before it was easy going things to watch, the romanticism of Twilight, an old fashioned love I guess, even though it should have been impossible. They even had a baby, a baby that was meant to be a monster, that should never have existed, lived.
Our baby, real life baby, had 80% chance of survival, she died. Now I know it’s not real, but I used to enjoy it, now I can't see past it. I miss watching it, the fairy tale ending of eternity.
We used to watch Supernatural after our full days in NICU, we were fans before, but it was something we could take our minds off the fear of our tiny baby fighting, and fought she did.
Only now Supernatural with demon children, heaven and hell, I know it’s fiction but at the same time it’s our reality, children and babies die, we know this far too well, the Supernatural horrors are our reality.
I don't believe in heaven.
I don't believe in hell.
I wish I did, to want to believe, that maybe Melody is out there. I am hoping come next entry I'll have found a belief or a sign, that she is safe and still around us, not cold and alone.
Where am I?
I'm building my life again, to not feel so heavy.
To not let Melody's death continue to define me…
To ignore the judgement of those who don't understand.
That if I want to talk I will.
If I want to cry to remember it’s not a bad thing, it doesn't make me weak.
To feel normal, because I am just like any other mum.
"I have five children, yes I have my hands full with four pairs of loving arms and a heart with arms I can no longer touch."
I am a bereaved mother.
I am Melody's mummy.
And I miss her.
You can read Julz's previous posts for the blog here: