Gorgeous Pearlie is six months old

I received a lovely message asking for a picture of Pearl. Here she is in all her characterful glory. She is an amazing girl. Full of punch and laughter and she has the softest hands in the world. It's a cliche, but it's true - she's brought joy back into our lives. This little soul, who smiles all day long, has healed our hearts and helped return us to our old selves. Of course, we will never really be those old carefree people who didn't really know about grief and loss. The fact remains, that we will never get to watch Bear, our little boy, grow into the the handsome man I know he would have been. It does help though, having a new life to nuture. And Pearlie is just perfect. I hope this gives some of you some hope. I know I remember always feeling so far away from happiness. That happiness became a notion, and a state of mind, that felt as though it was denied to us. But happiness does come back. And when it returns, you appreciate every last drop of it's brilliance.

Bear's Little Sister

Our darling, precious healthy daughter Pearl Blossom Pullen arrived with a full head of hair on Valentines Day. She has shone light back into our lives.
It is a complicated notion to accept that Pearl is only here because our darling boy was snatched away. We can't imagine life without her, just as we couldn't imagine that Bear would never come home. Thankfully, our days are too filled with feeding and sleep schedules to over think the bigger picture.
She is just perfect. We are totally in love... Photos to follow.

Bear's Day

There's so much to say, and yet it doesn't really need to be said. He would have been one today, our boy. We baked him a cake to mark the occasion. A year is such a strange amount of time. So long in theory, but then it hurtles past you and suddenly we are back here, twelve months on from when he was born.
It's been a heavy week. We didn't know how we'd feel. We've been restless at night and grouchy during the day. Not ideal, but to be expected, I suppose.
The light has come from the bond between us. Strong, resolute, unbreakable, it has got us through 365 days of unchartered, choppy, scary, painful waters. Love is an amazing thing.
Family and friends have played their part too. Thank you everyone, everyone who has ever left a reassuring comment. Friends from childhood, new friends, ones who truly understand, others who don't but you try so hard anyway. We are lucky to have parents who bouy us along, and siblings who care. Bear was born into a wonderful, amazing, inspiring collection of loved ones. If only, he'd known.
We love our son and ache for his life, which was snatched away at such a tragic time. He has changed us, his beautiful faces still looks back at ours from cherished photographs around our home. The outcome - his terribly short life - will never feel just. But we still made that gorgeous boy. And we found some strength today to celebrate that.

Eleven months my darling boy

Yes, we are here, eleven months since those precious four hours when we felt like parents and held you and stroked your wavy black hair. I can't believe we are back in October again. Back, where this time last year, we were so full of optimism, brimming with happiness and constantly washing tiny baby gros. Exactly this date last year, was my last day of work. I walked out, slightly stunned that I was on leave for a year, and made my way into a new life. One that was meant to be so different to what we have endured. It's almost too much to comprehend, how times can change like that. How we didn't know, back then, what we have painfully felt now.
This month is especially confusing because we do have hope, tentative as it is, that life has happiness ahead. There is a little girl growing and kicking and making her presence increasingly known. She isn't aware of the thunderstorm that precedes her. She's just doing her thing, and thanfully, all looks normal and healthy.
So we have another life change ahead (we hope), and so much change to digest, that is leaves me feeling discombobulated. I have very sad moments, next to potentially exciting ones, and my poor tired brain (and heart) don't know which way to turn.
Well, I do know that turning to my darling husband is still, despite everything, as good as life can get. I let him hold me in his arms and I know that everything I have in my soul, he shares in his, and we both feel supported and united and just so.
I have no idea how we will feel on this day next month. What we do know, is that we will sit by Bear's tree and think about those crazy hours when his cheeks looked peachy and we had our son.

The never-ending worry

I didn't know how to follow up the last post. Do I wait again until the end of October, so that I just remember Bear, or do I let people in on the here and now? The journey of worry.
I have found the perfect answer. Another Mummy's words. She lost her son Jacopo last year in her 35th week of pregnancy. One month ago, her precious daughter arrived. Screaming and healthy.
She's commented on my blog over the months, and got in touch again when she saw our news. I, in turn, then clicked back on to her story. It arrived after a couple of difficult days. I cried at every entry. I feel her words. I feel her absolute, constant fear. She's had the perfect outcome, and I want to follow in her joy. She wrote this a couple of months back.

'I feel you growing. I can feel you are getting stronger. Don't give up my love. I don't trust my body but I trust you. You'll let me know if something is wrong, if you don't get enough from me and if you are not fine. I'm listening, any second of my day, any single heartbeat of my heart which rings with yours.'

This is just one of many potent, honest entries. Have a read. It's ok, there's a happy ending. Thank you Jacopo and Bianca's Mummy.



http://thestormandtherainbow.blogspot.com/

And so we're here at ten...

Gosh, this is strange. Ten months since Bear was born and here I am writing another post. I haven't been very good at filling in the monthly blog dots recently. I seem to have fallen into a new habit, whereby, I don't use the blog for anything but to commemorate my little Boy's months since birth.
It wasn't a conscious decision. In part, I think I wanted to take my story, my feelings back inside. At the beginning, and for some time afterwards, I felt that it was right to keep a note and document this journey - however terrible it's been. This journey is still Bear's story and I didn't want the passage of time, to eat up the memories and leave us with even less. I am so pleased, when I sit back and think about it, that I have this amazing journal of Bear's story. It keeps him very much alive to me, and alive to others, some of whom we don't even know - but whom seem to care no less.
In this vain, the blog has been a meeting place for other mothers - and fathers - who have trudged through the same heavy mud of grief, and that makes me feel proud. Proud, that in some small part, I haven't so much as helped, but at least offered them some food for thought.
I have also made a new friend through the blog. She found me here, many months ago, and we have met and bonded, as have our husbands. That has been another positive to come out of all this darn sadness.
I feel as though I'm signing off forever, but I'm not. I suppose though, I am entering a new stage in my Bear story. I am pregnant. Someone asked me whether I'd write about it on Bear's blog. And I said, immediately, of course. It is because of my darling Bear that I am, where I am today, and that means that this pregnancy, will always be a direct result of Bear's life.
I am heading towards the half way mark and have managed to keep things pretty quiet. I still don't feel like swinging from the trees or shouting from the roof tops, but I can't say that this pregnancy doesn't give us some hope back.
At the beginning, it made us sad. It made us think of Bear and remember how we felt last time around. When we didn't know that such terrible things could happen. When we were untouched by grief. A new pregnancy, puts the previous one into perspective and that has been hard.
But we are here, and we are moving forward and for that I am thankful. I hope we have a smooth ride. We are under the best care known to womankind, which helps. Please keep everything crossed for us. It's such a scary journey and I so hope that this time around it ends happily.
People say that Bear is watching over us. But I don't want to burden him with that. I just pray that he can feel our love and that he remains close by, as always.
Don't worry, this isn't the end.... I'm just feeling in a reflective mood.

Nine months

Nine little candles, one for every month that I have lived without my son, Bear.
It's been a higgledy piggeldy month. My brain is in quite a few different places - hence my lack of posts. Even though this is my own private outlet for my Bear, it seems to have become a public place. A place where people can, and do, comment - either on the blog, or in their heads. In the most part, this is always supportive. But sometimes, it makes me feel constrained and judged. And that is why I don't blog. I like to keep some things close.
One this I've learnt to do this month is fall asleep in the knowledge that Bear will be my arms at some point in the night. I know he won't actually be there, but it's a new comfort and I like to think that we are close that way.
Darling one, it has been as long that you've gone, as the time that you lived in my tummy. That is a strange thought. I'm not sure yet if it's comforting, or not.
Either way, I have thought about you lots today. As I do everyday. You are always here with me and your special, special Daddy. We will never let your candle light burn out. We love you deeply. Rest peacefully. Kisses.....