Just a note to thank everyone who stopped by for a chat last week. I’m always a bit worried about joining a new link up but I felt so welcome. What’s more, I discovered some fabulous new blogs. I’ve left myself more time this week to actually leave comments.
So, if we were having coffee, or peppermint hot chocolate in my case, I would ask whether you saw any of the wonderful sunrises we’ve been experiencing recently? I would probably get my phone out and share a couple of the 5,000 odd photos I’ve taken. It’s got to the point now where Freya asks to be held up to the window each day and demands I take a photo. Naturally I love it.
Mark doesn’t really understand my (our) fascination with them but when she was smaller the sunrise become my saviour; proof that the long, lonely nights with a baby I could do nothing to comfort were over. The light and colour also filled me with the energy I needed to get through each day. Now she is older, and our nights are mostly easier, the sunrise feels like a trusted and treasured friend.
If we were having coffee, I would say it’s been another week, another scan. I feel like most of the NHS budget is being spent on me and I can only stress again how grateful I am that I’m being well taken care of. So far I’ve had my eye op, an MRI on my shoulder (no news) and this week it was downwards for a scan on some ovarian cysts – in my case a symptom of endometriosis. The big one seems to have gone or at least shrunk, which means, as they cause me no other problems, we can hopefully just ignore it all.
The strange thing was, I had to go to the maternity department (previously I’ve just gone to ultrasound) and as I sat in the waiting room along with women in varying stages of pregnancy I was really hoping not to see anyone I know. Would they assume I was pregnant again? Would they believe me if I said I wasn’t or think I was just being coy? I sat holding my breath so my tummy looked a bit flatter, just in case.
The last time I was there was when I was pregnant with Freya but it is also the same place I discovered my first pregnancy couldn’t continue and, even though it was five years ago this year, as I sat there that all consuming sadness swirled around me like a fine mist. I thought because I had my happy ending it wouldn’t feel as raw now, especially after all this time, but I’m finding that grief is a funny old thing to deal with. In a way it’s comforting that I can’t and won’t forget him.
So as not to end on a down note, I would ask if you have seen the video of the bride from New Zealand who joined in with a haka at her wedding reception. I’ve cried at it twice already. There is something so emotional about a haka, whether performed for intimatation at the rugby or, as in this case, with passion at a wedding.
And now, if we were having coffee, I’d ask about your week. I really hope it’s been a good one.
I’m joining in with Part-time Monster’s #weekendcoffeeshare.
After The Rain 
That video is amazing, I love the Haka and always enjoy seeing it preformed before Rugby matches. Thank you for linking me to it and all the best with your health.
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Isn’t it? I cry every time. I was lucky enough to see one performed when I was in New Zealand about three feet away from me and it was so emotional (and intimidating). Thank you for the best wishes.
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I know the problems of endometriosis; some my health problems were caused by it. I glad you were able to have 2 children. The grief of your lost child will be with you the rest of life. It will come at unexpected times. I regret that after one of my surgeries I cannot read am author who I like as I go back to that time whenever I try. It helps to know YOU are not alone. The sunrises give us hope for good thi gs to come
.😊😆😸
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Thank you for your lovely words.
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I’m excited to see you sharing over coffee! I hope it won’t be your last time. 🙂
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Thank you. I’m really enjoying writing a different style of post.
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Our grief comes in waves and is healed in layers throughout time, but it never completely goes away. Allow yourself the time and space to be present with it and remember to practice self-care.
I saw the video of the Haka on Facebook earlier this week and cried, too. Absolutely phenomenal, completely beautiful and profound. ❤
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Thank you, Melissa. Layers of grief is a good way of describing it. It sometimes just comes out of nowhere. Glad you also like the haka.
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Losing a pregnancy is a horrible thing and although it gets better with time, the grief is still there. I had a series of miscarriages many, many years ago but when they pop up in my memory, as they do from time to time, the pain and grief is still as fresh as it was more than twenty years ago.
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So sorry for your losses. I think because my mind was on other things I hadn’t really thought about being back there again. Perhaps I should have expected it. In a way it’s nice to know it gets better but doesn’t disappear. I don’t want to forget him. Thank you very much for sharing such kind words.
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A belated welcome to the Weekend Coffee Sharers! Nice to meet you!
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Thank you very much, such a lovely linky 🙂
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Pretty pics. Thanks for sharing. I love peppermint hot chocolate, too. Still recovering from the blizzard we had this weekend, so I’m not writing this weeked, but wanted to stop by. 🙂 ~Tara
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Thank you for stopping by. My brother lives just outside Washington DC and he’s been sending me photos of the snow. It looks crazy, I’ve never seen anything like it. I hope you don’t have to go far.
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Not too far. My driveway’s almost dry now, though, after this morning’s shoveling. YAY! Of course, there are really tall snow piles all around!
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