A conversation could change a life

At 8pm on Wednesday night I heard my phone ring. I missed it. Seconds later, Anthony's phone rang. As he answered it, it stopped. Moments later my phone rang again. And I knew... there is something wrong. I answered the call only to be met with a voice so distorted by tears and sobs that I could not identify who it actually was. Through the mess of words and tears I heard...

"Aunty Sue has committed suicide"

...Followed closely by heaving sobs and heart breaking tears and concern, a voice and words full of concern about my Ma. My 85 year old Ma, who spends her every waking day taking my Aunty Sue to doctors appointments, to clinic time, to hospital visits. My 85 year old Ma who has never stopped mothering her 57 year old daughter, my 57 year old Aunty.

I rushed out the door and into the car and made the mad dash up to my Ma's house to just be with her. To sit and talk, cry and laugh, plan and organise, deny and accept. My Sister and I both sat with her, all three of us sipping on tea with foggy minds, teary eyes and aching hearts.

The following four days have been emotionally charged, with all sorts of mixed emotions. My Aunty was a very sick woman, in a lot of pain, constant, chronic every day pain. She was also very lonely. So alone. More alone than I care to admit. I feel a sense of relief for her, relief that she doesn't have to be in pain anymore. I feel a sense of understanding, I understand that her life did not have enough quality and perhaps warrants the need to leave. I feel a sense of anger, anger that she could leave my Ma behind feeling like she should have done more. I feel a sense of sadness, sadness that my last words to her were "I'll see you soon", and hers to me "I hope so", but now I never will. I feel a sense of disbelief, why did she want to leave this world in this way. I feel a sense of worry, I worry that her departure from this world was just as painful as her last 10 years. I feel a sense of frustration, frustration that my very last memory of my Aunty is that she gave up.

I want so badly for my Aunty Sue to be in peace, I want for her to have died in peace. The thought of her feeling sick and vomiting, feeling weak and regret, in her very last moments is what keeps me awake at night. I want for her to have fallen asleep, peacefully, for her to have slipped out of this world as perfectly as she slipped into it. I don't believe in God, but I pray to him, that he had enough grace to be able to have given her that.

I like to think of my Aunty now in a better place, in the body that her mind remembers her having, happy, healthy, fit and carefree. I like to think of her in a place full of love and forgiveness. I would like to believe that she is now there with everyone else who has slipped away from me and this world and arrived in the next. My Aunty, sitting at a dinner table with my Step Dad, with my nephew, with her Uncle and Aunty, with her Grandparents. With people that love her and will care for her, I want to believe that she is in a place where she will never feel lonely again.

And when I see her again, I will make sure, that she is never alone again. Nobody should feel that alone. Ever.

Four days before National 'R U OK?' day, my Aunty wasn't OK. She was sad, lonely and in a lot of emotional and physical pain. Four days before 'R U OK' day, I didn't ask if she was Ok. Four days before such an important day, I did not comprehend the importance behind such a huge question. But today, on this National day, I finally understand. 

Are you okay?

Why don't we ask that question enough, why don't we listen to the answers? Why, when we know that someone is "down and out", do we ignore it? Because that is exactly what we do, we leave those people alone and we wait for them to be ok again, then once they are, we welcome them back into our lives. Why? Yes, it is hard to deal with somebody else's pain, but how selfish of us to "protect ourselves" by avoiding the topic, protect ourselves from their pain because we don't want to feel their sadness. That is not what family should do for one another, that is not how friends should treat each other. 

This world can be such a cold, gruelling and painful place and we really owe it to each other to hold each other's hands and walk through the world together. No one should be alone and ignored and avoided. No matter the cost of your own self preservation. We all deserve to have someone ask us, and care about the response, are you okay?

I don't want anyone to have to feel what my Aunty Sue felt on Wednesday, or for the months leading up to Wednesday so today I ask you to please, please, ask your loved ones...

Are You Okay?

A suitcase full of moments

Image from here

Our lives are formed by moments, our persons are defined by moments.We each have a suitcase full of moments, of stories, that make us who we are, that have lead us to where we are, which influence the lives that we live. Some of these stories we share with others, to help us learn and grow from them and to perhaps inspire other people. Then there are some stories which we dont share, we dont talk about, we try not to think about. These are usually the moments that we are ashamed of, or the moments which inflict pain to reflect on. Perhaps these are the moments of our past that we fear our present will judge us on? Perhaps these past moments are ones that will change our future if we accept them? Or perhaps we are just scared.

My past is made of moments which I do not talk about, I don't share them with my present. I am not sure of the reason as there are many different reasons. Mostly, I think, because I am not meant to talk about them. Our society doesn't encourage these topics of conversation... taboo. Even though I don't talk about them, I think about them, daily. And today I have decided that my past shouldn't be taboo, it shouldn't be hidden away in the dark. It is what made me... me. Today I have decided that my Daughter needs to know about some of these moments, to show her that what decisions we make today can follow us through for decades to come.

This one particular life changing, life affirming moment, follows me through my life and if I ever dream of a day where I wont think about it, I am gently reminded by my surroundings. Somethings no matter how hard you to try to pretend didn't happen, will always be with you. 

Always with me is the ghost of what would now be a 10 year old child, a child I denied the right to life. A child that accidentally fell into my incapable life because of a moment of a young mind making a careless and reckless decision that soon had to be followed by a decision that was completely out of the depth of a 14 year old scared and fearful young girl.

Me, as a 14 year old girl, was someone so far removed from me as a 25 year old woman. I was an angry young girl, who was trying to be a mature woman. I was living life with an "i don't give a f**k" attitude. I was making decisions far beyond my years. I subjected myself to situations far older than what my young and naive mind was capable of approaching with maturity and sensibility. But I didn't care. I was having fun and enjoying my life the way that I wanted to do it. Not aware of how far those decisions can haunt you, not aware of the pain I was inflicting on the future me, not caring about my own sense of self and well being.

I had surrounded myself with people who made me feel loved, made me feel special and unique and made me feel like I was better than I was... or so I thought. When in actual fact both myself and the the people I had surrounded myself with were all just young angry children trying to get through their lives the best way they knew how, with all the dark angst of young adolescents. We were all just looking out for ourselves, not respecting or caring about the people in our wake. I thought I was cared for, that I was special to these people, but the truth is I wasn't anything other than an object in their way, much as they were in mine. 

I was a young angry girl who felt unloved and so was looking for love in all the wrong areas. I was a young angry girl who struggled with my life and my relationships and my family and myself and was looking for direction and support in all the wrong places. I found happiness at the bottom of a bottle, or on the other side of a pill, or in the reflection of a dust covered mirror. I found love and acceptance in somebodies bed, anybodies bed. I was 14 years old. Just looking for peace in a world that didn't seem to have any. Looking for quiet amongst the noise and looking for gentle beneath the rough. I just wanted to be free, I just wanted to feel free.

At the time I thought I was fine, at the time I thought I had friends and I thought I had a community. At the time I thought that I was free. Until I was with child and my community melted away, my friends turned into people I had to hide from. Turned into people who would bully, tease and humiliate me for being pregnant, people that reduced me to tears, time and time again. People who spread my "humiliating" news across the entire town. I hadn't found friends or a community, I had not found peace or quiet, happiness or love. I was not free. I was caged by the humiliation that had become my life, caged by my shame and guilt. 

I had two people who saved me in such a time of turmoil. The girl who was with me as I took the test, my best friend. The girl who saved me and my life more times than she can ever be aware of. The girl who, as a 7 year old in a new school gave me the confidence to just be. She and I laid together each night and talked about life as a Mummy and her an Aunty, beach trips and park play. She gave me the courage to believe in myself, she gave me the confidence to know that I did have a choice in this decision. 

And my Mum, who, when I thought I had no where to turn, I turned to her. And she helped me, without judgement or anger. She helped me to find a way to make a decision, gave me direction and faith. Helped me to know that even though my friends and my community had dissolved I wasnt in this alone.

So I made a decision, and that was that I have been unable to care for myself, unable to look after my best interests and my safety. I was unable to look after my health and my well being. If I cannot look after myself then this baby would also not be looked after. My mind was not mature enough, my heart not aged enough, I would not be able to give this child the life that he deserved. It was the most heart wrenching and emotionally challenging decision I have ever had to make in my life. Still, 11 years later, I have never experienced such turmoil or emotional heart ache. I have not found myself in another situation that is even comparable. It is a moment that follows me through life, every day, always at the back of mind. 

So on January 19th, 2001, I walked into Mayo Hospital with a black and heavy heart, with tear stained cheeks and with a foggy mind. And I waited for hours, to end the life that was growing within me, constantly battling my internal struggle. Constantly doubting myself, both my decision and where my life has ended up, even at such a ripe, young age. Such dark thoughts for a child, a child growing a child. 

I laid on a table and they asked me if I was sure this is what I wanted to do to which I responded yes, they placed the gas mask over my mouth and I started to count to ten as I listened to the nurse talk about her dinner, a roast lamb. I counted to 4 and then I changed my mind, this is not a decision i can live with, I decided. I shouted stop, I screamed for them to stop, I begged and pleaded, but my mouth wouldnt open, my eyes were closed tight and my mind shutting down. 

Then I woke up, and it was over, and it has been a decision I have had to live with.

Every day I think about that child, that child who would now be 10. My child, who is no more. I know, in my heart of hearts that I could not have provided him with a life, myself with a life, not one that we were both worthy of but regardless, every day my grief stricken's me and every day I want to talk about him, I want someone to know that I cared, that I loved him, that I miss him. But this is a moment that we do not talk about. This is a moment that is taboo.

My sleeping angel, Tye Cameron, you will forever be in my heart giving me the faith and courage and direction I need, the love and peace and happiness I was looking for. 

I won't forget... because that moment, made me.

Dear 17 Month Old You...

Today, the 3rd of September, you turned 17 months old. 

Today you are more loved than any other day, your personality and your attitude is stronger than ever before, you are taller, blonder, teeth-ier and sass-ier than ever before. You are my tiny little human who is leaving behind the baby days and welcoming the toddler years and I could just not be any more thrilled. Sometimes I honestly wonder to myself, when will I stop loving you more? When will my heart be too full of love? Because at this rate it grows that little bit more each and every day and I feel like it is going to explode into tiny little confetti pieces of love!

Every day now we are learning new things, body parts, words, objects, songs. In fact, only yesterday, your vocabulary grew from 'George' and 'gone' to now include 'dall' (ball) and 'shoes'. Thats my girl! I knew from very early on you were going to have an obsession with shoes, and now here we are. Shoes as one of your very first words, and an obsession with carrying them around, putting them on, taking them off, wearing them... all.the.time!

We have had some very hard and trialling months of late with both you and I being consistently sick throughout winter. We have been testing each others patience (mostly you, mine). But we are now on the other side of winter and welcoming in the spring with skirts and dresses and days in the sun, collecting shells and walking barefoot in the sand. 

We have been making a very conscious effort to ensure that each and every day we leave the house and we socialise and play and experience the outdoors. Always a new adventure to be had and new people to meet. Your personality is thriving because of this. Mummy has unfortunately had to be working 2-3 days a week for the past 6 months and you have not enjoyed all the extra time indoors, but this week will be the very end of that and I will be back to being 100% yours. My time and attention will not waiver. Spring and Summer will be ours to walk through the meadows hand in hand and play with the sun and the wind and the air.

Mummy is growing you a little Brother or Sister, I am trying to teach you at the moment that a baby is sleeping within my tummy. But so far all you want to do is tickle my tummy, tickle your brother or sister and this is ok with me.

This week is one of very mixed emotions for me. We are leaving our home, the apartment that you lived the first 17 months of your life in. The apartment that we created a home in, created a family in. But, we move into a new place, a house, with a back yard, that we get to create a new home in, that we get to extend our family in. I am sad to leave behind the lounge room that you took your first steps in, the bedroom that we snuggled and slept together in, the nursery that you laid your sleepy head to rest in every night. But I am excited to create new moments and memories in a home that I hope will make us all much happier.

You are such a shining light in mine and your Dadda's lives. You are a pure joy to have, a pleasure to watch grow. You astound me every single day and always bring a smile to my heart. You are teaching me and showing me all kinds of things that I would be missing if it weren't for you. You make me laugh, all the time. You make me happy. Truly happy. In a way that was unimaginable. Each and every month is just a joy, and each and every month just gets better than the last. 

I cannot thank the universe enough for lining up the stars and delivering you and your beautiful heart into my world. The angels must have been dancing the day they created you for me. You fill my life with song, my heart with joy and my body with love.

I love you, my precious Baby Girl xx

The Bump ~ 12 Weeks

After my interaction with my sister's devastating loss my pregnancy with Evelyn was not as celebrated as I would have hoped it to be. Both Anthony and I approached the pregnancy with fear and apprehension and were both too afraid to accept that the pregnancy would end with a baby in our arms. We were both too afraid dream and wish and hope and bond and celebrate. This was not a conscious decision or choice for either of us, nor was it something we realised we were doing until Evelyn was placed in our arms and we both started breathing again, not aware that we had been holding our breath for the past 9 months. From the moment Evelyn was born I began to feel a pang of guilt about how I treated her pregnancy, I felt as though I had deprived both myself, and her, of a special bond created between Mother and Daughter. So I have had done everything in my power since she was born to make up for that.

When I fell pregnant for the second time, with Jelly, I discussed with Anthony that I want to make a very conscious decision to celebrate this pregnancy. To document and enjoy and embrace the beauty that is creating a new life. We talked about ways in which we could do this and we both decided the best way to do this, for both of us to be able to be involved, would be to take one day each week and celebrate the week that was. To photograph and to journal {blog} each passing week. We sat down and wrote a list of all the places we would like to photograph the growth of Jelly in, and as we live on one of the most beautiful and spectacular peninsulas of australian coast line we have decided to, each week, go to a different beach along the Northern Beaches, our home, and spend the morning being together. Me, Anthony, Evelyn and Jelly.

So this weekend, the day that we approached the "safe zone" of 12 weeks, we went to our local beach, Newport. The beach that on Friday we move away from, and say Goodbye to what has become our home over the last two years. While we were here we talked about the past 12 weeks that were....

This pregnancy has been a long awaited and welcomed gift. A gift of love, from me to him. A gift of friendship and support to our Daughter, Evelyn. A gift of life, to all three of us. We have yearned for the day to create another special child, to expand our family, to make us feel more whole. When the day finally came, I felt nothing but pure joy. With face splitting grin my world became a better and brighter place. I am fulfilling my journey. I am fulfilling my desires. I am living my dream. 

The growing of Jelly over the past 12 weeks has been nothing but blissful, breezy and a pure pleasure. An unexpected but totally welcomed change from my first pregnancy. My appetite has increased, my sleeping improved, my emotional and physical wellbeing uplifted. 12 weeks seems to have just slipped away from me and as I enter the "golden" trimester I feel excitement and anticipation. 

My pregnancy with Evelyn, I was counting away the days to have her here with me, alive and safe. This pregnancy I want to take time to enjoy and appreciate and embrace and love the pregnancy, so far, this has been delightfully easy to do. Rather than wishing the time away, I am just wishing for time - time to create a bond with the child whose face is unknown, whose smell I have not experienced, whose touch is a dream. Time to create a bond, my heart beat, to your heart beat, no interruptions and outside influences.

Its you and me Babe... The next 6 months are ours to hold with our hearts and bodies entwined in a way that only you, me and your sister can know. 

Im in love already

Things and PLaces to see - Newport
Newport Arms - The best beer garden all across the beaches, great for a Sunday afternoon down time, bistro and pizza ovens, beautiful restaurant upstairs and the most breathtaking views. Come down and have a beer!

The Clairvoyant who changed my life

Remember those days as a young child when you had your girlfriends sleep over, you would all huddle under your sheets and blankets, lights out, torches on, skin crawling and ready to tell ghost stories. Ready to call on the spirits through the quija board. Remember those days when your belief in all things spirits, ghosts and angels was slowly starting to dissipate and you cynicism was overtaking?

On those nights, some of us were instigators... you know, the ones who would knock something over and pretend it was a spirit in the room, the ones who would move the glass wildly around the table, the ones who were greatest at telling the stories because they were never overcome by fear. They were the instigators, they were the ones who grew up to be cynics, they were the ones who left their belief behind, lost amongst the sheets and blankets.

One those nights, there were some who were believers. They were the ones who hid beneath the sheets throughout the entirety of the ghost stories, they were the ones who were terrified to put their finger on that glass, they were the ones who jumped and screamed when their friend knocked over the table and they were the ones who cried at the responses of the quija board. They were also the ones who went home the next day and woke their family up every night for weeks because they were experiencing nightmares. They were the believers, they...were me. And I never left my belief behind. Never to be left behind at a girls night in, always to follow me through life.

I am not religious, but I most certainly am spiritual, faithful. And because of this faith, last Saturday morning I sat down at the table of one of the warmest, most kindest soul I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Her name was Sue, and she is a clairvoyant, and she changed my approach to life. She gave me direction and faith and light and hope.

Waking up that morning I felt a sudden surge of overwhelming nerves and fear - about how the reading would occur, about what she would say, about what I would say. I realised that I was not prepared for what I wanted to talk to her about, I had not acknowledged what outcome I would like to ascertain leaving. My dear friend picked me up and I talked to her about my nerves, mentioned that I did not know what to ask, what I wanted. She too had not prepared herself in this way. We walked up to the door and as my friend knocked I felt like I was hit with a wave of anxiety. Until Sue opened the door to her home, opened her mouth and opened her heart. All nerves, fear and anxiety flowed out of me and a sense of warmth and calm overcame me. I knew, in that moment, that I did not need to be prepared. I just needed to be there.

We sat at Sue's dining room table while she prepared us all a cup of tea. Her home was incredibly beautiful. A table in front of big glass doors leading out into a sun filled green and blossoming garden. The smell of lavender in the air, blue in the sky and birds whistling their tunes. As I sat down at her table I breathed out the breath I didn't realise I was holding.

Sue talked casually with us as she made our tea, talked with us as though we were old friends, I felt as an old friend would. Then she sat at the table and placed her hands on my knees with the most gentle of hands. She explained her process and I watched her eyes and listened intently. I didn't want to miss a thing. She then closed her eyes and started to breathe. I held my breath and didn't take my eyes away from hers, not once. 

She began her reading my describing to me the images and symbols, numbers and letters she was shown. Throughout this description I felt confused, I was unsure what these images could possibly mean. But before long she moved on to elaborate and once she started describing to me the meaning behind the very first image I completely crumbled. I walked into her home believing, but in that moment, my belief that was just a flicker in the back of my mind became wild and unruly flames. I was completely and utterly astounded.

I moved closer and listened harder. The things she was saying about me, to me, felt as though she was in my minds eye, she was repeating my very words right to me. My inner voice, coming from the mouth of this wonderfully beautiful woman before me. I was in shock, it was truly one of the most humbling moments of my life. I do not know why it was humbling, I don't know if you will understand why I use that word, but I felt humbled... grounded. In absolute awe.

I wont delve too deeply into the things she and I spoke about because they are my words to treasure as my own and at this point in time I am not ready to share them. But there are few things I do want to share with you that she shared with me. 

Sue was shown a symbol of a dish drying rack on the side of the sink, empty. The spirits showed her with this image, my fear of abandonment, my feeling of being left behind. They talked to her about how I give more of myself to others than I give to myself. They asked her to tell me to take time to myself, to nurture, love and accept myself. She talked about taking the time to stop and smell the flowers, to take my shoes off, to walk in the sun. Sue talked to me about the need for me to say No. These were all things I have spoken of, both here and to Anthony. These were all words which I have spoken. Her description of me and my personality, my attributes and my flaws, were as though she had known me my entire life. 

Sue was also show an image of me sitting at a desk and writing. The spirits told her that I am on the right path, that I am doing what I should be with my "gift", with my writing. They told her that this is something that has travelled with my soul for longer than I can know. That I need to embrace this and to continue along this road. They told her I need to remain honest to myself, continue with the "no bull" approach, that this is fast tracking my soul along its divine path back to love. She said to me that I need to not worry about what it is I am saying, that I need to stop, stopping and just be honest and release my words into the universe.

These two corners of the reading were the two that really touched me. Moved me to better myself and my life. Gave me the courage to change my approach. In the last week I have taken the time every day to gaze into the horizon, to feel the sun on my face and the sand in my feet, to dream. And in doing so, it has given me the courage to find a dream. A dream to follow and to strive for. Ever since my Daughter was born I started living my life for her and I stopped living any part of it for me. With this new found clarity I have remembered that for Evelyn to have a Mother to aspire to, be inspired by, her Mother needs inspiration herself. So, even though I will never stop living for Evelyn, I will also be living for myself. Taking the time to do what makes my heart swell.

At the end of the reading Sue gave me something, a gift that I will forever cherish and remember, she leaned forward and she took me in her arms and then she just... held me. For what didn't feel like long enough, but also felt like an eternity. I cannot even begin to explain to you what that embrace did for me, but it was one of the most beautiful gestures and memorable moments I will ever have. A gift from a stranger in the form of a hug. 

I cannot recommend a visit to a clairvoyant enough, but if I was going to try I would start by giving you this and I would hold your hand and I would say to you... She will change your life

I was not asked or paid to write this post, this is a story of my own experience and written in my own words.

When a group of Mothers become a group of friends

Photo's taken by one amazing Mother - Kate

Mothers Group has all the intentions of being a group of women whom support each other, love and accept each other (warts and all), nurture each other. It has all the intentions on creating an environment in which new Mothers can form a bond and can form there own new source of support. It has all the intentions on being something really great. Really great. 

However, before I had even fallen pregnant with my Daughter I was privy to stories of Mothers Group experiences. Experiences full of judgement and criticism, comparison and competition. You know, those awful feelings that a new Mother should never have to experience, all those awful things that a new Mother should never place on another. I had heard stories of people leaving in tears, they were judged for using a dummy, bottle feeding, a crying unhappy baby. Anything and everything. In a time of such need I could not believe that women could still be so cruel to each other. In a time when sisterhood should shine, I could not believe that we still resort to petty school yard behaviour.

When I feel pregnant with my Daughter I had a brief thought, "this means Mothers Group!". And I shut it down as quickly as it entered my mind. Never to be thought of again. I wasn't doing any such thing! I was not going to set myself up to be so cruelly treated when I just knew I would be in a place that I would not be emotionally strong enough to be able to hand such behaviour. The idea of being placed in a forced environment, having to introduce myself in a room full of women, talk about my pregnancy, my labour, my birth, my child. Talk about how I am coping and feeling. Talk... in general... in front of people, people I knew nothing about and no doubt had absolutely nothing in common with. Well that was just overwhelmingly frightening! And I just wasn't going to do it!

Then Evelyn was born. The thought had entered my mind again, and again I threw out. Until the midwives came to visit and didn't give me a choice. I was going! I needed it! It would be great for me. Apparently. They signed me up and called me multiple times to ensure I had all of the information. But, I exercised my right to freedom of choice and I just didn't go. I didn't have the strength to walk into something that just was not in my persona. I didn't have it in me.

Until three or four months passed. And my Daughter had grown, she was teething, she wouldn't breast feed, she was unhappy and then happy, things were happening and I had no one to talk it through with. Then, I realised... how nice it would be to have a group of women who had babies the same age, who I could ask, who I could talk to.

So I did something so totally out of character for me. And I contacted that group of women that I was too afraid to meet. Then I turned up one Thursday morning. After they had been meeting for months, knew each other, knew each others babies, knew their place. I walked in there and I sat down and I introduced myself and my Daughter and I talked about my pregnancy, my labour, my birth. I did all the things I was too afraid to do. Then I learnt, that I can do this. I was just so completely proud of myself. I walked into a ladies house whom I had never met, and I met a group of 7 other women. And I talked and I felt ok. Nervous, so utterly nervous, but ok!

Then this strange thing happened. I started going back. Every single thursday. I started craving that time. Those women. Their babies. Their stories and advice. I cherished thursday mornings, I waiting for them and when I left on thursday afternoon I felt empowered... ready to start a brand new week. They gave me strength and courage. They gave me a confidence that I had not had before.

Then something even more strange happened.

We became friends. Me and those 7 other women. Me and those 7 other babies. Evelyn and those 7 other babies. Friends. The day I walked into that cafe for the first time I never could have prepared myself for what the next 14 months would bring. I never would have imagined that all of those women and their babies would help me celebrate my babies first birthday. I never would have imagined that those women would wipe away my tears and give me a hug when I had no where else to go. I never could have prepared myself for the love those women would show my Daughter, or the love I would feel for those 7 other babies. I never ever would have imagined, that in that very moment that i sat down and said hello I was creating for myself an unbreakable community full of support and encouragement and love and kindness. 

The love I have for these women is beyond describable. When I watch them play with Evelyn, cuddle and kiss her, talk with her, my heart swells. On that very first day, I did not think I would survive and yet here I am, with a 16 month old baby who has 7 16 month old friends. Here I am, a woman who never had many women in my life, with 7 new friends who I cherish and adore and just cannot imagine my life without them.

The decision to attend Mothers Group was one made with complete apprehension, total fear and anxiety but today... If I had not made that decision my life would be one a little less bright, a little less happy. I would be a different woman and a different Mother. These girls help me to be a better, greater version of myself and help me to be a Mother I never could have known existed without them.

For that, I will be forever grateful, forever in their debt.

52 Weeks of Grateful - The Moments

Between closing my old blog and creating this new one I had about three months where I was not writing anymore. There were many things I missed in that time about hitting that publishing button. But  two of the main things I missed where my monthly letters to Evelyn and my weekly moments of grateful.

So today, as my Daughter takes her afternoon nap and my house smells of freshly baked lemon cake, I sit in the sun with a cup of tea and I take a moment to remember to be grateful. I've had a particularly emotionally charged week. Emotions of the good, the bad and the ugly kind. Im blaming it on the pregnancy hormones... and maybe a little on my moody persona, but mostly the pregnancy.

So the thing I am most grateful for this week is moments. Moments that teach us lessons, like when to defend yourself and confront a problem, and when to walk away. Moments that show us that our self doubt is unworthy. Moments in which life proves that with every door closed, a window opens. Those moments where life surprises you, in all the right kind of ways. Moments where people surprise you, in all the right kind of ways. Moments. Life is made of moments and I cherish them, I am grateful for them.

My week has been full of moments, moments on either end of the spectrum. When I was feeling down, life would throw me an up. The best moments of all were when the people in my life proved to me that I am alright, that I am easy to love, that not everybody leaves.Those were the moments that made my heart sing and my soul shine. They were the moments that helped me realise that when something bad happens, or when a friendship nears the end, that life moves on and other areas of your life improve, drastically. With every door closed, a window is opened... as they say.

This week My Mr helped me learn that I am ok. He helped me see that regardless of my past or my present, regardless of my moments, regardless of all of that, the person I am today is a great person. He helped me to see that my life should be full of people who believe that about me and are ok with me and what I have to offer. My Mr loves me and he believes that I deserve to be loved. He will love me regardless of if I waver or falter. He will just be there, with me, never to leave.

This week my friend, the one who promised we will forever be friend, gave me a moment where I learnt that I do truly believe that sentiment. She showed me that she loved the girl she met all those years ago and today, even though we havent seen each other for almost four years, she still loves the girl I am. She made me see that people can love me for longer than a short period of time. For longer than a little while. That people dont grow out of me and leave me behind.

This week a new friend, became so much more than just a friend. She became my girlfriend, she became the girl I turn to. She became a girl that makes me laugh, in a way I haven't laughed with another girl in longer than I care to admit. She became the girl who considers me and my feelings and my moments and considers her responses and her words. She became a girlfriend who just loves me and cares about me. All in one moment, I learnt that she is what I want to surround myself with.

This week the sun came out and with it, it bought a true summers day, and on that summers day I sat on the shoreline and watch my daughter run to and fro from the waters edge. Digging in the sand. Basking in all the sun had to offer. And in that very one moment I released myself from my funk and I decided that all this moping around and feeling sorry for myself and sad for the ends in life had got to go. In that very one moment I realised that life is a glorious, beautiful thing. That it is always going to be full of ups and down, trials and tribulations, happiness and sadness, polar opposites... always. It is me who has to choose who I would like to ride this roller coaster of a life.

In that moment, sitting on that beach, I decided that the way I want to ride it is to say goodbye to things that run its natural course, welcome in the new, cherish the moments, hug the ones that I love and whom love me back. I will ride it with a (metaphorical) glass of champagne in one hand and a high five on the other. Because this life is wonderful and does not deserve to be full of moments of melancholy and mediocre. It deserves to be celebrated.

So I am grateful for the moments that made me sad, because now I have the clarity to enjoy the moments that make me dance!

***I really wish I could have that glass of champagne now!

Linking up with Maxabella