Being happy with the blessings you have.

I look at my son's sleeping face.
I smell the aroma of his youth.
I hear his snuffly breath.
I bask in the knowledge his arms reach out just for me.
I fight with him for the right to use the spoon at mealtimes.
I battle to wipe his face of the yoghurt smothered over his face.

and I know I am blessed beyond words.

So why then do I have moments where something reminds me of my lost babies, and I break down and sob uncontrollably?

If you have watched Neighbours lately you will know that one couple on the show went for their first scan and were told "i'm sorry - there is no heartbeat".

I heard that and felt like I was being hit with a ton of bricks. A tsunami of grief washed over me and I was a total and utter mess. I cried like it had just happened to me. I instantly remembered what that was like hearing that news.

Then later, the tv couple repeat the scan and get told "there's a heartbeat". Not long later she is telling someone and says "It appears we are one of the lucky ones" - and Wham - another tsunami, greater than ever before hit me.

I was feeding Alex at the time - he was fighting me for the spoon, and I was, as usual, losing the battle. Alex was being extraordinarily cute too - smiling at me, blowing bubbles and shaking his head as he loves to do. The wave hit, and i couldn't function. The tears flowed, and I had to sit on the ground, my legs just went on me.

"one of the lucky ones" - why can't we all be lucky? Why do any of us have to ever hear those words "i'm sorry - there's no heartbeat". ?

Why does it have to hurt so damn much? I have Alex - he is incredible. Totally Amazing. He is nothing like I imagined he would be. I love him with every fibre of my being. He is quite literally, the light that shines in my day. I hate that I still feel this pain. Will it ever dull? Will I sit there, in my rocking chair in my golden years, hear those words on some stupid tv show and will my rocking stop, my heart breaking under the strain of the wave of grief hitting me?

I don't want to feel this bad forever.

Returning to the hospital where Alex was born was a strange experience. I had a lot of time to myself (next time i should bring my knitting). I had a lot of time to think. I did amaze myself at my comparisons to the last time we were there. When he was born i was so unsure of what I was doing. "Should I change his nappy now?" compared to me just doing it as if by some unconscious ritual. I was so unsure of just everything i was doing when he was born, this time I just did everything that needed to be done - I was in control. I was his mummy and I knew what was best for him. It was quite a surreal experience. I felt empowered. I felt like a Mummy.

Alex is feeling better. Yesterday morning I was considering returning to the hospital as he was wheezing badly and was off his food again. But at lunchtime he picked up and ate well, and he improved in the afternoon and by evening a glimpse of my son returned. He snored badly last night and I listened to him for hours on the baby monitor (yes it was loud enough for the monitor to pick it up).

Today he is a little better again. His nose is running less and his cheekiness has returned. My baby boy is definately feeling better.

Of course some pictures to end with, then it is off to bed for me. Nite all.

"Mummy - where did my toy go?"

"mummy - I lost my toy again!"

"Mummy - i don't feel so well...... I will just lay here and cuddle your leg"

"Feeling better today - wearing my yoghurt! Notice I won the spoon battle"

"Same meal - different spoon - I won that one too! hehe"

"Feeling much better - trying to figure out this crawling thing again"

Just before getting sick - Alex in his big boy pjamas Mummy bought him (with monkeys on them)

Sooo happy in my pjs!

ok - off to bed - nite all.