About a year ago I tried to resurrect this blog by giving it a lovely makeover (thank you Fran!) and getting myself a shiny new domain name, which I forked out some hard earned cash for. I thought I would try and write more and put new spins and slants on my grief that has played a leading role in my life since August 2008, given it has taken more of a back seat in my life for the past couple of years.
It didn't really work. I still don't visit here often and what's more troubling to me is, I think, that I visit all of you even less. I thought I'd never stop reading babyloss blogs. But the truth is, I rarely read them at all anymore. I feel like I've broken a thousand rock solid promises, as I thought I'd always need to read, comment, and share - give the love back. But mostly it is just time, and I suppose a new level of healing. A place I thought I'd never reach - this time five years ago this seemed like a land of unicorns and fairies. Completely unattainable.
A friend emailed me the other day to let me know some very troubling news. She said my blog was no longer "there" and that it had disappeared, or been deleted. Through the busy haze of life with small children and a shift working husband, I vaguely remembered getting emails about paying to renew my domain name, but I never did. I didn't see much point - the blog would still be there without it and it wasn't cheap. But by letting it lapse, all of the blog seemed to disappear with it. Thankfully the panic was only short lived and five minutes of fumbling around in my settings brought the blog and the words I've poured out here over five years back to life. But I was worried.
I'm not overly tech savvy and I don't know much about this blogging caper (still) and sometimes it seems like all I've really got of Hope are the words I've shared here since she left me. The blog turns five years old in a couple of days as I started it a couple of months after she died. What would my grief be without all of this, without Tuesday's Hope? I might not come here often and you might not all see "Hope's Mama" come up in your comments as much anymore, but I still like knowing this and all of you are still here, should I need it or any of you again. The relief once I got it all up and running again was immense.
I have been meaning to write for a few months now. I never even posted about Hope's fifth birthday or the epic journey that was moving house, but the thoughts are always there and the urge to write is always reasonably strong. A blog post generally always sits around the middle of my to-do list, it just never seems to find it's way to the top.
I am here today though. And I guess that's all that matters. I have a lively two year old beside me. I have my very soon to be four year old off at kinder for a few hours and the majority of my thoughts at this very minute, are with Hope. I don't get to say that very often these days, as truth be told she just doesn't get the chance to totally dominate my thoughts like she once did. Life simply doesn't allow it. But with the worry of almost losing the blog, the blog anniversary and the birthday of the boy who brought me back to life after she died all buzzing around in my head this week, I knew I needed to come here to put myself back in all of your blog readers. Whether anyone still reads here or not is a complete mystery to me, but at least I can one day look back and know that on 14 November 2013, I came here to record my thoughts about my firstborn baby girl who I still wish was here every god damned day.
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I still read. I always thought I'd read and comment too but I don't either. I remember my sister in law saying I wouldn't need it forever and at the timeI coulcouldn't breathe at the thought. I still wish our two girls were here every day too xx
ReplyDeleteI don't need to tell you how much of a lifeline your blog has been to me. I still read, but usually only during the night, when all is quiet and my thoughts turn inward, where I hold Max. I have to admit that sometimes it feels like it would be self-indulgent to skulk about soaking up baby loss stories like I used to when I've got a gorgeous, living girl to spend my time with, but I guess that's the paradox. Grief is never over, but your time to sit with it, wholeheartedly, one day is. For better and for worse.
ReplyDeletePs. On a purely practical note, do you have the blog backed up?
I still read. I'm rounding out 2 years since Alexander's death, and I still pop in and check in on all the "old timers" I first came across when I was weeks and months out.
ReplyDeleteI went back and read so much about your journey when I was desperately trying to put one foot in front of the other living without my first born. I read and read to try to conceive what survival looks like. To see what feeling "better" looks like. To see what being pregnant and birthing a live child looks like. I needed you and this blog.
I'm still here reading. Whatever you choose to do with this space, know tht I'm a faithful reader when your words hit this page.
I still read. My angel, Nicholas, will be gone 11 years 12/6 and I can assure you that although life does go on and new things demand your mind's focus there are always moments where everything slams back to your Angel and all that you've lost.
ReplyDeleteI've been kind of wistful about the many blogs in my "cohort" who have gone silent. I think that a blog born out of grief does run its course--not because the grief goes away, but because we get more adept at balancing it. It doesn't boil over and demand expression the way it used to. I'm still blogging (as I did before I ever got pregnant), but less often about grief, or when I do, it's about grief in a very different way. I love your writing and your blog was one that gave me so much hope in the early dark days after losing Eliza. But I'm also glad you don't need this space the way you once did, and glad it's still here to serve as a guide for others and a record of the girl who changed everything for you.
ReplyDeleteIt's good to see you come up in my feed again. I feel like I generally know how you are doing via other social media avenues, but it's good to get more of an in-depth picture. I think you are in a healthy place, but I understand that feeling of guilt at being less present in the loss world.
ReplyDeleteYour blog was one one of the first I read after our loss and what you wrote made me feel so "normal." I don't know where I would be without all the words and love you put here. Even though you write less, know that Hope's story and these words can and still are reaching others who have just lost.
ReplyDeleteI also thought that I would never stop reading and commenting. But, somehow, I find that I have.
ReplyDeleteI am so glad that Tuesday's Hope hasn't disappeared. I feel bereft when whole blogs, blogs that were part of my own life for years, disappear or go private. I do sometimes re-read whole chunks but also, as you write here, I like to know that they are there, that my own blog is still there. Even if we are all largely silent, we are still here.
Hope is so very often in my thoughts xoxo
I am always glad to read what you write, whenever you write it.
ReplyDeleteI don't write much anymore. Never really did. There is so much to write about though, but the tapping in is the painful part for me. I never really read, which is odd because I was so entrenched in all these blogs after Joseph was born and then died. It's the rainbow babies that get to me. The loss is no less, but for those who have gone on to have another baby, there seems to be such immense healing and I'll never have that. Sad, hey. But I'm ever so good at wearing the mask.
ReplyDeleteIt's always so lovely to read your words, Sally. I'm glad you popped back in for a while. And I'd say I think of Hope as much as I think of Joseph. xxx
I don't read as much as I used to either and my posting days have gone, for now. But if this is goodbye (and I hope it is not) I wanted to say, before you go, a huge thank you for taking the time to comment on my blog and pour out support and friendship when I needed it most. You, and many others I found through you helped me in ways you don't know. Thank you, Sally.
ReplyDeleteEmma's Daddy
I hardly ever post either, in fact I have only posted twice this year... Being blessed enough to have an Earthside baby means life gets in the way.. It's a good thing, a good place to be. I never thought I'd get here. I have learnt though that it's ok to heal and move on. It doesn't mean I love Taite and Seth any less cos, like you, there isn't a day goes by where I don't wish they were here.
ReplyDeleteI have less time to comment or write these days, but I still read. I always like seeing Hope's Mama pop up in my little world. xoxo
ReplyDeleteHello beautiful. First you must know that you and Hope will forever be a part of my life story- a sort of legacy isn't it? I completely understand every word you are getting at here, and I am only 3 years out. I came back to Cullen's Blessings tonight after many fortnights away.. and while things are inevitably different, the catharsis that comes from writing is still quite the same. Sending love and light your way my friend, and looking forward to a day when we all might meet up in person.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you and Hope today. She will be remembered, always. <3
ReplyDeleteWas thinking of you and sweet Hope today....sending much love. xoxo
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