But what if breathing isn’t easy?
On the 23rd November 2004 my life changed. The Little bubble I floated around in with MrR burst and we were hit with the harshest reality.
I have blogged before here about R and his time in NICU and I won’t go through it all again here,please go and read my last post as my baby boy was and is still a huge part of our lives and one we never want to forget.
We both worked through getting up each day and going to work and about our daily activities but laughter and fun were few and far between. I think my hardest time was about 6 months on when I truly believed I was as low as I could get and I didn’t know if I had the strength or even the will to try to fight to get better.
Nothing could be further from the truth there are still songs I can’t listen to, programs I can’t and won’t watch and stories that I Immediately have to tune out of otherwise I would collapse into a heap. Crying doesn’t get me anywhere and doesn’t make anything better or easier so is something I seldom give in to. The feeling of my breath catching and my heart jolting is one over the years I have gotten used to. Something will flash up a memory of R, his life;death or the time after and for a second the initial searing pain is back and the grief is as raw as it ever was.
R as it says on your headstone Precious memories of R ‘babysmall’ (my nephew called him this when he was alive). We will always keep your memory alive and will never ever forget you. You will always be my baby.
We are surviving and more than that we are on the main enjoying living and seeing life through K and Busters eyes. R you helped us see just what is important- family.
I hope we never loose sight of that