The Sun Will Come Up It’s when they are asleep isn’t it? When you find yourself staring in awe at the tiny humans you created and wondering how it’s possible to love anyone as much as you love them, that all-consuming, overwhelming, wave of love you feel when you watch them sleep.
‘Yes I agree you need help to cope with impact caring is having on your mental health, so give us a call when your caring responsibilities are less and you have time to commit to therapy, bye.’
On the wall of Mojo’s bedroom is a picture by my ridiculously talented friend Katie. It is one of my favourite things in our home. It’s an extract from the Emily Dickinson poem ‘Hope is the thing with feathers’. The art is beautiful and the words are beautiful and it, for me completely embodies how … Read More
The first thing you need to know is that you’re going to be okay.
It’s going to be okay….
It’s the middle of the night. The hours of night are by far the loneliest, scariest and longest of complex care parenting. Fact.
On Tuesday of last week I sat in my car in the pouring rain taking a scheduled call from NHS talking therapies. It was essentially a triage service to see what they could do for me. The lady on the other end of the call gently asked what had caused me to reach out for … Read More
I can’t remember the last time I sat down to write a blog. Actually I can, I can remember many times when I’ve sat down and the words just didn’t come. It’s not as if there hasn’t been anything to say. So much has happened in the last year, so much that I intended to … Read More
Mojo is completely in love with the George Ezra song Shotgun (who isn’t right?). We’ve taught ourselves the Makaton for the chorus, Mojo can sound out the ends of the chorus sentences and the ‘yeah’ lines. We’ve had it on repeat for weeks. I think that the reason we both love it so much is … Read More
At the hospital we went to while I was pregnant there is an underground car park. Many of the memories I have from the bleakest days of my pregnancy are fuzzy or even misremembered but the memory of that car park is visceral. Thinking about it now makes my heart beat faster. The psychological impact … Read More
I’m slightly embarrassed by this post. Not because it’s essentially a fan girl letter to a bunch of bloggers and campaigners who are about to spend the day sitting on the loo in the window of a shop on Baker Street (no really they are) but because this is really the first time I’ve written … Read More
