Life’s a film

If I had to write about my year like they do on the back of DVD’s I think it would go along the lines of this 
“Utterly gripping tale of tragedy”

“I didn’t know what would happen next. I was completely hooked”

“Get your tissues ready as it’s an emotional rollercoster” 

Obviously it would have a 5* review but oh my I wouldn’t wish my year even on my worst enemy. 

The preview would then go like this

Seriously ill pregnant mum is rushed to hospital on 15 liters of oxygen in January at 24 weeks pregnant. She is admitted to the intensive care section of a respiratory ward with pneumonia. Her condition stabilises and they hope to section the baby at 34 weeks however baby has other plans and arrives naturally into the world at 28 weeks and 4 days old. Baby spends 3 months in NICU while mum spends another month in hospital. Baby and mum get home with daddy for 3 weeks in May until they are back in hospital for 5 weeks. Baby is then ventilated and transfered to Bristol, in July, where they spend 3 months and got the diagnosis of SAVI. It is now October and they are back in their local hospital. Will they be home for Christmas? How will they deal with this rare genetic disease? 

Sounds like quite a good film when I put it that way but there was so much more human emotional involved. When you have a baby it’s ment to be happy and lovely time where family come over to coo over the baby that you don’t want to give up. You’re ment to sit on the sofa in pain in your pj’s looking at this little life you created. Instead I got home (with still a very tiny baby) but I had NICU nurses round every other day and because I could tell that they didn’t believe I was a fit enough mum. I made sure I was up and dressed by 8am even if Lydia was asleep. I made sure the house looked nice and then once they left we crashed out together. Life was just exhausting for us as we had support over media ect but for some reason we always get ignored or missed out in person. 

The worst bit about this year is that it was the year Lydia was born. I can think of more bad things than good associated with this year and I always just want to completely forget what happened, however, it’s the year my baby was born. That is a good reason to remember it.

2018 may not be much better for us as a family but I do know that this point next year I will have a happy and loved one year old (nearly 2) and and adored husband whose age I will omit for fear of scaring him! 
I’m entering the new year with a level head, taking each day as it comes with its trials but I plan to make the most of having Lydia at home whenever she is. 

I’m the world’s luckiest mum and I truly believe she’s still here because she fought for Josh and I. 

Happy and healthy 2018 to all our friends and family (emphasis on the healthy for you all)

She’s a real life princess!!

And sit down!
It’s been one of those weeks where everything is full on, plus I still have a school trip to go on tomorrow, secretly I’m excited mainly because I can wear jeans but still…..
I have just dropped my little sister off to her prom, naturally she looked pretty as a princess and hated having photos taken by me! However it’s a right of passage as an older sister to torture my younger siblings (even more so if they are the youngest)
I am so proud of my little sister, she’s gone through more than most children that are her age and I know she will come out with top grades helping her to aspire to whatever she wishes to be in this life (unless it’s a stripper which she declared she would become, many times during the taking of her GCSE exams)
I’ve seen that teeny tiny little baby grow into a lovely young lady who has
her moody moment (she’s a teenager it’s only normal, I told myself millions of times while talking her down from the ledge or stopping her from ripping my neck off.)
However at the end of it all I feel happy that I’ve had a hand in helping her find herself, she no longer wants to copy me and wear the same clothes at the same time or want the same career as me she knows her individual purpose for her life. I know now that imitation is the highest form of flattery and I should have appreciated it when I was younger yet I know that she still respects me even if she doesn’t copy me and that’s because she acts the way she knows is appropriate…. and I had a hand in teaching her that!
We’ve always had bad days where I’ve nearly killed her (joke I wouldn’t kill anyone… I get sad killing flies *awkward when your phone changes flies to slides… I have also never killed a slide in my life) but at the end of the day siblings do and I need to remember that although I am her sister I’ve also been a part time mother which some days puts double the strain on our relationship but with the thought of one day not being in the same house as her to dry her tears when she’s down or laugh at her when she falls and then pick her up that kills me… I don’t want the way our sistership (made up word? Who cares I like it) works to ever change!!!!
I’m an emotional human who doesn’t love by halves hence this super cheesy blog post, however sometimes it’s nice to show the people you love how much you love them. My way of doing that is writing, it always has been… just ask Josh! While we were dating I must have single handedly killed hundreds of trees (oh apparently I have killed, my bad)  writing little love notes for him to find when I left his house or he opened his lunch and that was me showing my affection towards him….
So here is my tree friendly form of affection!