A Darkened Room

I sit here in a darkened room.

My back against the cot, I sit here for what seems like an eternity. I don't feel the pain of the cot bars digging into my back though.

I just feel you.

I feel your warmth. I feel your heartbeat. I feel your body one with mine. Just like we used to be when you were inside me.

I sit here in a darkened room holding your tiny head in my hands. Not ever wanting to let you go.

I sit here after calming you down. Cold and teething are not your friend tonight. You love your sleep and it pains me to see you so upset.

It's not like you. You're usually so happy.

You've been so difficult today but I don't mind. I don't mind one bit. For when I feel my patience wearing thin I imagine what life would be like without you.

Without you. I shudder at the very thought.

I have lots to do tonight but it can wait. Me time seems so pointless.

You are me.

I just want to hold you close forever. And ever.

I want to sit in this darkened room as long as I can. I sit here and the tears start to fall. They start to fall because I know that outside of this room there are other mummies and daddies who sit in the dark.

They sit there for different reasons.

They sit there without their baby.

Their baby is gone.

That baby could be tiny. That baby could be fully grown and left home. No parent should have to bury their child - whatever age.

I'll sit in this darkened room for as long as I want. I'll sit and I'll think and I'll be thankful. Thankful that even though this evening has been hard...

...you are here with me.

A 2 Year Old's Guide To Losing A Pet

It's been a week today since I was at that vets where they put my 15 year old dog to sleep.

This has upset me more than I ever imagined.

"I miss Betty"

But what about Mini Cheddar?

She had to come to the vets with me as I had no-one to watch her. Neither of us witnessed them putting Betty to sleep. We had all walked into the vets together - Mummy, daughter and pooch...and then MC and I left alone, me just clutching a pile of tissues the vet had handed me along with a lead and Bettys precious collar.

MC asked me as we walked out the vets "What about Betty?"

I couldn't answer. I could barely see through the haze of tears, let alone speak.

MC asked me on the way home in the car "Where is Betty, Mummy?"

I told her that Betty was going on a long holiday.

"When will she be home?"

"She's not coming home sweetie, it's a special holiday" I sniffed.

When we got in the house I was a mess. I dearly wanted to be strong. To hide it from her, but I couldn't. MC just handed me tissues and kept saying "It's okay Mummy, Betty will be home soon".

Then she started playing with her Duplo bricks and built a tall tower.

"Look Mummy, I've built this tower. When Betty sees it she will come home".

Now she still builds towers all the time and places them in front of the picture I have of Betty in the lounge. She talks about Betty a lot and I really hope it stays that way as I do want MC to remember her. She even asked for a photo of her and Betty for her bedroom.

Betty and MC - as seen on her bedside table

What breaks my heart is how our routine has changed and how much MC has noticed. Every morning we would go downstairs together into the kitchen and let Betty outside into the garden. Now, every morning without fail, MC comes into our bedroom and says "Is Betty Dogface downstairs?". She opens the cupboard in the kitchen which once housed 'Betty's biscuits' and says "But there's nothing in here Mummy!". She used to love feeding Betty her dog biscuits.

MC has been sad, standing where Betty's bed once sat and asking where she is but she's not been upset about it as she doesn't really understand.

Although, somehow she knows whenever I look sad or get upset that I need a cuddle and to hear the words "I know...you miss Betty, Mummy" and then gives me a kiss and pats my back.

I think 2 year olds are far more switched on than we sometimes give them credit for.

I'm so thankful for my beautiful girl and how caring she is. I couldn't have got through the last week without her.

Silent Sunday #38

Inspired by

My Dog Is Dead

I didn't know what to title this post. I couldn't come up with the right words. I thought of emotional titles, I thought of heartwarming titles. The thing is, the fact remains.

Bamburgh Beach - 2007

My dog is dead.

Sounds brutal but it's the truth and at the moment I feel so numb it's untrue.

I thought I was prepared for this moment. I'd talked about 'this day' coming and I knew at almost 16 years of age she didn't have long with us but it's hit me badly.

If she'd just died in her sleep of old age I may have been able to handle it better but yesterday morning I was faced with that awful decision in the veterinary surgery - the decision that every pet owner dreads.

I had to put my dog to sleep.

It didn't help that my husband was away down in London and my parents were on holiday - plus I'm pregnant! I felt so alone.

I had to take Mini Cheddar with me as I had no-one to look after her. It didn't help that she was being very 'difficult' so I was trying to talk to the vet between my sobs whilst MC is running around the surgery having removed her wellies!

I know there will be people reading this who are thinking "it's just a dog, get over it". If that's you then please don't comment, I really don't want to hear it.

Sleeping - 2008

Betty was more than a dog, she was a massive part of my life for so long and, even though she was old and didn't run about as much as she used to, the house feels so empty without her.

She was such a loving little dog to those who really knew her. She could be a nasty piece of work when she was younger and she never got on with other dogs, she would regularly see off even the biggest of dogs if they got too close for comfort.

I feel sad that I haven't been able to give her the attention she has needed in these last couple of years of her life. I blogged about Betty at the beginning of the year when I realised how old she was getting. Her quality of life these past 6 months or so had gone downhill fast, she had cataracts and could hardly hear and what finally got her was an infection in her back legs. She was too old to undergo anaesthetic and the pain and lengthy treatment without it was something I couldn't have put her through.

"What would you do?" I asked the vet.

I knew her answer before she even spoke.

Meeting Mini Cheddar - 2009

So at 9.45am yesterday Betty was put to sleep. The thing that upsets me most is that I couldn't be there when she went because of MC. I had to wait in the echoey waiting room and just listen as I heard them shave her leg in preparation for the injection.

I was awake at 5am this morning crying. I'm wracked with guilt about my decision. I know it was for the best but I can't help it, it's one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make.

MC said to me this morning "I miss Betty" (we've told her she's gone on a long holiday and won't be coming back).

"I miss her too, sweetie" I say "I miss her too".

Gone Far Too Soon

It's strange how things happen sometimes.

Every year about this time I always think about an old school friend of mine.

Then, as I'm clearing away some things in the house this week this photograph on the left drops out onto the floor - it's a photo I've not seen in a long time.

A group of friends, about 14 years old, I'm guessing, crammed into a photo booth just for fun. All 8 of us, so full of hopes and dreams.

Incase you're wondering, that's me on the left with the fuzzy fringe.

So what's strange about this photo making an appearance this week? Well, the girl above me is no longer with us. Katie was killed on this very day back in 1995. Her life snatched from her in a car crash at the tender age of 20.

I think her death affected me more than I let on as I still think about her now, 16 years on and think about what she would have achieved. Her life was pretty perfect, she was young, beautiful and extremely talented.

I still think about how her funeral was the first funeral I'd ever been to and I still remember the faces of her parents and her younger sisters walking behind the coffin.

I remember how one of my friends mothers picked us (two friends and myself) up after the funeral. My friend had a mother you didn't mess with, she was permanently moody (I kid you not) but her mood that day was so warm and affectionate, like nothing I'd ever seen before. It was probably the fact that the 3 of us were all propping each other up in pool of tears or maybe it was just a strange relief that it wasn't her daughter who had been taken from her. Now I'm a parent myself I understand more about how all our parents must have felt when this tragedy hit the community.

I still remember how I hadn't seen Katie for such a long time as she'd been away at Uni then about a week before the accident I'd bumped into her in the local pub. We'd shared some talk and a hug.

Then this happened. 

As I say, it's strange how things happen sometimes.