Correvi...

...libero con il tuo scooter, con la tua testolina lucente di capelli neri. E mi dicevi 'mamma, guarda come vado veloce!' Poi sparivi nella luce e io tornavo alla realta'.

Redecoration

I had a make over for the first time since Sept,15th. Isn't it a historic day?
As I'm not doing very well at the moment, I took the day off and went to Oxford. I was wandering here and there and I remembered I had a free make over session to redeem and so I did. It was weird to look myself in the mirror with mascara and eye shadow after so many months, but somehow it felt a bit better. Maybe a hairstyle tomorrow helps me out to go through another day.

Tough spring days

I'm not doing particularly well lately. Yesterday it was just one of those days. We met someone who had a son a few months before I had Jacopo. No need to highlight that baby lived and he's a nice and smily 11 months old. Pain shot me down. All these babies that grow up around me, become children, learn how to walk, talk, be little people. All these babies except mine. I know it isn't just mine, but seriously sometimes I feel the only black sheep surrounded by happy families. I'm not sure for how long I'll be able to hold together.

Remembrance day

Yesterday it was the day of Remembrance at my hospital. I went to the service and sit down in the same room where I had my antenatal classes. Last time I stepped in there we were talking about breastfeeding a week before Jacopo's death. 

We read some poems, we listened to music, they sang a song and we lit  some candles.

I cried and cried, as I haven's done in months, silently, tears after tears until I had swollen eyes and dry skin. And it didn't stop for hours. It hasn't stopped yet, to be honest.

After days of new weird normal, other thoughts and worries, other tasks to focused on and concerns to think of, the grief came back as a thunderstorm with heavy rain and lightening. Apparently Jacopo needs his space, needs his mother's full attention, needs me completely focused on him. And he will have me, just for him, sometimes.

In our new home, I want to find a quite corner close to the River and I want it to be dedicated to my son. A place where I can go and grieve and cry and smile and bring a flower or lit a candle. A place close to me where I can bring my children and teach them that death is part of life, it doesn't have to be denied because the memories of who we loved will be with us until our own death and they claim space in our lives. Even just a day or two per year of full dedicated attention. 

Another mother day

For me one has been enough for this year but THIS is a great post dedicated to all the Unseen Mothers.

Sun in Cornwall

After a week in the wild (or so) I do feel lighter. The healing power of the Ocean is impressive. I had this conversation with an Australian friend a while ago and we both agreed we need the sound of the sea once in a while. I'm planning to get it quite often now on. We enjoyed the camping as well, two people, a tend and a car and a lot of nice fish. Tomorrow we are back in the routine, but maybe the light and the sun can help me out to go through it a bit better. We shall see what we shall see...

Another 18

Sometimes it's just too hard. It seems more difficult now with the good weather than a while ago. Maybe I had just pictured myself with Jacopo in a park and not alone following the same routine of one year ago. Routine which is tasteless. I feel stuck, repeating myself over and over again in a blind circle. These were supposed to be the last weeks of my maternity leave and every day that goes feels really heavy. I bought some new clothes for myself when I'd have had to buy new stuff for my growing son.  I had some sushi for dinner, alone at home, when I'd have had a 7 months old to wean. Every action reminds me where I am and where I should be and this place of mind isn't fun. I'm prepared to feel incomplete for the rest of my life and this is a kind of fair enough. It's this continuos parallelism of the real world and the one I had imagined that's slowly killing me. My mind can't rethink anything but me and John with Jacopo in a park with the sun and the gooses and the wind. A beautiful world which I'll never have.

Camber sands

Me again in front of the Ocean. I felt all right, with the sun warming my skin and the cold water lapping my feet. Then as often happens, I felt sad again. Jacopo should be with us, with his little feet in the water, enjoying for the first time in his little life the strength of the sea. Maybe he was there in the shape he always is. It's in the happiest and most beautiful moments that grief hurts more. Strange, isn't it? I'm kind of getting used to this sensation and it's not excruciating anymore, it's just there, always, in good as in bad days. So I was watching at the Ocean lost in my own thoughts when something very strong came from the inside and I felt hope and an undertone of joy and the breath of life to fight the death.

Thanks my Ladies, thanks. Maybe those white roses have reached the outlet of the River after all. I'll keep trying, I will.

I did it!

Long and hard day, but eventually worth the effort. Now I can retire.

Why am I putting myself through this additional stress is a question which doesn't get any answer. It's my fault, I overdid, I seriously overestimated my psychological stability and now all I can think about is: I can't make it.
But I have no choice
But I can't make it
But I have no choice

This loop of thoughts is giving me a headache.
I just want to fall asleep and wake up in the summer.
I have the mind numb, no concentration, no entusiasm, no self confidence and basically I just don't want to do it.

But I have no choice.
Shit.