Mothers Day

Mothers Day…

As ever, I am very thankful for my mum and hope I tell her often enough how much I appreciate all she does for me, but this weekend more than most I’m thankful for those who call me mum.

I am very lucky to have them both and although I often have to remind myself this (sometimes several times a day), I am also frequently struck by how odd the mothering thing is.. I grew these people? These people who have their own minds, their own thoughts and their own opinions and who are not afraid to share them!

Amy will be 14 on Thursday. I can’t quite believe it. I usually find her birthday difficult.. but last year for the first I didn’t have flash backs or glimpses of what I might have been doing at the same time x years ago on that fateful day.

Tonight she was telling me how she will still be up at midnight the night before, so that she sees ‘turning 14’. I told her she was born at 2.09am.. and instantly I got that stomach lurching feeling that I didn’t want to have again. But I let it come.. and go.

Amy’s birth is not something I like to remember. It was traumatic.. for her especially. And its still traumatic. No amount of people telling me to wise up, it’s a long time ago.. look how well she is now.. etc makes that bit any easier. Ever. And I’m not naturally dramatic or attention seeking. The problem is that our brains are powerful things and the impact of what we went through is stored away deeply in the iceberg that is our subconscious mind along with all the self esteem building moments and those moments that shake your view of yourself to the core.. the hurts and the low body blows that we get from time to time. When something is triggered from that deep core it bubbles up and over all too easily (for something you thought you’d locked away).. The iceberg (think of your brain as a huge triangle.. only the tip of which is visible.. the rest under water) can as easily be filled with happy and positive memories or experiences which boosted your self esteem. I tell people about this often.. when you get a compliment for example and it feels good, be aware of the feeling and enjoy it and store it in the bottom of your triangle.. the point being that someday you’ll need to draw on those reserves.

I can still now bubble up with the gut wrenching fleeting sickness when I recall Amy’s birth and early days. It can be triggered by the oddest of things.. like the beep of a photocopier.. if you’ve stood in intensive care you’ll know what I mean..

The thing is that you can’t reason with your subconscious. The reactions are triggered without you even being consciously aware that they have been. Until you ‘see’ yourself acting irrationally..

I can now clearly feel the trigger, which means I can acknowledge the pain, and then move on from it. That’s taken some time though.

I’m acutely aware that mothers day is not about mothers. It’s a retail landmark.. but nonetheless it’ll be a landmark day for those who may not wish to be reminded of it.

We lost 5 babies and barely managed to bring Amy safely into the world. Lucy was lucky number 7.

Amy’s survival is nothing short of a miracle and I choose this way to remember the experience when the bubbles come.

Amy was 6 days old on my first mothers day. We still hadn’t held her (she was 6 weeks old before that happened.. and she died in my arms). My mum and the nurses made tiny footprints in a card for me and it was the most heart breaking card I ever received.

I don’t actually think I can write about it all if I’m honest. It’s not very interesting if you weren’t there.. it’s kind of a ‘you had to be there..’ story. As in, you actually wouldn’t believe it all.. In short, our miracle wouldn’t take it lying down. She fought so hard that despite having little going for her (apgar score of 1), she was determined with all of the little resource she had. They had to sedate her as she refused to let the life support machine breathe for her.

Amy was no bigger (or heavier) than about 6 slices of streaky (not even back) bacon. We were priveledged to watch our wee scrap of life develop in front of our eyes. Her ears, fingers, skin.. her heart had to learn to pump, her blood had to learn how to renew itself, no reflexes indicated that everything would be a journey. And it has been..

So now she is almost 14. It’s as far away as ever. We are reminded often of how hard she has to work to process what we make sense of innately, but that strength of will that kept her here against all odds is the strength of will I clash with often now.. and for which I’m thankful.

I’ve learnt a lot from Amy. I think many people will learn a lot from Amy. The gifts she has are many and diverse. I hope she can learn to see them. Lucy can see all her own attributes.. that is her gift.. a miracle by virtue that she made it here safely, Lucy is a force of nature.

So, rather than focus on cards and chocolates tomorrow (although there will be both and they will be appreciated), I will look at my miracles and be grateful for them.. hormones and all.

 

Travesty!!

Today was the re-run of world book day (as school was closed on the actual day).. what was the bet that schools would be closed for a random snow day after parents spent 85 fortunes on costumes depicting characters from books their children had never read, or from movies or comic books (losing the concept of book day and focussing on the ‘dressing up’ part of the note that comes home about 2 days before the appointed day).

I had the unenviable task of managing the expectations of my (built like her mother) 8 year old in the days before the original book day. Having scannd the shops and realised that all children in NI would be dressed as one of 4 or 5 (loosely related to literacy) characters, I knew Lucy would not feel happy dressed as red riding hood (Lucy is 16 in her head) or gangsta granny (Lucy is a hip kind of 16 year old..in her head).. She was less likely to be a disney princess (all costumes designed to fit swelte 6 year olds at best) or Harry Potter (because shapeless cape).

But I need not have feared. As I tentatively raised the issue in the car she said ‘but mum, it’s not world costume day..its world book day. I’ll wear something I already have. ‘ A gem, this child.. It didn’t stop there though. To cut a long story short- Lucy was wonder woman today. I was all prepared to dash off to buy a book to support the costume choice, but no.. she’s thought of that too. A library book no less.. we’ve got this literacy thing licked! The library book is about Wonder Woman- the Amazonian princess! Imagine my delight when she produced this. It saved me a trip to a book shop (saving me about £50 I’m sure- it’s a small fault in a good woman though), but it’s also a fab book! Page 1 describes how being a princess isn’t about balls and princes and disney dresses.. it’s a birth right; she’s part of a royal line and she has a responsibility to her people. She doesn’t just tell people what to do- she shows them the way. This makes Diana (!)a great leader.

Well.. if this wasn’t a lesson for girls in leadership right there.

My girls and I have quite profound chats. Not intentionally, but because they are both insightful and empathetic in nature they often draw parallels between behaviours and lessons. I love how they bring these insights to me rather than me raising them.. it’s the wrong way round! Amongst some of the profound chats of the last month has been my particular favorite- how I am like Miss Rabbit in Peppa Pig. Not with long ears and a round yellow stomach, but because each day when they ask what I’m doing, there are many possible reponses! I do so many things and love the flexibility that my self employment offers me.  If I start selling crepes at a fairground or operating the bin lorry like my yellow counterpart please let me know I’ve taken it too far!

I love the model that my girls are able to see that the world is their oyster; that they can choose their path; that they can add value. Yesterday was international womens day as you know, and almost opposite of feminism I’m not sure really why we have to keep talking about womens roles, about how women can do all things for all people, about equality… I’m worried that a whole generation of women misinterpreted this as you need to do ALL these things to show youre better than men.. we don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Rather than ‘I can do what I choose’, many heard ‘you can have it all’ but this is only true if you are aware that you’re  only human and sometimes something has to give. Rather, I chose to focus on the value women can add to each other’s lives in a uniquely strong way.

I’ve recently started to coach a group of women through a leadership programme borne from the understanding that women in communities have an often untapped ability to effect change. Through the programme women are enabled to carry out transformative work in communities and equipped with leadership skills. I am loving seeing growth already.. enjoying seeing the strength in the room, the support for each other and getting glimpses of the lives that have shaped them. I am honoured to have this experience and hope I can in some small way impart skills which will in return add a little value to their lives.

Today I talked about wonder woman to the ladies. We talked about how we are all strong. And we all possess the ability to lead. We talked about putting ourselves first and if Lucy hadn’t have had her book in school, I think we could have supplemented a module with it..

But the book was in school. Probably never out of the bag, such was the focus on costumes. The point of book day should be on how books change lives, how literacy and indeed the power of books was an opportunity denied to many. The point of book day is the impact on your child’s vocabulary and (by default) life chances if books are a part of your daily life. The point of world book day should be that when it was cancelled, Lucy said it was a travesty! A travesty. She is 8. And struggles with reading but tries very hard and loves books. Her expressive language is amazing and that is the point of world book day.

Anyhow, my diva rocked the wonder woman look with a denim jacket. As you do..