What Mummy Did

Yesterday I launched this blog, I talked about it being Martin’s birthday, which seemed to be the perfect day to begin writing. I then felt I needed to tell our story, of how we ever became a little family affected by suicide. So I wrote a post about ‘what daddy did’.

Today I want to write about our little family now; present day. I want to write something positive, something that can show you where our journey has taken us. Something that can prove to those unfortunate to be at the beginning of their own journey, that life can change. How we can all overcome a tragedy and how we can learn to live again and begin to heal.

So here we are, it’s a beautiful sunny day in May, 2018. Our little family has grown. Isla is now 9 years old and Martha is 5. They are happy children. And they are big sisters now, to Emmy who is 18 months old. We live in a home not far from the one I moved to back in 2014 with my two little girls. I am engaged to Emmy’s father, Jon. He has excelled in his role as Step-Dad to my two girls, who have chosen themselves to call him ‘daddy’. We are a solid and happy little family and will become even more so when Jon and myself marry in December.

I met Jon in March 2015. A chance meeting. I was out for a very rare night out with friends and there he was. We had a 
few mutual friends and thanks to them we were introduced.

I liked him, I liked him straight away, but I was petrified. We kept in touch and he seemed keen to meet up again and to get to know me more. But so many ‘what ifs’ bounced around in that fragile and vulnerable mind of mine. I had no self confidence, I was seriously lacking trust, in anybody, and I just felt too broken. Was I ready? What about my girls? How on earth was a relationship ever going to work?

Jon turned out to be the sweetest and most patient person I could have asked for. He understood when I suddenly went quiet and unresponsive to messages. It must have been incredibly hard for him to know where he stood, to know what was going on in my head, to know how to read all of those mixed signals I gave out. It must have been incredibly frustrating - but he never showed it. He just waited, patiently, until I figured it out in my own head and was ready to start again.

Our relationship hasn’t been plain sailing but it has, without doubt, been a worthwhile one. I am incredibly guilty of wanting to run away and to throw it all away before I get too hurt whenever things get a little difficult. A form of self preservation I guess. I live in fear of being hurt. I still to this day struggle to trust people and it’s been a particularly hard and long journey to let myself completely trust Jon. There have been too many times when I’ve closed in, shut him out and pushed him away - but still he has remained the same. Always there, always kind, always respectful and always sympathetic. Always willing to forgive and forget when I’ve been at my worst. He has never made me feel guilty if I’ve made a bad choice, if I’ve said the wrong thing or if I’ve acted in an unfair way. He’s let me talk, he has listened to the same stories over and over again with an understanding of how important it is that I do talk. And he’s held my hand and held me close, all of those times life has got a bit ‘too much’, when my over-sensitivity has lead to uncontrollable sobbing, when I’ve woken from nightmares, consumed with fear and distress. He has been there throughout and asked for very little in return.

I am lucky, I am lucky to be sat here in my garden in the sunshine whilst my little girl plays happily and my two big girls are at school. I am grateful, I am grateful for the amazing people that I can call my family. 

What Mummy did, was eventually learn how to love again and how to be really loved in return. It has been quite some journey, but right now, it is amazing. We are happy.


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