Three Little Girls

When I gave birth to my eldest daughter and cradled her perfect self in my arms for the very first time I was overwhelmed by a number of feelings, thoughts and emotions. So much love, amazed by her beauty, and a massive sense of this is was what I was supposed to do in life, be a mummy.  But I also had this feeling, these thoughts, that this little person needs me, I need to do all that I can to be here, to be safe, to stay alive. I’ve had two more perfect babies since then and each time I’ve been overwhelmed by the same feelings. I need to live for my children, my children need me.

When Martin died everything was blurry. I didn’t want to go to bed, I didn’t want to wake up once I’d gone. I didn’t want to face up to reality. I wanted all of the facts. I wanted to be alone, alone with my pain and misery. I wanted to be surrounded by people, I didn’t want five minutes alone. I wanted to scream and I wanted to remain silent, forever. Everything, every one of those feelings, constantly contradicting each other. I wanted to be Mummy but if I’m completely honest, sometimes I wanted somebody else to be Mummy. I wanted to shrug off all of my responsibilities, yet I didn’t want my children to leave my side. I felt that it would be better for them to be cuddled by someone more capable, someone stronger, somebody who could concentrate properly. Somebody who didn’t bewilder them with outbursts of tears. There were days when I felt trapped. Trapped in a life I didn’t want. Trapped in a situation I had no control of. And that was tough to deal with. I was a trapped single mum, who had no choice but to carry on. I wasn’t allowed to be selfish, I wasn’t able to run and hide. And there were times when I hated that.

My children needed me then as much as they needed me as newborn babies. They needed Mummy. And looking back now I realise just how much I needed my babies too. 

After a few weeks of the hazy exhausting life after Martin had ended his, after the trauma of laying his body in the ground and saying our final goodbyes, that realisation hit again. I needed to survive this, I needed to live for my children if not for myself.

I decided to try and live happily, to be the very best mummy I could be. Painting on a smile, trying to focus on the positives, if they weren’t easy to find, I’d search for them. It was never going to be easy, but it was going to be worthwhile, I’d make sure of that.

I’m still trying, still putting in the effort to do my best. I put the children first, no matter what. I try and be an honest person with everybody and treat people how I’d like to be treated in return. When I make mistakes, they are genuine mistakes. Each time life knocks me down, there are moments, and I’m pretty sure there always will be, when I am not sure if I can endure much more. But I can and I will. 

Three little girls call me Mummy. Three little girls need me. Three little girls give me every reason to endure more and to get back up on those feet of mine. Three little girls help to put life into perspective. Three little girls give me all that I need to keep surviving and to keep living a happy life.

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