FlumpandFluff

I used to wonder what it might have been like
to have known my dad in the earliest years of my childhood.

That wondering carried a quiet grief—
a longing to imagine what it meant
to be held, guided, and loved by him
from the very beginning.

From the age of eleven, he was there—
shaping me, steadying me,
helping form the person I became.

And yet, a part of me still felt the absence,
as though some pages of our story had been left unwritten.

But then, I became a parent, and the wondering ended.

For in his love for my children, I saw what his love for me had always been.

I saw it in the way he cradled them as newborns— his face etched with awe,
as though each child was a miracle
he had waited his whole life to meet.

I saw it in the joy of first steps— his arms outstretched, a sanctuary of safety,
calling them forward into his embrace.

And I understood:
I had not lost out.
I had not been deprived.

Through my children, I was given a second childhood— lived in the warmth of a grandfather’s arms, a love that filled every space I once thought empty.

That was my dad’s gift. A love that came not too late, but exactly when it was meant to.
A love that endured, and echoed through generations.

And so today, I do not only grieve his absence— I honor his presence.
I honor the man who stepped into my life
and gave me more than I ever knew I needed.

I honor the father who shaped me, the grandfather who adored my children, the man whose love will never leave us.

My dad’s legacy is not only in the memories we carry, but in the love that continues to live on— in me, in my children, and in all of us who knew him.

That is how he remains with us.
That is how his story continues.

Forever loved.
Forever missed.
Forever my dad

Trauma leaves a long lasting hangover. A haziness of memories unwanted whilst those desired slip away. They say time heals but there will always be a wound, a scar of the messy mind that hurt made. To embrace the journey towards a remedy requires softly treading footsteps and a unique braveness. You’re leaving behind the you of old, because she is no more. The grief of goodbye weighs heavily. Days travelled are mostly restorative but the path can run a wicked course burdening the brain with thoughts of the unwanted yesterday. A step back can feel like you are breaking all over again but you push forward, always moving despite the shackles of the past feeling heavier at times. The distance is long but with time, peace slowly replaces the tortured parts of yourself. Joyful memories that you thought were lost, return with a technicolour sharpness as though they were newly made, surprising you like a gift. The vision of your new self initially appears blurred and out of focus. Your eyes strain to see her, the outline of her once bent and broken form now holds herself straight and proud. You pick up the weight of the world from your shoulders and place it under your feet and dance whether it rains or shines, grateful for the lessons and who you now are.

Moving through this journey your bare soles tread softly and tentatively. Uncertain of what is to come, stomach filled with butterflies and joy.

A mix of daydreams and reality of what lies in front occupies your mind. Guiding yourself towards a new version of you, one you’ve not yet met.

Don’t be afraid. Remember you are woman. You are surrounded by love and well wishes for your journey ahead.

Remember, your soles will trend softly and leave tentative footprints but look around you. Next to you, behind you, with you, are the deeply engrained footprints of those who have trod these paths before.

You are safe and carried along this path with an abundance of love and light.

Connecting with my soul
Big beautiful blue eyes
Contented in our moment
Deep breath and she sighs.

I see you seeing me, my darling girl
My first born, my love
You’re surviving me
And that’s something I’m proud of.

Because it’s about me, it always has
I’m being your mother
And you’ve never had any doubts
Love unconditional like no other.

It’s taken it’s time but I believe
In my ability to offer you all I should
Love, life, safety in my arms
I never imagined I could.

But I see you seeing me
You’ve never had any hesitation
Your love unconditional has healed my soul
You’re my life, my motivation.

Thank you for teaching me
Your young mind unknowing
Just how important this journey has been
For us I’ll keep it growing.

So I sit there our eyes connect
This is the bravest thing I’ve done
I now know I’m good enough
I always was, i just needed the clock to run.

They say time is a healer
And oh goodness how this is true
So I see you seeing me
And now I too see you.

“No harm” they said;

I feel my body drain of blood. Ringing in my ears. Eyes closing. Death calling.

“No harm” they said;

Waking alone, dark spaces, wires and tubes. Babyless.

“No harm” they said;

Standing but crouched over with pain and weakness. Blood dripping, vulnerable. Trying to brush matted hair in a shower with a stranger watching.

“No harm” they said;

Nipples sore, milk sparse. The mechanical pump wheeled into the room. No help. Baby screaming. No help. Baby hungry, dehydrating. Surely I should know. Get back in your room with your screaming baby. You’ll disturb people. No help.

“No harm” they said;

Gift of blood flowing into my veins. Baby screaming as they take hers. Let it end. Looking for your help, eyes meet but none is given. My mind telling me horribly, unrepeatable things.

“No harm” they said;

Home, so thankful but fearful. Pain overwhelms me. So sore. So tired. My mind takes me back there but I’m not there. I’m thankful but so tired. So sore.

“No harm” they said;

Sepsis devouring me, running over me like a shower. The rancid smell. More surgery, this time my stomach left unsutured.

“No harm” they said;

Body oozing offensive fluid from a wound that was never meant to be. Dressing overburdened, seeping. Sanitary towels stuck to clothes to mop up the over spill. 3 months feels like 3 years. Dignity gone. Mind going. I want to slip away.

“No harm” they said;

Flashbacks becoming more frequent. I’m back there, I feel my body drain of blood. I’m living but have no life.

“No harm” they said;

Brown envelope filled with a report that held a promise. A hope, but no hope found. “No harm” it said.

The storm had eased and the gentle waves were lapping at her soulless feet. Her body ravaged by the twist and turns of the weather now passed were the only signs of devastation anyone would see from the outside.

Sitting by the shore she marvelled at how big the ocean was and how small she was beside it, invisible. Knowing the large waves could return and sweep her out to sea made her feel vulnerable. Still she could not move.

Paralysed by what had come before she could not see far beyond the horizon. A blindness was set in her eyes. She knew, however, that the calmness wouldn’t last. It couldn’t, it never had before.

The sun was setting and darkness was seeping in. The familiar tug on her feet, she realised the swell was rising again. Still she could not move.

Lights were shining moving in the wind. Help was near yet too far away to mend what had already been done. She reached out knowing she’d find warmth there but there were no hands which could carry her.

Stuck between jagged rocks from a yesterday still present, and the grappling undertow threatening tomorrow she took a deep breath. It was time to move.

The mind heavy like a stone the light now dancing on the surface of the sea, teasing. Her perspective blurring, movements slowed, weightless. Her lungs filled and burned. The glow dimming, moving further away. She did not move and all at once the darkness let go and there was peace.

My darling girl, I’m sorry I’m not the mummy I’d hoped to be to you.

If only time travelling existed I would turn back the dials of the clock for you and I. Many say ignorance is bliss but for us, dear girl, it has caused us irreparable harm. For this I’m more sorry than you may ever know or understand.

If we could dream for a moment or ‘pretend’ as you so often call it, I would make believe all that I know now I’d have known then.  I’d change it all, all I was ignorant to, the arrogance of believing I knew enough.

My lovely child, I am deeply sorry for what I’ve become. My brain fails me; anxiety devouring me from inside out like a cursed disease. It bites at you so often like a rabid dog and I see it, I do, but often so late.

It’s all my fault and you, my sweetheart, are innocent but have suffered because of it. It’s your 4th birthday today and it’s still hard now as it was then. But now I can see the person you are becoming and you are wonderful and kind and generous and fierce and caring and have such a beautiful soul. But I see the sides of you frayed from having me as your mummy and I am so deeply sorry, my darling girl.

In all the excitement of present buying, cake baking and balloon blowing there lies lurking in the background a dark oppressive fog. The joy of my child’s 3rd birthday is overshadowed with memories and flashbacks of a yesterday that feels all too fresh despite times advancement. It’s been 26280 hours since my child’s birth and most of these hours have passed with some thought; some reliving; deep breathing anxiety that lingers from the point I thought my life was over, that I wouldn’t get to know my little girl or grow old with her daddy. It’s been 3 years and my daughter is filled with excitement for a day she knows we celebrate. Of course that is only right, I wouldn’t wish these thoughts on her so I’ll slip on the mask that’s showing signs of wear and I’ll sing happy birthday because that’s what you have to do right? The time will come when she’s full of cake and happy memories dreaming sweetly in bed, when my mask can be removed and I’ll weep for a yesterday that remains so clear in my thoughts, for what it was and for what it could have been.

What birth trauma means to me. 

It’s about narrowly cheating death and worrying that death is still coming for you. That you’re afraid to die but want to die because the feeling is too overwhelming to want to live through. 
Feeling broken into millions of pieces and losing parts of yourself. Replacing those parts with a hangover of anxiety and utter sadness that you wonder if you’ll ever no what it’s like to feel like you again. Fear of sleeping because you no there will be nightmares again, fear of being awake because you’re living them. 

My pledge would be to ask health visitors to understand that ptsd doesn’t just happen to women within certain ‘vulnerable’ postcodes. That birth trauma doesn’t discriminate and as such regardless of postcode all women should receive close care to pick up on signs of this to enable early help. We’re not a lottery!

I was unconscious when I received my first lot of blood transfusions. Suffering from internal bleeding, following the birth of my daughter, undoubtedly the health care team were working hard to save my life. Dramatic as that sounds I probably would have had a very different outcome had it not been for the fact that blood was available and given to me on that day. 
I was still unwell but conscious for the final blood transfusions I received. Utterly exhausted I looked up at the bag of red slowly dripping into my body and noted on the label the date the blood was donated. It was my birthday, two weeks previous.

I do not imagine that the person generously giving blood on this day knew it was my birthday or knew that in a couple of weeks their blood would be given to me as one of the best gifts imaginable. Nor will they ever know personally how grateful I and my little family are to them for it. Truly the most amazing birthday gift!
You honestly never know when you’ll need blood. I certainly didn’t expect to need it and so much of it! So if you can, and most of you could, please please donate.

Oppressive thoughts and dark days was how my journey began. Nightmares and flashbacks came thick and fast but then I saw your hand. 

You reached for me in my darkest hour seeing the tears I cried. Did you know you saved this girl, a life I can now justify. 

With hand held tight you guided me through what became my longest walk. The journey was hard, there is no doubt but I hold dear all of our talks. 

I cannot express just what your unfaltering support has meant to me. Because of you my strength has grown tenfold and I am becoming the person I longed to again be. 

Now our journey together is coming to an end I’ll always remember you. Through the positive steps and decisions I make are because you taught me how-to. 

Tonight the Christmas tree looks a little brighter and the air feels a little clearer. Today is a good day. For this I am grateful. 

Tonight the song I can hear is a little happier and the water I sip tastes a little fresher. Today is a good day. For this I am appreciative. 

Tonight the hand I hold is a little looser and the way I stand is a little taller. Today is a good day. For this I am beholden. 

Tonight my mind feels ready to move on and now’s the time to let it go. Today is a good day. For this I am thankful. 

Tonight my senses and my sense are my own but without you, tonight would not have come so soon. Today is a good day, because of you. I am whole. For this I will always hold you dear.