Looking like a true survivor.  Well,  Elton had it pretty bang on didn’t he?  The truth is, when I launched this little blog this time last year, I had no idea that it would be so needed.  Not just for me, for my sanity and to express many of the emotions I had kept to myself, but for all of the other women, the survivors, who have contacted me over the past year.

I know that sounds like a statement of relief, but it’s really not.  I feel as if “Another Year Done” is a huge tick in the metaphorical box of life, a massive achievement on our part.  I am not one to wish time away, quite the opposite; but I knew from the start that I had to be kind to myself in 2017 and so getting through it feels epic.  This time last year I felt utterly miserable; I honestly couldn’t see the wood for the trees.  I couldn’t fathom how, after Teddy had already died, we could go on to lose another baby; our rainbow.  Life was feeling incredibly, dare I say, unfair; and I wanted things to turn around for us so desperately.   I recall the walk we took on New Years Day, as we do every year; and I remember us saying to each other that this year, 2017, it had to get better.  Let’s face it, I don’t think it could have got much worse.

Opening our doors to friends in December has become a bit of a tradition.  With my husbands birthday in December, I always feel like we are doing the age-old “two birds with one stone” (he won’t thank me for that!) by welcoming friends in to celebrate both.  It’s that time of year when I want to ensure we make the time to see everyone, and having a birthday celebration on top of the usual festivities gives us the perfect excuse to get everyone together for an evening of fun and laughter!  This year, rather than doing our usual drinks and nibbles at ours, and then off out for dinner; I took the plunge and said I would go the whole-hog (not literally) and host.

I think we probably all know the answer to this one, but I just had to write this post.  I cannot quite believe we are approaching our second Christmas without Teddy.  This time two years ago he was still safely tucked up in my seventeen week bump.  I can remember feeling so blissfully happy, so excited for what lay ahead.  I kept saying to my husband, “This time next year…”  I pictured us with a bouncing seven month old; negotiating our first festive season as new parents.  The reality of last Christmas couldn’t have been further from that dream.  I remember never having felt less festive in my life; but I was trying, oh how I was trying so hard.