Strolling beats slogging…

I feel like I have started to stroll, again. Things are still hectic, I think any mum of a toddler will agree that our pace of life isn’t strolling, more like sprinting with no end in sight (where the fuck is the ribbon?) But I have noticed my attitude has become a bit more stroll like. You know, a bit more: take it in my (strolling) stride, rather than not take it, refuse it, deny it, scream, drag it around and kick it until I have no choice but to add it, under protest, and feel weighed down by it while refusing to stroll, stride or sprint, just slog.

I have noticed recently that, without reason, I feel confident, I know who I am, who the new me post Cacia is, I am enjoying life again without it feeling forced, I have left behind the slog and am now firmly into strolling territory. I am making plans for the future, without the thought of what if I am pregnant plaguing me (likelihood is I won’t be!), I am making plans not because I know I should (because it’s normal?!?) but because I want to. 

I know that the strolling won’t last forever, maybe it won’t last another week, but I can only hope that I continue as I have done for a little while now, have more days strolling than slogging. I survived the loss of my daughter, and now I am no longer just the inadvertent survivor but the advertent survivor. I want to live life, enjoy it, be part of it again, I know who I am and where I fit in my new reality of third child infertile mother to two, one alive and one dead. So for now I am strolling, I have finally accepted my reality and am living again, and I love it.

I have realised that if it is only ever just the three of us, then I am pretty lucky, and we are enough. Yes, it upsets me (one of four siblings) that Tyrant will not have siblings to grow up with, rely on, fight with and love (and hate), but at the moment it isn’t possible naturally or through other means (surgery, adoption or surrogacy). So, until the next slog hits I am enjoying my stroll through life, long may it last. 


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