Going Home

Home. I'm not sure where it is anymore. The cliche is "Home is Where the Heart Is," but what if pieces of your heart are scattered all around the world? And other pieces are no longer here?

I guess technically my home is Canada, and has always been Canada, but the longer I lived in the UK, the more my heart grew to love it there. The history, the culture, the attitude of the people - it began to feel as much like home as Canada, and possibly even more so.

When I met my husband and it was quickly apparent that we would end up spending our lives together, I knew that he would be my family and where he is would be my home. We adopted Jacob and became a little family. We got married, and things solidified even more. And then we moved to Italy and found out we were expecting Finley, and because that was his home, it began to feel like home for me too. We were a family, and my family was my home. I felt complete.
 

After Finley died, everything changed. I wanted to leave Italy because of all of the reminders. The entire country reminded me of my little Italian son and it hurt so much.

I'm now back in Canada, without my husband, without Jacob and without our son. I can't wait until the day that we can all be back together without fear of having to live apart (always without Finley though). We are a few months away from all being together again for good, but the time is moving me towards togetherness.

And today, TODAY, I will be flying home. Home to my little family. And I am happy.

The only sad part of this trip will be flying into London after yesterday's events. My heart grieves with the British. But at least I will be where my heart is <3

Can not wait to see these two.

RIP Soldier

Today a man believed to be a serving soldier in the British Army was brutally attacked on a street in Woolwich, London in broad daylight. He was run over and hacked to death with machetes and meat clevers close to where he was thought to be serving at the Royal Artillery Barracks.

I myself am not British, but as a lot of you know, my husband serves in the British Army. This attack has taken me completely off guard, and has left me feeling incredibly unsafe. It seems absolutely unacceptable to me that a British man who chose to serve his country was not safe walking down the streets in Britain. It feels like not enough is being done to keep our serving personnel safe. They are being attacked in foreign countries by supposed allies while attempting to give independence back to the people there. They are being attacked on their home soil, where there isn't a war going on. If our soldiers are not safe at home, then what is the point of any of the fighting?

Perhaps I'm allowing this to hit too close to home, but it scares me that this could have been my husband or the husband of one of my friends. It scares me that it could be somebody that we know, or somebody that our friends know. It terrifies me that our communities and people are being targetted by these extremists.

Looking through my facebook feed, there is post after post of comments, both by military families and civillian families. People are not happy and I don't think that the British population are going to let it lie. Not that they should. This nameless soldier is one of them: Brit, son, brother, husband, friend. He is certainly somebody's everything, and my heart is completely broken for those who will receive the news that this was their loved one.

I am well aware that it is impossible to blame a country or race or religion for these attacks. I know how incredibly hard it must be to differentiate between those who are innocent and those who are capable of committing such a heinous act on another human being.

I'm not much of a political person and I don't care about what religion people follow or which race people are. We are all people trying to get by and make a life for ourselves. And yet it feels as though something has to give. It seems that more and more terrible things are happening every day, and people, I'm sure, are beginning to live in fear of what could happen.

Walk down the street - get hacked to death

Run a marathon - get bombed

Attend a Mother's Day parade - get shot

Send your children to school - they die

Go to see a movie - shot to death from behind

Does nobody else find it absolutely appalling that nothing is sacred? Lives are being needlessly taken in the name of God or country. I know it's so cliche, but why can't we all get along? Live and let live. I don't care if you want to worship your god or nature or your mobile phone, so why does it matter so much to others to be 'right'?

Nobody is going to win this war. It's not a battle that has a destinctive winner and loser. Everybody loses because it just carries on back and forth. You kill my brother, I'll kill yours. An eye for an eye as one of the instigators of today's attack said on video. But where do we draw the line? At what point do we value the lives of our loved ones enough to say enough is enough?

I have no answer, I don't know. But today, I am sad.

Blog Makeover

Well I think my blog transformation is nearly complete. I'm really pleased with how it has come together, and rekindled a passion for design (I used to make websites back in high school - there are remnants of one still up). I wanted to create a space that's more geared towards general life as well as babyloss. Watch out for some new content.

I enjoyed revamping the blog so much. It gave me something positive to focus on and now I'm only sad it's nearly complete.

On that note - I'd love to practice a bit more. So I would like to offer up my services (for free) to design two peoples' blogs. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think of the new design and also if you'd like a blog makeover from me. If there is interest, I will set up a giveaway and work with whoever the winners are.

Well, I'm off to bed now. I would appreciate any feedback you have.

This Is Me

Okay, so today is a new day, and reading back on my post last night, I was being slightly dramatic.

I sometimes feel like I'm always being overdramatic, or that at least that's how I feel like people see me. "Why is she not over it yet? Why is it still so hard for her to see (or even hear about) pregnant women and babies? Why does she feel the need to spill her guts on the internet?" In my mind this is how I imagine that people feel. I sometimes wonder if people are getting sick of hearing about how sad I am that my son died - about how hard my life is.

And yet, I am sad. I would keep it all in and try to act normally, except that I can't. If I did I think I would explode from the enormity of the feelings. Big, horrible and scary feelings. Overwhelming and earth shattering feelings. And emptiness. So much emptiness.

So I guess I want to thank those of you who are still standing by me. Thank you for putting up with me even though I know you're probably getting sick of hearing me repeat myself over and over. Thank you for being there even though I am probably negative as often as I am positive (or even more than). Thank you for not pushing too hard for me to 'get better'. And I'm sorry if I make it hard to love me and be around me. I'm sorry that I'm not the same happy person that I was before. I'm sorry that I'm not as much fun.

I know I'm lucky to have so many amazing people in my life. I know that if I don't manage to conquer my anxiety about babies and pregnancy that I will end up missing out on some very sweet parts of life. I know that I should be happy for people who have their babies alive at home (and I am, but in a different way than I used to be). I know all of these things, but saying them and doing them are two entirely different things. It hurts.

I also know that the only way to survive this grief is to do what I'm doing. To share my feelings and my words and my son. I realise that not everyone would put themselves out there in such a vulnerable way - on the internet for anyone to see, but for me it helps. It helps to get it out. It helps to know that I can own my feelings and not be ashamed of them. People can read them or not. People can agree with them or not. But in the end, more good has come from blogging and the online community than harm. I will try to write more about the good days, because there are good days. It just seems I always feel like writing when I'm in a bad place. When I'm in a good place and enjoying life, it doesn't really cross my mind as much to sit and share it - I'd rather be out there living it.

So here I am. This is me.