This is Me. The Seasons Change.

Autumn. A new school term. New beginnings. I remember as a child I always used to get excited about getting a new pencil case and a new shiny black pair of shoes.

In 2020, as millions of parents thank their lucky stars that finally their precious little ones are going back to school, I just wish my child was at home.

I get it. Months of juggling work with home schooling and trying to keep the kids occupied all summer whilst there's no respite. Parents of the Covid world I hear you. I imagine myself as an impatient mummy, and as much as I would love my little darlings, I'm sure I too couldn't wait to get rid of them.

But it still makes me feel irritated when people say they can't wait to get their kids out of the house. Overhearing two ladies in the butcher discussing the age and stage of their children and the schools they go to. One says, 'but maybe Hertsmere is going into lockdown and the schools will close again'. The other says, 'Don't say that!'. They just want peace and quiet.

But alI I have is peace and quiet.I like it that way sometimes. But the grass is always greener...

Just outside our house is a primary school and it's been empty for most of the year of course. But now the queue is around the block in the mornings and afternoons. It's driving me crazy - playtime with the noise of children chattering and shouting and the school pick up with baby siblings crying.

I understand why parents post proud photos of their kids on facebook on the first day of school. I hope one day it will be me. And I will post them, even when I know it will hurt some one else. You should know there will always be someone hurt by your posts. Whether it be a happy mothers day, a happy fathers day or something else. So there's no need to feel guilty. But God knows it hurts to know that we will never take that photo of Yaeli in her school uniform and post it up there.

And now Yaeli wouldn't be a tiny baby. She would be seven months old. She would be sitting in her high chair, playing with, sucking and probably throwing carrots, tomatoes or potatoes around. She would probably be crawling, mumbling and getting ready to say her first word at some point soon. And I should be taking walks with my two most local friends whose babies are now approaching four months old. So; as well as missing what Yaeli was when I met her, this is what I miss now. I miss the life I am not living and the things I will miss as she grows older.

Sometimes I just feel stuck. Stuck missing Yaeli and I want it all to stop. But all I can do is be grateful for what I have. I count my blessings when I go to sleep and wake up next to the love of my life. (You see, again that sentence will hurt someone out there). And I hope those who never experience child loss feel grateful every day, even if they get frustrated.

The changing season has really impacted on me the last few weeks as kids go back to school. It's highlighted again that the world keeps turning. I prepare to start volunteering and contemplate my return to work in the next couple of months.Thankful I have a job to return to of course. And I wonder if anyone else in similar shoes has felt like this as time moves on and seasons change.

I recently started contemplating how I 'should' feel seven months after losing my baby. 'Should' I feel better than I do? I've found solace in the fact that many people have told me it can take the whole of the first year to feel any semblance of resilience - and for some people longer. I don't know why I am concerning myself with this. I guess because I'm scared of breaking down in front of people I don't know and making them feel embarrassed.  But when I dig deep I think, is that really my problem? Can't we as a society learn that it's ok to cry (men and women). And it's ok to see someone hurting, to acknowledge it but not try to solve it, to ask questions or simply say 'sorry for your loss'.

And whilst these last few weeks have brought up new challenges and sent me to low depths once more, my hero of a husband has been both looking after me and channelling his feelings through training for a marathon in only 10 weeks. The official Richmond marathon he entered has been postponed - but his wonderful friend (who is a personal trainer) created and executed a wonderful route along the Thames in South London.

Ben completed a 26.2 miles Marathon in 3 hrs 57 mins, smashing his personal target and smashing our fundraising target. I could not be more proud. It was a wonderful day, albeit emotional. We are so grateful for all the love, support and donations. We are so pleased that we have now raised over £8000 (including gift aid) for five great causes - and hope that this money will be used to support so many other people who will sadly go through something similar to us. It warms us to know that from such sadness, Yaeli's legacy lives on and other people will be able to have counselling and support. It's so important that in those first few hours and days when a baby is born and parents are dazed, they are supported to make precious memories of their babies whilst in hospital. We also wish that fewer people go through what we have in the first place and are therefore supporting Tommy's vital maternity centres and research into stillbirth and miscarriage. Although, sadly and as I have said before, Yaeli's death was entirely preventable. So alongside all of the above we need better training, support and investment for midwives and maternity care in the UK so that mistakes that cost lives are fewer and far between.

You can still sponsor Ben if you'd like to and share widely within your networks. The page will close at the end of October.

https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-display/showROFundraiserPage?userUrl=BenjaminMeyer-Lewis&pageUrl=6

I know the pride and adrenaline I feel from this event will continue to bring a mixture of emotions in the coming days. I'm so proud of what we've achieved but yet so sad that we've been put in the position to do it. And so sad my Yaeli isn't here. But as the seasons change, I know the challenges will too.