9th of November

I’m starting my day with gratitude, woken in a much better mood than of late. I was aware almost immediately of an orangey-pink light surrounding my room. I’d slept past sun-up and what majesty the sunrise had brought.

Pink sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning, but impossible to ignore how pretty it is. On taking my usual perch at the breakfast bar —sounds posh, doesn’t it? I live in a two-up, two-down Victorian Terrace, so not really posh, but it’s my little slice of heaven—I look out to admire the colours straight away.

I spot the Daddy Robin, impossible to miss his resplendent chest. He, I think it is a he, is hopping around pecking at leftovers from yesterday’s bird food offerings. Given the size of his splendid puffed-out chest, I think he’s doing well for food. After he’s had his fill, he takes a perch on the gate and sits a while.

It’s nice to think maybe he and I are doing the same thing: taking a moment to take in the beauty and calm of the morning.

Reflecting on My Story

I’m reflecting on my post yesterday. I have a mixture of feelings. Partly, it felt cathartic to write about my experience with having a stillbirth.

This is an uncomfortable topic for many people, but this is part of my life, a part of the picture of who I am, or more, what led me to living life certain ways. This isn’t something I talk about much. I don’t need to talk about it, but it is part of who I am, part of my history. If I want to talk about it or at least just make a simple statement about it, that is up to me.

I felt extremely anxious after posting, but I don’t now. It is part of my story, and I don’t expect or even want people to say anything back. I understand people fear saying the wrong thing, and they need to feel rest assured. They need to say nothing. Send me a mental hug 🙂

Society is so much better at having open conversations about mental health now. I like to think we’re progressing on other once-taboo topics too. If I had opened up more, especially just afterwards, and then for many, too many years, I expect I would have lived my life differently or at least got help much sooner.

I do urge anyone who experiences stillbirth to contact Sands or any organisation that helps with the loss of a child. I can only talk about my own experience, but it ate away at me for years and years and years—decades, in fact. My girls, Buttercup and Charlotte Daisy, will always be a part of my life.

I made this recently in their memory after finally reaching a point where I can mostly think about them without pain or reaching for a glass of red.

The Call to Solitude

And on to the card of the day: it’s my old familiar, The Hermit. I don’t know about you, but once the nights are drawing in, I find it very easy to barely leave the house. I made a point of telling friends the other day that I was taking a bit of time out. I wouldn’t be making plans for weekly tea or anything else.

I’ll be going on a day trip to Brighton for my son’s graduation and seeing the Bristol family next weekend. But after the day’s exciting trip out to the Garden Centre with the lovely gang from my business course, the shutters are down. Into myself I shall retreat for a while.

I could be a Hermit all the time. It takes effort for me not to be, as I’m an introvert. Hermit ways come easily—I’m a double Virgo. The trick is knowing when to gently put the hermit away and make sure I remain out in the world.

• Liz Dean says: Reflection. Healing. Discovery.
• Sarah Bartlett: Search for inner wisdom, wanting to be alone.
• Tina Gong: Solitude. Withdrawal. Retreat.

Well, there’s absolutely nothing controversial or Food For Thought here. If I was to have looked through the cards to pick one out, this is the card I would have gone to today without any hesitation. My only niggle is that I still don’t have a really cosy comfy sofa or chair to spend my Hermit time snuggled into. It’s much more of a mental process, but it’s physical too. I really should do something about this! Maybe next week….