It felt so deliciously peaceful just floating there in the nothingness. The noisy mind-chatter all but disappeared, I was happily allowing myself to drift off to sleep, enjoying the half-way-ness of being here, there and nowhere in particular. It was Thursday 9th August, and I was staying in Gloucester with my dear friends Sarah and Kevin. With me was Patrice, a wonderfully kind and loving Frenchman that I have been seeing for a few months. I'd been rather distant with him for the past few days, and was concerned that I didn't understand my feelings towards him. I'd been pondering our relationship as I dozed off to sleep, and that was the moment when she came to me.
I sensed her way before I saw her, feeling her presence floating up from somewhere below me... a rich, deep soul filled with love and laughter. And then, down to my left, a beautiful pair of treacle brown eyes appeared in the distance. They were searching - open, smiling, but not quite certain. I looked down to meet her gaze, and smiled at the mass of unkempt chocolatey curls that framed the most beautiful face. She stopped moving towards me when I smiled and just stayed there, hovering, questioning - was she shy? Was she nervous? Looking in to her eyes, I somehow knew what she was asking. In the silence that hung between us I told her "It's OK. I've got you. You're safe" Her smile broadened, and I felt the most enormous surge of love and connection between us. I asked her who she was. It was unclear at first, but slowly the letters appeared and the sounds formed.... Maddy. She let me know that her name was Maddy. And that she loved me.
The following day, two clear lines in the window of the tester stick confirmed what I already knew to be true. That at the age of 47 I was four weeks pregnant.
"I knew I was!" I burbled to Sarah, who was there with me - and who actually checked the result for me because I'd been too nervous to look myself! "I just knew it! What on earth am I going to do?" Screams, questions, tears and an overwhelming sense of joy danced and crashed around together inside me, and I burst in to tears. I knew instantly that any idea of termination was out of the question, so it was a matter of getting used to the idea and finding out how I really felt. Sitting on a bench outside just a few moments later, I called my friend Anna in France. Checking first whether she was sitting down, I blurted out the news. "You'll never believe it... But I'm pregnant!" And with that it all became real. She was the first person I had told the news to - and now that the news was shared, it made it reality. Although the tears were flowing and I was still shaking with the shock, Anna's response brought a smile to my face "Well, what a wonderful gift" she enthused "and you and Patrice will make wonderful parents!"
Patrice was overjoyed with the news - surprised, yes, but absolutely delighted. The more I got used to the idea, the happier I became. Me, a mother again, when I honestly thought any possibility of producing a sibling for Dylan was way behind me. I felt incredibly blessed, and determined to to everything possible to protect the little soul that was growing inside me.
A couple of days later I returned to France, and collected Dylan from the train station. He'd been staying with friends and of course I hadn't wanted to tell him the news until we were face to face. Naturally concerned about how he may react, I was overjoyed to find that he was as happy as me - he was delighted by the idea that he was going to be a big brother! I knew the baby was a little girl, and I shared with Dylan my story about Maddy - far from being sceptical, he gave me the hugest cuddle and said he was looking forward to meeting his sister. My own sister was also pleased for me, and with every passing hour I felt more filled with joy and wonderment as the miracle continued to unfold in front of me.
Then just last Wednesday, and with no warning, I started to bleed. Only a small amount at first, but then quickly building as the cramps set in. I was losing Maddy. It was the same day that Dylan was packing to leave home, and it felt to me that I was losing two children in one fell swoop. It may make little sense, but although I had only known I was pregnant for less than a week, it felt like my entire world was falling apart. That evening, together with Patrice, I sobbed and wailed for my unborn baby. I had never appreciated the pain of a miscarriage - both emotional and physical - and simply was not prepared for the strength of overwhelming sadness that hit and hit again with relentless force.
"I don't know what bloody contract my soul signed before I was born" I sobbed to Ruth and Anna who had come the moment I realised what was happening "but I clearly didn't read the flippin small-print! I just can't do this roller-coaster any more. I just can't..."
But of course I could. And I did. The past week has been, quite frankly, absolutely ghastly. I dealt relatively quickly with the emotional onslaught, but physically it's been just horrid. I had never appreciated just how debilitating it is to experience a miscarriage, and my heart bleeds for those women who lose unborn children at a much later stage than my relatively insignificant four weeks. My body doesn't know what it's doing, my hormones are all over the place, and I am physically and emotionally exhausted.
As with everything else, though, this experience has brought me unexpected gifts. I have learned so much - about myself and the wonderful people who are around me - and I feel more blessed now than I did before Maddy's appearance. She has brought this to me, and while I may never hold her in my arms, I will always hold her in my heart.
Now I know without doubt that Patrice and I have a real chance of creating a wonderful future together. There is no need for me to hide or be scared anymore - he's not Cam. And he's going nowhere. On paper it may seem an unlikely proposition - he doesn't speak a word of English, he's 11 years younger than me, and until a couple of weeks ago had never left the country. But at the same time, he's the kindest, most gentle and genuine person I've ever met - and we get on like a house on fire.
As well as that, I also know that despite my age, I would very much like to have another child. Whether or not it's going to be possible, who knows. The hospital has already warned me of the dangers of pregnancy for older women - both for mother and for child. But hey, life's about love, miracles and hope isn't it? And goodness knows I'm now ready and willing to accept and experience all of the good stuff.
So, now my focus will be on looking after myself - properly. And that means shifting some weight, taking up exercise, eating healthily and allowing myself to be loved and cared for by a man who may just possibly turn out to be the person I grow old with. And with a bit of luck, we may yet be able to welcome a new soul in to the world.
Thank you, Maddy, my beautiful brown eyed girl - in such a short period of time, you've had a profound effect on my life. I love you.
Re-worded for Lovefraud, link here
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
This week I saw a quote on Facebook that spoke to me loud and clear “Keep shining, beautiful ones. This world needs your light” – because it immediately made me think of everyone here on Lovefraud. I imagined each and every beautiful person who reads and contributes to the site, and as I did so, my heart warmed and prompted a smile… and moist eyes.
Why did I think of this community? Because I truly believe that our experiences ultimately help all of us to shine more brightly as a result. At the same time, I fully appreciate that this notion may still seem to many to be a long way off, or even an impossibility to some people here – perhaps that was what prompted the tears? Well, that together with an overwhelmingly strong (yet clearly unrealistic) urge to reach out and show those people the future. A future where you are reclaimed and reconnected with your beautiful true self – and burning brightly as a beacon of hope that helps others find their way out of the darkness.
Blessings In Disguise
For three and a bit years since I realised that my ‘dream’ relationship was a nightmare in disguise, I have come to the place where I view my encounter as a blessing. Blessings that, at the time, were heavily camouflaged... absolutely. Painful beyond description... heck yes. Soul-shatteringly destructive, leaving me broken, exhausted, humiliated, knocked out, wiped out and on the floor... yep, you got it. Words, it appears, particularly now as I look back over what happened, seem totally inadequate when describing the hollow darkness of the weeks and months that followed my own discovery.
Like so many of us here, how can any living person be expected to function after their soul has been ripped out, stamped on and thrown out with the rubbish – whilst at the same time realizing that the architect of their downfall has been smirking during the whole process…? When explaining my own experiences, people have asked me how I survived. I remember asking myself the same question myself at my lowest times – I also remember sinking so far down that I even considered the alternative to survival….
The thing is, though, I have come to realize that if people can live through such horrendous times (and all of us here on the site are indeed living – although some days may actually feel like ‘barely hanging on by a thread’) then surely…. surely… as we come through the other side we must come to truly appreciate the strength of our spirit, and be proud of who we are? Surely we must reach a place where we can recognize the energy, focus, determination and love it took to come through…?
The Inner Light
I have noticed that there is a light that comes from people who have successfully overcome adversity – in any shape or form, large or small, physical or mental. Yes, they also carry the battle scars, of course. But the thing that speaks most clearly for me is the determined light that shines from within. It shows in their eyes, and it can be heard in their voice. There is something subtle, inviting, and thoroughly human about these people that cannot help but inspire.
We only have to look at the upcoming Paralympics to recognize the shining light of determination and passion in every athlete who has worked to overcome physical difficulties. On the other hand there are countless newspaper stories about people who have survived murder attempts, wars, violence and all manner of human cruelty. People who have subsequently gone on to live fulfilling lives and who quietly encourage others in the process. Then there are the ‘everyday angels’ – people who put themselves out to care for others who are in need. There are also survivors of life-threatening diseases. Then there is everyone here in the Lovefraud community – and others like us. People who are in various stages of waking up to the nightmare… and journeying through to the other side.
It’s true, I know, that not everyone makes it this far – so already we are the lucky ones. And as we continue sharing our stories, supporting and guiding each other, and helping to educate others… so we continue to heal and we continue to become brighter. As I said in last week’s post, we are the ones who know, who ‘get it’ and who are already reaching out to others facing confusion and pain at the hands of a disordered personality – whatever the relationship.
It was reading though the countless posts and comments on this particular site in 2009 that helped me to make sense of the madness. That helped me realize I was not alone. That prompted me to find out as much as I possibly could about the little understood subject of sociopathy. Even though I could feel the pain in so many of the comments, at the same time I also felt inspired that people were able to share their experiences, and reach out to others for help and support.
It was this very community who, three years ago, played a major role in saving my life and easing me back on track. Your lights were shining strong to me then – your examples showed me the way, and you continue to shine today. Thank you.
I am deeply grateful for being a part of this community. And I know beyond any doubt that we are all beautiful. I also know that in our own ways each of us are indeed already shining our light, helping to brighten a world that is crying out to awaken from the darkness.
So.... Keep shining, beautiful ones. This world continues to need your light.
With love, light and gratitude to all :-)