Let me tell you that I love you…

I have been quiet because I slipped away for a wee break. I joined my Mum, sis, nephew & Sebby for the perfect seaside getaway. My sister found the most wonderful cottage by the sea and man alive did I need it.

We stayed on a tiny village with only a church, a corner shop & hotel. Oh & of course a stunning beach. The view from our patio was wow. It was the perfect place to take some deep breathes & refresh my head.

Cove beach surrounded by cliffs and cottages on hill

Add 24hrs with the boy to all that soothing scenery and you get a very happy ly. I did bath, bedtime and constant carry on. It was bliss. The little man is a total beach baby. He adores the seaside. Rain or shine he can’t wait to get his toes on sand. His doggy big brother can’t get enough of it either.

Sandcastles  on sunny beach

When the sun was out we built sandcastles, jumped waves & found big sticks. Followed by chilling on the patio whilst the sun went down.

Feet up on table  with seaview
Sunset over sea and cliffs

We didn’t let the rain stop us, though. We donned our waterproofs and headed to Cullen. The beach took my breath away. A wild deserted beach is my absolute favourite; the Moray Coast did not disappoint. I felt calmer & more centred on that wind battered beach than I have in months. With soft golden sand, dramatic rock formations and clear blue waves crashing on the shore it was blissful. My nephew was enchanted with the ‘fairy pools’ and couldn’t wait to do some splashing. Meanwhile Seb was able to run free.

Woman chasing toddler and dog on windy beach
Two women in anoraks sheltering on beach
ly in pink anorak with windswept hair in her face

Our encounter with nature over we headed into town to check out a magical antique store. It was packed with stunning pieces. Plus more than a few whimsical items to please a toddler.

Toddler in armoured helmet and looking at  Egyptian sarcophagus
Antique books

On our final night my sis & I decided to play some scrabble. We set up by the patio doors to enjoy the view while we got our words on. Mum enjoyed the real fire in the next room with a sleepy boys. I was very rusty, but still managed to just beat my sis. Don’t tell her I told you, she’s a tad competitive.

Dog asleep by fire and woman cuddled on sofa with toddler

To soften the pain of leaving we broke journey home at St Cyrus. We again found ourselves on a dream beach. I am continuously amazed at how beautiful Scotland is. I feel so very lucky to live here. St Cyrus is also a nature reserve, so if you’re interested water birds and wildlife it is an amazing place to visit.

Bridge with sign to the beach. Woman on hill
St Cyrus  Beach

Shining down on me…

I started last week with a trip to Edinburgh to do my first out of the house project in months. I have to be honest being out in the world was incredibly stressful. Until that point I had only really been out in parks, quiet streets etc. Bustling stations & city centres were a whole other deal. My train anxiety was through the roof. Thankfully, my hotel had taken every possible precaution. I was able to close my room door & breathe easy. I take my hat off to all you amazing folk who have been out there throughout this entire crisis.

Ly poses in white towel in hotel room
It’s not a hotel stay if I don’t get posey.

On my last day in Edinburgh I managed to catch up with my very favourite man. I found a bar with great socially distanced corner table & we had an al fresco tipple. The months of separation led us to lose track of time and gab for 8hrs. All that delightful conversation meant I got back to a deserted Glasgow. These days silent streets are my jam.

Glass of rose & pint of beer . Ly in black shirt dress with illusion tights.
Deserted Buchanan street with lots of bright lights

After a few days recovery I got back to my usual pursuits. Last Friday brought my first solo adventure with the boy. We fed some birds & discovered some new street art. Then it was time to find Mummy & hit the swing park.

Glasgow street art,  toddler feeding birds
Woman  screaming on child’s death slide
Mummies need a little play time too.
Glasgow street art, don’t you forget about me.

This week I returned to beavering away at home. I’m finding the transition to the next phase of lockdown tricky. I just cannot feel confident about what is safe & that leads me to continue to limit my activities. Outdoors is much more comfortable for me, especially in places controlling numbers. Thus, I was excited to take the kiddies to a farm park with strict pre booked admission. My sis & I teamed up with my bestie to get these two rascals together. We ended up missing most of the animals because they were having so much fun in pirate ships, digger parks, schutes & sandpits. The weather was perfect. It was such a good day that we had some tears at home time.

Plus size woman and toddler on a trampoline
Toddlers running up steps to a slide
Mirror selfie of ly in sheer dress & sunglasses.
Trying my best to remain a cool auntie.

When will they stop…

I used a hand sanitiser in a train station the other day. It was one of those super strong types that you find in hospitals. As soon as it hit my skin I was whisked back in time. For a second or two I was somewhere else. Somewhere I didn’t want to be.

The cold sensation drifted through my body. A zoetrope of mixed up images spun in my head. Blurry flashes conjured by the clinical scent. I felt dizzy. I sat down, took some deep breaths. It passed. I was grateful.

Blurry spinning image of trees & sky

It wasn’t entirely gone. That night the whirl of disjointed scenes dipped in & out of my dreams. Random words have jarred memories. My mind has wandered mid thought or conversation. I have felt the panic rising. Spells of forcing my head to connect with my physical reality have emerged. Struggling to focus on what I can actually see, hear, smell in this moment. Ignoring the feelings climbing my throat.

Tonight in the shower I couldn’t shake the feeling that the hot water streaming down my legs was blood. I couldn’t wipe the hospital aroma from my nostrils. Nor soothe the ache that spread from my back to my thighs. The hand sanitiser has triggered a reaction. My body is recalling the trauma stored deep within. It’s a phenomenon associated with PTSD known as body memories.

I haven’t experienced this symptom in quite some time. It lies dormant; rising unpredictably. Sometimes reacting to obvious & painful stimuli. Or, like this week, triggered by a tiny insignificant detail. My olfactory senses seem particularly attuned to old wounds.

New born baby feet with words birth trauma Association

This time it’s the initial loss. I feel my body failing. I know it isn’t happening. I have learned how to pull myself back to the here & now. Still, those moments when I’m dragged to the past feel completely real. I am not just thinking about unpleasant events. I am feeling them. My flesh & nerves & senses are reacting to something that happened 20 years ago.

Body memories are excruciating. It becomes a battle between what you know & what you feel. Fighting strong emotions is a challenge. When you add physical sensations grounding yourself is an onerous task. I have experienced these episodes replicating the sensations I felt during miscarriages & pregnancy. At times these physical memories are accompanied by flashbacks & other PTSD symptoms. Other times they occur in isolation. They mirror my actual experience so completely that I’ve found myself taking multiple pregnancy tests when I knew it was almost impossible for me to have conceived.

Sands logo

It’s another aspect of PTSD that I rarely see discussed in the mainstream. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is not only (or even mainly) associated with combat trauma. Yet, it’s the link most people draw. The violent outbursts in media portrayals of the illness are not accurate. New studies are highlighting how prevalent PTSD is in women who have experienced baby loss & birth trauma. For most of us, managing PTSD is an internal process. Distress may leak out, but the grind is with yourself. Accessing the right help, surviving that help (trauma therapy can be brutal), learning to manage symptoms, accepting the parts you can never fix & the impact they will have on your life.

It’s painful & exhausting & many of us never completely recover. To stand any chance of healing specialised therapy is essential. There are so many barriers to reaching that help. It can take years to obtain any psychological intervention without the resources to pay privately. Even longer to receive the specialised therapy that can actually help. So many people can’t afford to wait.

This month I’m supporting The Birth Trauma Association and Sands. Both organisations support families who have experienced trauma surrounding baby loss & birth. Please join me if you can.