So i was in hospital for 3 nights all together. My sister in law came to visit me and brought me a pot of white roses. I loved it… it was so nice of her to do that. It really did brighten up my day.we talked for a while about anything and everything. She did her best to try and make me better and for that I am forever grateful even if I don’t tell her that.
I continued taking my medication there and when I left for about 2 weeks and after that I didn’t need to take anymore. When I left I was glad to be going home in a way but I was also scared/fearful because coming home meant facing reality, coming home meant I had to talk to people and see people I didn’t want to see. People try and do their best I get that but people coming to my house is something I didn’t want. I just wanted to be left alone without having to talk to people I didn’t care to see. It was my right to be selfish and not want people there. I especially did not want people who didn’t want to be there but felt like they had. Coming home also meant I would leave my baby behind. I wouldn’t see Diego everyday, I wouldn’t be awake for hours just trying to make him calm down, I wouldn’t be exhausted because he was up every 30 minutes, I wouldn’t see him sleeping in his bed at home next to mine and so many other things. That… That’s what rrally hurt, knowing I couldn’t bring him home. Knowing he will always be in my heart and in my mind forever but never in my arms. I know he wasn’t hurting he was safe and nothing bad would ever happen to him. But the hurt in my heart, the pain in my chest, I will never forget that. It’s something that will forever stay with me.
The day I came home from the hospital my husbands friend asked him to drive him to London so he could buy a car. I felt angry with him for asking just a few hours after we had to face the real world. We were still recovering. My husband doesn’t know how to say no to people who ask him to do things so he said he would take him. As it turns out he didn’t just want to go to London it was further away nearly 3 hours away instead if 1 hour. I went with my husband because he didn’t want to go just with his friend and even though all I wanted to do was stay at home he wouldn’t let me. We got up early the next day and took him to where he wanted to go. So after he buys his car he says ok let’s go back.
My husband knew how much I loved the sea so since we were 5 minutes away he told his friend he could go and we would go after. It was a really nice day. We walked by the beach just us relaxing and for a moment trying to forget. We went to a sea life place and saw all the fishes they had. We walked by the beach and asked some people there to take a picture. We had fresh fish and chips on a place overlooking the sea. We had a coffee and an ice cream on a place across the street frim the sea. It was really nice (and I know it makes me bad for saying it) but I kind of forgot for a while. But then we had to come home and the penny dropped, I had to go back to reality. Back home where everyone looks at you in a way that makes you hurt more, where people will ask questions and judge you and make it seem like it was your fault somehow. Our litle day away was so nice I suggested that we stay the night in a local bed and breakfast I realize I was doing that to avoid going back and no matter how long I stayed away everything was still going to be the same. My son wasn’t going to be with me. I had to go and register him but instead of him being with me everywhere I went I had to go home and plan his funeral. Something I hoped I never had to do for my son. It wasn’t easy when you have no idea what you are doing or what the best thing to do is. We did not have the support I had hoped we would have, we didn’t know what to do. That hurt and prolonged the hurt even longer.