A hearty matter

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The Orchard 28.08.16

Two years ago today I had my 12 week scan, and went home with a lovely grainy photo of Freddie sucking his thumb. I think I blogged that evening, unable to quite comprehend the blossoming life nestled in utero. I’m still amazed, that my precious boy grew inside my tummy and found his way out. More’s the point, how is that 2 years ago? I can tell you what I was wearing, how nervous I was that day …. and how relieved when the chugging of his little heart was heard. This week that little foetus has learnt to shake his head in answer to questions. Are you tired Freddie? Always provokes a strong shaking of the head, even if he falls asleep shortly afterwards! It’s such a delight to see him engage with his toys and friends, and to learn new things. There could be no love any greater or any stronger. My boy, my precious little boy. He’s sleeping beside me as I type, and as I look across at him, I am overwhelmed with the maternal protection and wonder I have held for him since he splashed into the birthing pool. Life; how miraculous and yet how fragile.

Tomorrow we are off to Wales with a friend and her little boy – this 5 day break is so needed. My poor Father remains incarcerated in hospital until a suitable heart is found. [It’s okay to have a different outlook on fatal traffic accidents, right?] He had a false alarm a week ago today; when a match was found but the heart wasn’t healthy enough to go ahead. We visit regularly; he now has a room of his own with a view of the hospital helipad. I’ve loaned him Freddie’s iPad so he can teach himself to use it [with the help of written instructions from me] – my Uncle is keeping him stocked in suitable reading material, and he seems remarkably positive. I’m sure there is a fear, loneliness and much thinking, that goes on in the long hours outside of visiting. I bumble along with my PollyAnna hat on. They will find him a heart; they have to. This Grandpa needs to be playing with his Grandson, picking apples in the orchard; kicking a football on the lawn. For every week Grandpa is held hostage on Ward 304 of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham; my Freddie is missing out on time with a man who loves him so very much.

So I shall go to sleep next to my baby, and report back after our break. Never have I needed a week off more; and when we return we collect out kitten; Percy Pickle.

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