We did receive and feel a lot of support from our friends and church during the months of Georgie’s hospitalisation, his stay in the children’s hospice and after his passing. People were overwhelmingly kind. Getting meals ready. Looking after Emma. Getting people to clean our house or doing it themselves. Sending us flowers. Putting money together to see us through the rough months. Paying for our rent. Buying wee mementos in Georgie’s memory. But unfortunately not all people got it, our need to grieve at our own pace, once Georgie passed away. Surprisingly, it was family members doing or saying the wrong thing that shocked us. And also, members of certain churches who live under the “prosperous Gospel” doctrine who literally ran away as soon as Georgie passed away. Too much of a dose of reality for them, I suppose. I woke up on Friday morning to a shockingly upsetting email from a relative. I will not shame the person or myself by putting it here, the message that was sent to me. But I …

Since Georgie died I have felt the need to empathise more with people and their suffering. This need was overwhelming in the beginning and I had to learn to pace myself and realise that no matter how much I would love to help everyone and with every need, I can’t. But the few concrete things I did in memory of Georgie were: 1. Raising awareness among friends and blog readers and getting the swab test sent out in order to get on the DeleteBloodCancer.org.uk register. Georgie’s form of cancer was very aggressive and unfortunately he didn’t even make it to the stage when he would have needed a bone marrow transplant. But other children and adults suffering from leukeamia do. I would be floored and totally honoured if I get matched up with a person in need. It would be the most fantastic legacy I could leave in Georgie’s name. 2. Making myself transparent and vulnerable through my blog and my writing in order to encourage others to live a life true to themselves. 3. …

Everyone needs a bit of joy in their lives and motivation to get out of bed in the morning. Ever since we lost Georgie, I have found mornings difficult. Waking up to face the day feels at times overwhelming. So…I create. I create beautiful lunches for Emma to take with her to school. I create links with the past by carrying or wearing a reminder of Georgie’s existence every day, to give me courage and feel him near. And I also create through my writing, when I feel the need and find the time: “Once upon the time, there was a pack of biscuits(or two…or three…). They were sent for reviewing to a mummy blogger who decided their ephemeral life should go down in history as the “adventures of Billy Biscuit.” So, instead of being shoved in and munched on unceremoniously, these privileged biscuits got to accompany her everywhere and have a glam and useful existence. Some of them got consumed reverently on a Sunday morning, during the slightly too long and less than entertaining …

What were the main sources of comfort when we first became bereaved parents? Well, for me, in the first place, was and still, very much is, my faith. I have had many, many questions in regards to the “whys” of our loss. I still do. Why our baby? Why in this way? Why did most people suffering of cancer from our church got healed but our baby didn’t? Why this form of leukaemia and not a milder, curable one? Why was he only given five and a half months of life? Why us? I also have a lot of anger. I get angry with God over these unanswered questions. I then get angry with Emma and scream hurtful things I don’t mean at her. I get angry with Alex and withdraw into my hard, impenetrable shell. I get angry with people and their “blessings”, their “luck”, their “good fortune.” But despite it all, I haven’t lost my belief in an after world. An after life. Where there is glory and singing and joy. And light. …