I think it would be easy to complain. Easy to moan or yell out why me. Why after 9 months of protecting you, getting to bring you home and cuddle you so tight did I have to give you back? Why is life so unfair?
I had no choice in Lexi’s death. I had no choice when a few days after she died I was told a post mortem would be carried out. The months I had spent nurturing Lexi’s tiny body as she had grown we’re going to be cut, examined and analysed. There was no choice. No option to leave our tiny girls body in tact and as beautiful as it always should have been. We had no choice as investigations and inquests began. No choice on when we could bury Lexi. We had to instead wait weeks and weeks for the coroner to release her precious body to us for us to bury. Lexi would have been 6 weeks old when we finally lay her to rest.
For all the choices I have been denied I have a choice in how I continue to live my life. A choice in whether I allow bitterness, anger and hatred to take over. A choice in whether I get up and out of bed each day. At the moment I am lucky I feel in control of that choice. I feel I can decide to try to take each day as a gift. I have known the darkness of depression from the time I was ill with fibromyalgia and know that depression, grief and a multitude of other things can rob us sometimes of that choice. I thankfully with the help of my family, friends and psychologist am trying to keep my head in a positive place. And while I try to navigate through all the things I never chose, I feel strength from choosing to see the beauty in life.
I saw a friend had posted this on Facebook, a poem by Rudy Francisco called Complainers. I must have watched it 100 times just today. At the moment I’ve got tonsillitis. I’ve not felt this ill for years. I’ve been forced to spend a few days in bed. And it’s given me great perspective. “I am alive!”
Taken from Rudy Franscisco’s poem Complainers
“When the world crumbles around you, you have to look at the wreckage and then build a new one out of the pieces that are still here.
Remember, you are still here.
The human heart beats approximately four thousand times per hour.
Each pulse, each throb, each palpitation is a trophy engraved with the words “You are still alive”.
You are still alive.
Act like it.”
Anytime I feel like complaining I’m going to watch this video. Not to trivialise the everyday complaints we all have in life. But to help me find perspective. To let me know that I am lucky. I am lucky to have two healthy children, a husband I love with all my heart, a family who have shown me they would do anything for me and friends who would drop everything for me if I needed them. To remind me, despite me wishing I could have traded places with Lexi and given her a chance to live a long life, that I am lucky to be alive.