Since resuming my blog, I’ve had an outpouring of writing (or rather overthinking!) and have realised I’ve posted around 20 new blogs in just two weeks! Yikes!

When I paused the blog some seven months or so ago, my mind had stopped knowing quite what to say. I’d managed to get Abi’s story down – that was essential to me – and that felt enough at the time (although I’ve since kept those detailed posts about her passing private). I needed to get on and live, and see how I managed. Now, my mind is chattering away to me with the many things that crop up. I recall thoughts and feelings clearly and the words just flow. Often one sentence in one post can lead to a whole new post.

I find blog posts such an easy way to express emotion… they are fairly short, sweet and simple. The focus is on each situation or thought, rather than a long, rambling mess… which is what I think a book would turn into if I tried to write one instead. But grief is like that… brief moments of thought that pick at you, sometimes leaving you feeling low, other times irritated, and also kind of grateful.

I’m conscious of the bombardment, but this is how my mind is working at the moment – some days I’ll have several things to say, others I’ll be quiet again. I’ve been carrying so much up there for so long, but I keep feeling an urge to get it out. Whether they are read or not is not the point, I share them because I believe people might be interested in reading them, not to focus more attention on myself, receive compliments or to garner sympathy. But my blog posts are what they are, and if they are read, great – essentially they are a place for me to dump some of the brain junk, and it’s only some of it!

I realise the art of blogging is not to overload your reader, but I’m also on a bit of a schedule with my baby being due soon. I feel compelled to get a lot of the gritty stuff down before he arrives, to clear some head space. I want to avoid my thoughts becoming too muddled after the birth and want to be looking forward with hope and not be too reflective on our terrible year.

The blog is helping me more than I thought it would. When I started it, it was more a way to share our story about Abi with friends without having to tell them individually and also to keep a sort of record of what we’d been through… Today, it gives me the head space I need in order to get on with my day. It’s a bit like writing a to-do list before you go to sleep. I also see that my writing might help others. I get moments when I’ll be having a deep conversation with someone and we’ll be agreeing on a point, and I’ll think how it would be great if more people could hear about it, so they too don’t feel like ‘the only one’.

However, this morning, I woke up and thought ‘my goodness, people know so much about me now, is this right?’ It’s not that I want everyone to know my business, I keep a great deal of private stuff private and I edit my posts several times before they are published. I’m trying to blog about life as a mum living with grief, not reveal my personal diary to the world. But if I find myself writing about something that I think other people could relate to or learn from in some way, then I see no harm in sharing it. Half the point of effective writing is to know your subject, to be real, be honest. I try to do that within my own boundaries and if there was something I didn’t want people to know then I keep it just for me.

By reading back on my blog posts, I can see how far I’ve come, or if I still feel the same. They reassure me that what I felt at one time was okay, and if my views have changed since then, that’s often a good thing. Crucially, they enable me to talk without speaking.

So, forgive the influx, I expect things will quieten down a lot soon while I adjust to being a new mum again, but I hope to continue my blog and, in the future, I see it as more a way of portraying how family life can change and adapt following the death of a child. How feelings may surface in ways I’ve yet to discover, which may be both joyful and sorrowful… who knows?

In any case, I hope what I have said so far has been either interesting or thought-provoking… and thank you for listening!