Baby Love

What a week the world has witnessed! Waaayyyy too many topics up for discussion and unfortunately the majority of it is highly depressing and I don’t have the energy to attempt to decipher it. One story in particular gave me food for thought though, especially as it was my daughters 15th birthday on Saturday.

Being a parent was a choice I made knowing it wasn’t going to be easy, but you never really know how hard something is until you’re in the thick of it. Thankfully, I have so far been able to handle (just about!) what was bestowed upon me twice. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for many, some through no fault of their own, but others choosing to handle things in ways I will never understand.

I don’t remember giving birth to my daughter. Some may say that’s a good thing but for me, not so much. It wasn’t that I was high on drugs or so zoned out it became some sort of surreal experience, and I will explain fully another day, but the outcome was completely losing all memory of having her and being introduced to this little red-skinned cutie two weeks after having her and not instantly knowing she was mine!🙈

In fairness to myself, her sister was darker when she was born so I was expecting to see the same ok!! Jokes aside, I’m not sure if it was nature or nurture that kicked in but it took no time at all to bond with her. She was mine and I loved her. The fact that she was as chilled as you like was an added bonus but even if she wasn’t (take a bow firstborn!), it wouldn’t have mattered, she’s a baby I created – totally helpless, dependent and my responsibility. I wasn’t about to, or would ever intentionally, let anything bad happen to her and 15 years later things ain’t changing!

I know hate is a strong word but it doesn’t even come close to what I feel about adults that choose to abuse babies and/or children. I’ve recently had the pleasure of cuddling a couple of newborns and it makes my blood run cold that some could even think about causing something so tiny and precious harm. There are no excuses in my eyes and I was utterly disgusted at a story I read about an abhorrent couple named Jeffrey Wiltshire and Rosalin Baker.

They staged the death of their 16 week old daughter Imani, and made it appear she had fallen ill on a bus, knowing the poor child was already dead. By all accounts they are drug addicts, with 52 year old Wiltshire being the “father” of 25 children. He insisted he’s not a life taker, he’s a baby maker. Is that so? Well this baby maker left his daughter with 40 rib fractures, a broken wrist and terrible head injuries so I beg to differ. I can’t even imagine how you manage to fracture a 16 week old baby’s ribs 40 times let alone the rest.

How could they do it? Why? I get that a teenager might push you to the point of wanting to do damage sometimes but what could a baby have done to warrant all of that hurt and pain? Why couldn’t they give her up if they didn’t want her? I’ve got 21 questions and then some but all I know is I’m hoping that there is a special place in Hell for those two and their like and Imani’s soul finds the love that was missing on Earth.

If for whatever reason you can’t love the child you were blessed with do them a favour and find someone that will because they didn’t ask to be here. I’m not going to glamorise parenthood as the real deal parents will know it’s a bloody hard job but it can be so rewarding…(eventually) for some! You may not see it or feel it at first but the rewards come in many different ways.

Some people simply aren’t cut out to do the job but there are plenty of people out there who would happily do it for them if given a chance. Without trying to offend anyone religiously or otherwise, there are options if you find yourself with an unwanted pregnancy or a baby/child you cannot handle.

I don’t believe in abortion as a form of contraception but I do believe women should have the choice, especially if the pregnancy is the result of rape. If the pressure is too much after you’ve given birth, seek help! Ok, I said I’m not trying to offend but I’m straight up going to now. There are certain religions that will do you down for having an abortion, being unmarried or marrying out of their comfort zone, but turn a blind eye to the abuse and murder of children because their abusers wear cassocks and habits.

They will tell you how it’s unnatural and perverted for two men or two women to raise a child whilst fiddling the choirboys/girls on the side; but that’s not perverted at all!

For me parents are people who can provide love, safety and a sense of stability. I would rather a child be loved by unconventional parents than abused by the ‘norm’. I’ve heard stories of single people being turned down for adoption or fostering with the only reason being they are on their own. Why?

Isn’t it better for them to have the love of one than none? Imani had both parents and look what happened to her. I’ve said it before; just because you can make a baby it doesn’t make you a model mum or dad, and just because you can’t have one naturally it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be one. Here’s hoping the world wakes up some time soon.


R.I.P Ugo Ehiogu, Germaine Mason and all those who have lost their lives this week.

 

I Got You Babe, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Ha, Ha, Black Sheep!

I’m keeping it as short and sweet as an Easter egg this week as I’ve had a lovely weekend spent with family and would like to spend today doing the same.

I’ve previously touched on the subject of family and my perception of the word and my sentiment remains the same – being blood doesn’t mean a thing, it’s how you treat a person. (It’s A Family Affair)

Easter is one of the times of year I would usually congregate with my maternal siblings, not because of the religious aspect, but more a reason to spend family time together.

For the past couple of years those days have been done and dusted and yet you won’t find me bawling over my hot cross buns anytime soon.

Some folk are under the impression that you’d be at a loss without them in your life or you’re missing out by not being a part of their collective.

I was told by a sibling that I didn’t count as part of the family. You’d be forgiven for believing I’d done something atrocious but the reality is I just spoke the truth, which can hurt like a bitch, so therefore I must be one.

The truth can be too much to handle and rather than face it some take offence, deny and/or attack; that’s on them. In my opinion, I don’t care who you are, if I think you’re out of order or have a situation wrong I will say so with love, take it as you will, but I’m gon’ say it.

Their response to oust me from the family really doesn’t mean much as I have no interest in being associated with their type – they actually made it easier for me to not give a damn in the long run. #RealTalk

Yesterday I spent the day with extended family who I have more in common with and made me feel more at home than blood. I would rather spend my quality time with those on a level than with wolves in sheep’s clothing trying to pull the wool over my eyes any day of the year.

You can cast the black sheep out of the family but most times that just makes us happy bunnies. #JustSaying

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Happy Monday, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife


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Now You C Me (Part 6)

No apologies, this week I’m talking real shit! – like, literally. I’m quite sure that the majority of you have no idea that April is Bowel Cancer Awareness Month.

To be fair before my diagnosis I didn’t have a clue about it either, it’s not like it’s one of the more talked about diseases, but the reality is we all eat and we all poo so it could get you too!

One of the memories that Facebook shared with me this week was of the day I said goodbye to my locks – add to that my annual CT scan on Friday to check that things are still ok (🤞🏾) and there was only one subject I wanted to write about.

The most important reason why I wanted to talk about it is because if you listen to the statistics only you’ll be fooled into believing that you are safe if you’re below the age of 60. People are campaigning to lower the age of screening in England to 50 but that, for me, is still too high an age.

I was diagnosed at 39 after months of misdiagnosis and I’m lucky to be here, so would like to share my tale with you in the hope it may help someone else in the future. It’s not the nicest subject I grant you, and if you aren’t interested in the finer details you may want to stop now, but there really is no sugarcoating shit!

For me the first sign was a slight pain in my right side in January 2014 – kinda like a stitch. Nothing too major and not enough to warrant too much concern, but it would come and go at random times and when I wasn’t necessarily exerting myself.

It stayed the same for about a week, and then I realised it was less random and more constant. Now, I wasn’t the most ‘regular’ person to start with so wasn’t surprised when a few days had passed without me going for a poo, but when I did eventually go I noticed that there was a little blood and mucus when I wiped, (yes I look, and you should too!) That added with the pain I was straight off to the doctors sharpish. I was thankfully aware of the signs so didn’t think twice, in spite of my age.

I was seen at my surgery by a lovely lady who reassured me it was probably nothing but stood by protocol and referred me within 2 weeks to have a sigmoidoscopy. This is a procedure where they examine your large intestine through your rectum (Yeh, nice I know, but bear with me) and which, in my case, picked up nothing more than a couple of internal haemorrhoids which they put the blood and mucus down to.

That however, didn’t explain the pain which, during those weeks, had intensified further and painkillers couldn’t touch it. I went back to my doctor who agreed there was definitely something wrong but was unsure as to what it was and said she would try to arrange for me to have a CT scan for as soon as possible.

By the time of my first visit to A&E (pre scan), I was hardly eating and the pain was wiping me out. They checked me over, told me it sounded like IBS and gave me Buscopan and Co-codamol which did nothing.

I went back to the doctors and urged her to chase up my appointment, and a week later I had it done. I was working at the time but found myself having to take days off where I just honestly couldn’t function and all I wanted to do was sleep, but there was no reprieve in that either.

At this point the pain was coming in constant waves like contractions – I was in full on labour without the joy of a baby at the end of it! My second trip to A&E had me leaving with more of the same pills and this time a possible diagnosis of Chrohn’s disease or endometriosis. Marvellous!

A week later there were still no results and I was a hot mess. I took myself to A&E again to be told the same thing and that I’d have to wait for my scan results. That last trip was on Friday 16th May. On the Saturday I was unable to eat or drink anything and called an ambulance out.

I was assessed by the paramedics and told there was nothing they could do but prescribe me stronger pain meds until I could see my GP and get my results. They arranged for an out of hours doctor to give me Tramadol and it numbed the pain slightly but nowhere near enough. I dozed for most of Sunday and on Monday morning the real fun began!

Without exaggeration, I was fucked! The pain, no food and little water had knocked me for six, to the point of me being unable to catch my breath. My fiancé called an ambulance and I was taken to A&E where I was given morphine which was soon to become my bff!

Morphina, as she is now known, performed the miracle I had been looking for for 5 months – she freed me from my shackles of pain and it was thee best feeling on Earth!

I was severely dehydrated so they hooked me up to fluids and a few hours later I could actually remember what it felt like to be human again. It was bliss! – then they came with the fuckery.

Apparently, now I looked a little more perky, they were happy to send me home to wait for the results of my scan. Naturally I was a tad perplexed by their decision and told them so in no uncertain terms. There was no way in Hell I was leaving that place after a taste of the sweet relief Morphina had given me. NOT👏🏾A👏🏾CHANCE!👏🏾

I told them I’d waited weeks for the results and there was no way I’d be leaving there without a fight – call who the fuck you want, I AIN’T LEAVING! I’m guessing the mad glint in my eye was enough to let them know I was for real and they admitted me.

Surprise, surprise the next day I got my CT scan results which showed nothing but slight swelling around my appendix, but they knew my appendix wasn’t the problem as the pain had gone on for too long. There were signs from my bloods that something was amiss so they sent me down for an ultrasound where the brilliant radiographer proved she knew her stuff.

She said that my bowel looked twisted and suggested the surgeon have a look laparoscopically. I was warned that as it’s the bowel depending on what they find I might need a stoma bag but hopefully it would be straightforward. On Wednesday 21st May – exactly 6 months before my 40th birthday – I went down for surgery.

When I awoke I was told that they’d had a look laparoscopically and it was a bigger job than they’d expected, resulting in being operated on for 5 and a half hours to remove a third of my bowel.

They’d found “something” they wanted to check out so were sending it off for biopsy. Ever the realist, I asked the surgeon there and then to give me the real talk and asked him if it was cancer. He said he couldn’t confirm it without the results but he was more than sure it was. To be honest I was just relieved to know that they FINALLY had an answer.

It took just over 5 months to get me to diagnosis. By the time they’d operated on me my tumour was 6 inches by 3 inches, had spread from my bowel to my lymph nodes and was just about to make out with my liver.

They said had I gone home when they wanted to discharge me by the time they saw me again I would have been Stage 4. I questioned how my CT scan didn’t show anything at all and was told that upon taking a second look they could see it. Obviously I wasn’t too thrilled to hear that and I am now adamant they triple check my results – once bitten and all that.

They assured me had things not gone the way they did, the next step would have been a colonoscopy, which would have shown what the deal was as my cancer was in the large bowel which the sigmoidoscopy wouldn’t have picked up.

Quite frankly, that was little comfort considering the length of time it took to get my results let alone them missing a big, fat juicy tumour!

I’m not knocking the NHS as a whole, they do a great job and I’m thankful for them potentially saving my life, but a lot of areas could be improved which will be discussed at a later date! For now without sounding too preachy, I want to tell you to please listen to your body.

No one knows you like you. If you have an issue, no matter how embarrassing you may feel it is, if you truly value and appreciate life you will get it checked out – end of! It could be a minor, but it could also be something major so worth a once over at least. If you feel you are not being heard and they are fobbing you off persevere, shout louder, get second and third opinions if need be.

Look after yourself from the inside out and watch what you’re putting in your body. By all means indulge but moderation is the key.

I’m two years into my 5 year check up and awaiting the results from Friday. Who knows what will unfold but I’m keeping the positive vibe alive for as long as I can – I’ve got a lot more living to do yet!

Syria you’re still forever in my thoughts. Hoping there’s an end to the madness soon.

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Be Safe Rather Than Sorry!, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Time To Go And Time To Grow

Well!! It’s been a week of ups, downs and eye openers so no long thing today as I’m shattered!

A few highlights of the week have included paying my respects at a funeral, the day after that congratulating and celebrating the birth of a new princess to the family and the day after that I thought April Fools Day had come early, only to realise it wasn’t a prank but the joke is well and truly on them!

On Tuesday I attended the funeral of an old school friend. I didn’t see him that often but when we did bump into each other, no matter how fleeting the time, I was always greeted with a smile and he just had a good vibe about him.

I saw him two weeks before he died and as usual hailed him up with him reciprocating and flashing his gold teeth. Now there’s a lot of speculation as to events that lead up to his death but we will never know the full story and I’m not about to add to it. Life has a way of throwing shit at us, and until we’re in a particular situation ourselves we don’t know how we’ll handle it so I try hard not to judge. Instead I choose to remember the gentle giant that loved his dogs and gave me jokes back in the day, and I’m glad that so many others came to celebrate his life too.

I attended the funeral with a cousin who was due to give birth in 8 days. The last thing I said to her on that day was, “Ooh, any day now really, Tash. Next time I see you, you’ll be a mummy!” Little did we know, bubba had no intention of cooking for another week and put in an appearance the day after!

It just goes to show that we can plan things and hope they turn out the way we would like, but time waits for no man and will show you who’s really in charge! #RealTalk

That brings me to Thursday and the realisation that some people are in the wrong profession and should be writing comedy because they’ve got jokes for days!

Although I may have thought time can’t come quick enough for some things to happen it’s actually proved to me it’s because it was giving others the chance to gather enough rope to hang themselves.

I can’t divulge any details yet but hang tight, I’ve got a doozie coming real soon. Remember Sticks And Stones. (Part 1)?, well Hurricane Dawn has been gathering force since then and you’d better believe for some there will be no peace in the eye of this storm. Folk need to get comfy in the bed they’ve made – like I’m about to get comfy in mine!

Celebrate life for real people. Tomorrow is never promised.

 

 

R.I.P David, Darcus Howe and all those who have been laid to rest or passed away this week.

Congratulations Natasha on the birth of Princess Tula. Can’t wait for a snuggle!

 

 

Count Your Blessings, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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