I am lying in bed wondering when the next feed will be. It is usually around this time so it feels almost pointless to go to sleep before he wakes. It's in these moments I dare to let my thoughts loose. The ones I have been too busy all day with my baby to listen to. It's in these moments I hold back the tears and try to push the welling grief down. I am led right next to my husband, he is sleeping, and although I could just put my hand out and touch him - he feels further away than ever. I am lying here knowing I am lonelier than ever. My baby is asleep in the adjoining room, he has a cold and I can hear his nose whistling as he sleeps soundly. In that room is my whole heart, my reason for going on, my reason for living. I have never had many friends, I came from a military family so we moved so many times friendships were fleeting and even in my adult life I have also remained nomadic! Maybe it's a learnt behaviour, not holding onto friendships be...
Today I am still reeling from the terrible events in Manchester. I held my little baby boy last night and cried at the thought of the world I have brought him into, such pain and suffering.
The fear that grips my heart though is not that these evil monsters exist in this world and they could take me or my loved ones in such a cruel and callous way. Not these horrible cruel people who I cannot protect my son from but is a fear that they will win.
I scrolled through my newsfeed and saw hatred spewing from people I call friends. Shocking sweeping statements. I see racist slogans and far right groups capitalising on our fear. I see a whole religion being tarred with the same brush as this evil scum without a second thought.
I look at my son and he knows no prejudice, he knows no difference between race or skin colour, he knows no difference between a Muslim, Christian or Jew. He has no sense of superiority or hatred. He was born, like we all were, as an equal to all others and with a purity and innocence. Any hatred or prejudice he grows up to have is what we as a society have taught him. This is the challenge of my generation. To feel the pain and fear that such atrocities cause but to stand firm and grow strong to not fall victim to their evil. Not to believe or spread the hate they want us to feel, not to divide our societies but instead we need to be strong and resilient and raise our children with hope.
I will read all the stories of my childhood to my little boy; of how good triumphs evil. Of how monsters are defeated and how kindness and love is always right.
I will rise to the challenge these monsters have set us as a society and bring my child up to be accepting and loving and kind. To fight for what is right and to reject all that is evil and wrong. I will bring him up in a world where the innocence he was born with will be stolen from him far too early but I will be there to guide him and cherish him and teach him to be the beacon of hope that his generation must be.
As a mother all I can do is hope that it will be enough.
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