So here goes…

Quick back story to get you up to speed if you don’t have time to scroll back through my blog. My not-husband and I met back in 2015. We met online as I was working 13-hour shifts on a surgical ward, and he was doing the usual too-ing and fro-ing that comes with being in a front-line squadron.

He has two girls from a previous marriage, and we now have a little boy together. When we met, I had vowed never to date someone with children (I wasn’t ready to take on a family!) and he declared he didn’t want any more children. But…here we are, smashing this blended family thing!

In the beginning,

my not-husband was living ‘on camp’ after the break up of his marriage earlier that year, and I was temporarily living with my parents after the end of a long-term relationship. So being in similar situations, neither of us had our own space, nor were we interested in anything too serious!

When he wasn’t away enjoying the perks of Army life – seeing the world, we spent a lot of time together. I’d often stay in the mess (rooms on the base) but that came with its own issues, of course. I’d have to be signed in and get a temporary visitor’s pass during day times, and for overnight stays, well they required a monumental form filling exercise with approval that had to be arranged in advance, so half the time it just wasn’t worth the effort!

We saw one another fairly often on and off camp, making the most of the time we had together. He would have his girls every other weekend, so to begin with, we didn’t see each other then. Once I’d met them (then 8 and almost 10) we’d often spend the weekends together; going on days out, or to the beach, or walking our dogs somewhere new (I had 3 and he had 1).

We’d sometimes stay on camp together (if we’d done that pain in the backside paperwork) or we’d all go to visit my not-husband’s parents and stay over there. This lack of our own space was perhaps the biggest influence in our decision to buy a house together.

So in 2016,

we’d made the decision to start house hunting but as always with military life, that wasn’t simple either, and my not-husband deployed for the second time that year. Whilst in Canada, he sent me a link to a house new on the market and he asked me to view it. You’ll find that story here – The Crazy World of Deployment – but long story short…we now live in that house!

So we now lived together, ‘off the patch’ (not in military quarters) which, of course, has its advantages. It’s our own to do as we please (I feel lucky to have not lived a magnolia life) and when my not-husband is at home, he feels as though he’s away from work. But it can also mean not having that connection to other military families that you get when all your neighbours are service personnel.

Connecting with the military community…

Back in 2017, when work allowed, I attended a couple of coffee mornings and met some other spouses but there was one big difference…I didn’t have children. Being the only one without children and living away from the patch, I felt almost like ‘an outsider’. They were spending their week in and out of one another’s houses, some had children at the same school, and others attended baby groups together. It was hard to fit into that without that link.

Don’t get me wrong, I met some great people that way, and the get-togethers are fantastic for that purpose. But at the time, I had started my own business and was working a lot, so I couldn’t always make the coffee mornings. I’d miss several weeks and feel out of the loop and this only added to the isolation. This is where groups such as the Milspo Network and MCN (Military Coworking Network) come in. These groups are vital for spouses to connect through business, wherever they might be, even if it’s only ever virtually. I joined both and they’re incredible communities to be a part of, especially during this year when so many of us have lacked human interaction. The weekly zoom sessions keep me sane!!

Living in a little village, I, of course, know people here and I’m also lucky enough to have the most wonderful next-door neighbour. She’s the kind of neighbour every girl needs and we support each other through all sorts.

But when it comes to friendships and a wider support network, what does that look like?

Well, I find that military friends often come in the form of spouses of the serving person’s colleagues. This is true for me, and in a way, it works out well as we often experience things like deployments together, so we’re able to support each other through it. The downside comes when you’re socialising, and the guys talk nothing but work because that’s their lives!

Being slightly older, there’s actually a lot of us in our military friendship groups who own houses, so for us, it feels like the norm to be living ‘off the patch’. We do BBQs, or drinks together (remember those days?!) but I do think many friends come from living in quarters, so perhaps I’m missing out there?

Social media is also a fantastic way to connect with other spouses, and I met one of my best friends this way! We had both commented on a ‘where are you based?’ post on a group for army spouses. We both wrote ‘Somerset‘ but after chatting, discovered we lived two villages apart. We met at the local pub that weekend and the rest is history! So if you’re afraid of joining them, or feel nervous about posting, go for it! It might be the best thing you ever do!

Civilian friends…

are great and much needed, but there’s something special in having people around you who just ‘get it’, isn’t there? The ones you don’t have to explain yourself to, the ones who check in because they know you’re alone yet again.

During deployments, I found I’d have two answers to the question, ” How are you? “. A military answer and a civilian answer. The civvi answer would always be the typical British ” yes I’m fine thanks, you? “, whereas the military answer could be a whole lot more honest! ” I’m done, it’s all shit! Skype failed for the 74th time, the boiler just broke and the deployment has been extended “. Because military families get every part of that completely!

So what about not being married?

Well, so far, so good!

The main issue I see is with postings and housing. As I mentioned before, we’ve not needed to move and have our own house, so we’ve not had to deal with a housing issue…yet.

Luckily the military way is changing, and there is an ever-increasing awareness of modern-day families. The traditional view seems to be that of the army wife, at home, with two children (or something similar). When of course that’s just not how it is anymore. Families come in many different forms, from blended families to same-sex couples, to single parents, there’s no ‘typical’ family unit, I don’t think.

Since 2019,

surplus properties have been available to couples who can prove they’re in an established long-term relationship. We would fit this category and could apply if the situation arose, which is good to know. We did the unaccompanied/weekending piece for three months, and I’m not sure I could do it long-term! Hats off to those of you who do! To qualify, they require evidence of your relationship. They actually accept quite a range of things including utility bills or household information such as; being on the electoral roll, having a child together, or holding a joint bank account. For more information on how this works, visit the AFF site for a well-explained run down – click here.

For us, I think the only issue would come with an overseas posting, as I believe these do still require you to be married. Correct me if I’m wrong. So as I’ve said before, that would be marrying for convenience and as a formality, which is fine if you were already planning on tying the knot, but we’re not. I’ve known a fair few couples bring their wedding forward to be together sooner. Some have even had a small ‘official bit’ wedding then a bigger (not always) celebration later on once settled in their new place.

Dependant??

So what about this age-old thing of a military spouse being called a ‘dependant’?!

Annoying, isn’t it? I can almost hear your rants from here!

I am pretty sure it comes from the days of the ‘typical army wife’ staying at home with the children, following her husband from posting to posting, for the entirety of his career. Of course, this suited families in the 1950’s, but this isn’t the reality in 2021, as I’m sure many of you can attest.

Many mums are now the ones serving whilst others are husbands or wives of serving women. Some are, like me, not married to their serving person, yet I am known as a dependant and have a ‘dependants’ pass’, which is another positive step as you usually have to be married to have one.

But I don’t consider myself to be dependent on my not-husband. I survive several deployments, alone, for months at a time. I don’t depend on my not-husband being here to keep me going. I’d be screwed if I did! Damn, I even do the blue jobs! As ‘dependants’ we run the house, hold down a job, study, care for children, whatever it might be, whether our spouses are around or not, right? Children, I’d call dependants, they do require us to be around to care for them and keep them alive. But, us spouses…? I think not!

In relation to finances, we have many serving friends whose partners actually earn far more than they do! The serving person’s income becomes toy money compared to what their non-serving spouse brings home! So to call us all ‘dependants’ seems outdated to me. I feel like the topic of dependants could go on forever, so I’ll leave it there. What’s your take on it? Let me know on socials.

So, how do welfare units reach out to unmarried military spouses?

Well, the answer is usually they don’t. If you’ve got an issue, it’s on you to seek the support and advice yourself. Unless you’re lucky enough to have a pro-active welfare officer, the chances are they won’t ever reach you. In our first few years together, the welfare officer we had was great. He would connect with the long-term partners of serving personnel and make sure they were aware of the support available to them, despite not being in SFA.

It worked out really well for me as in 2016 my not-husband was deployed several times, meaning I was alone a lot of the time. Welfare set up a deployment group for spouses and gave us a brief on what to expect and how they could help before they deployed, as well as the opportunity to stay connected throughout. How good is that?!

But, as with everything in the military, people move on from posts, and things change. Welfare now? Never hear a peep! (Despite having an online group which should make it super easy to connect to spouses – married or otherwise!) Every unit, every location, and every service is different…but there is hope! With the military finally giving more recognition to the modern-day family, perhaps things will improve in time. Who knows?! I hear the Marines do a great job when it comes to families, so perhaps it’ll catch on.

I think I’ll end it there as I could go on all day. I’d love to hear how things are for you? Which service are you, and how do they connect with you? Married or unmarried, what’re your experiences? Head to the contact pages or get in touch on socials

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I’ve talked before about being an unmarried military spouse but here’s a quick recap (or read the full intro here) We’ve been together for over 5 years, I am step-parent to his teen girls (13 & 15) and we’ve not tied the knot.

For a military couple, some people find this odd, but for us, it just hasn’t been an issue. We own our own home and my not-husband is stationed nearby. He has been married before and was scarred for life by the experience – okay that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you catch my drift. I, on the other hand have never been married, engaged, or even considered the idea.

My views on marriage aren’t complicated really, I think it’s a wonderful thing and if it suits you, do it. I grew up with unmarried parents which gave me my double-barreled surname (read more about names and marriage here). My parents did eventually marry after 34 years but it was sadly forced by the ill health of my dad who passed away just six months later (read more about that here). For them, they reached that point wondering why they hadn’t done it sooner?

Since having a baby,

I get asked a lot by the older generations, “Have you set a date now the baby is here?”, (despite not even being engaged) because ‘back in their day’ if you were ‘with child’ you’d get married…simple!

My not-husband’s late grandpa – who was in his 90s – would tell us; “When your grandmother got in the family way, I did the honourable thing“. Which of course meant marry her, so they wouldn’t have a child out of wedlock. It might be the honourable thing, but is that always the right thing?

Does doing the honourable thing mean marrying out of duty, rather than love? Do those marriages last? Do mum and dad NEED to be married? Does it create a more solid foundation? What benefits does it bring to the children or the family?

So what do I think?

I don’t think it creates a more solid foundation, no. I believe you can have an incredibly strong relationship without being married. Sometimes, getting married can actually put pressures on a relationship that wouldn’t otherwise be there! Perhaps parents or grandparents force or influence a union. And if there’s pressures, perhaps they lead to disagreements or create atmospheres, and could that ultimately lead to an unhappy home for children?

What about names?

I’ve written about those many times before (here). Prior to having our baby, I had mentioned that I was the only one in our household with my surname. My not-husband and his girls have his, and I have mine. Well, nothing has changed. I am still the odd one out!

I took real pleasure in our little boy having my name for three weeks, before registering him. Seeing his name on documents brought me great joy! It was me and my little boy, blended beautifully with his daddy and big sisters. Then came the name change and bizarrely it hit me harder than I had expected!

In the registry office, the chap asked us lots of questions, including what our baby’s surname would be. The plan was always to give him his dad’s surname but having it written and finalised made me feel really odd! We joked a lot about him having my name as it’s a big thing to me (read more here), but it was never a serious option. Despite this, the reality of it made my heart sink! Seeing it in print, all official and final really felt like he was no longer MY baby. Crazy, right?! But it really did get to me. I shared these feelings with my not-husband and he understood, which made me feel a little better about it.

I adjusted to the name change pretty quickly, and the bad feeling left me until a medical letter arrived in his new name. Seeing that gave me a pang of sadness, but it soon passed.

We then visited the doctor for his 6-week check (at 9 weeks due to Covid) and that got me once again! The doctor took our red book (baby record) and crossed out my surname and wrote his dad’s. It just felt so… I don’t know, like I was being removed somehow! Like he was erasing all trace that he was MY little boy! Again, it’s crazy I know, but that’s how it felt at the time.

So yes, the concept of marriage and name changes did cross my mind at this point. Perhaps if I had the same name as all our children, I would somehow feel more complete? But, I then ask myself, would I change my name even if we got married now? No, probably not actually. I am still proud of my name and would probably still keep it, despite being the odd one out. How I will feel when our little boy reaches school age and we have different surnames, I don’t know. But for now, I’m sticking with it!

So what about the children?

How will my little boy feel growing up knowing his mummy has a different name to him? Will he even notice or care? Do his sisters feel more connected to their new little brother because they share a name? Probably.

For me, I didn’t experience the name difference as my surname is both my parents names, so neither was left out.

Did I experience any issues with my parents not being married? No, I don’t think so? I don’t recall any problems but perhaps if I asked my mum, she might have a few. I do remember something about signing forms being difficult for dad, but I could be wrong there. It was a long time ago!

Growing up,

I’m not sure I ever noticed that my parents were not married and others were. I don’t think it meant anything to me as a child. But, being an adult, I definitely saw a different view. I guess I just turned into a hopeless romantic as I saw marriage for the joining of companions and the solidifying of love.

But it was a beautiful thing, being able to witness my parents get married after three decades together. The pride I felt and the sense of togetherness was overwhelming. It was a real family affair with my older brother giving away mum, my younger brother as best man, our girls and myself as bridesmaids, and my not-husband and sister-in-law as witnesses. It was a truly magical day and one I will cherish forever.

So for me, my parents not being married previously enabled me to share in (and help plan) the most beautiful and important day of their lives. Perhaps us not being married now, might mean that one day our children may be able to experience the same? Who knows!

But what does it mean practically?

Sure, legally it brings financial security (unless you’ve got a pre-nup) but does that only matter if you split? Or if devastatingly, one of you passes away far too early, as with my dad.

I guess if we went our separate ways then things would not be as clear cut as if we were married, but we have always said we would leave with what we came with – we’re both reasonable people. Of course situations change, like having a baby and as I’ve mentioned before, I’m an incredibly independent person. So this year, I have found it so difficult to adjust to not working or having my own income. It’s taken me nearly six years to accept ‘his money’ as ‘our money’, despite the fact we share everything. Even now, after having a baby together, I still feel uneasy using our joint card to pay for things because I didn’t earn it!

This leads me to think that if you are organised enough and have things covered, such as; life insurance policies or a will, as well as a reasonable view of your financial situation, then being married or not is irrelevant? I could be wrong! Maybe it would all go t*ts up if we decided to split. Luckily we won’t be finding out!

Since becoming a mum,

I have found my focus homed in on my own mortality far more. I worry about our little boy if anything were to happen to me! Even more so, as I’m breastfeeding, so he’s 100% reliant on me for the time being. And yes, it scares me! I get nervous about driving, not because I’m an anxious driver – I love driving – but because of the idiots on the road that I have no control over! They could rob my little boy of his mummy and there would be nothing I could do about it. These are things that never bothered me before!

Just the other day, my not-husband and I were talking about life insurance and our financial situation, should anything happen to either one of us. Granted, it isn’t the nicest of conversations to have, but it needs to be done. Being in the military comes with its owns risks for the person serving and as a family, I think it’s vital you prepare for that…whilst praying it never happens!

So yes, when viewed in that light, I do feel being married would be far more beneficial and the safer option for our little boy, but I’m still not sure it’s a necessity. We have the relevant pieces of the puzzle in place without it…I think.

But we are a military family after all, so a spanner in the works would come with an overseas posting. We’d have to be married to live overseas…or go unaccompanied again. And in that instance, we’d be marrying as a formality. And is that the right thing to do?!

So for now,

here’s where I stand. I still don’t think marriage is a necessity, even though we now have a child together. For me, it’s still just a romantic, lovely thing to do to signify your solidarity and commitment to one another.

Whilst in Scotland on our 2019 road trip, we stopped at Gretna Green (famous since 1754 for eloping couples) and added an engraved padlock to their Love Lock sign. The engraving said ‘Forever Not Husband and Not Wife‘, with our names on the back. That was our own way of signifying our love and commitment. The key to the padlock is in Loch Leven, never to be found!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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They lied!

It’s not all pink and fluffy like we’re told. Not everyone ‘enjoys’ pregnancy. Some of us struggle growing a human and THAT’S OKAY!

As I write this, it’s 0350hrs and I’m sat in my conservatory eating cereal and drinking a decaf tea! Having woken up at 0200hrs to pee, I attempted to go back to sleep but the hunger got too much! I’m sure this baby thinks “if you’re awake, you’re going to feed me!”…demanding already!!

I’m currently 29 weeks pregnant with our little boy (my first but my not-husband’s third after two girls) and to be fair, this IS the ‘nice part’ . People always said to me the ‘nice part’ will come and I thought they were lying! For the first 4 months of pregnancy, it was horrendous and I wondered how it could ever improve or be ‘nice’?!?!

But here I am, not feeling completely wiped out, or sick, or crippled with a headache. Miracles do exist! Hurrah!

Pregnancy – The First Part

Urgh! Where do I start?!

As soon as I became pregnant, before I even knew about it, I felt awful! I thought I was coming down with something. At around 4 weeks I began feeling a bit off. I was at a clients house one Friday afternoon and suddenly felt faint and incredibly sick. So bad that I had to call for cover and leave (I was sat with an elderly lady whilst her husband was out running errands). My fear was that I’d picked up a virus or something and didn’t want to pass it on to this lady and compromise her health. I’d also missed breakfast that day and was about to prepare lunch when I came over feeling like this. I thought it couldn’t be skipping a meal because that had never affected me before. It was odd!

I spent the rest of the day in bed feeling nauseous and a bit light headed, not thinking much of it really. I thought maybe I’d overdone it lately?! Saturday wasn’t much better, I woke up feeling nauseous but it passed. Again, thinking nothing of it, wondering if it was some sort of winter bug I’d got.

I don’t know what made me think differently throughout the day, perhaps an instinct of some kind, but I began to wonder if I might be pregnant?! We’d had a miscarriage in November so my cycles were a bit haywire and I couldn’t be sure if I was late or not as sometimes it can take a while to return to normal. I didn’t think we had been ‘in the danger zone’, but something was telling me it absolutely could be that I was pregnant. As I’ve said previously, we weren’t trying conceive…quite the opposite really. Read more about that here.

First thing the next morning…

I took a test and boom, there it was! The line appeared the second my pee hit the stick. It couldn’t have been more of a positive if it tried! A far cry from the faint line we’d had last November!

It was all downhill from here!

Firstly, I struggled to finish my cups of tea! I love a good cupa so this was the first symptom I thought could do one! Then came the hunger! Why was I so hungry ALL THE TIME, and why did I feel nauseous if I didn’t eat right away?! Urgh!

By 7 weeks I was REALLY beginning to feel rough! I felt sick as soon as I woke up and struggled to eat breakfast. Some days I felt so nauseous I was unable to get out of bed so I’d have to stay put, nibbling on dry cereal and sipping water. It was a definite ‘insta vs reality’ moment! My not-husband was great, he began bringing me breakfast biscuits each morning to help settle my stomach before I attempted to get up.

CRISPS!

Plain, baked, salty crisps! The only thing that kept the nausea at bay between meals. I was so hungry but couldn’t just eat all day, especially whilst working, so those crisps became my best friend. Getting me through the work day without vomiting.

The next level!

The tiredness was a bit of a shock. I found myself struggling to stay awake some afternoons. The worst part was, sitting in someone’s cosy house, in a comfy chair and NOT nodding off! It was January and February so often the heating was on making it extra cosy!!

I was just so tired, even after a full nights sleep I found myself needing to nap during the day…which of course isn’t always possible.

At nine weeks we’d been booked in for an early scan due to the last pregnancy and my anxiety around losing this one. The day before the scan, my symptoms seemed to disappear. They just vanished! I remember being convinced we’d lost it – an horrendous feeling! I woke up and didn’t feel sick for the first time in weeks!

The morning of the scan though, it was back with a vengeance! I threw up violently! Our hospital is a 40 minute drive away and I spent the entire time trying not to be sick in the car…

And that’s another thing!

Car sickness! I now felt nauseous as a passenger and had to drive myself to feel okay. Except that morning of course, I felt way too ill to drive!

The scan was fine, a good strong heart beat and everything as it should be. We met my mum that evening in a local pub (pre-lockdown) and told her the news. She’d known I’d been unwell and I couldn’t keep telling her I had a bug! I struggled my way through a vegetable lasagne which is one of my favourite meals! I think I had to end up taking half home with me as I just couldn’t eat it all. That night, I was getting ready for bed and I saw my lasagne once again (insert crying face!) I was now also hungry but unable to eat…that familiar cycle!

The Headaches!

Oh the headaches!! Why me?! I used to have terrible stress induced migraines but hadn’t had one for years! Probably a good 4 years since my last one. They were back, but this time they seemed to be hormone induced. They say pregnancy lessens migraines, well mine didn’t get that memo!

Almost daily I had a headache which if I didn’t catch quick enough, would turn into a migraine. Migraines would knock me out for at least a day or two, sometimes more! Really aware I was still in the first trimester, I didn’t want to be dosed up on medication all the time. I tried taking just half a paracetamol to take the edge off and that usually worked.

One morning in particular though, I’d got up and had a niggling headache – always on the right side…so predictable! I sat in my conservatory and put my head on a cushion. Pressure seemed to help dull the pain but this one wasn’t going anywhere. It escalated quickly and became a full blown migraine. My not-husband had gone to work as normal and when he left I just had the usual headache and nausea so nothing for him to worry about. By 10am, I couldn’t move! I couldn’t lift my head without wanting to be sick nor could I open my right eye without piercing pain.

I was incapacitated.

We have 4 dogs who by this point were wondering where on earth their breakfast was! I had to text my neighbour and ask her to come round and feed them for me. Luckily she’s amazing and always on hand if I need anything (and vice versa). She always checks in with me if she knows my not-husband is away too. Just the kind of neighbour and friend every military spouse needs!

It wasn’t until around 20-22weeks that the headaches tapered off. Up until that point I’d often find myself having to spend hours lying down, feeling like I was incredibly hungover and ‘foggy’. I’d end up writing off entire days due to headaches, which actually wasn’t such an inconvenience as by that point lockdown was well and truly underway and there was nowhere to be!

It gets better though, right?!

You’d like to think so!

The acid. The hip pain. The bleeding gums. The inability to eat a whole meal. The breathlessness. The lack of shoes that fit. The irritability. The heat. The feet in my ribs! The ‘Snissing’ (pee dribbles when sneezing!) Then there’s the more intimate issues…

Do I need to continue? Gone are the days of being comfortable! I think I’m lucky though. Some women experience far worse than that little list.

Currently, I cannot go a full night without getting up to pee, which I wouldn’t mind if I could go back to sleep after! Nope wide awake and then we’re back to the start…hungry!

Many a morning my not-husband will wake up to an empty bed. He thinks it’s weird. I just give up and take a pillow to the sofa. Sometimes I’ll drift off for a bit, others I’ll have a cupa and go back to bed to try again. Meditation is a big help in settling me back down into sleep. Simple guided sleep meditations on YouTube do the job.

I believe I’m lucky even with all of this though. I could still be suffering with the sickness so thank goodness that ended around week 18. Occasionally now it returns in the mornings and I struggle with breakfast but nothing like before, thankfully.

Still, my human is growing!

He’s growing by the day and I’m incredibly lucky to be having him. That doesn’t mean I can’t admit to it being hard and not enjoying it. Pregnancy isn’t my friend but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for him. If you’re struggling with pregnancy or not enjoying the process…THAT’S OKAY! We all experience things differently and that’s our right to. Don’t feel guilty for your feelings, they’re yours and they’re valid! Not all of us enjoy pregnancy or find it magical and wonderful.

And that’s okay! Stay strong! You’ve got this!

For information and tips on staying mentally and emotionally well, visit Tommy’s (click here). Plenty of resources and suggestions to help. My inbox is also always open to anyone who’d like to get in contact.

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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3 years ago, I was getting up at 4am to wave off my not-husband to Canada. He was deploying for the second time that year! You begin to accept that getting up at 1, 2, 3, 4 or even 5am is just part of the deal sometimes!

The alarm goes and we get up in the dark, sneaking downstairs, trying not to wake anyone else. The Spaniel thinks it’s wonderful we’re up, celebrating by banging his tail against the kitchen radiator! Ssh!!

We had been through a deployment once already that summer, he’d only been home six weeks and boy did we squeeze a lot in! We’d had a holiday with the kids, been to two weddings, ran an event for the local community, plus the usual days out and daily dog walks too.

So when 23rd September arrived, it was way too soon! We hadn’t seen enough of one another! We’d been so busy! How was he leaving again already?!

4am. Bags are packed, Spaniel is wagging and I’m trying not to let any tears slip out. We had done this before – not so long ago – so I knew what to expect, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Spaniel had realised what was happening by this point and thought he’d try and go with. No such luck pup!

That deployment was a weird one!

By this point, we’d now been together a year so this wasn’t a short term thing. We were stronger than ever and loving being our blended family of four. I spent several days with the kids (his two from a previous marriage) whilst he was away, growing our bond more each time.

October arrived, bringing his birthday. That got to me a little! The kids and I spent the day eating cake for Daddy and enjoying ourselves at a village hall event (proper country life!) I sent him pictures and hoped he would have a good day despite working. It was hard to talk with the time difference and as for the signal…

Before he left, we’d discussed living together and had been looking at some houses. Now some may think this is pretty quick, but we knew it felt right and it just made sense for us. We hadn’t found anything right in the short time he was home and definitely hadn’t had the time to view any!

So mid October when I get a text saying, “Hey, there’s this house just been listed, could you check it out, maybe arrange a viewing?”

Oh the pressure!!

I clicked the link and could instantly see why he’d sent it! Stunning! It was an 1860’s railway cottage, extended, beautiful kitchen and even a wood-burner in the brick built conservatory extension…this was the one we’d been searching for!

I arranged a viewing the next day and met my parents and his, at the house. There was no way I could view and make a decision by myself, that would be crazy! I figured parents would provide my not-husband with a knowledgeable opinion when it came to ‘what to look for’.

Both sets of parents fell in love with the place! I’d taken some extra photos to send. Ones with people he knew in them, to get a real sense of the rooms; not like estate agent pictures that tend to be stretched and widened. Well, he loved it too!

Oh shit! Now what?!

“Put an offer in, see what they say“. Erm, hold on a sec, you want me to do what?!

This was craziness! He was trusting me to do what?! Was HE crazy? Was this some kind of mid-deployment crisis?! The estate agent told us there were 18 viewings planned for over the weekend. It was a popular property and I could see why!

Monday morning arrived and I put in our offer. The estate agent tells me, “There’s eight offers on the table, it’ll be down to the seller to decide which suits him best“. I thought, great! We can forget it then, we’re going through a deployment so things won’t be simple, the other offers are probably far more straightforward!

“Hello, I’m pleased to tell you, your offer has been accepted!“

Wait, what the…? How?! We couldn’t do anything for at least a month! Turns out, the guy wanted a bit of time to sort his new property, so we won! Sweet! Deployment had worked in our favour!

Comm’s between myself and my not-husband were always a day out as he was 7 hours behind. By the time we’d get to talk and discuss things, the estate agents were always shut. I had to wait (painfully) until around 1500 hrs UK time, for him to wake up over there. My parents were there when I got the call, so I met my in-laws at the pub for lunch to tell them the news.

‘Argggh! This was happening!‘

Never had I done anything like this before! Then add the pressure of my darling not-husband leaving me to handle a house sale! I’m not going to lie, it was all a little surreal! My anxiety was ramped up daily; contacting solicitors and organising a survey…waiting a day between each to confirm with my not-husband.

Hello November!

This was only a short deployment this time so he arrived back in plenty of time to help with the move (luckily!) One dark evening, we arranged an informal viewing and met the house owner so my not-husband could see the house he was buying. Sheer madness!

He was understandably nervous but also excited that the ball was already rolling! We couldn’t wait to move in now! The next time he deployed, we’d be home owners and that brought a whole new chess game to navigate!!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I’ve seen many articles about the origins of a name but I want to explore the ‘tradition’ of women taking their husband’s surname after marriage.

With changing times, has it lost its favour? Is it still as important and is it acceptable for a man to take his wife’s name instead?

For me, it’s been a topic of much debate with my own not-husband on many occasions. He is a very traditional man, proud of his male lineage and believes strongly in passing down his family name.

Unfortunately, I too am proud of my surname and hate the idea of losing it! Luckily we aren’t planning to get hitched so it’s not an issue (and the name of this blog is safe), but that doesn’t stop us discussing it hypothetically now does it?

But why the dilemma?

My surname is unique! I am the only person with MY name and I love that!

My surname is in fact double-barrelled (no, I’m not posh) I just have two names as one. They’re both unusual so there are no other families with that combination. Only my brother and mother share it with me.

My parent’s decision to hyphenate my surname was due to their own situation; not through inherited wealth or nobility, as once would have been the case.

My parents were unmarried and chose to give their children both surnames, rather than choose between one or the other. It wasn’t until my parents married (due to Dad’s terminal illness) in November 2018, that my mum joined my younger brother and I, in sharing our surname. My mum too lost her father at a young age, so retaining his name was important to her also.

My older brother however, has only our Mum’s surname, as he’s the last male carrying that name down the line. If he’s does not have children (presumably passing down the name) then that name ends with him. Even more reason for me to keep mine, right?!

“Four Names?!”

Triple and quadruple barrelled surnames are pretty rare but they do exist. Ex-army officer and now Dorset MP, Richard Drax is actually the holder of four surnames. His full name is Richard Grosvenor Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax. You can see why he drops the other three for official business!

His name developed over the years, right back as far as the 1500’s, passed down through the inheritance of the Charborough Estate in Dorset, South West England.

In fact ‘Drax’, the name the MP now uses, did not come into play until the 1700’s, when a man named Thomas Shatterden took his wife’s name (yes, this isn’t something new!) after she became heiress of Charborough House.

In those days, men would see no problem in taking the name of his wife, as social class out-ranked gender. And in fact entire families would adopt the name of the estate they were marrying into, to improve status.

So why is it seen as a negative thing in our modern world if a man takes his wife’s name? Men who do so are sometimes perceived as ‘passive’ or ‘more feminine‘. It is estimated that only around 3% of men are taking their wife’s name after marriage. Perhaps some don’t know it’s even an option?!

On a side note, I’ve visited the Charborough Estate – Highwood Gardens, on a charity open day for SSAFA, if you get the chance, go have a peak, especially when the bluebells are out! The photo for The Not Wife Life was taken there. It’s a beautiful sight!

But what are the options for a new name?

So back to names and this brings me to the situation where a person with a double barreled surname, meets someone who already has two names (or four!). What happens then? As we’ve discussed, having multiple barreled names is an option but doesn’t that just complicate life?

Or what about people like myself who were given a hyphenated surname at birth, rather than choosing to use one after marriage?

Deed Poll suggests there’s no limit on how many names a person can have, however; most official documents such as your passport or driving licence only allow up to 30 characters. Now mine is already 24 characters including the hyphen, so if I were to add my not-husband’s surname too, I’d be using 32! Nightmare! (Besides, it’d sound crap anyway, sorry darling!)

It would simply become an official nod to my husband and not used day to day, so what would be the purpose?

Some countries recognise common-law ‘marriages’; namely Canada and around half of the states in America. This is usually a couple who have lived together for more than one year and present themselves publicly as husband and wife.

In Canada, for federal purposes such as obtaining a passport, either spouse can assume the surname of the other, if in a legally recognised common law relationship. Couples can then pick a name without the pressures of traditional post-marriage name etiquette.

But how do you choose?!

Sadly for my not-husband, I’m all for women retaining their maiden name (much to his disgust!) or using a double surname to acknowledge both sides.

Some people turn one surname into a middle name, but again for me, it just wouldn’t sound right. Others create an entirely new surname, made by combining their two names. Whereas, some with existing doubles drop one name and double the other with their new surname.

But which do you drop?! Which is deemed less important? How do people choose?!

Take me for example. My mother’s surname is first, my father’s is second, coupled with a hyphen (hyphens look like – that, not an apostrophe ‘ or a comma, or anything else…I’ve had them all!).

As I said earlier, my Mum’s surname ends with my older brother as she is an only child and female. Yet my brother may not continue the name (sadly) which would make it more important for me to keep the first part of my name.

However;

It’s not that simple! The second half of my surname is that of my father, who I sadly lost only a few months ago (You can read about my journey through grief here) So for me, retaining that in honour of my wonderful and amazing Dad is crucial. I hold no loving ties to his side of the family so it’s purely the link to my Dad that counts. If he was still with us, would I consider dropping his name…maybe!

Sorry darling not-husband, looks like I’d be sticking with mine and you’d be sticking with yours. Which of course is not unusual in married couples; some women continue to use their maiden name for work purposes. Particularly in the case of professionals such as doctors or teachers who may have been widely known by that name prior to marriage.

Where did surnames come from?

In England, the adopting of surnames began in the 9th century under the English Common Law, ‘doctrine of coverture‘. In this, women lacked independent legal identity from their husband. Women were regarded as ‘property’, passed from father to husband.

Names in general originated from simply identifying the difference between one person and another, or the place they lived. For example, Baker, Butcher, Smith, Hill or Green. John (the) Baker was then easily distinguishable from John (the) Butcher.

The UWE completed a four year study on the origins of names (11-19th century) and found most of England were using surnames by the 15th century, but it was King Henry VIII that ordered martial births to be recorded by father’s surnames.

Traditions

I think it’s fair to say that some women have continued taking their husband’s surnames as ‘it’s tradition’. But what about other traditional aspects? There are many patriarchal marital traditions, such as ‘giving away the bride’ or even before that, by asking the father’s permission to marry. Are these things are still important within the Western culture, are they losing popularity too, or are they just not as widely acknowledged?

There are of course situations – like mine – where Dads aren’t around to fulfill those traditions. Some women chose to have their mother or perhaps grandfather walk them down the aisle, or like my Mum – her eldest son.

Historically, when fathers weren’t around and a child needed naming, the women would use the less common matronymic form of creating a surname. This means using a name derived from the mother or another female ancestor, just as you would patronymically (eg: Williamson – son of William). For women it is slightly different, for example; Emmett comes from the female name Emma, or Madison from the name Maud.

Confusion!

So, with names having so many origins and meanings, what do they ACTUALLY mean?

Names can symbolise wealth, connections or a new union. They may even hold a sense of pride, belonging, or a link to family heritage. My not-husband for example, has a surname of Irish decent – which itself has been modified from its original form. So if I were to take his surname, people may assume I am of Irish decent which would be untrue. It has no connection for me, other than being with someone who has a link to Ireland from a couple of generations ago.

Here I want to throw in another curve ball! What about a name change without a marriage? A friend of mine changed her surname to that of her long-term partner after many years living together. They had agreed they would never marry, but wanted some kind of union and a name change was it. Everything remains separate and there would be no messy legal stuff if things don’t work out. She’d probably just revert back to her original surname. Simple?!

Other unmarried couples I know have come to blows over baby’s name. Whose surname should be chosen? Some people believe the father gives the child his name as a way of forming a connection, as the mother formed her bond whilst carrying the child.

Some mothers with children from previous relationships choose to keep their maiden name when remarrying, so that the older child is not left with the odd name out.

In my house, I am the odd one out. My not-husband and his two children have their surname and I have my own. If we were to have a child, my not-husband is adamant s/he would take his surname, so I would still be greatly outnumbered!

So what do you think?

It still seems like the burden is on the woman to change her surname after marriage. Nugent (2010) wrote a paper on surnames (specifically the predominance of using the father’s surname) and called it a ‘Moral Dilemma’. She concluded the female had a moral dilemma of self vs family. The paper also suggested that a woman keeping her birth surname was selfish and antagonistic towards her family.

I disagree here! I believe we should all have the freedom to choose, whether we are male or female. This is highlighted of course in same-sex relationships! Why should your gender determine your surname?

Let me know what you think. I could go on all day, exploring different countries, cultures and traditions but you’d lose interest and this post would be even longer than it already is!

Have you kept your surname? Are you a man who took your wife’s surname? Are you a same-sex couple and married? Whose surname did you choose? Get in touch, I’d love to hear your stories

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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Urgh! Sunday evening and he’s leaving…AGAIN! Weekending sucks! How many of you can relate?

My wonderful not-husband leaves somewhere between 1800-1930 every Sunday, either to pick up others or be picked up. He’s working 180 miles from home during the week and travelling a good 4 hours (if he’s lucky) back each Friday to be with us. (aka weekending)

Why? Because the Army says so! Luckily only April – July for us, I know some of you do this long-term and I take my hat off to you!

Walking into a quiet, empty house, looking at the chaos in the kitchen after yet another rushed dinner. That sinking feeling knowing you’re eating and sleeping alone for the next week.

It isn’t all bad though…

Weekending means although I’m sleeping alone, there’s plenty of space and no one to steal the quilt from me! Amazing!

TV? Yep, that’s mine too, to watch whatever I feel like, at whatever time. I don’t watch a lot but when I do, it’s either as a form of escapism or it’s a knowledgeable programme where I learn something new. I’m fascinated by the mind, the decisions people make and the way they behave (my not-husband thinks I’m weird!) so anything about that, I’ll sit and watch to learn more.

Food…well, that’s good and bad. When he’s away, I see no issue with cereal for dinner at 9pm! Come on, I’m not the only one, admit it?!

I have no timings to keep to, I don’t need to cook a big meal, I just need to survive! I see the flexibility as a positive, yet I know I’m not eating properly during the week, so I suppose that’s a negative.

Cooking…I hate cooking! My lovely not-husband is the cook in this house and he enjoys it so it’s a bonus when he’s home. For now, I eat to live and will attempt to amend this soon…maybe!

Weekending = Choices

Weeks where he is picked up by other guys heading the same direction, I get both cars. Sweet! Which one I drive during that week all depends on which one has the most fuel in.

Obviously it’s his!

I’m a life on the edge kinda person, rolling into the petrol station on 0 miles, wondering if I can make it to the next fuel opportunity a mile or three down the road! Who’s with me?

Contrasting lifestyles

What’s hard about this weekending lark though, is the completely contrasting lifestyles I have! (No wonder I have a crazy brain!)

I live life as a single person Monday to Friday, I have no one else in the house to consider, I have no one to organise or get things ready for. I have no one to make any extra mess; the mess that appears is mine and mine alone. If I go out, I have no one to tell, I have no timing to get back to…after all, if I want cereal at 9pm, that’s cool remember!

So when the weekend arrives and I suddenly have three other people to think about, life is very different!

I’ve got to actually plan things like dinner that evening, because opening the freezer to see what falls out isn’t acceptable when you’ve got kids to feed. I have to make sure timings are met, like picking them up from school or getting them into bed.

I’ve suddenly got three people’s worth of washing to do and the dishwasher is now running daily, instead of weekly. I have two people not listening to me and one telling me how to do the things I do every single day without an issue! Argh! Where’s the wine?!

Don’t get me wrong…

We are just like any other family, we do have fantastic days out and precious family time making memories. We laugh, we joke, we relax and we enjoy the company.

On the weekends we don’t have the kids, they can go either way! Some (most) weekends, we have errands to run and jobs to do. The things that become difficult when the kids are around or that’re just easier without them. Like finding and fixing a part for our motorhome, picking up a new washing machine or working on the house.

Others we choose not to do anything other than have ‘us time’ because that’s important to us. We eat every meal together, we sit and chat, we watch a series we like. We have days out, we visit a place we both want to go and just enjoy having the other one there, or perhaps we sit and eat lunch in a beautiful place, whilst we catch up on the weeks events.

Giving time to your relationship

Having ‘us time’ is so important to maintaining a solid relationship when you live with all that military life throws at you. You have to put in the extra time to make sure you stay connected.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who worries about disconnecting. I worry that I’m getting too used to living alone, that I’m enjoying my own company more than I should. I fear the old me will creep back in; the me who thinks I don’t need anyone else, that I’m totally independent and don’t need help, comfort or support.

I wonder if when my not-husband is home for good, he’ll just annoy me, ruin my routine and get in the way. I worry that having him around will be too much and we will begin to grate on one another.

Well of course that’s just not true.

We have an incredibly solid foundation and cherish the time we spend together! He’s my best friend and I can’t wait to have him home every day! (Well almost every day, he is still bound by the army, of course)

We all need someone and sometimes we have to accept that we can’t do things alone. Whether that’s having support from a parent, your neighbour, an old friend or your husband.

Reflection

So as amazing as my weekends can be and how much I love my not-husband and the kids, weekend life can become super stressful, literally overnight!

I don’t feel guilty for admitting this because it’s all true, I struggle sometimes to adjust between living alone to living as a family of four. I sometimes struggle to cope with having two almost (they’re 12 and 13!) stroppy teenagers in the house, answering back and being far from helpful.

But equally I struggle to cope being alone sometimes. I just want someone else there to take the strain. Someone to cuddle up to after a rubbish day. I just want someone else to feed the dogs for once! The little things that make life easier.

Now I know “people have it far worse than you”, and yes that is true. I’m sure there are single mums who cope with more than I do. There are people like my mum, grieving the loss of her husband who will never return. But that doesn’t mean I can’t flow with the ups and downs.

This is MY NORMAL!

Over and Out,

The Not Wife

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I wanted to share a little of my journey through grief with you. Why?! Because I wish I’d have understood more about the grieving process before it started. Before I experienced the loss!

Losing my amazing Dad has been the toughest, most self-defining time of my life. It made me question everything, it changed my view on life and it pushed me to confront fears I never knew I had.

The Beginning

We never saw it coming!

June 2018, Father’s Day. Little did we know, it’d be our last!

My Dad and I shared that day in a hospital observations ward. He’d had back pain for quite some time but this was something new. An odd lack of sensation had occurred. He couldn’t feel a rough towel on his legs like he normally could. After days of tests and scans, we got it. That dreaded diagnosis.

After months of pain and discomfort, we now knew why. Dad was told he had suspected Metastatic Renal Cell Carcinoma which had spread to his bones. His spine was full of lesions (cancerous cells), which had caused the discs to fracture, hence the pain! Then there was his age…he had only just turned 60 a month earlier!

World blown apart! And where was my darling not-husband during all of this? Well, deployed of course, these things don’t happen when they’re home! He’d already missed Dad’s surprise party in May and was not due back for another month!

Now what?!

A transfer to another hospital for immediate radiotherapy then back to the first to start chemotherapy. And so it began…

Anticipatory Grief

Something nobody talks about! Everyone assumes grief only occurs when someone has passed away…wrong!

Anticipatory grief is completely normal! Who knew?!

What is Anticipatory Grief?

Grief as we know it begins when a loved one passes away, however; anticipatory grief occurs much earlier – but can be just as powerful – whilst the person is still living. The person living with the illness can also experience this type of grief, as they lose the individual they once were.

Anticipatory grief pretty much means mourning the loss of the person that once was and the lifestyle they had.

Some people who experience this may feel more prepared for the loss, or the person with the illness may feel ready to ‘let go’. Whilst others will start the grieving process all over again once the death has actually occurred. There is no right or wrong way to grieve for a loved one.

The well known model by Kübler-Ross, suggests there are 5 stages of grief and that we can experience any or all stages, at any time during the grieving process.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

All of these stages can include various symptoms of anticipatory grief, both emotional and physical. Sadness, anxiety, fatigue, forgetfulness, fear, muscle tension, guilt, regret, headaches and loneliness, just to name a few.

For me, I was plagued with viral infections; coughs and colds that would usually disappear after a week. A combination of poor diet from meals on the go, sleepless nights and anxious nausea, made remaining healthy myself, so much harder.

Change!

When someone so close is diagnosed with a terminal illness, everything changes! Every thought you have becomes influenced. You consider things you’ve never once given a thought to before.

Depending on the type of illness your loved one has, many changes can occur in them too. Whether it be memory problems, mobility issues or losing their independence, all of these things have an impact. Sometimes it may not be the illness that causes the symptoms, but the medications themselves.

Dad was on morphine based medications for over a year and by the end was taking incredibly high doses. Opioid based pain relief have so many side effects I won’t even begin to start listing them. But that amount of drug is enough to change anyone’s personality!

Watching that person you love deteriorate in front of you is devastating! You feel sad for the times you can no longer share. You feel angry at the things they’ll miss out on but you also feel honoured to be able to care for them. Every emotion possible passes through your mind.

Back and Forth

Treatment began and hospitals became our daily routine. We were all exhausted! Restlessness sets in as you spend hour after hour staring at the same four walls. A combination of radiotherapy sessions and chemotherapy drugs was making Dad feel rotten. The sickness only caused more pain for his back and with each day that passed, he was losing more feeling from his ribs down!

This way happening quickly! Far quicker than any of us ever imagined!

We fluctuated between stages of grief. Anger, to denial, to bargaining and back again. We’d try anything to make this stop! Dad would agree to start eating healthier on one day, then ask, “what’s the point?”, the next.

By mid July, my wonderful not-husband was due back from deployment and it could not be more welcome! He’d left in April and all was well. By June he was face-timing Dad in hospital and being told off for making him laugh…because laughing with a broken back hurts!

Dad was back home when my not-husband returned. Now visiting consultants and Dr’s almost weekly and using crutches and a zimmer frame to get around the house. A big change from April when Dad was building himself a new shed from scratch!

August and September came and went. Dad lost more mobility week after week. He was now sleeping downstairs and with no hope of surgery or a cure, Dad refused any further treatment!

A devastating blow for the family but we had to respect Dad’s decision…no matter how hard that was to accept!

Had he reached the acceptance stage already, or was this the depression stage? Was he giving up on life?

Entering The Unknown

October arrived and Dad was feeling somewhat brighter without all the cancer drugs and injections. He and my brother had already postponed a road-trip across Europe, so it was now or never!

They spent a week driving through France, Germany and Austria, visiting all kinds of places along the way. Dad was really struggling with sitting in the Motorhome for so many hours at a time and was having trouble getting in and out, so they returned a day early.

November was looking bleak. Dad had been off all treatment for a month now and told he could deteriorate rapidly without the drugs. No real prognosis could be given as we didn’t know how aggressive it was. Hoping for the best was now our only option…

Like us, Mum and Dad were also ‘not-husband’ and ‘not-wife’, so after more than three decades together, this was another ‘now or never’ moment.

We applied for and were granted a waiver for the usual 30 days notice of marriage and with Dad now being fully wheelchair dependent, we had a sit down ceremony too. With just three weeks of planning, we managed to pull off the most magical day! A memory treasured by us all!

They were now husband and wife!

Is This It?! Is our loss imminent?!

Christmas wasn’t exactly a time of celebration as you can imagine. You begin thinking about the next one, where you know Dad won’t be there! The depression sets in for everyone. You wonder how life can ever be normal again?! The anger fills you with hate of how unfair this all is! The denial…because he’s my strong, powerful Dad, this can’t possibly happen to him!

Now almost completely bed-bound, Dad had pressure sores developing and infections hitting him from all directions. His immune system had been destroyed by the chemotherapy and radiation and the pain was unbearable. Admissions to hospital came for December; allowed home on Christmas Eve through compassion, returning on New Year’s Day.

January came with a different kind of admission. This time to a hospice. We thought, “this is it”. No one comes back out of a hospice…do they?! A syringe driver was put in and the reality is, that meant, ‘end of life’ drugs. Another devastating blow with reality hitting us in the face!

We thought, “He’s not going to see February”.

The anticipatory grief kicks back in. You start questioning everything! “Have we done enough?”, “Should we have sought a second opinion at the start?”, “Why didn’t we notice earlier?”, “Perhaps it’s been misdiagnosed?”, “Why Dad? He’s a good man.”, “What’s the point of all this?”

“How can this be it for a once fit, strong, healthy Dad, Grandad and Husband?”

Then the images of the future appear. You begin to see the things Dad will miss out on and you cry.

The Confusion

Now, I’m happy being a not-wife and have no plans to marry my not-husband any time soon, but February brought thoughts I never imagined would come. We attended a beautiful wedding which saw one of my closest friends tie the knot with her army man…being walked down the aisle by her father.

Oh the emotions! Whilst I was incredibly happy for our friends, it stirred emotions inside of me that I never knew I had. It was the “my Dad will never be able to do that” thought and that broke me. It hurt…but why, I’m not having a wedding…it just didn’t make sense!

I managed to hold it together right up until the reception, when I watched the bridesmaid dance with her father. It hit me all over again! The tears broke through and I had to get some air.

Life as we knew it…

After two weeks, Dad did leave the hospice and requested everything be managed at home. He signed a DNAR form which expressed his wishes not to be resuscitated and now had a hospital bed in the lounge. That form was Dad’s acceptance stage, he knew this was it and did not want to prolong the inevitable.

We were into the “any day now” mindset. Dad would spend a lot of the time ‘out of it’. With so much diamorphine, he was confused, hallucinating, vomitting, drowsy…the list is endless. He required 24 hour care and to begin with, we had no care package in place. Mum, my brothers and I were exhausted, both mentally and physically.

My own life was on hold, I wasn’t taking as good care of myself as I should have been and my housework was piling up. My sinus infection and bad chest had not cleared up, I was feeling awful every day, only for the Dr to tell me, “you just need to rest!”. HOW?!

Being self-employed, I’d given up a lot of my clients to free up more time to spend with Dad. It had become about quality rather than quantity and both were dwindling fast! Not working, coupled with daily pharmacy trips and visits to see Dad was taking its own kind of toll, financially.

By now, my not-husband was away again, but this time on exercise in the UK. He’d driven himself separately so that he could return home at a moments notice, without having to mess up anyone else’s day. Once that was complete, he was home again for a few weeks before we started ‘weekending‘. The timing sucked, but you don’t get to choose these things when you’re in the military. So we carried on the best we could.

Mum had asked if I wanted to be there when ‘it’ happened. I said yes!

The False Alarms

We started to think, “he’s definitely not going to make it to March”.

Mum had called me late one night to say, “I think this is it, you need to be here”.

So I drove over, preparing myself to say goodbye to my beautiful, kind-hearted Dad. We sat by his bedside for hours, comforting, reassuring and soothing him. He seemed to pull back from the edge and settle down.

He’s going to be okay for a little while longer…phew!

Then it happened again mid-March, the phone call of doom, I mentally prepared myself. I arrived to see Dad breathing very shallow and think, “tonight’s the night”.

Wrong again! Just a chest infection. A course of anti-biotics and Dad was back chatting, sitting in his chair and discussing engineering programmes on TV with my wonderful not-husband. How?! My Dad was so strong, he was defying the laws of medicine.

The ‘Crazy Brain’

“Well, he can’t possibly see April…can he?!” My emotions were shot to pieces, up and down like a yo-yo, constantly preparing myself to say goodbye. Preparing for that loss.

Every time I left, I’d wonder if that would be my last goodbye. “Did I remember to say, “I love you”? Did I give him a kiss? Had I hugged him tight enough?”

Every time my phone made a noise, the panic would set in, the fear would fill my mind.” Would this be the call to tell me my Dad has died?”

Nothing is the same.

I am not the same.

I don’t feel like ‘me’ any more. I’m struggling to stay afloat. Picking up medications every single day, because he’s on such high doses they can’t dispense any extra. I just want to sleep, but I can’t sleep for the worry in my mind. The uncertainty, the anticipation and angst of just not knowing! I’ve entered survival mode, I do whatever it takes just to get through the day, often running on autopilot, supporting everyone else to make sure they have what they need, whilst ignoring my own.

I wonder if this new anxious, on edge, tearful yet numb me, is the new ‘me’? Feeling the guilt of no longer being ‘me’, I question how on earth my amazing not-husband could want to be with this ‘new me’?! I ponder why he’s sticking around for all of this? Then he reminds me how much he loves me AND my family and I feel a little brighter. But that doesn’t last long, I’ve become hyper alert, I can’t switch off, I’m organising things in my head, I’m not present in the moment. The constant thoughts about what comes next…

The Final Curtain

21st April, Easter Sunday, 2019

My not-husband and I had been on a rare afternoon out together. A beautiful walk around a forest and a lake. Tranquility and calm. Just perfect!

1800hrs – On our way home, we popped in to see Dad. He’d said he was feeling pretty awful but had another chest infection, so that was to be expected. All seemed well, we chatted about our day out and caught up with my Auntie who was visiting. We said goodbye, I said, “I love you”, I hugged him and I gave him a kiss.

That was the last time.

2256hrs – “I think you need to be here”. We’d been here before more than once and as we’d only seen Dad a few hours earlier we weren’t expecting it. We sorted ourselves out, settled the dogs and got in the car. They only live 4 minutes away, so we’ve always been on hand.

2315hrs – “You’re too late, he’s at peace now”.

How can this be possible?! How could it happen so quick? Why did I not know earlier? What if I’d have left quicker? Did he wait for me to not be there?

I could torture myself with these thoughts all day long but the truth is, ‘it wasn’t meant to be’.

My beautiful, kind, caring, intelligent, amazing Dad had gone. It was all over! The sorrow hit. The tears flowed. My heart broke for my dear Mum who’d lost her soul mate. How would she be able to carry on without him? How would any of us cope with this huge loss in our life?

Published on 20th May, in loving memory of my incredible Dad, who would have been 61 today!

The Not Wife

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Part Two – After The Loss – coming soon.

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