My name is Louise, I’m soon to be 36 and I am the mother of two beautiful girls aged 3.5 years and 7 months. My mother died when I was 8, she was 39. It still brings tears to my eyes to say that. I have struggled with the loss of my mother hugely since the birth of my first daughter and even more so since the birth of my second. Why? I guess that I now understand how much she loved me and what I’ve actually lost; more so… what she’s lost. Up until I was a mother myself, I didn’t get that. I was sad, I missed her but I didn’t ache the way I do now. My intention with this blog is firstly a release for me but more importantly, in the long term, I want other mothers who have lost their own mother to know they are not alone and hopefully find some comfort and understanding. Friends and family try to understand but they don’t. They get it wrong without even realising a lot of the time and that is to be expected. Life goes on, people shouldn’t need to think about my feelings every time they open their mouths should they? I have felt so angry for such a long time now that my children will never know their maternal grandmother; that she wasn’t there to be excited about becoming a grandmother or breathe in that newborn smell that is irreplaceable and mostly that I can’t turn to her when I need her. That is (perhaps rather selfishly) the hardest part. I don’t find being a mother easy. I find it hard. I love sleep and don’t get enough of it; I don’t have the patience that I thought I had and I don’t have anyone to base my mothering on because the memories are fading. I am making it up as I go along and hoping for the best. I do have people around me who care and are willing to be that person that I turn to but I don’t want any of them, I just want my mum. Today wasn’t the best day. The big one tested my tolerance levels to the brink and the small one screamed alot and I couldn’t call the one person who I knew would just listen….but…
This is a new beginning.
Mother without a mother. 