Sometimes we run out of milk. Actually we often run out of milk, and this fact is only realised at about 11pm. Sometimes it's the end of the week and, at 11pm, with three kids running amok, it's something a little stronger than milk that I'm after. Regardless, I find myself at the local garage about a mile up the road, because it's the only place that's open.
There's a lovely lady who works the night shift there, and she has become a familiar face to me: "How are you? Ok?" is my usual greeting. But one night, about three months ago, it was clear she was far from ok. Her normal grin was replaced by a face full of worries. She began to tell me about her daughter, who had given birth prematurely to a little boy who had been transferred to St Thomas' Hospital in London due to problems with his heart and breathing.
After knowing this, my visits to the garage late at night became nothing to do with needing supplies, but just to know how this little baby and his mum were getting on. News was up and down, but the most distressing element was discovering the lack of contact the mum was able to have with her baby - it's very hard when you wish so much for the mum to be able to cuddle her baby, but an utter lack of medical training meant that, despite my best instincts, I didn't feel qualified to help, beyond passing on links about the positive help skin to skin contact can give. (Thank you Rosie Knowles). It's not just that, though - I feel full of regret for not following my instinct to just go down there and be there, to offer physical support...
This little chap never learnt to breathe on his own, and his mum was only able to hold him for two brief moments in his life. Sadly, he lost his fight earlier this month.
Two new striped wraps will be available online on Thursday 27th April at 13:00 BST, called Breathe and Moment, because it reminds me to take a moment to breathe and appreciate life even more, and in memory of Pauline's tiny grandson, who didn't have enough moments to breathe...
