Three years ago this week we were told the devastating news that our beautiful daughter was going to die, they could do no more for her. She was 23 years old for god's sake, too young to die, she had her whole life ahead of her, so much to live for, so much to give. I've never really spoke openly about this before, how I felt when we heard those words. You don't feel anything at first, you go numb it's not real, it's not happening to you, they are talking to someone else, it can't be us surely? The world is spinning round, I feel sick, I can hear Claire crying saying 'No, my girls, what about my girls?' I want to help her, to make it better for her, but I can't. I'm helpless, totally helpless, I cannot give her a hug and kiss like mums do and make the pain go away, nothing I can do can make any difference now. My beautiful brave daughter is dying and I can't do a thing to help her.
I put my arms around her, try to soothe her, I don't know what to say. I want to say it will be alright, just like she said to me when they couldn't do the first operation, but it won't be alright this time. I just sit there with her and we sob together for what seems like hours. From that minute I hardly ever left Claire's side, I was with her 24/7, every single moment with her was precious, so very precious, just once over the next few weeks I left her side for just 48 hours where I had no choice in the matter. That was the worst 48 hours ever.
If my Claire had been given a smear test at 20 I would not be sitting here writing this today, I would be off out having Sunday lunch with her and her gorgeous little girls. Instead I sit here gazing into the sky thinking is she up there, can she see me? I spend most of my life now just gazing out of the window, deep in thought thinking about the past and wondering what life would be like if Claire was still here. I try to picture her sitting on the clouds waving down at me. What I would give to just see her one more time, to tell her how much I love her, to put my arms around her, to hear her say 'Hiya mum what you up too?' I miss her so so much, the pain today feels worse than the day she fell asleep and left our lives forever.
For you Claireabell my beautiful brave angel. Sweet dreams xxxxxx
I put my arms around her, try to soothe her, I don't know what to say. I want to say it will be alright, just like she said to me when they couldn't do the first operation, but it won't be alright this time. I just sit there with her and we sob together for what seems like hours. From that minute I hardly ever left Claire's side, I was with her 24/7, every single moment with her was precious, so very precious, just once over the next few weeks I left her side for just 48 hours where I had no choice in the matter. That was the worst 48 hours ever.
If my Claire had been given a smear test at 20 I would not be sitting here writing this today, I would be off out having Sunday lunch with her and her gorgeous little girls. Instead I sit here gazing into the sky thinking is she up there, can she see me? I spend most of my life now just gazing out of the window, deep in thought thinking about the past and wondering what life would be like if Claire was still here. I try to picture her sitting on the clouds waving down at me. What I would give to just see her one more time, to tell her how much I love her, to put my arms around her, to hear her say 'Hiya mum what you up too?' I miss her so so much, the pain today feels worse than the day she fell asleep and left our lives forever.
For you Claireabell my beautiful brave angel. Sweet dreams xxxxxx
One day you will be together again, no mum should every have to go through the pain of losing a daughter especially not what a simple change in procedure could of prevented this.
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