1. It's a normal day like any other. Husband is at work, me and the kid are hanging out doing play doh or lego. Just chilling out, thinking about going to the park and seeing the ducks or maybe sneaking to the supermarket for some yummies when the doorbell goes. Little man gets super excited and I wonder who it can be. I buzz them through and open the door. Two police officers walk up the stairs with solemn looks on their face. There's been an incident. Injured in the line of duty. Died at the scene. Words words words but nothing going in. The whole world crashing down around, white noise buzzing and a little voice saying 'Hello Mum-ma' as I fall to my knees in disbelief.
2. They should've been back by now. Looks at phone again. No messages. I know they went out to give me a bit of time off. A chance to catch up on Downton Abbey. But now I feel guilty and it's getting dark and they should've been back by now and maybe I should ring them. Don't be silly. Go do some hoovering or something. It's nearly dinner time. Starts to prep the dinner. They really should be home by now. Finally! The door opens. It's just the husband. Where's the baby? Where's my little boy? What the hell has happened? Official looking people follow through the door. I'm frantic but they're holding me back. Where is he? He was snatched. At the park. I have to do something. I can't even look at him. They've got my baby. I will end them.
3. If I ever fall pregnant again. Those first 12 weeks. That excitement when you realise you're late and then you do the test and it's positive and you spend hours and hours and hours whispering to each other about it because you don't want anyone to know. And then you tell the parentals and they get excited and then it becomes even more excited because it's 6 weeks now and you've seen the Nurse and the appointment for the 12-week scan has come through the post. It's just an exciting waiting game now before you see them. But.. something just doesn't feel quite right. It's not the same as before. But you keep quiet because you don't want to jinx it. 11 weeks and then it happens. At first you try to pretend there's nothing there. Its just spotting. But you know. You just know. And then the pain. The gut wrenching agony both physically and mentally as you sit in A&E and no-one seems to care. No-one does anything. They just stare at you, bent double, tears streaming down your face. 1 in 4, very common, try again, off you go. Two days later and .... we chose to bury. I can't do that again.
4. The dark. Not only that darkness at night that hides the monsters and witches and fiends out to get you but also that darkness within. That ability to be mean, to do bad things, to think nasty thoughts. Knowing that some people give in to that darkness, seeing examples of human atrocities on the news every day and realising that everyone is capable of that and much much worse. The darkness of being alone and having no-one to love you. The darkness of being misunderstood and having no-one to talk to. The darkness of fear induced nightmares after reading deliciously dark and evil literature. The darkness of an overactive imagination in a creaky house with flickering lights and cold spots.
5. Death. I'd like to say I'll great him like an old friend in many many years time but I cannot know that for sure. I have no guarantee that he will be Pratchett-esque, that he even exists at all. What frightens me most is ending and having no idea it happened. When we fall asleep we have no memory of doing so. We know we go to bed, we know we wake up in the morning but we don't know the moment of sleep nor are we aware of being asleep. It is said that dying is like sleeping. We exist and then nothing. Gone. To blackness. To being unaware. To the void. How can we not be frightened of that.
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