For a long time after Poop’s death we kept his bedroom as his room with his things mostly as they were when he died.
Although he never slept in it when he was alive the hospice arranged for us to have a cool mattress so he could spend the time there between dying and the funeral. This was an incredibly special time and I’m so thankful they did this for us.
When Carter got a bit older I started to realise that our tiny bungalow was struggling. Carter slept in our bedroom and all his clothes were squeezed into one drawer. The lounge was overflowing with his toys and things. I came to the decision it wasn’t fair on Carter not to have a bedroom with his books out for him to see and all his toys in their own home. It was also getting increasingly hard to stop Carter playing with Jude’s things.
Emotionally it took its toll moving Jude’s belongings. Having them packed away has been hard as I miss being able to glance at his favourite toys.
At the same time I know it was the ‘right’ decision because Carter needed that space. We had a planning application in to extend our house so I always planned to turn that room back to Jude’s once we built Carter his own bedroom.
Things have changed. My husband saw a house that he really wanted me to go and look at. I went thinking ‘no chance’, but I walked in and could see how wonderful it could be for Carter and us.
So we put our house on the market in the hope that someone else doesn’t snap up the house we’ve fallen in love with for our next home.
When the first person came to view our house I could hear him looking in Jude & Carter’s room. I nearly cried as I wanted to run in and tell him to leave, it was Jude’s room and I couldn’t deal with him assessing it and I just didn’t feel in that moment I could sell our house.
Since then we’ve had more viewings and I’ve got more comfortable with the idea. Mentally as I meet each viewer I’m deciding whether I’m happy to sell them my precious home and what feels like all my precious memories.
I spoke to the counsellor at Shooting Star Chase hospice about selling and moving. I’m scared I’ll lose more memories and if someone else tells me that Jude is in my heart I’ll scream. Those memories are so precious and I’ll never get back the smell of our house and of his room.
The silver birch trees that Poop would be transfixed on make me feel closer to him when I look at the them. Leaving them will be so hard. The counsellor suggested I take photos of these and have one blown up in our new home. It obviously won’t be the same but is a good idea to help. I plan to film those trees moving so I can remember exactly what the leaves looked like as they blow in the wind.
I don’t want anyone to think that by me moving house I’m ‘moving on’. You just don’t move on from your child’s death. You learn to live with it and over time I have learnt that I have to make decisions about what is best for my living family. Non of that equates to moving on.
So the plan is to move house. Who knows how I’ll deal with it when it actually becomes a reality.
Miss you Poop. Miss all of our moments – when you were here and when you had died… Just being at home together.