So, those who know me know I’m a crier.  Alongside being a nacho loving, crazy cat lady, crier is up there as one of my most prominent character traits.  Always has been, probably always will be. 

DIY SOS?  Pass me the man sized box of Kleenex.  I’ve even been known to cry at TV adverts (I blame John Lewis!) and was once found in a heap on the kitchen floor in tears because I couldn’t find the washing up bowl to clean the floor (I blame PMS for that one!  LOL!). 

It’s how I deal with pretty much every emotion.  Happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, hunger…..it’s my outlet.  I’ve sniffled my way through many an argument and pretty much every work appraisal, even when they’ve been good, much to the amusement of my colleagues (I’m sure they take bets on it!).  

But the one time I didn’t cry?  When I suffered a ruptured ectopic pregnancy as a result of my fourth round of IVF.  Well, apart from the little weep I may have had as a result of the lady opposite me snoring like a train ALL NIGHT LONG!  

Now it may have been because I was smacked off my mammaries on morphine or distracted and mortified by the fact Mr W had managed to pick a PJ top that you could quite clearly see my areolas through, but it often baffles me how I got through that tear free.  It certainly doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.  Make no mistake, it hurt in many more ways than just the obvious.  But I managed to hold it together when I was being shown the images of my innards and the mess that could have very nearly killed me, of the remnants of what might have been our very own little person.  

But tomorrow I’m preparing for some big, fat tears as I say goodbye to my Godmother who unexpectedly passed away a couple of weeks ago.  I can’t actually believe I’m writing it – I don’t think it’s sunk in – but tomorrow we celebrate the life of a very special lady.  And the tears I’ll cry?  Won’t only be of sadness, but of gratitude for being lucky enough to have had her in my life x


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