Yesterday I took my youngest boy to Rottnest Island for the day. The last time he was there, in utero, I thought I’d lost him. I had left the island totally guttered and utterly bereft. With summer weather coming to an end it seemed like the right time to go back, get some closure and re-establish a happier relationship with my much loved island.
The boy feel asleep pretty much as soon as we arrived on the island. Not known for his good sleeping it was rather ironic that he slept for what seemed like an eternity. The island certainly suited him – he had an unheard of second nap in the afternoon. These sleepy moments afforded me some much needed reflection time, processing what had been such a traumatic event on the island. The tumultuous pregnancy that followed, looking after three children, working full time and suffering from both pleurisy and pneumonia finished with a hideously dramatic birth. Wowzas.
Yet here we were, together on Rottnest Island, two years since we’d last been there on the most glorious of glorious sun shiny days. The golden sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky. It had been a gloomy cold and overcast day when we’d left last time. We’d come full circle. We’d turned it around. We’d weathered the storm. There was so much to be thankful for, and the feeling of being blessed overwhelmed my heart and on more than a few times I spontaneous burst into tears, tears of pure joy.
This little smiley boy is so gorgeous. Such an affectionate little soul, so many hugs and so many kisses. Such a cutie saying hello the quokkas, he’s a big fan of seagulls too. We walked, we talked, we made sandcastles and we swam.
There was even some time for some crochet too while staring out at the horizon.
A perfect day.