My partially empty nest

SO yesterday we took the Eldest to Falmouth to start her University career. I have spent the last 3 weeks listening to slipping through my fingers and feeling really really apprehensive at the forthcoming separation.

I must say the last few days leading up to her departure were AWFUL- everyone was on the knife edge of temper, and in true teenage style she prioritised saying goodbye to her friends 56 times each over sorting out her room, getting stuff ready and generally being involved in the physical moving work. By Thursday I had gone from total devastation to knowing full well why some species eat their own young :0

So eventually Saturday rolled around- we left the younger 3 with Granny and we packed her and all her belongings onto the van with myself, husband and Dog. We had a really good run down to Cornwall and had a right giggle and I had no need for tissues at all. We arrived at Falmouth Campus and it was running like clockwork- they had loads of people directing you to the correct car parks and everyone was really friendly. It is a gorgeous campus- everything is on site so they are very contained and therefore it feels very safe. It looks more like Center Parcs than a campus!

We went to the student union and she had to go down and collect her flat keys and freshers week stuff and they had very kindly laid on tea and coffee for the parents in the upstairs bar. I went up there to pop to the loo and I don't know what finally tipped me over the edge but it was just so REAL. I ended up locking myself in a cubicle and just howling like a wounded animal. How could I leave her here? 5 minutes ago I was in Southmead hospital buttoning her into her little yellow newborn cardigan.  She was starting school, she was going to parties at soft play, learning to ride a bike and playing Singstar! It went against all my instincts to leave her in this strange place in a huge flat full of strangers. She might starve, she might be scared and lonely and its my job to protect her from the big scary world.

I tried to hold it together as she came out, fizzing with excitement clutching her student card, that states she is studying for a BA in Photography *proud* I didn't want to weep and wail and either upset her or make her feel sad. We went and found her accommodation and met some of her flatmates. They were all nice and the whole place was full of excited teams and red eyed, gritted teeth parents. We decided just to unload her and disappear- we wanted to let her get on with it without us trying to remain cheerful and our dog who shouldn't have been in the accommodation anyway!

Goodbye was hard- it felt like dropping her off on holiday- this summer she has been to Portugal, Wales and a festival in Cornwall and didn't come on our annual family holiday so the separating has been slowly working itself in, quietly and without too much pomp! It didn't sink in that we are not going to see her until Christmas and that she now lives there. She is very mature and sensible and I am so happy she has got there- her ultimate goal was photography at Falmouth and she worked her socks off to gain her A* at A level and secure her place. But surely, surely she should be playing on her Nintendo DS and letting me do her hair ready for starting high school.

Another feeling I battled with all day was a weird sense of disappointment that I myself never did the Uni thing. I left home when I was 17 and three years later was attending scans an antenatal appointments as she burst into my life. I have NO regrets and wouldn't change anything but I can just tell Uni is going to be a BLAST and seeing her starting out, in a lovely shared flat with nice new mates and a whole new experience of her course looks like SO MUCH FUN! jealous!

We're back home now and her next youngest sibling has already merrily moved into her room. My younger three are 12,11 and 7 so the nest is by no means empty! It feels no different as she was so often out but every now and again I remember she's living there not here and I lose my breath, just for a minute. The invisible umbilical cord stretches a little more, and my heart aches. Then Pride floods back in and silences the fear, worry and sadness. Pride is getting stronger, pride and excitement of watching the journey unfold. Christmas and a visit home seems a long way off but it will quickly come round and we will be reunited to hear about all her adventures and exciting new life........

So its been a while............

And wow what a year. I finally had my Bowel Resection surgery on May 18th as planned and it was a great success. I didn't have the stoma I was marked up for 3 days before the surgery, they managed to do all they needed laparoscopically so my scarring is as minimal as it could be and my recovery was as quick as it could be. But after my surgery I was SO ILL! I had a morphine pump the night after the surgery and apparently I pressed the button 65 times that night. I also had a central line in my neck which had 3 ports leading into my heart to take out blood and put in drugs, an oxygen tube up my nose and a catheter! My friend Steph came in to visit me the night after I came up from theatre and I was able to pose for selfies with her, give everyone a grin and a thumbs up before I slept off my anaesthetic..............However the next day they took away my morphine pump and I started the Vomit Days. OMG was I ever sick. My friend Steph came back to visit again with her husband and I was literally too ill to see them. I heard her going back down the corridor going "But she was FINE yesterday! I don't understand" I believe I was fine due to the morphine :) I continued to be sick for 4 more days and completely lost my appetite. As Ive spoken about in this blog before I LOVE my food and I couldn't eat ANYTHING. The staff were encouraging me to eat and I just couldn't. I couldn't even eat a quarter of a slice of toast or the chocolate goodies my mum bought in. Eventually I managed to eat some Rice Krispies and I don't even like cereal..........

Anyway its now 14 weeks from my operation and my scars are pretty well healed and I have rejoined the gym and actually started running again in the last month. I have just signed up for a 5km at the end of October as something to aim for. The kids ago back to school this week and I feel really ready to get back on the fitness wagon. My oldest daughter goes off to uni for the first time on Saturday *sob* and Im using not seeing her until christmas to shift some weight and get my fitness back up.

I have to have a colonoscopy in December to see if there is any sign of inflammation, and therefore my crohns being back. I feel so well compared to before the op that Im really hoping and praying that it hasn't come back.

So- my plan is as follows....back to walking the dog every day - Im aiming for 5km, Carry on running with the Sweatshop Running Community on a Weds eve, Go back to the gym for my dance class on a Thursday, Body Combat on a Friday and then weights etc in the gym as and when.

Its nice to be back...........