Anzac Day 2021
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Early this morning, The Princess Royal & Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence attended the Anzac Day Dawn Service at Wellington Arch, on behalf of The Royal Family. On Anzac Day we pay tribute to all those who gave their lives serving in the Australian & New Zealand Army Corps.
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The Princess Royal laid a wreath at both the Australian & New Zealand War Memorials, & signed a Book of Remembrance.
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I found a clip on instagram one day and it was about little William trying to do makeup on his mother’s face (Princess Diana), their interaction was so cute that I couldn’t resist drawing it!! Since today is Mother’s Day and the drawing is about mother and child, I’m here to wish all the mothers a happy Mother’s Day!!
The sort of pain that would irradiate from her body and made her wonder if anyone could see it, as its force was undeniably present.
She felt nothing but pain.
She could deal with the soreness on her body. It felt as if she had run a marathon.
She could also deal with the heavy cramps that she was feeling ever since she woke up. As if she needed any reminder of what had just happened. She hadn’t asked for any medication to relieve her pain because she wanted to feel it. She wanted to be punished for what she had done.
What she couldn’t deal with was the emotional pain that had destroyed her and its relentless waves that kept shaking every single thought that crossed her mind. The waves were like a tsunami that with its violence and fast approach took away and destroyed everything it touched and she was drowning. Completely and willingly.
The waves made her remember everything that had happened a few hours ago.
The waves brought an emotional pain that shattered her dreams and hopes and wishes. Mocking her, showing the failure she had been. This earth-shattering feeling turned her world, mind, life and body upside down. She didn’t even have more tears to cry as they had dried somewhere in the middle of the night.
She was alone as she had wanted to be and surrounded only by sounds. Sound of the machine she was hooked to, sounds of the clock that showed her that time was going to pass whether or not she was ready for it, the sirens of the ambulances coming in and out of the emergency ward and the cries of a new baby that was born just down the corridor from her room. She longed to have had the chance to at least listen to her child cry. To have carried her pregnancy to term and to taste the happiness this new mom was probably feeling at the moment. And yet, here she was. Empty-handed, alone, bleeding and miserable.
She wanted to get up and run, possibly hide from everyone. Should she had the strength for it, she would have. But she could barely move a finger, let alone run.
She placed one hand on her belly. The same one she caressed the growing baby just the morning before, praying with all her might and force that everyone was lying to her. Wishing this all was a very bad joke, a tasteless prank. Everyone must be wrong.
But deep inside she knew it was true.
She knew that her body had been giving signs and she didn’t pay attention to it. She worked and travelled as if she wasn’t growing a tiny human inside her and now, funny enough, she really wasn’t anymore.
Maybe it would be for the best? If she couldn’t take proper care of a baby inside her, what would happen once the baby was born?
She would be better off alone and childless as she couldn’t bear to be responsible for anyone else’s death. She took a deep breath and felt every muscle hurt, her head was about to explode. She knew she couldn't speak as she had yelled until she scarred all of her vocal cords.
Her hands and arms were purple and swollen as she had tried to unhook herself from the blood transfer bag a nurse had hooked her to close to 2 in the morning. Her hair was in knots and her hospital gown was still bloodied.
Another proof of her failure and another brutal reminder that she had just lost her child.
She had lost her everything. She had lost her will to live because nothing else made sense anymore. Her unborn baby had become the centre of her life, her strength, her reason and her motivation.
Well, not really – her malicious mind reminded her, - if this baby was that important you wouldn’t have let it die. You didn’t even fight for it, you simply passed out and almost bled yourself to death.
Pathetic.
She would never know if the baby was a boy or a girl. She would never know if he or she would have her green eyes or Harry’s blue. If its complexion would be pale as Harry, chocolate as hers or a nice mix in the between. She didn’t know if he or she would be ginger. Could she even have a ginger baby?
She wouldn’t know its face. If it would have dimples, curly or straight hair. If it’d have the unmistakable Windsor genes or it’d be a Nogueira through and through. She wouldn’t know how is it like to feel the baby moving inside her. She wouldn’t know how labour would be or if she’d chicken out from the pain and ask for a c-section straight away. She wouldn’t know if she’d be able to breastfeed – if she’d like it or if she’d prefer to buy formulas.
She wouldn’t make her mum a grandmother.
And she wouldn’t give her man a child. The child he was expecting and dreaming about. The child he had built plans for. The child he was searching for a house to transform into a home for them.
The child he was willing to give up his title for.
Everything she got now was pain and shame and guilt and grief.
Why was it happening to her? Was she that bad of a person that this would be some sort of payback?
What makes you so important that you can’t go through something like this? Her evil-filled mind asked her.
She heard footsteps on the corridor and saw her door opening. Agnes was there, smiling. The pain she felt blinded her from seeing the truth in Agnes’ eyes. She was devastated. She knew that miscarriages were a common thing between women, but she hated every time it happened to one of her patients. With Carol, it seemed she had lost her grandchild such was the esteem she held for the brunette in front of her.
She took a tentative step towards the bed and Carol noticed it was way past nine in the morning. She had been awake the whole night.
“Good morning, Carolina.” Agnes asked, getting her file and reading the notes the other nurses had written. “How are you physically feeling?” she worded her question carefully.
Carol didn’t respond. She kept staring at the clock. Fixated on it. Hearing its tic, toc. It was comforting to know that time wouldn’t wait for her to get her shit together. And time was the only thing that she wanted now.
She would give everything she had for a moment in time to stop before she lost her child. She would give everything to have more time with the baby that even though was unplanned wasn’t not even by a single second unwanted.
She wanted to rewind time and do things differently and save her baby.
She always heard that mothers fight for their children and if need be, even give their lives for them. That was what Carol wanted to do. Be a mother to this child. Give her life in exchange for his or hers. She knew Harry would take good care of their baby even if she wasn’t around.
“Carolina?” Agnes called her, firmer this time. Carol had shut her out and not even remembered that she was in the room. She didn’t blink, she just stared at the damn clock and knew that it was laughing at her expense.
“I need you to please talk to me.” Agnes said, sitting by her side on the bed.
Carol didn’t move. She couldn’t, she was paralysed watching the clock.
“I know what you must be feeling...” Agnes said.
There it was. Pity and sympathy. Two things Carol didn’t need at that moment.
“And I want you to know that I did everything that I could to save your baby.” the doctor said, grabbing one of Carol’s hands gently.
Did she really? Her brain asked.
“I want you to tell me what you want.” Agnes tried again and Carol almost laughed. She wanted her child. Alive and well. There was nothing anyone could possibly give her at the moment that would make her feel better.
“I will give you space, then.” Agnes sighed. “A nurse will come to help you take a shower and change clothes.” she got up and stared at the girl she treated like a daughter. She seemed like a shell of the woman she once was. Staring at the clock and shutting everyone out. Agnes gently left the room and took a deep breath. She could only hope that Carol would bounce back from this. If she kept giving herself into the pain for too long, she wouldn’t make it.
(…)
Harry had spent the night awake. He sat by the window of his living room with a bottle of scotch beside him. He stared at the entrance of his house for the whole night and saw when the sun rose. He had drunk half of the bottle by that time and was irritated that it didn’t give him a buzz nor lessened the pain. He thought about compartmentalising it and go out and about on his day, as he had two engagements to be at but he knew he couldn’t do it. He wanted to feel the pain and go through it while it all was still fresh. If he bottled up everything it was bound to come back exploding in the future. He also knew that Carol wouldn’t forgive him if she saw that he was smiling for the cameras and hugging kids mere hours after theirs had died.
If she speaks to you again. His mind remembered.
He had been hurt by Carol’s outburst the night before. He tried to understand where she was coming from, but he didn’t think that she’d kick him out of the room that way. He had called the hospital and Agnes informed him Carol wasn’t speaking to anyone, or eating. She had tried to rip off the IVs from her arms and hands in the middle of the night.
He took a deep breath and texted Edward to let him know that he wanted all his engagements of that damn week cancelled and rescheduled. He also wanted to reschedule all engagements that had children involved for the upcoming months as farther away as possible. He couldn’t bear to be around children when his hadn’t made it.
Agnes had talked to him after they left Carol’s room and she was confident that Carol’s case fell under the more frequently than expected, she didn’t believe Carol had any sort of condition that would make things harder to have a child in the future. Miscarriage is something very common and sometimes it might be related to other complicating issues, but in other cases, it's simply nature being faithful to its course of only the strongest and most adaptable survives.
Edward replied asking lots of questions as to why those changes were needed and Harry simply ignored him. He wouldn’t come back to work until he felt at least a little bit better.
If you feel better at any point.
He felt like a black cloud was above his head numbing his senses and at the same time swallowing him whole.
He got up and went to his room without really thinking or registering what he was doing. He took a shower, got dressed and dried the tears that kept coming every time he thought about what had happened. He had drunk the night before trying to erase from his mind the scene of the woman of his life bleeding and losing their child.
What if he had asked her to go to Kensington, where Gerard and Martha would have kept an eye on her? What if he hadn’t offered to accompany his grandmother to the engagement, therefore, arriving earlier at her place? Why didn’t she tell him anything about blood pressure problems and migraines?
He knew that “what ifs” wouldn’t bring him any closer to changing the outcome of the events. And decided he needed to keep himself busy. Getting his car keys and without letting anyone from his security team know, he drove outside Kensington Palace straight to Carol’s apartment. He let himself in and he dreaded entering her bedroom but he knew he had to get things done and if her reaction last night was any indicator, she wouldn’t deal well if she saw all that blood.
He emailed her boss letting him know that she was in the hospital and that she would keep him posted. He grabbed all the sheets and duvet, almost ripping them off the mattress with rage and threw them inside the washing machine. He cleaned the floor, the furniture and searched inch by inch of the apartment for any spot of blood. When he found none, he made her bed with new sheets and packed her an overnight bag.
He then drove straight to the back entrance of St. Mary’s, getting out of the car and ignoring all the calls on his phone. Edward, Bill, his father… he didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now.
He went straight to the private wing where half a floor had been cleared after Harry was made aware someone had just given birth a few doors down the corridor from Carol’s room. He immediately demanded they were transferred to another wing.
He knocked on her door and opened it to find only a shadow of the woman he once had met.
She had her hair wet, soft curls forming around her face. She was half-sitting on the hospital bed and she was staring at a fixed point on the wall above the door. Harry closed the door after coming in and left the bag on the chair by the bed.
“Hey...” he said approaching her. She didn’t even move or acknowledge his presence. “I brought you a change of clothes and a few personal items. I emailed your boss saying that you’re at the hospital and that we will keep him posted.”
He waited for a reply but didn’t receive one. He tried to caress her head but she dodged his hand. Just another pain to feel. He saw she didn’t touch breakfast and that it was laying on the table across from them.
“Do you want any help to eat?” Harry tried again, looking at her. She didn’t look or talk to him. He noticed that she was staring at a clock and one could cut the tension inside that room with a knife.
“Carol, please…. Talk to me. We need to communicate to be able to grieve properly.” Harry said, sitting on the bed. “I haven’t slept the other night and for what I heard, neither have you.”
Tic, toc. Tic, toc. Tic, toc.
Only the sound of the clock could be heard there.
“Carol? I know what you’re feeling, but please, let me know what I can do to help.”
“Nothing.” her voice was cracked and hoarse and only above a whisper. But that was progress.
“I know I can’t bring our child back...” he started.
“All I want is time to go back.” She replied, looking at the clock and Harry was starting to feel irritated by that damn thing.
“I’m sorry about what happened.” Harry said, trying to grab her hand but she fiercely snatched it out from his hold.
“Don’t touch me. Why is everyone touching me now? Why is everyone bothering me with empty words of sympathy and promises when no one knows what really happened and no one can fucking give me time.” She said and he struggled to hear her well and understand what she was saying.
Both Agnes and him had stayed just outside Carol’s door for more than an hour listening to her screams, almost entering the room again every now and then to try and calm her but deciding against it.
“At least you’re talking now.” Harry said, looking at her. She looked frail and broken. Just like he was.
“I told you to get out. Just leave me the fuck alone.” She finally looked at him and he saw so much pain and hatred in her gaze that his heart broke into a million pieces yet again.
“If that’s what you want.” he got up and opened the door. “I will be back tomorrow.” he said leaving the room.
“Don’t bother” she replied not sure if he heard her.
He did.
(…)
Once inside his car, he thought about going back home to try and sleep a bit but his heart wanted him elsewhere. He wanted to grieve with Carol. He wanted her support to go through this and he wanted to support her as well.
He knew that she had taken the heavier blow on this, as she was the one carrying the baby, but she should also know that he was hurt. He was scared of losing both of them. If she was up to it, they’d start trying to have another child as soon as possible. And he knew that any child he could have with her or anyone else would never replace the one they lost.
His life had gained so much more meaning and purpose when he knew he had to be a role model for someone. That he’d get to parent his child and make him or her the best version of him and Carol together.
He just kept driving and trying to calm his shattered heart. He didn’t know where he was going or how he was driving. He turned off his phone. He didn’t want to see anybody. He didn’t want to talk to anybody. He just wanted his child alive and well.
He was startled when he recognised the black iron gates of the property. He had driven for an hour and a half without noticing where he was headed but it somehow made sense. He knew who he needed the most at the moment and unfortunately, she also wasn’t around to embrace him and promise that everything would be OK.
The guards promptly opened the gates and greeted him. For the first time, he didn’t reply and simply kept driving until he reached the stables on the background of the imposing Estate. He killed the engine and got off his car and walked the long gravel path until he approached the lake.
It was a sunny day and he put his shades on. He walked and was taken by emotion when he was right in front of it. He opened the shed, took out the small boat and pushed it until it was on the water, getting in and rowing his way to the island in the middle of the oval lake. He got out of the boat and when on land, his knees almost gave away and with trembling lips and heavy tears he approached the centre of the island where he could see, engraved in marble, the words “Loving mother”.
“Mummy,” Harry said, kneeling before her grave. “I’ve failed mummy. I couldn’t protect the people that I love and now I’ve lost them.”
He cried. Each tear made his body tremble and his lips quiver. He out-poured all the emotions held inside feeling safe to do so in that place. Feeling safe that his heart had unconsciously brought him where his mum was eternally resting.
“How do I make this pain go again, Mummy?” he cleaned his face with his palm. “It hurts so fucking much. I’ve lost my child. Your grandchild. And I think I’ve lost my girl too.”
The peaceful scenery only made it worse to balance the turmoil inside Harry’s heart and mind.
“I need you here with me.” he whispered. “But you’ve also been taken away from me too soon. Why?”
He cried his tears and his sobs were cutting through his body and shaking it. He thought he would never be able to recover from this. Never. He was a different man and now he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“I don’t think I can get through this.” Harry said, looking at Diana’s grave and embracing his bent knees.
He stayed there the whole afternoon. If his uncle and cousins knew that he was there, thankfully no one approached the oval island. He cried and opened his heart to his mother, knowing that she’d listen to him. Knowing that she’d be taking care of him.
When the sun began to set he knew it was time to come back.
“Mummy, could you please take care of my baby with you in heaven? I don’t know if its a boy or a girl but I don’t care. Please tell him or her that we love him so much it hurts and we wish things could’ve been different. I don’t know how his mother and I will survive this searing pain.”
Harry cleaned the tears again and spoke just above a whisper.
“We did our very best but unfortunately that wasn’t God’s wish for us. Please cuddle our child in your arms the way you did with me and Wills. Love on him as you did on us. Both of you are greatly missed. And I love you both with all my being. I know that my baby is now with his grandmother and nothing bad can happen if he’s under your watch. I love you, mummy. And I love you, baby.”
King Arthur’s round table in the Winchester’s Great Hall 👑 #winchesterbloggers #history #britishroyal #canonphotography #travelphotography (at The Great Hall Winchester)
Say hello to @britishcassis, the new liquid to hit the Drinks Enthusiast portfolio come February! Look out for a whole new #KirRoyal twist for your sparkling serve 🍾🍸#British #Cassis #Herefordshire #Cocktails #BritishRoyal (at Manchester, United Kingdom)
