Auntie Jane.

Never in a million years did I think that I’d be writing another post so soon about losing somebody close to me. You’d think that after experiencing so much in life, there would come a time when things would change, you’d eventually catch a break and better things would start happening instead. But here we are… back again.

You may recall me mentioning Jane in previous posts. This is because she has been such a huge part of our journey – the journey of us trying to have a family. Along with many others, she’s pretty much been with us, hand in hand, keeping us going whilst we navigate this really shitty path.

For those of you who don’t know – Jane is James’ Auntie.

I don’t think many people could sit here and say that their partners Aunt played such a significant role in their lives – but I can, as she did in mine. I’ve never connected so well with someone before, to the point where I felt like I’d known her my entire life. The fact she is no longer with us, completely breaks my heart.

Because Jane is so important to our story, I absolutely have to dedicate a chapter to her. After being such an influence on me over the years, there was no way I could continue writing this blog without mentioning the impact that she had.

I remember the first time I met Jane. I walked through the door at my in-laws house and she looked me up and down and said ‘well a baby would fall out of you’ – it quickly made sense when they told me she was a midwife and to be honest, it absolutely wasn’t the first time someone had said something similar due to my rather wide hips.

I knew from that moment, we’d get along just fine.

One of the best things about Jane was that her personality echoed around a room. She didn’t live locally to us, so I’d just look forward to the times when I knew she’d be visiting, as I knew those times would be ridiculously enjoyable. She was larger than life and her laugh was exactly the same. Whenever you were with her, there was never a dull moment. You’d spend hours and hours listening to story after story about things that had happened in her life and you were never bored. I used to sit there in complete awe of how full of life she was, genuinely perplexed that I’d never actually met anyone who could talk faster than me before. She was utterly mesmerising.

Jane was a proud scouser who loved a designer handbag and a weekend at the spa. We would spend ages admiring the Lulu Guinness bags she’d purchased and I’d be jealous that she had better taste than I did. I’m pretty sure she thought I was a little batshit crazy, because quite early on in our relationship, we were at a wedding and she witnessed me tucking my dress into my knickers ready to attempt the dirty dancing move with James… in front of everyone. I always say you can take me or leave me, and thankfully she seemed onboard with the madness.

She absolutely adored Stanley, to the point where she’d send him a Christmas card every single year and a few gifts would arrive in the post every now and again. She called him ‘her boy’ and he adored her too. She stayed with us once and he couldn’t wait to run into the spare bedroom in the morning and jump on her. She’d be smothered in kisses before she even had the chance to roll over in bed.

Jane spent her whole life in a caring profession and found her niche as a midwife. I always used to ask her how many newborns she’d delivered but she’d lost count. She knew absolutely anything you needed to know about babies or the inner workings of the female body so it was ridiculously easy to speak to her when I found out I was pregnant and started experiencing everything that I did. I was never shy around her, she always made it far too easy to be as open as you wanted to be, with absolutely no judgement.

I think if you’re reading this now, you know the story of us losing our baby so I’m not going to dwell on it in this post. But Jane played such a huge part in stabilising me when we lost our daughter. She managed the balance of care and compassion with the straight talking no bullshit approach which was everything that I needed to get through it all. She was always down the end of the phone, no matter what time, whenever I needed peeling off the ceiling. She was only ever a text away when I was worried about something and needed to put my mind at ease.

I cannot put into words how much I thought of this woman and how amazing she was. It devastates me that if we eventually have our family, she won’t be in the photographs. Our children will miss out on meeting this absolutely lovely person who would have been such a role model in their lives.

It’s a reoccurring thought in my mind that life is unfair. After so much sadness, I didn’t expect anything else to happen again so soon. We were pretty much just waiting for Jane to retire, hoping she might move closer to us and become an even bigger part of our lives than she already was.

However on the 29th March 2020, she passed away.

After everything, I never thought I’d sit here and say that we are living through a global pandemic that has locked the country down three times. But not only that, we are included in the unfortunate group of people who have lost much loved family members to the virus. Jane and Geoff are two very important people who won’t be joining us when we finally come out of the other side.

You read things about cherishing your loved ones whilst they are around, making the most of every single moment you’re alive and never putting off something – because you literally have no idea what tomorrow will bring.

I very much embrace every single moment now.

Katt x

2 thoughts on “Auntie Jane.”

  1. Oh Katt what a beautiful piece of writing about my lovely Goddaughter Jane. I could picture your first meeting with her 😂😂.
    Did she render you speechless?🥰
    My kids thought the world of her too. Iain was waiting for her to move up north so he could go for pint with her. Lovely memories of my cousin. Thank you. Xxx


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