Memories of Summer

This summer was supposed to be the best ever.

It’s my favourite season. I had such high hopes, high expectations.

Winter is my least-favourite season. Last winter, I had sat on my sofa hugging my ever-growing baby bump. My baby was due to be born in early June, right at the beginning of summer.

I thought how lucky I was. To be expecting a baby at all. To be expecting a baby that was due during my favourite season. Looking forward to enjoying my new baby during my favourite season.

I was so looking forward to everything motherhood would bring. Yes, even the sleepless nights, night feeds and stinky nappies. This baby was two years and a round of fertility treatment in the making.

My plans for the summer involved taking my new baby out for walks in his pram to show him off to everyone. We would go to story time at a local park on Monday mornings, followed by a buggy fit class. I would make friends with the other mums, and our babies would play together when they were bigger.



Nothing went the way it was planned. It all went wrong at the end of winter. A life-threatening pregnancy condition. A hospital stay – poked, prodded and medicated. My baby delivered far too early.

My precious boy, Hugo, fought so hard.

As spring was bringing forth new life, my son lost his.



Summer has been bittersweet this year.

My grief concerns not only what I have lost, but what I had to look forward to, too.

Walks in the sunshine, but without my baby.

My favourite season has lost its lustre this year.

Me and Hugo

Me and Hugo

My memories of this summer will include intense sadness. Thoughts of what should have been.

If I dig deep, I can take a small comfort from the fact I have shown off my beautiful baby. It was just in a way I never expected – through my blog, and on social media. Hugo is helping so many people through my words.

I have made new friends because of Hugo. Not the friends I expected to make, nor in the way I expected to make them. But I value them all – old friends, and new.

My love for Hugo grows ever deeper, though he is in my heart rather than also in my arms.

This refrain from Don Henley’s Boys of Summer has been circulating in my head this week. It sums it up:

And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong

After the boys of summer have gone.

My beautiful boy

My beautiful boy


18 thoughts on “Memories of Summer

  1. Sara (@mumturnedmom) says:

    Such a moving and important post. When my father died, my grief and sadness were for all that he would miss, more than the things I missed. Your strength in finding the small comforts is amazing. I am so touched, and honoured, that you have chosen to share this post (and others) with #ThePrompt, your words are always inspirational and humbling. Thank you for linking x


    • Leigh Kendall says:

      Thank you, Sara. I really like The Prompt, and am glad I found it. I enjoy writing for its own sake, and relish the challenge of writing something in a way I might not have thought of before xxx


  2. Tim says:

    Words to live by, Leigh. (And it’s a great song too.) I cannot adequately express how much admiration I have for you for continuing to hold your head up and carry your love for Hugo like a shining beacon. It reminds me constantly that the quibbles I have with my kids are just that – trivial little nothings.


  3. Menai says:

    Stunningly beautiful writing. I am so sorry that Hugo didn’t get to enjoy summer with you. He was loved and will be remembered – you’re acting in his name so strongly and bravely x


  4. Tara says:

    So sorry for your loss, Leigh. Your Hugo was a beautiful boy and you are honouring his memory by writing about him and, I’ve no doubt, helping others in the process.


  5. meghanoc says:

    This post makes me ache, all the sadness I feel for you (and for myself too)- grieving the dreams lost. There’s so much sadness on mourning the things that will never be.


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