Willoughby - When Love Is Not Enough

Disclaimer

Names of certain people have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent. Incidents and time lines have been recorded solely from memory and may not coincide with official files or the recollections of others. In no way does the writer wish to represent the thoughts or feelings of any of the characters and are merely opinions of the author. This book is not meant to be used, nor should it be used, to diagnose or treat any medical condition. For diagnosis or treatment of any medical problem, consult your own physician. The publisher and author are not responsible for any specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision and are not liable for any damages or negative consequences from any treatment, action, application or preparation, to any person reading or following the information in this book. Personal opinions and writings of the author are not meant to defame, purge, humiliate, and or injure anyone and or should they decide to act upon or reuse any information provided in this book.

Introduction.

I write this story for our daughter Maryann, who filled our lives and hearts with love, and held within herself a secret that she didnt even realise she had. As a child, I played with my dolls and teddy bears imagining myself as their mother, but little did I know, that when I was grown, having a family of my own was not going to be easy, and with motherhood would come such heartbreak and emotional turmoil that I never could have imagined.

Acknowledgements

Much love and appreciation goes to my wonderful mother, whose love and support I could not have gone without through very difficult years.
With thanks to Evelyn Julia Kent, her advice and help with writing this book was invaluable.

Chapter 1
Empty arms.

I was twenty six years old when my friend introduced me to John, her boyfriends brother in the local pub. I thought how attractive he looked, standing by the bar with a glass of tequila in his hand. He wore blue jeans and an open neck shirt, his clear blue smiling eyes beckoned me to gaze into them. He offered to buy me a drink.
I must admit I was cautious of getting to know a handsome man with a well-paid job on the oil rigs, I remember thinking to myself that he probably went out with hundreds of girls and most likely wasn't the kind of guy who had a history of steady relationships. However, the drink I accepted sparked the start of a long and happy relationship to come and as the weeks passed I was pleased to be wrong about him and found him to be shy and very sweet indeed. When John was due home from the oil rigs after his three week shift, my heart would pound every time the phone rang, hoping it was him calling to arrange to meet. I felt like a teenager all over again, my tummy fluttered with butterflies when I heard his voice and couldnt wait to enjoy his leave with him, then each time he returned to work after three weeks I cried, longing for the time to pass. I worked in a shoe shop just yards from where he lived in the city centre. As the relationship blossomed, I would run as fast as I could through the cobbled streets to his flat to spend my lunch hours with him. My boss would shake his head disapprovingly as I raced back in to the shop five minutes late! Each hour seemed to fly by and as the weeks passed with each lunch hour and our evenings out together, it was becoming clear to both of us that we were falling in love. We went on trips to castles and museums, trips to the lakes and even just driving through miles of open countryside enjoying every moment of being together and found that we had much in common; our love of history and even the odd game of Scrabble in the evenings with a bottle of wine. We enjoyed being together so much, feelings between us began to grow stronger and both of us wished the time would fly faster each time he went back to work so we could be together again. I lived with my two dogs, Max, a three year old German shepherd, and Sweep, a little black and white shaggy terrier fur ball who was as cute as a button. Months later, John and I decided it would be a good idea to introduce each other to our families. First I introduced him to my mother and her husband. John was confident and relaxed when they met and we all had a wonderful evening. However, when it was time to meet Johns mother and her husband, I felt nervous. He had told me that his mother had been a teacher and could be quite opinionated, I somehow thought that she would analyse my every move and wonder if I was a suitable match for her son.

We travelled down to Cornwall to their home. Johns mother was cheerful and welcoming and put me at ease almost immediately. Her husband was quite the comic and amused us in the evenings with his funny stories. Johns mother was a wonderful cook, so each morning we were welcomed to breakfast with fresh farm eggs and tasty locally made sausages. In the evenings we dined on food of all kinds. It was a new experience for me as I had never tried such adventurous cooking. Johns mother was happy to share some recipes with me so I could try them for myself when we returned home. She wasnt at all the matronly strict school teacher I had imagined her to be. They took us to lots of sites, towns and events that Cornwall had to offer. John held my hand as we explored the many wonderful places and enjoyed the scenery. His mother took a photograph of us standing at the edge of Devils cove, a tiny bay on the coast. He wrapped his arms around me as the Cornish breeze blew through our hair and the sun kissed our faces. I remember thinking how happy I was. Even now, I look back at that week as one of my fondest of memories. When it was time to leave, I was sure I had found a new friend in Johns mother.

My knees went to jelly when John asked me to marry him a few months later; his blue eyes looked up at me as he knelt on one knee, waiting for my answer, hoping I wouldnt say no. Of course I played the Have to think about it routine, but I had no intention of refusing him! I was very much in love and spending the rest of my life with him was a wonderful thought. My two dogs, Max and Sweep loved John right from the start. They were always so excited to see him when he came to visit, nearly as much as I was!

Miscarriages, stillbirths and eventually eptopic pregnancies had left me unable to conceive naturally, so I knew that getting married was the easy part. If we chose to have a family, then we would have problems as I was unable to become pregnant without medical help. John knew of my turbulent history of trying to have children in my previous marriage but he accepted it and told me that he was marrying me because he loved me and not because he wanted children.

Wedding plans filled our lives for the next few months. We chose a tiny church in a pretty village on the outskirts of the city; we thought that getting married in a small church wouldnt make the congregation look as few as there were only thirty guests invited. The day arrived a year later.
John looked so handsome in his silvery grey suit, crisp white shirt and pink carnation buttonhole. Mum had helped me choose and bought my wedding dress; layers of white chiffon and lace, and my friend, my matron of honour, wore a satin dress of cerise pink. As my dress swept gently across the church floor, I held in one hand a large bouquet of cerise pink roses and the other I placed in my step grandfathers arm as he walked beside me down the aisle.

Photographs were taken in the grounds of a restaurant next to a gentle weir, with weeping willows and a rippling river. The setting could not have been lovelier as the sunlight danced on the water and a soft breeze ruffled my veil. I felt like I was the luckiest girl in the whole wide world and I was sure that John and I were going to be happy forever. As we all stood in a family group beneath the willow trees, John turned and kissed me. My heart skipped a beat as pure joy filled my heart and very soul, I couldn't have been happier.