I have blue streaks in my hair, I did it for Logan, which might sound weird,but makes sense to me. I haven’t brushed my hair in ages and was starting to look like Madusa, I tried washing it on Sunday but turns out I am still way too uncomfortable and sore and my hair takes way too long.
So today my mom kinda forced me to get my hair done (she hoped if I looked a bit better I might feel a bit better-you never know hey) I finally agreed to take care of my appearance after she asked me if I thought Logan would be happy to see his mom in this state. I reckoned he wouldn’t be happy and the least I could do was wash my hair.
When I got to salon I noticed they had colour extensions and I figured if I’m doing this for Logan I might as well get a bright blue hair piece because although we didn’t have many things for him, what we do have is blue.
Even though leaving the house makes me nervous and seeing lots of people makes me uncomfortable.
I ended up glad I went though, because some of the women there shared their stories with me (I live in a very small town and many people know about Logan) and it’s amazing how many people have had such hardship in their lives and have come out stronger. That is truly what helps me these days, modern “fairy tales” you know, stories with happy endings.

Anyway I have blue hair, in honour of my pretty boy, don’t think I ever said just how pretty my boy is, he looked rather dark at birth, dark enough for a NICU nurse to comment that with Rob and I both being so pale, you wouldn’t necessarily place him with us, his colour came back to him though and turns out he is really pink and pale, with dark black hair and dark eyebrows-like the baby boy version of snow white-with rosebud lips and the tiniest little sharp nose. At only 26 weeks he was already 32cm tall (a big boy)

My pretty little boy isn’t here anymore but he will always be my pride and joy and even though he is not here to take care of I can look after his parents for now.