This is Bristol --WHEN Michael Adams' wife died of breast cancer he was determined to celebrate the positives rather than wallowing in grief – so he started writing a blog.
Helen died in March after being diagnosed with breast cancer while pregnant with the couple's second child, Marley, and started treatment before their son was even born.
After her death the father-of-two turned to groups for young widows and widowers for support.
But the 35-year-old felt there was too much negativity on the online forums and wanted to take a more positive approach, so started writing his own honest account of his experiences.
Helen was just 34 when she passed away, leaving Michael to care for three-year-old Marley and Olivia, who turned five last month.
The couple married almost two years before the diagnosis and were looking forward to their future.
"We had a baby daughter and were just looking forward to the future like every other family waiting for the birth of a child," Michael said. "Then things changed dramatically with that diagnosis."
Initially the fear was that Helen would have to terminate her pregnancy but eventually doctors agreed she could continue carrying her son.
Treatment started while Helen was still pregnant. First there was a full mastectomy followed by chemotherapy, which also started before Marley's birth. Labour was then induced three weeks before Marley had been due and he was born in December 2009. After more chemotherapy, herceptin and radiotherapy followed.
"2010 was all about treatment," Michael said. "2011 was all about us building our lives again.
"We felt really lucky because we thought we had got chemo done, got surgery done. There had never been any talk of the cancer being terminal and we were all very positive."
Michael, who works as an IT manager in Emersons Green, said that it had been a difficult time and he had taken charge of looking after Olivia, who was then a toddler and baby Marley.
Things had been going pretty well until late in 2011 when Helen suffered a recurrence of the cancer, which was dealt with by surgery. But several months later Helen started suffering migraines, followed by the discovery of a lump on her sternum and scans showed that the cancer had spread to her brain, liver and lungs.
"We were both very positive and optimistic," Michael said.
"Helen was a tower of strength through it all. She was a nurse and had cared for cancer patients before, and knew what was going on deep down but always had that hope for another day.
"In spite of what she had been through, Helen was very happy and jokey and the kids were happy and jokey."
Michael said he has been determined to remain as positive as he can to help his children adapt.
"We were married for just over six years, which isn't very long but even if we had 50 years, it would not have been long enough," Michael said.
"I could be quite down in the dumps about what happened but my kids deserve better than that. They deserve a happy life. That is the way I have lived on.
"I found a lot of people very negative on websites, with some saying they weren't sure what life is about, and I know that people deal with things differently but I am very optimistic.
"I accept what has happened and that I am not going to get my head around it and accept that is the way it is.
"It has been a massive loss but I may as well enjoy what I have got. I have got my health and what I have seen over the last two to three years is someone who didn't have their health.
"My wife wouldn't want me to be sad and that is why I set up the blog."
Michael, who grew up in Fishponds and Yate, said that before he started writing his blog he had been writing things down to help make sense of what happened and since putting his posts online he has had a positive response.
"People have said it has really helped them get through a difficult time," he said.
The blog includes the approach Michael has taken to his grief and dealing with his daughter's first birthday since Helen's death.
Michael's blog can be found at www.clearlypositive.co.uk
SAMPLE: OUR DAUGHTER'S FIRST BIRTHDAY WITHOUT MUMMY
A BITTERSWEET day today as it was the first time my daughter celebrated her birthday without a mum. It was Princess Olivia's fifth birthday party and the first of the kids' birthday parties without Mummy. Even writing that makes it hit home even more.
My daughter had her fifth birthday party and Mummy was nowhere to be seen.
I stood and looked around and she was not there with us. I could not hear her voice, her laugh. I could not see her smile or gorgeous face.
I could not even hear her bossing us all around in her attempt to make the day as perfect as possible like she would have done.
Even when I started organising it she was not there to talk to Olivia about what she would like to do, who she would like to invite. She was not there to help write the lists, buy the presents, the food or the decorations.
She was not there to prepare the food or decorate the room. She was not there to watch her children play, watch them laugh or watch them dance. She missed seeing our precious daughter's face as we all sang Happy Birthday and Olivia blew out the candles.
She has gone, gone forever. I know that if she could have been there today she would have been. It is cruel, that is what it is.
But we all had a great time. Olivia loved being the centre of attention with all her friends and family. Olivia, that innocent little girl who lost her mum nearly five months ago, was still very happy. It was perfect, everything went to plan and everyone had fun.
I know Helen would have been so proud and happy that we were all able to have these special times.
So even though my wife was not there I realise I am very lucky to be able to watch Olivia dancing and playing with all her friends so very happy, and watch Marley playing with his cousins while laughing hysterically.
I was lucky to have been able to organise this for our daughter and try to make it as special as possible.
The kids are lucky to have been able to have the party and lucky to have had this special time.
So a bittersweet time indeed but with just that little bit of extra sweetness.
I cannot let the sadness of the past destroy the happiness of the present and future.
We missed Mummy but we had a good time. Reported by This is 11 hours ago.