17.5 weeks and all is well

I can't say I got much sleep on Sunday night. I had weird nightmares galore... snakes, chinese babies with terminal cancer and, of course, the ubiquitous spiders all haunted my sleep.

By the time I got up I felt ill. Didn't want to eat. Scale was still down. eesh.

Luckily Best Mate was with me and somehow we got to the doctor's by which time I was a bit of a useless wreck with a heartbeat rivalling the baby's for speed!

Yes... the baby's. There is a heartbeat. Worst fear did not come true. Baby is alive and well and even waved at me:


She is now about 13cm long and everything is looking just as it should.

Big relief to say the least. I don't know how I manage to work myself up so much every time. I have now stopped enquiring about people's pregnancies, I avoid reading pregnancy websites and I stay far away from pregnancy mags because reading "I felt the first wonderful flutters at 13 weeks" when I'm close on 18 with no flutters at all does not help me. Fear is a nasty thing to have following you around!

Truth be told I am having the "dream pregnancy" in terms of the physical side. No nausea, no headaches, no sore boobs, no heartburn, barely showing. All the things that most preggers women would envy. But emotionally? Emotionally this is the most exhausting thing I've ever been thru... and I'm only half way!

the writer in me is wilting

in this INFERNAL heat. Seriously!! the mercury hit the 40s last weekend and is threatening to do the same this weekend. BRING ON WINTER.

The heat is my excuse for such uninspirational posts of late. I totally get why mediterranean countries go for the siesta vibe. I am pretty much useless come afternoon. The heat is just too much.

Last week I checked my weight and I'd gained 2kg from start of preg, but today the scale was down one and a half. Yes, I do realise the irony of me complaining about weight loss when just 4 months ago it was goal number 1 (BTW I did manage to lose all the pregnancy weight - 9 or 10kg - before this pregnancy). But in pregnancy weight loss is not good. I promptly SMSd The Band for perspective and the reality is that this bump is blossoming. Perhaps just our cheapass scale and the fact that The Guv is weirdly obsessed with it for some reason. Anyway, to be safe I had a MASSIVE breakfast and a largish lunch.
Suck on that, Scale!

Anyway, the next scan is on Monday so while the rest of Cape Town soaks up the sun and dreams of ways to lengthen the weekend I will be praying for winter and wishing away the days! Wish The Band was going to be there. Scans terrify me - at least until I see the heartbeat - and then they are awesome.

You'll be glad to know I have started (a little rudely even perhaps) to ask people at the start of their pregnancy stories whether it was a bad story and if so I certainly don't need to hear it. (Hell, much of the time I don't even necessarily want to hear the normal stories about babies - it still just hurts so much).

I have to constantly take my thoughts captive and give myself almost "out loud" stern talkings to so as not to lose my mind. My tendency when something really worries me but is more or less out of my hands is to shut it out and not think about it, but in this case, the "it" is no it at all, but a little princess who needs her mommy to suck it up, conquer her fears and pour love on her.

All prayers much appreciated!

Tonight

So!

Tonight I will be meeting some fellow bloggers.

I've never met any of my blog buddies actually - except Tamara very briefly at a work type thing.
So it seems that Being Brazen has organised this get together in Long Street tonight (at Neighbourhood at 18:30 if any CT bloggers read this).

I am actually a little nervous. It's one thing having virtual friendships... it's a whole nother ball game meeting face to face but someone challenged me on this the other day in fact and so yes, I will take the proverbial* bull by the horns and off I go to Cape Town.

*I'd never be so mean to a bull - I'm a bunny hugger at heart after all!

Where we're @

A random, not particularly elegant update.

• I have a bit of a bump starting to happen and I am sure that I am getting a few curious looks from colleagues - many of whom don't know that I'm pregnant coz I don't have the ----- (fill in every blank you can think of: energy, will, strength, bother, etc) to tell them.
• I have gained 2 kgs
• I am now 16.5weeks pregnant
• I still haven't felt movement. I try. I lie on my side. I plead with her. But still nada. (It's just the placenta in the way, it's just the placenta in the way - I tell myself constantly)
• Next appointment is in a week - next monday
• The Band left today for a week in Madagascar. He gets back next Tuesday. I have been dreading his trip forever. Best Mate nikki is moving in in the mean time and will come with me to my appointment next week.
• Some people have recurring nightmares of writing their matric exams, or appearing starkers in a public place. Not me. My recurring nightmare is that I wake up bleeding. It is awful. The start of the end of life as I know it relived again and again.
• I seem to have a lot of people telling me terrible stories. Not quite sure how to get around it. By the time I could say something it's already been said... stories of repeated abruptions. Stories of baby tragedies. How about just letting me try claw my way into a bit of positivity?
• eeeeeeeesh.

In loving memory of Phoebe

Yesterday the best dog this world has seen was put down. I am heart broken.

We got Phoebs when I was in high school. Every Sunday I took her to puppy training - she loved it. Pretty soon she became my dad's running partner. She'd stop to pee randomly (ussually, conveniently, on an uphill!) and they'd both enjoy the excuse for a quick break.

Phoebe was super intelligent. Her favourite place in the world was the beach. We couldn't say the word "beach" in the house unless we were about to take her, because she'd get completely excited and then you'd HAVE to take her. Once on the beach Phoebe would steal everyone's hearts. She would fetch a stick or a ball, but her favourite was a waterpolo ball which we'd kick for her. She would "herd" it back. Once I, or whoever had taken her, got a bit tired of this game and sat for a bit of a break, she'd simply deliver her ball to the next person who walked by and look on expectantly until they figured out the game.

She loved to swim and even on a miserable day if we went for a walk along the river she'd innocently drop her ball in the water and have a quick dip. If we threw her ball in the pool at home and it was out of reach of the sides, in she'd jump and herd it to the shallow end.

She usually lay with her front paws crossed.

Phoebe was very very patient with children and put up with quite a lot! At some point she managed to switch a game of fetch with my neice so that she was 'throwing' the ball and my neice was bringing it back to her.

Phoebe loved all of us - my parents, me, my brothers, everyone who met her fell in love right back, but without a doubt the person she adored more than anyone else in the world was my gran, Noon... and the feeling was completely mutual. They couldn't get enough of each other and each time my gran came to the house Phoebe would go beserk. They would play together for ages as my gran doted on her shamelessly "what a clever girl you are - black eyelashes on your black patch eye and white eyelashes on your white side"... and frequent exclamations of "oh I do love that dog!"

We regularly go to a house in Kei Mouth for holidays. The house has a deck with steps down onto the beach. I think for Phoebe this place was heaven on earth - most of the people she loved in one place and the beach RIGHT THERE. I think that she's somewhere like this now... back with Noon at last, waiting for us to arrive and throw the ball. I miss you girl.

Stuck in the middle

I am now 5 months away from holding a daughter. It is 5 months since I held Sophia and it will be 5 months til I hold The Kernel. I have not yet felt movement - apparently the placenta is upfront so that may mean it takes longer to detect - and I have to say that I feel quite lonely and apart from them both.

Who killed binks?

When I was about 14 or 15 I got a hand reared cockatiel. Once it was born I visited him every other day and fed him so that in a few weeks he'd know me when I took him home. Finally the day came for me to take him home. I adored this bird (Binky) and he'd be on my shoulder from the moment I got home from school. His cage was in my room and even while I read in bed at night he would be wondering about exploring, only put back in his cage when I went to sleep.

The lady who reared him was a bit loopy. Passionate about her birds. She gave me all the instructions before I finally took him: get a heater in your room - young birds are sensitive to the weather. We thought she was a bit over the top - we lived in East London - very very moderate weather.

Anyway a few weeks went by and one night I was sitting talking on the phone (for ages - as girls of 14 or 15 are wont to do!). Binks was on my lap and I was eating a bowl of ice cream. I remember noting that Binks looked tired. He seemed to want to roost so I went and placed him in his cage and carried on with the call. When I checked on him afterwards he was slumped at the bottom of the cage not looking too healthy. I alerted my mom and we tried to perk him up. We tried to warm him but he seemed to just be getting worse.

We called the vet and the were told to bring him in (even though by now it was about 8 or 9pm). But by then he died.

I was devastated. I realised in that moment that even though I had loved that bird, I had killed him simply because I was too "me". My hands, cold from the ice cream bowl had cooled him too much and too quickly. I had taken too long to realise that something was seriously wrong. I killed him.

That sickening feeling. That feeling of guilt, confusion, incomprehension, despair came back to me that morning at the hospital. Somehow my body had resulted in Sophia's death. My one job was to be a safe place for her and I wasn't. At that stage, in the seconds after you've just been dealt the most life shattering blow, the doctor was trying to figure out what had happened (placental abruption could only really be confirmed after birth). She asked if I'd been sick recently (yes), when had I last felt movement (big eyes.. I'm not entirely sure.. the movement had changed. It was different. But that's what the books predicted. They told me not to worry. I'm sorry).

For days afterwards I sat believing it was my fault. It was because I'd had the flu and it was because I had taken so long to admit that something was not right. In the follow up appointment a few days later I asked all my questions. No - it had nothing to do with the flu. No - earlier detection would not have helped a complete abruption. But absolution has not come.

"Stop stressing - it's bad for the baby!"

Stop stressing? You might as well suggest that I don't breath for the next 5 months.

"Trust God, everything's gonna be ok"
Well, that's an assumption. What's your definition of ok? God won't give me more than I can handle, but I can handle a WHOLE LOT MORE than I want to have to.

Found this and love it:
"Some people feel guilty about their anxieties and regard them as a defect of faith but they are afflictions, not sins. Like all afflictions, they are, if we can so take them, our share in the passion of Christ" C.S. Lewis

5 months

It is cloudy and overcast today. Cooler than it's been in some time. I am glad.

My concept of time has changed since Sophia's death. I now view my life as "before her death" and "after her death". It has become a watershed. Almost like two "mes" - caz-before and caz-since. I can't believe caz-since has been around for 5 months already and I can't believe that caz-since was ever not here. When your perpectives fundamentally shift it becomes difficult to remember that they were ever another way to begin with.

The passing of time depresses me... I am further from the time I carried her. I no longer wake up shocked at her absence. Only occasionally do I sit, incredulous, startled that this could happen to us. For the most part it is now our all too familiar reality.

The passing of time is hopeful... while I am further from her physically, in this life, I am closer to her eternally. I don't think of my own death as a depressing thing anymore, nor should I. I have so much to look forward to in the next life.

I have much to look forward to in this life too. My jeans are a little tighter today - perhaps the first real "symptom" of pregnancy.

Both my girls have their own book of letters from us - filled with scan pics and love from their parents. I will write to both of them today, my baby girl in heaven and my baby girl in my belly.

It's a....

As always with a scan I was Stressed Eric until I saw the baby moving and boy was baby moving! So spasmodic - obviously inherited my lack of grace at this stage! :)


The scan was incredible. The technology is really amazing and the specialist was so reassuring all the way through that I now feel more confident than I have in a long time about this pregnancy.

Well.... we know the gender.... it is not what we expected!!

It's a girl!

We were pretty shocked to say the least. I have to say that it was hard to hear - another daughter. I teared up immediately. Everyone I know who has had a stillborn has lost a daughter. I asked the specialist about that and she assured me that that is coincidence. Girls are no more vulnerable than boys and in fact if the baby is coming early, a girl will be better off in terms of lung development.

The Band and I went to Cavendish after the appointment and shopped up a storm. We bought all kinds of adorable pink outfits. It was so good for us - we never found out Sophia's gender and so we never had this experience last time. By the end of the shopping I felt peace, and in fact, gratitude.

My heart's desire is to raise a daughter. If I had a boy now I know that I'd adore him, but I'd always be waiting for the chance to raise a girl - I had even decided that if I only had sons I'd adopt a little girl. And so perhaps there is some healing in this - tough though it is, conflicted though I am. I have to take my thoughts captive and not allow myself to feel somehow disloyal to Sophia - Sophia is in heaven and I very much doubt she knows envy. I think she is probably excited about her little sister on the way and perhaps she is happy for us.

I am glad we found out. We are such traditionalists and if we hadnt lost Sophia so tragically we would have always found out on the day with the ecstatic doctor announcing "it's a...". I had so so often dreamt of that moment with Sophia and I mourn the fact that I will never have that. I am labelled a high risk pregnancy and as such, naivete is out the window. But this, finding out there is a little fairy princess growing inside me, has been good. It is wonderful to say "she" instead of "it" or just "the baby". I feel I want to be gentler because of her presence, and The Band seems to be feeling the same way.

He always asks how "his girls" are doing.

It is such a precious time and yet still, always, I long for Sophia with my whole being and I fear for this little one. I am terrified of losing her too. All I can do is pray - millions of times in a day - for God to protect her and make my womb a safe haven for her.

Defending the pee stick

Yesterday I came across two blogs of ladies who had stillborn babies and have just recently miscarried in their subsequent pregnancies. As I type this, these two ladies (and who knows how many others) are living out one of my greatest fears. My heart goes out to them and I grieve for them.

One of them said something interesting on her blog:
"BLM's would you agree with me when I say that through gritted teeth you can send love and best wishes to fellow BLM's announcing their rainbow baby pregnancies, but that an 'obligatory' pee stick photo is like a kick in the stomach?"

BLM = babylost moms for those of you fortunate enough to be unfamiliar with this macabre terminology that seems to invade your life once you're in that very unfortunate club.

I think that perhaps this lady has a point, but for my part as one who has lost a child and has recently posted my own pee stick pic, I'd like to put my thoughts on the matter out there.

There are a few things here.
First of all, I started this blog 4 years ago for the pure and simple joy of writing. Life was simple and the blog was a place to express myself in my own quirky, uninhibited way. I think my writing was fun and entertaining back then. Lighthearted. Funny. Hell, it was downright Marian Keyes-ish (minus the Irish family, the friend named Clodagh, the career in publishing, the tragic break-up, the weight loss that happens without our hero even realising it - come on!! - and the inevitable perfect man who was, in fact, right under our hero's nose all along).

When "everything happened" I had an overwhelming compulsion to write. Writing is not only a joy for me, but a therapy. I am far, far more likely to pour out feelings in writing then to speak them out loud - even to The Band or The Best Friend. And so, this is my place. If others find it and are comforted or entertained or whatever as a result, that is wonderful, but I'd be lying if i said that was the reason for this blog.

I also had an overwhelming compulsion to read. I devoured the blogs of people who've lost a child and found hope in the stories of those who went on to eventually fall pregnant again and have healthy children. On many days these stories kept me going.

I don't remember if I posted the pregnancy test pic with Sophia, I don't think I did. But with The Kernel, pure joy is not something I feel. It is not something I have felt in nearly 5 months and perhaps it is not something I will feel again in this lifetime. With Sophia, life remained simple, it was easy to assume that come September we'd have a beautiful baby in our arms (the assumption was true, but the reality was coupled with tragedy and was all too fleeting). With The Kernel I have no such surety. I have no such naivete. I have no such carefree hope. Approximately a million times a day I pray for this baby to be protected, kept safe. Celebrating this baby, when I am terrified of losing him/her, when my heart remains broken for Sophia, is not a simple matter. It is something I consciously choose to do, it is something I will myself to do. Everything in me wants to guard my heart, to not get attached until The Kernel is safely born. But that's not fair on The Kernel, is it?

And so I will post pee stick pics. I will post cheesy belly photos and scan pics. I will make every effort to celebrate this pregnancy, despite my fear, despite my human defence mechanisms cautioning against it. I need people around me to have hope when I'm too scared to, to celebrate The Kernel when I am too sad to. The Kernel deserves as much.

Pink or blue?

With a bit of luck we'll find out tomorrow circa 4pm.

Annoying ex-pats!

I can’t stand ex-pats who leave the country and then consistently moan about SA. Who are they trying to convince????

Case in point is my cousin who has emigrated to New Zealand. Her Facebook status is always some little chirp about how superior her new country is. The latest is this:
“To all Saffas needing to renew your driver's license shame!!!! here in NZ Zip Zap 1/2 hr and finished & Klaar!!!!”

Seriously.
Needless to say, I commented “Only took me 20mins to renew mine”
Hee hee hee

Thanks to Tamara for this link (love it!)

Where to start on this one??

There is so much to communicate in this post. I've anticipated writing this for so long and yet, here I sit, struggling for words.

First off, I guess, for any reader who has lost a baby... I hope that this post doesn't cause you any pain. I hope it brings you hope.
For any reader struggling with infertility, my heart breaks with you, I hope that those around you continue to pray for your miracle when you no longer can.
And to those who've read this blog since back when life was normal and my biggest concern was the endless goading of those infernal rain spiders: thanks for sticking with me :)

Today is a happy day... mostly. There are a bunch of other emotions floating around there too, of course, but high on the list is happiness.

Here's why...

This is a test taken in early December and today, somehow, marks that first major milestone of 12 weeks.
I know I know I know. How could I possibly not have told you about this? I have felt very guilty if it's any consolation!! The Band and I really wanted to keep this on the down low at least until we made it to the 12 week scan. We knew for more than 3 weeks before we even told our parents! (told them at Christmas) so I hope you don't feel too betrayed.

I am very grateful now, that we made that choice. Against all odds the first trimester sped by and I think it's because noone knew and so it was barely spoken of. Once you are showing, people ask you how far you are basically daily so you are constantly aware of time, this way we could almost not think about it and while that may sound awful, it's been a blessing. I am terrified. I have been anticipating this week's scan for so long now that I had completely freaked myself out by the time I got to the doctor. I have had barely any "symptoms", you see - immune system was low and blood pressure was low but that has really been it - and in some ways I was beginning to think the whole thing was in my head. To finally see a little person on the screen almost surprised me. Then I freaked out because it seemed so still, but wonderful New Gynae pointed to the heart galloping along and I could finally breathe again.

Here's what I saw:

Introducing The Kernel

So far everything is fine... on monday baby was just over 4cm from head to bum and now the real growth begins.

At this stage we have named him/her The Kernel. This was because baby was heading for the size of a popcorn kernel when we found out, but with time we are hoping baby will graduate to The Colonel and take on The Guv!! (surely a Colonel outranks a Governer??)

So where are we at? I am an emotional basket case mostly. My first emotion when I found out was a massive sense of gratitude. Too many people struggle to fall pregnant and I've read of their pain and feared it. A pregnancy is not something I could ever take for granted. It is not a given, it is an absolute blessing and privilege and not one we take lightly. Pretty soon after we found out we had our first appointment and there was some "free fluid" hanging around. We were told it could mean nothing or it could indicate an ectopic pregnancy. Three endless days of waiting for blood test results. I was already in love with this little one and going through that so early on sucked a lot of the joy out and replaced it with cold dark fear. Finally we heard back that everything was fine, but in a way we felt a bit scarred by that. After that I was scared - any little ache or pain would worry me and I was constantly bracing myself for blood. I think in my mind I set the next scan as a deadline to myself... if everything was fine there then it would be time to suck it up - all the fears and worries (haha.. ok, perhaps that's a bit ambitious) but to make a conscious decision to celebrate this pregnancy and believe that perhaps there might just be a living, breathing baby at the end of it.

The reality is that I am deemed "high risk" now. Placental abruption has a 15% recurrence rate - unless it was caused by a fall, which it may have been, but I will never know. And so there'll be a few precautions - for one I had to take additional folic acid (on top of the preg vits) for the first 12 weeks, from now on I have to have 1/4 aspirin a day... something to do with promoting placental growth. I will have more frequent scans and I will be induced a month early (somewhere around the 9th of July!!). But there are no guarantees, and this is the part that makes my heart pound and my breathing shallow.

Next Thursday we are off to the foetal assessment clinic and we will more than likely find out the gender. Any guesses? The Band and I think it's a boy.

We are starting to tell people now and I am nervous... worried about their reactions. This doesn't solve everything, this doesn't stop us mourning Sophia, everything's not magically fixed now, BUT this baby does bring his/her own joy. This baby does deserve to be celebrated and loved.

Keep me in your prayers guys... it's a terrifying road we're on but we're very grateful to be on it!

A poem for the grieving

I saw this beautiful poem on the blog of Molly Piper - daughter-in-law of John Piper. Molly's daughter, Felicity, was also born sleeping.

Resignation
from The Seaside and the Fireside
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(1807-1882)

There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside, howsoe’er defended,
But has one vacant chair!

The air is full of farewells to the dying,
And mournings for the dead;
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,
Will not be comforted!

Let us be patient! These severe afflictions
Not from the ground arise,
But oftentimes celestial benedictions
Assume this dark disguise.

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;
Amid these earthly damps
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers
May be heaven’s distant lamps.

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.

She is not dead,–the child of our affection,–
But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ himself doth rule.

In that great cloister’s stillness and seclusion,
By guardian angels led,
Safe from temptation, safe from sin’s pollution,
She lives, whom we call dead.

Day after day we think what she is doing
In those bright realms of air;
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,
Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken
The bond which nature gives,
Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken,
May reach her where she lives.

Not as a child shall we again behold her;
For when with raptures wild
In our embraces we again enfold her,
She will not be a child;

But a fair maiden, in her Father’s mansion,
Clothed with celestial grace;
And beautiful with all the soul’s expansion
Shall we behold her face.

And though at times impetuous with emotion
And anguish long suppressed,
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean,
That cannot be at rest,–

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling
We may not wholly stay;
By silence sanctifying, not concealing,
The grief that must have way.

Songs of heaven

There is so much music that makes me think of Sophia. I've always been partial to sad music, even in happy times. I've generally got the "depro playlist" going strong on any given day. Music is powerful. There's something in it that floors you, that breaks down your defences, that manages to get right in there, behind the wall, to the place you try to protect.

I've been reduced to tears, running on the treadmill at gym due to the words of songs (and that's songs from my "gym mix"!!) It's incredible how words seem to talk to my precise situation and yet are no doubt simulataneously speaking to so many others.

Just a few...

Carry you home - James Blunt
And they're all born pretty in New York City tonight.
And someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight.
Under the stars and stripes.
As strong as you were, tender you go.
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet I know what that means and I'll carry you home.

and even Who knew - Pink
If someone said 3 years from now
you'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
coz they're all wrong
That last kiss, I'll cherish
until we meet again
And time makes it harder
I wish I could remember
But I keep your memory
You visit me in my sleep
My darling, who knew?
My darling, I miss you, My darling, who knew?

Here without you - 3 doors down
A hundred days have made me older since the last time that i saw your pretty face

A thousand lights have made me colder and i dont think i can look at this the same.
All the miles that seperate disappear now when im dreaming of your face.
I'm here without you baby,
but you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby, and I dream about you all the time.
I'm here without you, baby, but you're still with me in my dreams
and tonight, it's only you and me

One of the most beautiful things I've heard recently is a recording of Emma's Daddy playing a song for his little girl. You can hear it here. Be prepared... it'll break your heart.

A review of the decade passed

2001: little fledgling caz left the nest and moved 1100km to the other side of the country to attend Stellenbosch University. I enrolled for a BSc I stayed in residence for the first two years. Quite stretching living with a bunch of girls after growing up with 3 older brothers and no sisters. Classes in afrikaans were also challenging. Homesick caz was encouraged at every turn by my gran who wrote to me just about every week from the time I left home. I have a massive pile of blue envelopes in the cupboard next to my bed today. Played waterpolo and attended the South African Universities tournament at the end of the year, representing the Maties team.


2002: the classes were now much smaller as we had moved from general BSc subjects to subjects specific to our focus. My particular focus was only started for the first time with our class – BSc Conservation Ecology. For the most part we were only about 20 students. Adventures included weekends in Kalahari National Park. I remember on the first day looking around and thinking “Seriously, these are the freaks I have to spend the next 3 years with??”* Great year which ended with a trip to the Okavango Delta where I worked on a crocodile research project. I was annoyed when I discovered that one of my freaky classmates would be there as well. We ended up having fun together though and hitchhiked all the way back to South Africa together.
*One of these freaks was to become my husband, many of the others my lifelong best mates.

2003: I moved into a townhouse with some friends and it was great! A tumultous start to the year though... were there feelings between me and aforementioned croc hunting classmate or not? A 5 day hike along the wild coast answered that question! so the great romance between The Band and I was begun. I worked at Waterford Wine Farm. Learnt plenty about the SA wine industry and loved the job. Many adventures through the year, but finally for the South African summer, The (at this stage “future”) Band, The Josh (classmate and future bestman and current work colleague etc) and I went to the US to work at a ski resort for 2 months. New York City was awesome... Lake Placid less so... It became known as “Lake Flaccid, the town that never rose to the occasion”

2004: Our final year together as a class. Good times, good adventures. Ran my first two half marathons. The (future) Band and I began to realise that we were both in this thing for keeps. More adventures – including a trip to Madagascar - and the year was rounded off with some camping and hiking in the Drakensburg and another hike along the Wild Coast.

2005: All my friends had moved on to travel or start working but I decided to continue my studies with a Bphil Journalism degree, also through Stellenbosch University. What an intense year. 20 students I’d never met before who I now spent pretty much all my waking hours with in this little converted house. Something like 36 subjects ranging from International Journalism to Radio Broadcasting to Media Management, ethics, etc etc. We had to do the news on the local radio station at least once a week as well. I went to Madagascar with the (future) Band on a church trip in the midst of all the work. In August The (future) Band proposed. No guesses as to my answer! Finished off the year (amidst wedding planning) with a one month internship at Getaway Magazine.

2006: February 11th was the big day. A gorgeous, perfect wedding surrounded by all those nearest and dearest to us. Life after honeymoon was to be an adventure... at that stage The Band was earning about R6K (gross) a month, I was to be studying my masters degree and our rent alone was R3500 a month. Ya... Luckily we got many woolies vouchers among our wedding gifts so the poorer we were, the more Woolworths food we ate (foreigners, Woolies in SA is like Marks&Spencers in the UK). I was soon offered a job and decided to work and study at the same time. The job for awful. For the first time in my life I was spending my days doing something I was completely disinterested in. Marriage, however, was great. We were living on a farm up in the mountains. When we drove home at night we’d shine a spotlight and see genets, owls, porcupines, baboons and buck. Gorgeous.

2007: Throughout the December holiday I had nightmares about going back to work. I was truly dreading it. That told me it was high time I started to look for something else. Through a series of coincidences and chance encounters I was given a job at WWF, the conservation organisation. Brilliant. I loved it. Back in the land of adventures! Trips to game reserves, to rhino releases, to bird trails and more and more and more. Finished my masters degree which looked at how the media report on climate change – what an incredible sense of achievement after slogging away for 2 years! Spent the summer holiday doing a lot of cycling including some unforgettable cycles at the Wild Coast with brother Mark, my dad and the Band (3 of my favourite men in the world).

2008: Another good year workwise. My graduation was held early in the year and my parents and very proud gran were there for it. Rode the Argus Cycle Tour and loved it. In August we were all set to travel to East London for my dad’s 60th when (a few days before) I was woken early by a phone call. It was my dad telling me my gran had died. I was devastated. All the “she had a good innings” comments do nothing to help. Yes, I am forever grateful that we had so long with her, but that doesn’t mean I miss her any less or that losing her is any easier. She was one in a million. Heart of gold. Wicked sense of humour. My strongest supporter. But if you’ve been a reader for a while you’ll know all this. Ended the year with an incredible adventure. My gran would so have loved to hear about it – she was an adventurer herself. We (The Band, The Josh and The Harry) spent a month travelling Southern Africa – Bazaruto and the rest of Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia, The Victoria Falls. Incredible. Unforgettable.

2009: Just a few weeks after returning to “real life”, life was to be turned upside down again... two solid lines on a pregnancy test. A year of preparing, preparing our hearts, our home, our budget, our lives. Debating names, building and painting cots and compactums, baby shower after baby shower. Antenatal classes, hospital tours, giddy conversations. Swollen ankles. Swollen everything! Anticipation building, hearts swelling, excitement bursting. FINALLY my last day of work. Severe back ache and days later, blood. The hospital. No heartbeat. The world crashed down. We sunk. I’m still sinking. Labour. Birth. Shock. And then... silence. Our baby girl. In our arms. And then it was all over. Month and months and months only to return to the same house. Packing up the nursery. Watching the flowers wilt and fade. Endless days. The weather warming. Summer creeping up on us, without her. Time passing takes us further from her, but perhaps closer too. Despair. And then the fledgling beginnings of hope.

In 2009 I have learnt

• There is much sadness in this life
• There is much joy in this life
• The things that once mattered much – like holding on to me and who I think i am – mean nothing
• The vast majority of people’s opinions mean nothing
• A shared experience bonds people instantly
• I still like sleeping with a fluffy animal
• Internet/virtual friendships are very real and can greatly impact your life
• Verbalising my feelings is near impossible
• Writing my feelings is therapeutic
• Grief can tear apart a marriage – not because of blame as I once thought but because people get lost in their own journey
• Grief can weld a marriage together – if both people are brave enough to trust each other with their hearts
• I don’t want to let go of my grief
• Grief is not linear. Each day is not a little easier. Grief grows and mutates and reveals new sharp edges – more aspects of loss to be mourned as time passes. It shocks you when you least expect it. It is ever-present. Sometimes revered and sometimes reviled. A constant companion.
• People want to “solve” my grief. They want to fix it. Sometimes grief just needs to be experienced.
• There is no right thing to say – there is only acknowledging that it happened and expressing your sadness
• We are near powerless
• Life is fleeting
• Joy can be found in the simplest of things: a massage, a kitten, sunbirds
• Pregnant women are everywhere
• Holding your own child for the first time is one of the most beautiful moments of your life.... even if that child has already left this world.
• There are incredible people in this world
• People surprise you – in the best and worst ways
• I am stronger than I ever imagined
• A sarky sense of humour is me. Despite what happens, it is there. Some might think that’s irreverant. They’ll get over it.
• A kitten can bring an inordinate amount of joy
• Empathy trumps sympathy a thousand times over.
• People and time invested in them is what matters in this life. You can’t take your job, your car, your achievements with you
• For the first time I am so excited for heaven
• My husband is the finest man I know
• My dad is right up there too (:
• God is a God of second chances.

When you are those "other people"

I guess I've been bracing myself for Christmas. Dreading it. Considering how it was meant to be in comparison to how it would now be. But the pain is never in the obvious things. It's not sitting around the christmas tree opening gifts knowing that your most precious gift is not with you. It's not sleeping in the same room you always do when you are home and not in the one with the cot that you had envisioned sleeping in. It's not waking up on christmas morning knowing that the little red "my first christmas" bib is still sitting in the cupboard in Somerset West never to be worn by Sophia. These expected hurts are dull, present, but not sharp.

The pain is in the unexpected. Wondering if Sophia's name would feature (along with the other family member's names) on my folks' christmas tree and finding that in fact a delicate glass orb with an angel inside has pride of place on the tree, with Sophia's name and birthday inscribed on it. The walls of my parents' house are laden with photos of my neice - their only (living) grandchild. In the garage yesterday I saw the car seat my mom had bought to keep for when we visited with Sophia this holiday. These seemingly benign things rip and claw at my heart.

My brothers (one of which was married last week, another of which is engaged) and their significant others excitedly discuss the prospects of children. With some puffed up bravado they talk of the responsibility to have a boy to carry on the family name. Still, despite what has happened, so oblivious to how fragile, how uncertain childbearing is. It's as if the attitude remains "it'll never happen to me", that sort of thing only happens to other people. That was once my unconscious belief as well. Sometimes, though, you are the "other people".

Lately my grief has morphed into something which I suspect is more similar to the grief that The Band has experienced. In moments all the other side issues and complications are stripped away and the naked longing to hold my daughter is all that is left. It is like a hunger of the soul. A hunger that will remain insatiable this side of heaven.

bah humbug

well I can't say I'm feeling all stoked for Christmas this year. Obviously there is the matter of What Happened, but just in general I am uninspired. It just feels stressful more than anything else.

There's the Christmas shopping which I have barely made a dent in. The chaos of all The Band's family currently staying at my house and for an Undetermined Period of Time.... ya!!! The chaos of all my family on Christmas day. The Christmas carols. The way It Was Meant To Be. The thing is that this month has been so chaotic - a drive around the perimeter of the country (practically), two weekends away, another coming up, my brother's wedding this past saturday (and all the build up to that), christmas in EL (hopefully*) and then back home to all the inlaws for like 2 weeks.

Really, if I could choose, I would probably just have stayed home, me and The Band no one staying at our house, no Boney M, just a good book and a few choice series. Just some down time.

But perhaps I am just feeling jaded because of these two little fun developments that have transpired just this morning:

1. I got an email from SARS saying that I was going to be refunded R3500. NICE! Jubilation! Merry Christmas to me! etc etc. I clicked on the confirmation link and where did it lead? A nasty porn website! I feel defiled!! So no income tax refunds coming my way. I checked online and they only owe my 11c.

2. *The Band called earlier to say that he had bad news. He had checked our flights to EL (to my family for Christmas) and discovered that he had somehow booked them for OCTOBER!!! So never mind the cost of new flights, there actually aren't any to EL! they are all booked. Lovely. So now we are flying into PE and hiring a car from there. What a mission. Costing an extra R4k! Ridiculous expense but my dad insists on paying for it. He wants us home for Christmas, doesn't care about the cost. I'm very very blessed to have a dad like that.

Anyway, truth be told I am a bit of a sucker for Christmas. Perhaps it will be better than I expect. 
Wishing you and yours a very special Christmas x

2.5 kids and a white picket fence

The Band and I still obviously want to have kids. Ah. I say that so calmly and rationally, actually, like those of you who've lost a child will know all to well, I am desperate to hold my own baby. I may avoid other babies like the plague, but to hold my own baby... I dream of that.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on the matter.

Plett Gynae said wait 3 months for your body to heal and 9 months for your heart to heal.
Antenatal Class Teacher said give it time, but not too much.
Shrink Lady (she of the no-lying-on-the-chaise-lounge!) said "I hope you aren't putting it off now!
And New Gynae (replacement of Unpopular Previous Gynae) suggested that physically I am healthy so we should just live and let live.

So who do you listen to? Considering that not one of these women have experienced this themselves... Well, you listen to yourself of course! :) In other words you choose the opinions you like and ignore those you don't. So instead of waiting to officially start trying at some distant point (and all the pressure that goes with that) in theory we are going with option D "live and let live". I say in theory because I have never been so conscious of my own cycle before.

Guv Bio

I mentioned a while ago that I would be doing a post about The Guv. When "everything happened" we decided to get a kitten. I'd wanted one for aaaages. It sounds simple, right? Actually it was really tough tracking down a kitten in September... apparently that's not "kitten season". Ya, who knew!? Anyway, eventually Tamara told me about Pets, a township pet rescue organisation. After filling in a 5 page adoption application form (which had to include references!!) and convincing them that I am, in fact, a rather eligible person to own a pet (hallo, I am a bunny hugging vegetarian who works for WWF!??!?), we got a little ball of fluff who we named The Guv.

 

Here he is about 5 weeks old only. So sweet. Looks so helpless and gentle...

mmm.

Well that didn't last! The Guv is growing up fast and he has demonic tendencies! Like when The Band and I returned from our weekend away a couple of weeks ago and he punished us by unceasingly attacking our bright red burnt legs. He is a law unto himself and the poor dogs are being a terrorised now that he's a bit bigger. He chases them round the house and they flee in terror!

He takes up the whole bed. Really, we can't get a decent night's sleep coz he will be smack bang in the middle and you have to squish to the side so as to not inconvenience His Majesty.

You know how sometimes you make bunny ears behind someone's head in a photo?

He enjoys making a mess wherever he goes. Attacking packets, toilet paper, clothes, dogs and us is just one of the services he offers.

And most peculiar of all.....

He has a water fetish. I didn't even think DOGS drank out the toilet in real life but The Guv will do so at any opportunity! He has hopped in the shower and the bath before (the shower is his favourite though). Not normal, not by a long shot.

Here The Band displays The Guv's 6 pack.... at least someone in the house has one!!

Perhaps The Guv's most useful attribute is that he is an incredible Fly Slayer. It's unbelievable. He is a stealthy hunter. When there is a fly around he will start making squeaky little miaows. To the untrained ear they sound almost sweet, but to those in the know, it is time to fear! The hunt begins and he is ruthless. He will knock over lamps, climb the blinds and demolish any breakables until he catches it and he ALWAYS catches it (and eats it - eew) in the end.

Truth be told, we adore The Guv and he adores us. When we arrive home he meets us at the door and proceeds to follow us around the house as long as we're there. He hates to be ignored and if I am cooking, or brushing my teeth, or washing the dishes or whatever he will simply climb up my leg and sit on my shoulder. Cute and a little sore from a 5 week old kitten, frikken excrutiating from a 4 month old cat. EINA!

Goals update

I seem to have lost a post somewhere... but anyway!

A quick update

Goal 1: 6kg down and have started a bit of road running. Went this morning with The Band which was cool.

Goal 2: Have put together a very detailed calendar step by step for getting the business started. We were told last week that our offices will be moving from Stellenbosch to Cape Town by the end of next year. Feels like confirmation for me. There is no way I am happy to spend 2 hours a day in traffic and even less so if we have a child by then, so ya, feels like the end of an era, and my mind is pretty much made up.

Ooooooh I nearly forgot! I went to the SHRINK last week! I was quite disappointed: no lying on a chaise lounge like in the movies... just sitting on a couch (hardly the same!) It was good. Some of it was very helpful, particularly as she specialises in pregnancy related psychology and understands the medical side of things... ya, who knew there even was such a thing. Basically she was on the whole trying to see if I was suffering from post traumatic stress and if my marriage was suffering. negative and negative. I am doing fine, just walking the long and lonely road of grief. I won't go back, I don't think it is necessary, and she doesn't either, though she gave me stuff to read and things to look out for.

Anyway, that's me and where I'm at. Still fragile - yesterday a friend with a newborn mentioned something in passing about another friend who is having her caesar today. It was actually quite a funny story and at the time I laughed, but minutes later it hit me again: the sickening realisation that yet another friend will be having her child (the first of my friends to have a girl since... and she will be dark haired on top of it) and I am stuck on the same treadmill, running and running and getting nowhere and watching their joy, their self-indulgent pity (*sigh* I am getting no sleep *smiles fondly at baby*) UGH! and drowning in envy and what ifs and could have beens. Putting on the brave face when I see them, crying with the pain when I'm out of sight, and feeling the emptiness of here.

Baby Loss Meme

Living in the Rainbow suggested I do this meme. There is something jarring about the fact that there is even such a thing as baby loss meme. That's not to say I think it is wrong, I think it just jars because traditionally blog memes are such frivolous fun things (Got writer's block? do a meme) and this one is so not that.

Losing my baby girl has opened up this whole other world in my life... I was completely oblivious of its existance until 2 months ago. Now I have friends from around the world thanks to a shared tragic commonality. In many ways I feel like I know other "baby lost" parents better than some people I've known all my life. Another part of this world which jars me is that it has its own lingo. Baby lost parents. Rainbow babies. TTC. etc. etc. There is something so sad in that. I'm trying to figure out what the essence of that sadness is and I suppose it is that this whole realm is so established. So real. So definite. But I digress...

Onwards to the meme. Oh... and BTW I am going for complete honesty here, trusting that this is a safe place for that.

1. What do you want people to know about the child you have lost?
I guess the initial and most obvious thing would be that she is a person, she has an identity, she is loved, she matters.

When we got to the hospital on that awful day and they scanned but found no heartbeat, I asked the doctor whether the baby was a boy or a girl. She responded "that's not important." A while later when she was finished with the "intense" part of the scan (where she was really trying to figure out what went wrong and what danger I was in) she asked if I had questions. I said "yes. Is the baby a girl or a boy?" She said "why is that important?" In my head I was screaming, but I was muted by shock and so Stef answered "because it is!" She checked and told us that she was a girl.

That moment was a horrible one for me. Of course now with the shock subsided I would be able to give that doctor millions of reasons why that questions matters. Some of them are: I knew her, we knew her, we loved her, we love her, we miss her, we have dreamt of her, we look toward the day we will see her again. When a person dies, we don't forget them... really pointing out the obvious here: a baby is a person! It is not as if some miraculous metamorphosis happens between the womb and the outside world and so I guess that takes me back to the first line of this answer.

Sophia is our first born. I have a daughter. We are parents. We will love all future children of course, but they can not replace her.

2. What names did you give your child and why?
We had decided to go the traditional route and not find out whether we were having a boy or a girl. We had names in mind for both. Nevertheless, as I've mentioned before, I knew we were having a girl. I had dreamt of her and seen her in my mind's eye so many times and when people used to say they "knew" it was a boy I'd be downride annoyed with them.

When "everything happened" we needed to decide on a name. We'd originally wanted to name our daughter after my gran who died last year, but knowing our little girl too had died, I just couldn't do that. And so we went with the name we had saved for our second daughter, Sophia Grace. It was a sad moment... naming our child. I was still in labour at that stage and it was so so far from the "moment of naming" that I had expected. I had thought that I would be holding my baby girl, cuddling her, a lifetime of possibility before us. Instead it was a sad conversation in a hospital hallway.

Sophia Grace is a beautiful name and it suits her. I wrestle a bit with this though: I don't want to ever be at a place where she becomes "she who shall not be mentioned". I want to speak of her and have people speak of her and yet I can barely say "Sophia" without my voice catching and my eyes filling.

We didn't even know, when naming her, that Sophia means Wisdom. Wisdom and Grace are her names and I believe her character has both. Both are what we need in navigating our way through this.

3. What rituals or ways of memorializing your child seem to best help you cope with their loss?
The day I found out I was pregnant we began a book of letters to Sophia. We recorded all the adventures of pregnancy, all the scans, the first kicks, the special moments. We had planned to keep writing in that book until she was 21 and giving it to her then. We have continued writing in that book from time to time.

I also had her name inscribed on my wrist and I love that.

I have chatted with the ladies from Bosom Buddies about their supporting moms whose babies die and I hope to become more involved in this after a time in honour of my daughter. I think that the various ways moms and dads honour their children's memories is incredibly beautiful. I will do a whole post on this at another time.

I think as time goes by I will find different ways of keeping her in remembrance.

4. What are the kindest and/or most helpful things people have said to you? What are the worst?
The kindest things really are when people have the guts to acknowledge what has happened, to say they are sorry for us and to call her by her name. SO FEW PEOPLE mention Sophia by name. She is reduced to "that thing that happened". So I guess it's not in specific words, it is more in people's attitudes. People mean to be kind when they pretend that nothing has changed. I know their hearts are right... they don't want to put me on the spot. But it grieves me... things HAVE changed. EVERYTHING has changed. My daughter matters and mentioning her by name acknowledges that.

People have, in general, been thoughtful, but some of the worst things have come from some people closest to me and have actually been intended as kind. Two examples:

The first: a friend of mine who has an adopted child and a biological child said through my process she has now realised that you are a mother throughout pregnancy and beyond. Seeing me suffer has made her realise that. She never used to think that way because she never thought of her adopted child's biological mom as a mom at all. The biological mom never held him, comforted him, fed him. She "merely" carried him for 9 months.

I realise that it may be difficult to see why this was so sore to hear... I'll try to explain. I guess it was the mention of any doubt at all that you're a mom from the start. I guess it was the initial dismissal of the bond a mom and child share through the womb in comparison to the shared joy that follows birth.

The second: my closest friend is fiercely protective of me and I of her. When I returned from Plett, she told me that when she'd heard what was going on, she had just wanted to drive there and be with me, but, she said, in retrospect it is perhaps good that she didn't coz The Band and I were so strong and so sure in our actions and choices in that time (referring to us knowing that I should go through natural labour instead of a c-section).

She said (and here it comes....) when she'd heard that I was going through labour she couldnt bare the thought of it and felt that those doctors should just "get it out of Caz". Now I don't know if she said "it", maybe she said "her" but that's what I heard. My daughter, reduced to an "it" to be eradicated. That one hurt a lot, probably because I think that just about everyone (The Band excluded) probably felt the exact same way. I know my brothers and my dad couldn't understand why I was going through labour. And all these people only felt this out of love and protection for me. I know that. But for me, as a mom, I would have laid down my life for my daughter and it's heartbreaking that those closest to me still think of me first... if they'd ever met her, or known her like I had, she would have captured their hearts too... not just the prospect of her, but HER and then they may have felt differently.

Hmmm I am aware that the above is confusing and I don't know if it'll make any sense to anyone. oh well.

5. Who is your hero? Who helps you make it through the dark days better than anyone else on the planet?
The Band - he draws me out of myself. He loves me unconditionally. He doesn't judge. He knows when to just hold me. He speaks of Sophia with such love.

This blog - an outlet for so many emotions. A place of support and love. Through blogging I have had the privilege of learning through the experiences of others and of getting glimpses of their children who, perhaps, are friends with Sophia in heaven.

Claudine - Claudine lost her daughter last year and has since given birth to her second child, beautiful little Madison. The midwife at the hospital called Claudine and asked her to come visit. She ended up coming by every day of my hospital stay. I think that hearing her story, her lessons, before I'd even given birth was immensely helpful and made such a difference to the whole thing. We have stayed in close contact and I have come to value her as an incredible women and a very caring friend. She totally gets it and I thank God for her.

My aunt aka FA (favourite aunt) and I am FN (favourite niece) though no one knows about that but us :).
FA lost her husband 10 years ago in a tragic car accident. They were very much in love and weren't yet forty when it happened. She has known tragedy. And she has known grief. She has known the reality of life moving steadily on all around you while you are stuck at the point of impact. She generally calls me once a week on a Wednesday coz she knows Wednesdays are tough days for me. She sometimes remembers it's Wednesday before I do. She asks the questions that no one else is brave enough to. She gets me to talk about things and she always calls Sophia by name.

The Guv - ok, ok, so The Guv may not be a hero (although he is a skilled fly slayer and we are very proud of his prowess!) but he is a delight. This little kitten crept into our hearts and has brought us so many laughs and much joy. Waking up to a handful of fur staring at you about 3cm from your face and purring furiously means that your very very first thought is not of your despair and grief. And no, as one person asked, I don't feel like he somehow fills the gap because now I have something to mother (I MEAN SERIOUSLY!????) but a kitten is a very sweet thing, and this crazy little feline is particularly special and in fact warrants his own post on another day.

6. Is there anything you need to say or want to say but haven’t been able to? Can you say it now?
Unless you have lost a child (in which case the following becomes a thing of hope for me) please don't tell me about your baby or your pregnancy. Please don't hear what I'm not saying: if you have a blog, what you write there is 100% your business, your space, your privilege, it is my choice whether I am strong enough to read it or not, but here in this space and particularly in real life, don't assume, because I am going through the motions, sucking it up, smiling, laughing, joking, that I'm not in agony. The constant narrative in my head details how different things should be now, how big Sophia should be now, what we should be doing now.

Also curiosity kills the cat, or as the Afrikaans say "van nuuskierigheid is die tronke vol and die kerke leeg" (from curiosity, the jails are full and the churches are empty). I understand the heart behind it, but don't worry about warning me against reading this magazine or that blog... that makes me curious to know what you think I shouldn't read and makes me more likely to read it.

I am sadly far from the place where I can feel genuine joy for others with regards to their babies... It hurts so so much to hear about babies and pregnancies. I hope and pray this changes at some point, of course I want to be happy for people I care about and I am, but it is coupled with so much agony.

The Band and I actually spoke about this last night. It is not the same for him and he had no idea that it was as bad for me because I am very talented at putting on a happy face. What would be helpful is for you to pray for me on this one because as I have mentioned in the past, I don't want to feel like this, it's not something I like in myself, but it is the way it is.

7. How are you doing? How are you really doing?
I have my ups and my downs. In general I am somewhere inbetween. Everything has changed. I feel this defiant indifference with regards to the opinions of others, a kind of "this is me, take it or leave it" attitude which is really probably only some lame attempt at trying to regain some form of control. I really really battle to be mentally motivated. Work feels like running on a treadmill uphill in the heat and without the endorphin rush. I feel like my life is in limbo until I have another child. I feel like there is such unfinished business just hanging in the air... I am a mom without my baby. Empty arms. I feel restless in this place.

When I am down (ya, the above is not a description of down.. that's just the normal... scary but true) I feel like I am drowning. It is a terrifying feeling. A suffocating, desperation. An awful, dreadful powerlessness. Reminds me a bit of The Nothingness in The Neverending Story. When I am up I feel hope... hope for the babies we will still have (God willing). Hope for the day I meet Sophia in heaven.

Hope for Lily?

I just found this article on how a guy in a permanent vegetative state for 3 years was given sleeping tablets which paradoxically awoke parts of the brain which were deemed dead. This mom tells of how they are giving the drug to their brain damaged daughter. According to the scans, there is something in the tablet which increases oxygen flow to those parts of the brain. Could this be a possibility for Lily?

Anyone have any clue how I'd go about taking this forward? I have been trying to track down the doctor - Dr Wally Nel - but no luck so far.

Any ideas?
Meanwhile I'll keep you posted!

Can you imagine

not knowing what colour your daughter's eyes are?

not knowing the sound of her laugh? or cry?

listening to people talking about their children, their babies, in front of you, knowing that to them it's nothing, but to you it's everything and something you'll never have the absolute privilege of doing?

realising all over again that this is it.

If you can't imagine, this is how it feels:
sickening, physically nauseating, physically painful, lonely, very, very lonely, isolating, desperate, dark.

Why I haven't been writing

coz I don't have much to say.

Life is just moving along. Work is really busy - focusing on our new Vote Earth campaign... listen out for the radio ads, my voice features.

Still going strong with Goal 1 and am now 5kgs down.

Goal 2 is tougher, the life coach has given me a values survey to fill in, the theory being that you are more likely to achieve the goals that support your values.

Finally had a bit of progress with The Band yesterday when he muttered something mildly bitter about someone with kids. I think I actually said "FINALLY!" Crikey... it's a relief to see some kind of self pity there because I am frikken swimming in it!!

Beauty from ashes

Great things done in Sophia's name: read about it here.

Goal update:2

Goal 1: Get in shape
Progress: Have now lost 4kgs. Yay. Really enjoying the eating plan still, especially now that the SIL has taught me how to cook all kinds of vegetarian curries etc. Also loving the variety of exercise I've been doing: spinning, abs classes, powerplate classes, hikes, etc.
Next steps: Keep it up!

Goal 2: New venture
Progress: Have appointed a life coach who specialises in helping entrepreneurs to start their businesses. Perfect no? Even more perfect: he happens to be my brother. Have also, somewhat cheekily, already grabbed at an opportunity to feature the business in a publication that is coming out for tourists attending the world cup. How's that for bold? Have also acquired some contacts in terms of setting up a CC etc.
Next steps: Meet up with the brains trust to determine (official) first steps.

2 months

Two months ago today I was in labour. My life was in peril. My heart was held together only by prayers. The ground was falling away beneath me. My dreams were dying.

Two months ago I held you in my arms. My little bundle wrapped in pink. You were heavier than I expected and I was so tired. But you were beautiful. If I could go back I would hold you forever.

Goals update

The Virgin Life Care website assures me that I have far greater chance of reaching my goals if I track my progress, so bear with me!

Goal 1: Get in shape
Progress: I've lost about 3kgs. Feeling a bit happier in my own skin, but still a way to go! To be honest, for the most part I'm enjoying it. The exercise has been so good for me. The eating side has been made easier by a visit from the Sister-In-Law who is a great healthy food cook.
Next steps: Don't lose motivation when my training buddy goes away for a whole month!

Goal 2: New Venture
Progress: Sent emails to people whose wisdom I want on this, my parents and a couple in the church. Wanted to hear their perspectives in terms of where I'm at and who I am rather than the merits only of the business itself. Is it wise for me? Got some good input. My dad's main advice is about minimising risk, in other words, start the business and have it viable before before resigning here. Makes sense, but will be tough doing both.
Next steps: Set up a meeting of what The Band has dubbed The Brains Trust. Pick the brains of a few close friends with experience of starting their own ventures, setting up CCs, etc etc.

Will keep you posted x

Walking the tightrope

People who see me for the first time always ask me how I'm doing (*intense look, head tilted to the side*) What do you say to that? I still don't have a good standard answer. The polite thing to say is "alright thanks". The truth is "up, down, surviving, drowning, glimmers of optimism, chunks of denial, pools of depression, zero motivation, infinite sadness, despair, hopelessness."

Yesterday I had this strange feeling. As I mentioned before, I've been in distraction and avoidance mode lately, and yesterday it felt like this: I remembered again with shock what had happened to this girl I know. This girl I love. She had the most awful thing happen to her and I feel so sad for her. I felt muted shock as I recalled it. That girl is Caz Past. The Old Me. The girl who is no longer here. What a weird feeling. To feel sorry for a past you. To think of yourself in the 3rd person. I guess perhaps I got a glimpse of how others might feel about me. As I allowed myself to think about it more and more the externality of that grief became less. The grief merged back into its rightful place; within Caz Now.

I wonder if there are elements of depression setting in. If I should go speak to a grief counsellor. How would I know? I have mastered the "I still fit in with all of you, lets discuss inane frivolous things" act. I feel an expectation from people to suck it up now. They see the "together" me and think that's my reality, but that's a fraction of it. There is a lack of joy. There is a sick heaviness that never leaves. I think of summer and I feel so so sad. I am dreading summer. I guess its mostly because of how different it was meant to be but also because last summer was one of such adventure - we had an amazing journey - bazaruto, zimbabwe, zambia, it was a time of such joy and excitement all culminating in Sophia's conception near Victoria Falls. This summer takes me somehow further away from Sophia.

that damn sun

The last two weeks I have been kept really busy. I am back at work, I am also now able to exercise so been doing plenty of that. I've allowed myself to just escape in it all. When I have a moment, I swallow it down and get on with something else. Distraction.

But it bubbles there, this grief. It prowls beneath the surface and when I let my guard down, out it creeps.

The other day I walked through The Room Formerly Known As The Nursery. It was mid-morning and the sun was shining through the sliding doors which open out to the garden. It looked so beautiful and warm. A wonderful place for Sophia to rest in.A place I would want to rest in. A place to sit, nursing my baby girl. A place for the two of us.

Something as small as the sun shining in crushed me. The room is no longer a nursery. It is now just a shell. Everything packed away. An empty, echoey room.

Lily...

So many have you have contacted me either through this blog or seperately to find out if you can donate money to help with the situation. Thank you all for caring.

I don't want to take any money until I know what it can be used for so I will (obviously) keep you guys posted. At this stage I'm not sure how money could help.

What is needed first and foremost is for a home to accept her... so please - those of you who do - pray for that.

South African Tragedy: Part 5

I should be surprised, but really I'm not.

So Tuesday Kuselwa and Mavis go to the hospital to be with Lily* when she is moved to Sive Nathi. They wait and wait and wait. They are told that when the ambulance driver is ready he will take them. They wait and wait and wait some more. Eventually at 16:30 he is ready but needs the phone number of Sive Nathi before he will leave. The hospital does not have it. The social worker can't be reached. Mavis calls me and i find it for her.
They phone to confirm that Sive Nathi are expecting them. Affirmative.

So? all systems go right?

No. Now the ambulance driver has disappeared. They wait and wait. They ask and are told he will come back. Eventually Mavis leaves to be with her children. Kuselwa waits some more. She ends up spending the night in the chair next to Lily's bed.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH
I can not believe the complete disregard these people have for this woman. How can you care so little? Even forgetting the fact that they have ruined her life and destroyed her child, it is shocking to treat someone like that. As if her time means nothing. As if her comfort means nothing. She is missing work to be there because they told her to, they don't give a dam.

Eventually yesterday at mid day the ambulance dropped them off at Sive Nathi.

It gets worse.

Sive Nathi looked at Lily and said they can't care for her. She needs medical attention daily, they only have a doctor visit once a week. Surely her condition was communicated before they got there? Before they approved her arrival?

And so Kuselwa and Lily waited and waited again for the ambulance to return and take them back to Stellenbosch Hospital.

False hope is cruel. What choices are left for this child?

I spoke to the social worker today and she reckons that Lily does not need to see a doctor daily at all. If she was ill, sure, but she is not. She thinks everyone is avoiding taking Lily because of the legal issues surrounding her story. They are scared to get involved. How sad is that? Fortunately the social worker has really taken this case to heart and I know that she will do everything in her power to find a place.

* the saddest thing ever. Mavis told me she went to the hospital on the weekend for the first time in a while. She said when she said hallo to Lily, Lily began to cry - silently - then she calmed down. When Mavis said goodbye she began crying again. Also when they were packing her things and preparing to leave the hospital on Tuesday she cried again. It seems that incredibly, she must have some cognicense of what is going on. I'm not sure if this is heartbreaking and hopeful or just plain heartbreaking, but I do know that this little girl absolutely needs to have company, to be spoken to, to be stimulated.

Goals to keep me going

Over the past week or two I set myself a few goals. Goals and deadlines are what make me tick. I'm pretty useless without them.

Goal 1:
Lose all the pregnancy weight and a bit more.

I didn't want to stuff around with random diets and eating plans also I need to make sure that my body is a healthy one going forward so I bit the bullet and went to a dietician two weeks ago and signed up at the shmancy new Virgin Active.

I am a week and a half into my new, improved way of eating (basically low GI) and it is a breeze so far. Seeing dietician on Friday so will update you then. Been gymming and spinning and powerplating and hiking and am really loving it at this stage.

Goal 2:
Launch a business that would:
a) Provide me more freedom to spend time with the Band and future children and to allow me to invest time in people, to be there for people if they need me. for example if a mom finds out that her baby has died and needs to speak to someone, I'd like to be able to go be with her.

b) Provide opportunities for incredible women who currently have none. AKA Mavis's sisters.

c) Provide a decent income and a brand new adventure.

I've got the idea worked out and have been speaking to relevant people about it. For now I just need to muster up the energy. I am so mentally demotivated... really battling to focus on my work too. The Band is trying to help me set small steps and deadlines. Once I get going it's ok, but getting going is tough.

You guys need to help keep me motivated, ok?

South African Tragedy: Part 4

I went to see Lily today over lunch.

Wow. My heart. I can't make peace with what has happened to this beautiful little girl so how on earth can her mom?

The good news is that the social worker has finally found a home that will take Lily in. She says she has been hounding all the homes for months and months but they are all either filled beyond capacity or don't have the facilities to care for a case as severe as Lily.

Anyway, finally a place called Sive Nathi (God hears us in Xhosa) has agreed to take her in. I found this infoon Sive Nathi and it is a bit outdated, but wow. It sounds like a sad story too! People genuinely trying to make a difference with pretty much no support from government. You can check out their website here.

Basically they are at this stage needing R500 per month in order to accomodate Lily. I told the social worker that of course that is fine. Although she was trying to see if she could get the hospital to contribute which I believe they should, on principle!

Anyway, once Lily has been moved there I will try go see it and see what some of the realities are. Will keep you guys posted.

These are my friends

And suddenly it all started making sense....

The Others

One of the really horrible and unexpected results of "the thing that happened to me" has been my reaction to pregnant women and moms with babies*.

I know it's a cliche to say "you feel like you've been punched in the stomach" but that is the precise feeling when I see a pregnant woman. It's not even just seeing them. It's reading on facebook how you are "loving cuddling your baby" and how you "can't believe she's already 3 months old!" that makes me want to vomit. I wonder if this eases over time coz it feels like it is getting stronger. Perhaps only when I am pregnant again myself. But perhaps not even then.

The envy that courses through my body when I see or read such things is hard to describe. I can't say I'd ever genuinely envied before all this. I suppose there were moments of envy, but it would be inconsequential things, this is 100%, full blown envy and it's not pretty.

I scowl. I actually do. Sometimes, if I'm with a friend, I make a joke of it and hiss at the pregnant woman (not so that she can see of course). But the truth is it is not a joke. Even when I'm alone and I see one my face contorts into a grimace. It's not intentional, I don't want to feel this way, I don't want to have no joy left for others, but right now that's who I am. Not proud of it at all.

Pregnant women all look so oblivious, so genuinely carefree and happy. I'll play the psychoanalyst here: perhaps what I despise in them is the resemblence between them and me when I was pregnant.

It sickens me to think how I moaned about being uncomfortable. How I longed for the pregnancy to be over. How I felt sorry for myself!??!?! How I took it all for granted. I hate those parts of my past, pregnant self.

* Randomly there are exceptions to this. Certain people, if they are sensitive toward me or if I can see that they truly know and appreciate how blessed they are, don't upset me. But those women who gush in front of me, or directly to me - and yes, it has happened - about their delight at being pregnant, and those new moms who moan about getting no sleep and being so tired.... they give me violent thoughts.

90 years and still crying

Last night I spoke to The Band's 90 year old gran, Ouma.

She lost her second baby when she was about 5 weeks old. I had known this via my father in law, but Ouma has never ever spoken about it to him or anyone. Last night she broke that and spoke about it to me.

She said that she still cries for her baby. 60-something years later she cries for her baby and longs for her. She says the pain never ever goes away. Over the years you cry less, but you long for that child all your life. You see a baby and your heart aches - even if you've had other children.

Her baby died 6 September, her anniversary and Sophia's are days apart. I think our loss has been so so hard on her. Sophia is her first great grandchild.

I think of this woman carrying so much pain for so many years. In those days the solution was "you'll have other kids". I suppose there was little understanding and so she carried it all alone. Bottled it all up inside. She never spoke of it to her husband or her children. What a lonely road.

I so appreciated her just speaking straight with me. Everyone tells me it will get better. Here's a woman who has gone through it herself. She warned me: Caz, it doesn't get much better. That is the blunt truth. Don't get me wrong - there is still so much joy and beauty in this life. I would still, on the whole, describe myself as a happy person. But the pain is here to stay and quite frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Weird but true.

Ouma said that the first thing she plans on doing when she gets to heaven is finding her girl and mine and telling them how much they are loved.

Guess who's back

back again

(at work)

Day 1 yesterday was not bad. I arrived and my office was full of flowers and chocolates. About a million people came in and gave me hugs from the CEO to the cleaners - which is one of the things I love about where I work, amazing people.
It was intense but ok.

South African Tragedy: Part 3

Sorry guys. You've asked a few times for an update on Lily and I haven't gotten to it. (For those of you with no idea what I'm on about, check here and here)

The news isn't great. It all went down in June and her condition hasn't changed. About a month ago she was transferred back to Stellenbosch Hospital from Tygerberg Hospital - I guess it's a capacity thing - which isn't great as Stellenbosch is where the bugger up happened in the first place. Mavis, our maid (Lily's aunt) says that the other day her sister noticed that two of Lily's bottom teeth were missing. She asked the nurse and the nurse said perhaps they had been knocked out when they suctioned excess saliva from her mouth. Perhaps I am being paranoid but to me that sounds like they are not exactly being gentle with her... A 2.5 year old's teeth should not be knocked out very easily. It is concerning to me and to Lily's mom of course.

Ah man, the whole thing makes me despair. I can't believe how powerless we really are. The social workers are apparently trying to find some kind of home for Lily to be moved to but apparently they all say that her condition is too bad. I spoke to the Band about Lily coming here to our house (If she ever does have to leave the hospital I can't think that she should go lie in a shack - the risk of infection and other unsafeties is high and scary) but the reality is that she needs to be in a place where there are people all the time. So I guess the waiting continues.

In terms of the lawyers... well they take forever. I think that's just normal with the law process.

Mavis says her sister (Kuselwa - Lily's mom) is really battling. She works 6 days a week and earns a horrific salary. Her work have never once asked about Lily and in the times she has had to rush to the hospital they have shouted at her telling her business is business. No compassion. This poor woman is so alone. My heart breaks for her. What's more is that even Mavis and the rest of the family battle with visiting Lily. It is really hard for them. Mavis says that she feels so bad - she is hardly even asking about Lily and acting like she doesn't care, but it is because she cares too much and it hurts too much. She said that when I went to hospital she was finished and realised she (mavis) wants to go for counselling to deal with what has happened to Lily and to me.

This is such a special family. I wish there was more that I could do. Providing employment for Kuselwa would be a start, but I wish that Lily could at least be given some dignity instead of remaining in the care of the same staff who allowed this nightmare to happen in the first place.

When I compare situations - Lily in that cold hospital and me in the Plett Mediclinic - the only patient - I realise how terribly unfair life in SA still is.