We're nearly there

Time is somehow passing by against all odds. I guess the world cup helps (I wonder if there is any girl in the country who's watched as much soccer as me! I'm really quite into it and will probably have to blow vuvuzelas to put the Kernel to sleep when she's born!). I've somehow been busy with a million little things - final touches on the nursery (hoping to be done by Saturday in which case there will be a MASSIVE photo shoot at long last!) and, in the midst of all the baby preparation, we have made an offer on a house. Ya - apparently we don't like to keep things simple and timing is not our gift! Anyway bla bla bla it is exciting and all that, but it's not really top of mind for me at the moment. We will hear back from the bank in the next week or so and then we'll know if we've got it in which case I'll tell you all about it.

The Band and I had the official Names Talk the other day. We chatted through a bunch of names and eventually pretty much decided though we'll only decide for sure sure when she's born. The Band said to me he'd thought very little about names and perhaps it was because he is protecting himself in case something happens. That was quite hectic. He is always the strong, rational one. The optimist. The voice of reason. It was hectic to hear a little about his fears. I've seen it in other people too (though none of them would admit it I'm sure). My mom would sing to Sophia and wanted to feel her kick and all that. She bought heaps of clothes and stuff for her, but with The Kernel she's done none of that. I think she is guarding her heart as well. A few of my friends are the same. Even my CEO said to me "we will celebrate when she is here". Some people refer vaguely to "the situation" I am in and can't even say "pregnancy" or "baby". They skirt around the topic when it comes to me.

How does that make me feel? Firstly bear in mind it's all subtle of course. I guess it makes me feel sad. Sad for The Kernel. Poor little thing. She's done nothing wrong and yet people are guarding their hearts from her. Of course I understand it completely - you'll remember in the early months I did the same thing until I came to a point where I was strong enough to consciously decide to celebrate her because she deserves it and because even if the worst happened I'd never regret loving her, just as I have never wished that I loved Sophia less so that it could have hurt less. I guess it's just another sad reality of pregnancy after loss: people guard their hearts.

On the positive side I have had a handful of friends who've taken it upon themselves to celebrate with me and sometimes in spite of me. My one friend drops off a wrapped present in my postbox every Friday morning to celebrate another week of pregnancy. How awesome is that? The gifts have ranged from bath toys to babygrows to matching mom and daughter bangles to edible treats and so on. Another friend of mine who I work with talks to The Kernel every time she sees me. She's gunning to be favourite "aunt". People like this have helped stir my excitement and I've needed that.

Yesterday was our final scan. The Kernel now weighs a little over 2kg meaning she'll probably weigh about 2.2 at birth. I'm really hoping and praying she weighs at least that much coz babies still lose weight and I don't think a baby can go home if they weigh less than 2. Anyway we have the cutest premmie outfits and nappies all ready for her - even the newborn stuff looks hefalumpish in comparison!

On Tuesday and Wednesday I will have steroid shots and on Thursday evening I will go into the hospital (can't wait - will feel much safer when I'm there!) and we'll get the induction going so that by Friday morning we should know whether natural will be possible or if we have to go for a caesar.

I can't believe this time next week I'll be just about to drive to the hospital. I don't even know unpregnant Caz anymore. And what of the mourning? What of the moment when I no longer have to keep it together coz I have a baby on board? Is there a massive dark hole ahead of me? Am I the most prime candidate for postnatal depression ever? Or will The Kernel bring such healing and joy that the mourning will continue gently as it has been? My friends who've been through this - a child after losing one - have had such varied experiences. All I know is that I can't wait to hold this little girl. Good luck to The Band, my folks and any other visitors... they will be very lucky if they get a chance to hold her... maybe if I need to pee but that may just be it! :)

Update: The Kernel

Can you believe that in less than 2 weeks I'll be holding The Kernel at long long looooooooooong last!?

I am so excited.

It has been good to be home. To not be distracted by all the mayhem of work. It means I can be far more conscious of her movements and I now know her routine pretty well (ie less freaking out!). It's often just her and I so we chat a lot more which is great.

My mom (aka The Mothball) was here this week and we got stacks done. We've gone through all the baby clothes and sorted them by size. We've washed them all and all the blankets and also all the nappies. We even sewed little fabric heart tie backs for the nursery!

The nursery is looking gorgeous. In my rather biased opinion it is the most gorgeous nursery ever. I will do a photo post soon - there is one last thing that needs to be done - a bookshelf which will be painted this coming week - and then I promise there will be pics galore.

The hospital bags are packed for her and for me and now its just a case of counting down the last 13 sleeps.

Can't wait!

Updates: The Baby Shower

The BFF asked me what I wanted for a baby shower... last time it was a huge thing - probably 40 something people, food galore, games, the whole traditional deal.
It was a tough call deciding what to do this time round. One part of me wanted to say "let's rather leave it til she's born"... it seemed safer, less vulnerable. I hated sitting with a million gifts last time, a million happy congratulatory cards, and no baby.

But that wouldn't be right. The Kernel deserves to be celebrated and I can't live in the what ifs... not at this stage!

And so we decided on a totally different baby shower vibe. The Non-Baby Shower. A small group of very specifically selected girls - all people who have really been there for me and really understand and aren't about to moan about their kids or say anything stoopid and insensitive - including a friend who lost her baby at term a few weeks after me and 2 friends who'd recently miscarried - went for dinner. We went to a fancy restaurant in Somerset West - Henri's. It was such a great night. What an awesome group of people. The food was gourmet. Lovely. And we had a room to ourselves. I got spoilt with really really special things for the Little Princess and I think great memories were made.

I've had 5 baby showers now (yep! 3 with Sophia and 2 with The Kernel) and this was certainly the best one.

Updates: The Job

There is so much to update you on and my writing mojo is really not great at the
moment for some reason so I'm splitting this over a few posts.

Job first... on my last day in the office the boss called and said he didn't want me resigning, could i work from home for 6 months and then if I want to resign and consult that's that. (pretty much what I asked for in the first place)

So ya, that's cool.

My last day of work was awesome - sorted out my office, had a baby shower from my colleagues, then they had a staff football match, then a braai and then we watched the World Cup opening ceremony. Now that's how a day at the office is supposed to be.

Being on maternity leave is AWESOME!!! Loving it! The Band works largely from home so I get to see plenty of him and The Guv which is great :)

The rollercoaster part two

Firstly all is fine. The Kernel is ok and we are both home now.

Since the last post there were one or two more scary moments - mostly due to nurses lacking tact, but never mind.

At the specialist EVERYTHING was checked and everything is fine. That being said, with the chance of repeated placental abruption the Specialist basically said that the closer I can stick to the hospital, the better. Scary to hear, but that's the nature of this particular little nasty: it can be so random and sudden and out the blue.

Well with that, I have pretty much decided not to leave Somerset West for the next (less than) 4 weeks.

On my 3rd (and last) morning in hospital one of the nurses got me quite shook up. For starters she asked if this was my first baby. I briefly explained. Her response was "ok, so second pregnancy, but first baby". "no," I said "second baby". How can someone not realise how hurtful that is - to reduce my child to a "pregnancy". It really hurt.

The other thing was that she said that if my baby was born now I wouldnt be able to hold her and I'd barely be able to touch her.

I think there is, however, a big bright side to the whole hospital story. Before this week I'd only ever been in hospital once - and it's not exactly the most happy memory. I've been bracing myself for The Kernel's birth... trying to prepare myself for reliving things, for facing the CTG machine for one (my recurring nightmare) and so on. But now, after being there days and having CTGs every couple of hours I think that some of the edge has been taken off and some of the association of hospital is at least not tragic. I think that having had a positive (or at least a fairly neutral) time in hospital now will hugely help on 9 July when I go in to deliver.

Also, I got chatting to the nurses/sisters and most of them were saying that The Kernel is very likely to go on oxygen and probably to have to spend some time in ICU. I would NEVER have expected that... my thought was that sure 36 weeks is early, but plenty of kids are born then and they're fine. Plus she'll be getting steroids for her lungs. But the nurses reckon that coz she's petite she may have to be in the NICU a bit.

How is the above a positive?

Well if I wasn't expecting that (which I totally wasn't before) then it would have been a hell of a shock and fright on the day. Now at least if it does have to happen I am prepared for it, and if it doesn't it's a bonus.

In other news...
I am now 32 weeks and it's as if the hospital stay suddenly woke my body up to the fact that I am in fact pregnant. I really hadn't had any of the pregnancy symptoms, but after a day or two in hospital I'm having Braxton Hicks contractions for the first time, I have the whole breathlessness thing going, my hips are all dodgy and out of joint and the infernal heartburn has begun... last time it started at 12 weeks so I can't complain too much but MAN it is as bad as I remember - like swallowing a ball of tin foil.

Workwise: After basically saying I'm likely to resign, the CEO has now said that I can in fact work from home for 6 months (which is what I originally requested). After that I will likely resign and work as a consultant for them and others.

Anyway, a bit of a factual post, but wanted to update you on the news.

Riding the rollercoaster

WHAT A DAY!

After all the euphimistic optimism of yesterday: KAZAM!

I woke at 1.30 with bad back ache. De ja vu. There's still that stupid thing in me that is embarassed to overreact and put people out. I dopplered - all good. But the pain wasnt normal so I called the med aid 24 hour medical advice line. The sister there suggested that given "my history" - another of those delightful euphimisms - I should ask the hospital their thoughts. They said that given "my history" I should rather come in. Apologetically woke The Band and off we went.

Funny enough I felt perfectly calm. I could feel her moving and all so that was fine. Got to the hospital and there it was... the moment I've been dreading and nightmaring about for 9 months now.. The CTG machine. Stupid machine. It took at least 20seconds to find her heartbeat and when it did it was so quiet! (Ally McBeal inner voice screamed: "Crank up the volume lady!!!!") *shudder* it was a tough moment!

Anyway, they monitored baby's heartbeat for 30 mins and all looked fine but my doc said I must stay in hospital. Had a scan with her this morning - all fine (but placental abruption doesnt show on scans - but The Kernel was lying horizontally across me)and then another CTG but in this one there wasn't enough activity - the heartbeat was too stable!? Panic. Next thing I'm getting a steroid injection in case we need to do an emergency c-section... and this is the point at which I began to panic. She is only 31.5 weeks and she's little! SO little. Another CTG and off back to the doc... this time the CTG looked good as did the scan. The Kernel had now moved to breech and my back pain was gone so I'm thinking that her transverse position was what was causing the pain (I checked with Dr Google and that's totally possible!)

Anyway, I don't need to tell you the rollercoaster of calm, panic, calm, panic, peptalks from The Band, panic etc today has been. I am still in hospital. BLESS MY DOCTOR - she is taking NO chances! I will be monitored til tomorrow afternoon then I am going to the Fetal Assessment Clinic in Cape Town for an indepth scan to double triple check everything and from there we'll see.

Best case scenario? The Kernel decided to be creative in there and wound up in a very unusual position for this stage of pregnancy which made my back ache and we can carry on as planned to 36 weeks.

This won't be the last time I ask it, :) but please continue to keep The Kernel in your prayers.

Hoping to catch up on some sleep tonight!!!

4.5 weeks to go!

This is my last week in the office. Possibly ever. Hard to believe!!
Next week I'll work from home and then.. voila maternity leave. Bring It On!
Or as my countrymen like to say: Feel it. It is here!

I'm excited.... and scared and so on. But The Kernel has been a good little kicker lately and I've been sleeping better so I am feeling positive in general.
Here's a 4D scan taken on Thursday... she's sucking her arm/hand it seems.



Cool hey. Happy to see chubbyish cheeks - she is still small (about 1.4kg last week when the average is about 1.7kg). The scan day was bittersweet. Thursday marked 9 months since Sophia was born. There's something doubly sad that from now on as time passes there is more time that she hasn't been here than time she was here.

Anyway, this was just a quick one to show the 4D scan. Hope you are all well in Blogland x

The whys and the what ifs

My mom called this morning to tell me of the death of a little boy we'd met a couple of times in Morgan Bay. His name is Callam and he's the most gorgeous child. The sort of boy who grabs your heart in an instant. His parents run Yellowwood Park and we've gone there for lunch a few times. Whenever we do, Callam is around, usually covered in mud and full of curiosity, curls, freckles and mud. The way a little boy should be.There are very very few children who stick out in my mind - certainly none that I don't even really know. Callam is the exception just because he was so precious.

On Thursday Callam was hit by a car.

I've cried much today for Callam and for his parents. The world is poorer place without Callam in it. I have only an inkling of what his parents must be going through and their pain. I am so so sad for them. For the hole that is now in their lives. For the journey that they must now begin. The journey of life after Callam. It really is not fair, is it? Why him? But the whys and the what ifs are dangerous... They'll drive you mad.

This week has been tough. I've felt a little of that drowning feeling, that creeping depression threatening to set in. The Nothingness, like in Never-ending Story. I just miss my daughter. I miss her and I want things to be different, but they aren't. Nothing can change the fact that she's gone. I don't know why it's hit me harder this week.. last night was the first I've cried that wracking sob cry in a while. I've avoided it, I suppose. Tried to push it away ("I need to be in a good place right now, can't give in to this").

I wish Callam's parents didn't have to be on this road. It's a horrible road. I wish none of us had to be on it. Yes, time helps and you learn to breath again and you start to see that there is still joy and beauty and hope and love in this life, but always present is that loss. That grief. The way it should be but isn't.

Please pray for them, his parents and his older brother. They are in agony.

Pregnancy after loss

In the weeks after Sophia died I scoured the net for information on stillbirth, all the causes, the stats, etc etc. I devoured the stories of people who had gone through such a loss and somehow survived it, and better yet, those who went on to have other children. I remember one night reading the story of Julie who lost a son to placental abruption and a year later lost another son the same way. The night I read that story I cracked. The Band was out and our quite nice wine selection beckoned. It was me, The Guv, a bottle (or two) of wine, a bunch of photos and one of Sophia's teddys flopped on the couch listening to my depro music playlist and wailing. The thought, the reality that this can happen again was too much for me. It is unbearable.

Pregnancy after loss is no simple matter. I think the cause of the loss could make a difference, to some extent, as would the timing of the loss. So, for example, if you miscarried at 10 weeks you'd probably be most anxious til then, and after the 10 week mark you may be able to relax a little. But so many of us lose our babies at term. Then there is no relaxing.

Today I am 29 weeks pregnant.7 weeks to go until The Kernel makes her way into the fresh air. This has been the most emotionally exhausting time of my life. Living in fear is one hell of a thing.

Last night I had my now all-too-familiar recurring nightmare. The one where I dream that I go to the bathroom and there's blood. I've lost count of how many times that dream has recurred. But every time it is so, so real. So vivid. In the dream I knew full well that I had 7 weeks to go. I knew when last I had felt baby kick. And then somewhere along the line I woke myself up and the relief flooded in. Relief mixed with nausea.

I'm having plenty nightmares lately. Not all baby-related. But that one, because it is so so real and because I have already lived it out in real life and, obviously, because it is the reenactment of my worst fear, is the worst.

I wouldn't trade this pregnancy for anything in the world. I am grateful beyond words for the opportunity to be a mom to another little girl. I thank God for every kick. I am all too aware that there are thousands or perhaps millions of women who'd give anything at all to be pregnant right now. That all being said, this is the toughest thing I've ever done.

The other day I was stuck in a meeting and baby wasn't moving. The meeting dragged on and on and nothing. Eventually I was downright dizzy with fear. You start playing out scenarios in your head:
What would I literally do? Do you wait a little longer? Do you phone the gynae? Do you head straight to the nearest hospital?

By the time she finally kicked again I was overs. Sat in my office and bawled. Relief, exhaustion, fear.

In 7 weeks time I wonder what'll happen. Will I just fall asleep after she's born out of sheer exhausted relief of being able to breathe again for the first time in 8 months? Or will this fear continue. Will I stare at her all day long. Checking to see that she's breathing.

I long for the day that I'm no longer defined by loss, failure, tragedy - even if only in my own mind. For the day that it feels like The Kernel has always been around and we can hardly imagine a time that she wasn't there.

Shoh... as I wrote the above paragraph I started writing "Sophia" before changing it to The Kernel.
That is the other part of all this, of course. The grieving which has to some extent been put on hold. ("Must be in a good head space"). That will also flood back with a vengeance at some point.

I miss her.

Please pray for this little one. She is small for her age... nothing to worry about, and within a healthy growth curve, but obviously I am worried anyway.

Mother's Day

You know that movie "I hate Valentine's Day"? Well the title was in my head all of Sunday. I think that I might just hate Mother's Day.

Laaast Mother's Day I was pregnant with Sophia and it was my first Mother's Day. It was exciting - I knew that come 2010 I'd be receiving a gift allegedly from my firstborn (but of course, actually from TheBand). I'd have that maternal glow. I'd probably be wearing a flannel nightgown and dodgy manky pale blue slippers. Hell, perhaps I'd even own some floral clothing. But no. I am not that person. I am basically physically the same person I was a year ago: pregnant. Wearing maternity jeans and my ol' faithful K-way fleece and Tsonga boots. Not the picture of motherhood. Of course internally I am a very different, rather scarred person.

I arrived at church and someone at the door was giving out gift vouchers to the moms. She hesitated and looked awkward not knowing what to do so I grabbed one and walked in.

TheBand was hosting the meeting and so I was sitting up front. They asked all the moms to stand. CRINGE. So what do you do? Do you stand and feel a gazillion pairs of sympathetic eyes boring into your back? or do you stay seated, denying your daughters? With gritted teeth I stood. I wanted to scream out that I'm not merely standing coz I'm pregnant, I'm standing coz I'm a mom of two! You don't become a mom when you nurse your child, you are a mom from the time she's conceived. You start caring for her from that moment - both consciously and unconsciously. My whole attitude to my body and my life completely changed when I fell pregnant. I began to consider the fact that it's not just me and I need to look out for my little one. Part of your heart is forever with that child, even if you aren't.

I got an sms from a friend "to a very special mommy-to-be" Her heart was right, of course it was, but I wanted to throw the phone against the wall. I'm not a future mom. I have two daughters. I am Sophia's mom and even if I wasn't pregnant right now I hope I would have had the guts to stand up. Even if I wasn't pregnant right now I'd consider this my second Mother's Day.

It's a stupid hallmark tradition, right? But it's also an opportunity for kids to honour their moms. I wonder how I'll feel come Mother's Day 2011. I think Mother's Day is always going to hold sadness for me. It's always going to remind me of loss.

After the service I grabbed a friend who recently miscarried - her first pregnancy - and I gave her that voucher and a big hug. She teared up. She too, is a mom. No one else will acknowledge that, probably, but she is.

Changing seasons

Work is giving me hassles. Originally they seemed quite flexible. Now they are being far less flexible than they were last time I went down this road... It's a complex and probably rather boring story but suffice it to say that I am now in a position where I have to consider my options:

1. Do I agree to what they are proposing: From January be in the office everyday.
Bearing in mind that The Kernel will only be 5 months old - and a premmie at that. That I want to be breastfeeding and that they are moving the offices... likely to be a 2 hour drive in traffic. Last time I was pregnant the offices were round the corner, I was expecting a full term baby and they were happy for me to work from home. Now I have lost a child, I am having a premmie and THEY are moving the offices far away and they suddenly aren't happy for this arrangement. Doesn't seem very fair to me.
Clearly option 1 is no option at all. There is simply no way. It's a win for them and a loss for me.

2. Request unpaid leave for a few months which sucks for me financially, but sucks even more for them: the January - April period is our busiest period with the Earth Hour campaign. I'm integral in that so it would really place them in a crap position too. But it does mean that I keep my job.
Still it seems to me like a lose - lose.

3. Push back. Show them the lack of logic in their proposal. Reiterate my request but insist that broader management (and not just one person) makes the call - the same broader management who were quite happy with this proposal last time.
Obviously this is the logical thing to do but I can't tell you how peeved I am that I have to now fight this fight. 5 weeks before I'm due to go on leave. I brought this up months ago and they wait til just before I leave to make decisions. I certainly do not need to be stressed right now.

4. Resign. Seize the day. Live my dreams. Take a risk.
Obviously this is very appealing, but the timing is bad. Give me a year and then sure, I'm there! But right now? I don't want to be worrying about finances right now. I don't think I should have to! Also I fear part of my motivation in such an action would be to spite them which is not a good reason to make a life decision.

UGH.

Then I read this:
"I was at gym yesterday and saw a dynamic looking woman sitting in the coffee shop entertaining her lively 12 month old baby. I looked at this woman and thought to myself that she was probably a great career woman only 14 months ago and that her skills were probably missed and wasted on sitting idly in a coffee shop talking to a toddler. A thought came to me of how there is all this latent expertise and dynamic energy all over the world in women who are now ‘only’ looking after babies – what a waste!

As all this was passing through my mind a bigger thought hit me. It actually screamed at me in anger: “You mislead idiot – she is doing the most important job in the world! She is not wiping up spilt milkshake, talking baby talk and telling nursery rhymes – No, she is growing a future leader, another generation of mothers, a little life who may one day lead a corporation. She is passing on morals, values and ethics. She is saving the world when she talks to her little one about waste and litter. She is teaching a small mind to think big and be creative. She is not wasting her time and expertise – not at all.”

I realized that there truly is not a more important job she could be doing right now. She is in good company – along with millions of other women who are probably feeling ill equipped for the most important job they have ever done. She probably feels grossly undervalued and may have moments of frustration that she can’t follow her career because she is doing all these ‘mindless’ mothering tasks. But really she is amazing. She is doing the most important job in the world for no thanks at all.

I looked back and saw her little one clamber onto her lap and give her an open mouthed, sloppy kiss and cuddle. She beamed. She lived in that moment – what a clever dynamic woman – a mother."

Sounds great and I need to keep reading it, but the bottom line is I do need to be earning a salary.

SIGH.

Any great pearls of wisdom?

Sleepless nights

Last night I was woken by 1 pee, 2 phone calls (I KNOW!!! SERIOUSLY!!!!) and the husband having some kind of asthma attack. Between my awake and asleepness I kept waiting to feel The Kernel move and nada. So I was anxious in that half dream half awake eery way. Eventually I psyched myself up to go use the Doppler. I say psyched myself up because (and yes, I realise it defeats the purpose) I hate using it unless I have just recently felt a kick.

The worst moment of my life was that moment in the hospital where they were searching for the heartbeat. Time stretched to infinity as they kept repositioning the probe thing to no avail. It haunts my dreams.

Eventually I got up. Heart pounding in my ears and went to sit in the nursery. I sat in the rocking chair where one day soon I will nurse The Kernel. Whipped up the nightie, splotched on the gel, held my breath and positioned the Doppler. Nauseating few seconds where it picked up my heartbeat and then dooh-dooh-dooh-dooh-dooh-dooh-dooh-dooh-dooh. Healthy 147bpm. Relief.

This morning I feel like I've been run over by a truck. I feel on the verge of tears. I'm so tired of fear. So tired of sadness. So tired of that sick nauseous feeling when you are left to simply wait and see if your life is about to end all over again. Most days The Kernel kicks plenty and it's reassurance and bliss, but every now and then when she's quiet I am called to face my gravest fears all over again.

I miss Sophia. I miss her so much. In some ways I think that The Kernel is buffering some of the grief. I can't really face things fully now - I need to be in a strong and healthy space. I fear that I will be overwhelmed with grief when The Kernel is finally born and some of this fear abates. It's kind of inevitable. On one hand I will be rejoicing in that purest, most ecstatic moment of holding my baby girl, hearing her cry, watching her watch me, having the opportunity to mother her at long long last, and on the other I will be grieving all that I never got to do with Sophia. The moments that were taken from us.

Clearly today I am not in a good place. I promise to get much sleep this weekend and to be a bit stronger next week.

It's my blog and I'll vent if I want to

Ok well at least I'm not a puddle. Actually, I'm more p'd off than anything else.It annoys me (esp when I'm riddled with flu) to be told that u can only get sick if 
your mind is not in the right place. Shoh. I guess that makes Stephen Hawking prettydumb then!? Ugh. 

Anyway, that's all fine, illogical (what with microbiology and all, but whatever). 
What really gets me is that belief that if something bad happens to you it is 
because there is a lesson for you to learn. If the same thing keeps happening to 
you it is because you are not learning your lesson. 

Can I just put it out there what my thoughts are when hearing something like this? 
Ok I will

What self righteous, short sighted crap. How quickly such a belief would change 
should you yourself ever face true sorrow. 

I wonder what lesson, then, I had to learn by losing my daughter. Or does this belief indicate that Sophia had a lesson to learn? I wonder what lesson would so flippantly be ascribed to those suffering the horror of multiple miscarriages 
or the heart wrenching pain of infertility. What of those who simply can not 
overcome cancer? 

It's just such a smug view and one that is so easy to hold when life is peachy for 
you and you are healthy, but certainly not one I believe that anyone who has faced 
tragedy could possibly concur with. 

I don't believe there is a simple "here's why it happened" answer. I really dont 
sit too often with the whys. I believe firstly that God never wanted Sophia to die, or for me to suffer. I don't think God is a sadist who sits up there with a 
proverbial magnifying glass frying us like ants to teach us lessons. 

I believe we live in a fallen world where bad things happen. Yes, God is sovereign and He allows them to happen, but I don't believe He delights in them. 
I believe God's heart breaks to see my sorrow. I believe that He uses all 
sorrows though.

I believe that when I get to heaven and am reunited with Sophia I will be
in a place where I will have the grace to bear all the why's. I believe that there may be a million good things that come from sophia's death - that God can use it in many ways in many different lives, but this side of heaven I don't have the grace to know them - until i am with her they could never be enough for me. And sure, among those many reasons the Band and I may have had some lessons to learn, but these lessons, whatever they may be are not the simple and sole reason for my daughter's death.  

That would imply that people who live through hard lives do so because they have lessons to learn. well what of those real shmucks who have a smooth time of it? I guess they need to be reincarnated to learn their lessons.

And anyway, what's the point of all these supposed lessons? Greater consciousness or some such thing? If it's about lessons and God simply punishes us until we get it right than He should have just created us enlightened and saved He and us both the trouble. No, I believe that God created us for relationship with Him. We live in a fallen world and He never promised us a smooth ride, but He did promise to never leave us or forsake us. He does promise us hope and a future. He is a loving God.    

The wedding

Thanks for all your support following my little meltdown on Friday night. It really helped seeing as I didn't have the... what's the word? The 'altogetherness' (or something) to actually share it with anyone face to face.

The wedding, in the end, was great. Sometimes in this grieving thing you have to be strong enough to set your own tone... some days this is possible and some days it is not. But Saturday it was. Some people asked "how's your lighty doing? You were pregnant last I saw you" and similar such questions and I told them, frankly, what had happened. Others knew and asked questions and I answered and steered the conversation elsewhere, but somehow I managed to be normal and this seemed to allow them to treat me as such. (*as any other grievers will know this is not a simple thing that you can do at will, but every now and then you can and it's a relief to feel strong enough*)

Anyway, one thing I have noticed, which I found really interesting (in a objective, looking in at my experience from the outside type of way) is that men seem mostly a whole lot more comfortable around me and the topic than woman. Many woman are incredibly awkward and yet men will even just bring it up out the blue. Interesting.

So one guy who I haven't seen in years, so much so that I didn't actually even recognise him, started talking to me. He said something along the lines of "So I know about what happened and I just want you to know that there are so so many people around the world but certainly in East London praying for you. My prayer group has been praying for you since the day it happened."

Hectic, hey?

Turns out he can really relate to that vulnerable feeling of knowing you're the subject of converation and pity. He was diagnosed with testicular cancer and given 6 months to live (in 2008 - he is now in remission). He said it got to a point where he just wanted to actually move somewhere else because he couldn't bear the looks that he got all the time (you know: the head tilt or worse, the eye avoidance). But he said his wife gave him good perspective: she said that "yes, a lot of people are thinking about you, but even if just a fraction of those people are praying for you, well, then it's worth it, isn't it?"

I like that. She's right.

I am also quite interested at the evolution of my process. I know that many have lamented the reactions of other people and their awkwardness around us ('us' being those who've lost children). And up to this weekend it had actually never really bothered me. I wonder if that's one of the stages of this thing. Because this feeling of vulnerability in relation to others is certainly quite new to me.

This weekend I will be in East London and my mom wants me to go to church with her. I am dreading it. I know all those people have prayed for me, but now that I am showing they will all be looking at me with concern and saying "look after yourself" etc etc. Which is perfectly normal but it is INTENSE!

There was a conversation in the work kitchen a short while ago... a friend said something about me having an internal thermostat and the other people were like "Oh! so are you??" type of thing. Everyone is very happy etc etc but then came the inevitable stern finger wag and the "Jy moet rerig na jouself nou sorg. Jy moet aseblief versigtig wees!" (You must really look after yourself. You must please be careful!)

I KNOW!!!!!!!!! I KNOW THAT!!!! please please for the love of all things sacred PLEASE don't assume that I would be anything other than downright frikken paranoid! I haven't had a sip of alcohol, not a sip. Not a sip of coffee or tea. Not a sniff of real sushi. Nothing. I shout at drivers when I'm the passenger to ensure that they drive at snail's pace over speed bumps. SPEED BUMPS!! BUT(!!!) I didn't cause Sophia's death and I couldn't have prevented it and do you not realise that this warning implies exactly that to me??

Fear not, I smiled at the nice aunty and nodded. I didn't scream out the above paragraph. I was restrained. She means well. Course she does. But the above paragraph is what I screamed inside my head.

Stripped naked

I am in Riebeek Kasteel for my brothers wedding. The wedding is tomorrow and tonight we all had snacks and drinks at a nearby restaurant. I had no idea how rough it was going to be for me. 

I saw some people for the first time since Sophia and many people for the first time since i've been pregnant again. It has been horrible. 

Everyone is, of course, very nice, but it's the same look, the same concerned questions and the same false self-assurances over and over. 

Concerned frown, head tilt, "and so? everything going ok with this little one? You going for lots of scans? What's the doc say?" as if assuring themselves that it will be fine. THERE IS NOTHING I COULD HAVE DONE THEN AND THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO NOW. 

People who I've known of perhaps, but have only met tonight for the first time all seem to know. I can see it in the way they look at me, in the things they say or don't say. I am, as my boss's wife so tactlessly put it, "that woman whose baby was born at 38 weeks... Dead." I can't make the casual chat with strangers that is required at these sort of things. How can I when I am snowed under by that unspoken title? How can I be frivolous and chatty and cheerful and happy when I know that from the corner of thir eyes they are watching and wondering about me and how I'm doing and what the story is. 

I feel like my heart (which in real life I keep safely and firmly tucked away far from all but the most ardent seeker) has been plopped out on display for a room of family, family friends and strangers. It is horrible. By the time I eventually feigned tiredness and snuck out I could hardly breathe. I am lying here feeling sickened and dreading more of this tomorrow. 

Sophia is my daughter. My mourning her feels so personal, so private that I have even stopped sharing it on this blog. Tonight it felt like something of that was put on display. Of course it wasn't overtly, but it felt that way and maybe I feel robbed by that. I have very little of Sophia but my grief. It is a precious thing and never to be shared flippantly. 

The kicker

Yesterday, as often happens, I suddenly realised I hadn't felt much movement. I was stuck in a brutal meeting and there was no escape. My heart was beating faster. I could no longer concentrate on the boring budgeting and then...finally she seemed to wake up and began kicking.

This is just how it is. It is exhausting feeling fear and worry so often. On the other hand, my overriding confidence freaks me out too. The truth is I am now expecting a healthy little baby girl come 9 July. I've always been an optimist, always expected good things. I'm overconfident by nature. And all these traits, which I thought were destroyed in September, have crept back with each milestone, each scan, even each kick. It scares me. There is no real comfort in "It's all going to be fine". We simply don't know. There's no sense in pretending we do. That's just a platitude, isn't it? And yet I can't help hoping. Guarding my heart has gone out the window. You can not guard your heart from your own child. Or at least I can't. I'm invested. If something were to happen again I really would not want to live. That is the truth. I'm not saying I'd top myself... don't worry. I would never do that. But my will to live, my joy, my hope, would be crushed.

A friend whose son was also stillborn in September recently became pregnant and over Easter weekend she miscarried. It's not fair. The stillbirth and the miscarriage aren't even related. It is simply two chance occurences. I can't even begin to process what she must be feeling. It sickens me. It hurts me.

Almost as if to compensate for giving me a fright yesterday, last night The Kernel kicked good and proper so that The Band could feel her for the first time.

Tomorrow we have a very big scan. It costs a packet and is at the Fetal Assessment Clinic in Cape Town. They will look indepth into all the usual things that the 23/24 week scan ussually assesses but in my case they will be specifically trying to analyse the placenta, how it is growing, blood flow to and from, etc. I'm quite nervous. I would almost even say that I am a little self-conscious or ashamed or something (not the right words) of my placenta. I know, ludicrous. Of course it is. But it is a part of me and happens to be the part that failed me dismally last time. Placenta's are freaky things. Not pretty at all. But they are VITAL and I really need this placenta to be healthy. So, if it's not too gross, please pray for this placenta :) The Kernel needs it!!!

#Pray4ZA

pugh.

I started to write a summary of what's been going on in SA and a brief history of Malema's craziness but it was making me too tense and so I am giving up on it.

Here is the latest: the video in which he resorts (as usual) to inane racism, the victim this time is a BBC journalist. Oh the shame. Every journalist should have stood and left in solidarity with him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpIcwctC7nQ

Please be praying for this country, with all that is going on we are in the most delicate place we've been in for 16 years.

To my gran

Dear Noon

It has been so so long since I’ve written to you and this is the first time I’ve typed to you, I’m sure.

How are things? What is your news? And now you really can’t say nothing!

I guess you already know the news from this side. Or maybe you don’t? In many ways I hope you don’t. Too much sadness. When you died so suddenly, just days before I was due to see you again, I felt robbed. I felt robbed that I never told you my plan to name my child after you. I felt robbed that I never got to share my pregnancy with you, but now I see God’s wisdom in it all. Sophia’s death would have broken your heart. My heartbreak would have been excrutiating for you and now I am thankful that you never had to know of it. I’m grateful too that I never told you about my name plans, because they changed when she died. I couldn’t have both Sydney-Ellas in heaven with me still here.

I’m glad you never knew of Pierre’s his awful death. That would have hurt you so much and I’m so so glad that Phoebe outlived you. In some ways her death would have been the hardest of all for you – others may not understand that, but I do. I really do.

Today marks 7 months since my little girl was born and today I miss you so so much. I think in some ways I delayed some of my mourning your death, knowing I would have to deal with it once Sophia was born – I had so wanted you at her birth and it would be bitter-sweet without you, but then, of course, her birth was marked with tragedy and I’ve mourned ever since.

At the end of the month we are all going to be in Kei Mouth and when I think about it my heart always lifts in excitement, but then it drops again when I realise that neither you nor Phoebe will be there. It just will never be the same. The last time I was there, we had a baby shower for Sophia. Now even she will not be with me.

I wonder what things are like where you are. I believe that you, Sophia and Phoebe are together – my three girls. WOW what a reunion it will be – I long for that day.

Don’t get me wrong Noon, and please don’t worry too much. There is still much joy in this life. Stef, as you know, is an incredible man. My best friend and a source of joy and strength. Also this little one on board – I fall more in love with her with every little kick and nudge.

It’s amazing how different the character of two babies can seems – even in the womb. In some ways this baby seems more shy, quieter than Sophia. With Sophia I think she was like you and I – an adventurous, feminine tomboy. She would have climbed trees and journeyed to Antarctica.

This little one, I suspect, will be a gentle lady.

Noon, one day I’d love to bring both my girls to lunch with you. You were intent on making me a lady (you! Who declared that many foods simply tasted better when eaten with your hands!). We’d go to The Quarter Deck – The height of elegance in East London – and we’d have cloth napkins on our laps, a good glass of white, those incredible hot rolls with garlic butter. You’d order the sole and finish off with a cup of coffee. I don’t remember what I ate.

I wonder if you know what’s happening here? Mostly I don’t mind if you don’t know. You and Sophia – I don’t want you to be sad for me. I really don’t want that. I don’t want you worrying about me. But here is some stuff that you would want to know:

Firstly Mark has finally moved back to South Africa! You wished for this day for years and years and years and finally it has come. Two weeks from today he is due to be married to a girl named Sara. Imagine – you would have had to stop calling him Marky Boo – that was the deal, remember? You were allowed to call him Marky Boo until he was married. (Who knew it would take him so long! )

And so Matt and his new wife – Karen (you knew her) – will be in the country as well and the whole family will be together in the Cape. If you were here you’d have bought your outfit about 6 months ago when they first got engaged! You would be SO excited. You would come stay at our house for a bit and would absolutely proud of it and of me and you’d come with to my next scan and would DEFINITELY cry – “Happy tears” you would assure me.

But no, you are where you should be, surrounded by so much love and so many who are so precious to you. I am so grateful for the years I had with you – they must have been such difficult years for you – almost 20 years after your husband’s death – and yet you never complained, never lost your joie de vivre, your sense of adventure, your giving spirit. I don’t know how you maintained such grace, but you did.

Please give Sophia an extra big hug for me today. I long for her in a way that words could never really touch on. I am so grateful you were there to meet her and that Phoebe is there too to watch over both of you.

I love you Noon, God bless, love me

Say what??

Fellow twitterbugs will know this already but this is a conversation that happened yesterday.

Sitting outside for lunch yesterday and a colleague - who is a little strange - and she asks if I have any kids. I briefly explain that I lost a child last year, but that I am now 5 months pregnant. She responds with sympathy to the loss and then says....wait for it..... "So have you decided if you are going to keep this one?"

SAY WHAT?

Ok so abortion is legal in SA. Since 1997 abortion, or the ever euphimistic "termination of pregnancy" has been pretty much legal up to 20 weeks. There seems to be a belief that the kindest thing to do is to abort if you don't want / can't afford a child. Some believe that thousands of SA orphanages are filled with kids wishing for families. Actually, that's not entirely accurate. If, for example, you were wanting to adopt a white kid in SA you would have to wait 5 - 8 years. White women in this country abort. Now don't get me wrong: we have orphanages, but I'd guesstimate that the majority of kids in these homes are Aids orphans or else have been removed from abusive / unhealthy situations. This last sentence is my impression and I stand to be corrected but I think it's true.

I am close to a few people who are adopted and I also have friends with adopted children. I can't see that any of these people believe it would have been kinder to have been killed in utero than to live a good life with people who have actually chosen them. Ok, granted, I am perhaps simplifying the situation quite a lot, but it's just that abortion has always been a heartbreaking thing to me and NOW! WOW! now I see those disgusting quickie "same day abortion" signs on Cape Town street poles and it makes me feel ill. There are so so many of us who would give anything for our child to live and all the while people are "terminating" pregnancies.

Anyway, of course abortion is its own entire debate and people will inevitably say "yes, but what if this and what if that". But what if, as I suspect, most abortions don't fall into the incest, rape, etc categories. They simply fall into the "Oh ****, that's not what I had planned!" category.

Back to the lunchtime conversation. WHY ON EARTH would a woman - who is a mother herself - EVER even legitimise a person like me - earning a good salary, married, fairly established - having an abortion?
I mean lets not even go near the fact that I've lost a child fullterm on top of it. But how on earth could it possibly be ok in her mind for me to consider abortion?

I thought about it a bit and realised the reason... this lady is particularly militant when it comes to feminism. A few examples: don't dare say "spokesman" or the "average guy on the street" or refer to people as "man" (like as in "fellow man"). It's all sexist in her eyes. I have a t-shirt that says "the incredible shopping with reusable bags woman" and it really upsets her! ("It's not like shopping is a woman's job!" nope... but I am a woman?!)
Anyway, you get the message. And so the only thing that makes sense to me is that her saying that is her just making the point that I do, in fact, have a choice.

It's got to be that, surely?

Yes, I have a choice. It's called condoms, the pill, abstinence, whatever. A middle income, 27 year old, married woman with a perfectly healthy baby on board choosing to have an abortion is not CHOICE, it's sick. If that's women's lib you can count me out.

(Besides at this stage I really need my bra and ain't nobody gonna be burning it!!)

Choosing bitterness or not

This weekend has given me some food for thought (ok, if I'm honest plenty of food for consumption as well - that appetite has kicked in!). Actually both an incident that happened this weekend and one that happened last week. What am I on about?

Incident 1: The hospital
Last week I (very bravely) went to visit a friend in hospital after her baby girl had been born. It was... easier and harder than I thought. The things you expect to be sore aren't so bad, but as always, it's the things you don't expect: the smell of the hospital, the sight of little ones fighting for their lives in the NICU. Anyway we were there past visiting hours and a nurse came in with definite gestapo tendencies informing us that visiting hours are now over and we are expected to leave promptly. We did (with a subtle Heil Hitler thrown in when she wasnt looking) and I guess when we left the room our friends mentioned to her that they'd specifically invited us at a time when there wouldnt be other visitors because of what we'd been through.

We were nearly out the maternity ward when she caught up to us. Her entire countenance had changed. She came to tell me that she too had lost a baby - stillborn at 32 weeks. We chatted for a bit, commiserated, empathised and parted as friends. You see the thing is that when you share that kind of common ground with someone all else fades a way. She was no longer gestapo nurse and I was no longer rule breaking visitor. We were both in The Club. The Club that no one ever wants to be a part of, but when you are you are dam grateful that you're not alone. Anyway, I am sure that when I am back in July she will be my fiercest supporter.


Incident 2: Earth Hour
So Saturday night saw the culmination of many months of hard work. There was basically a core team of 5 of us working to ensure that Earth Hour happened in SA. My role was all the media relations stuff and considering that our media monitoring service has picked up 200 media hits just in the last 2 days you can imagine it's been pretty busy.

Anyway, typically, I digress!
So Saturday night I was at the Earth Hour media function in CT. My boss's wife was there as well. Chat chat chat, polite stuff etc. Until.... "Oh yes, you're the one whose baby was born at 38 weeks.... Dead."

Nice.

What the hell do you say to that? "Yep, that's me! I'm that one!"??? Felt like I'd been kicked in the throat.
However, she went on to say that her first husband was killed when she was 5 months pregnant with her first child. When the child was born there were complications and 10 days later her first child died.

I felt sick. I can not even begin to imagine having your life snatched from you like that - in 4 months you lose your husband and your child. Horrific.

The thing is though that I've always wondered about this lady. There is a hardness about her. A bitterness. Her mouth turns down. I know that's an arb thing to say, but it is true both physcially and metaphorically. I guess when she told me her story - coldly, detachedly (<== is that a word?), bluntly, I think she started to make a lot more sense to me.

She is remarried now - for more than 15 years and she has two daughters, but you can see the bitterness on her face, hear it in her words and in the way she speaks them and feel it in her manner.
I don't want that to be me. I don't want to carry bitterness like a shield. Am I wounded? absolutely! Is that loss a part of me? Always. But not only LOSS, also the joy of the time we did have with Sophia and the anticipation of the eternity we'll spend with her. Also the gratitude for the life I have - my husband, my family, my friends, my health and of course The Kernel on her way.

Today I wrote to a friend that I was proud of her. It's something that has always annoyed me when people have said it of me and this situation. What's there to be proud of? the fact that I'm surviving? That I get dressed and brush my teeth everyday? That's not an achievement, it's barely even a choice. But I realised that actually there is something to be proud of, or at least glad about: I am proud of her because despite losing the love of her life she still loves life. Despite suffering the most unfair loss, she is not bitter. And I guess I think and I hope that (for the most part, at least) I can say the same of myself.

21 weeks

All seems to be going well. I had a scan on Thursday and The Kernel is healthy. We are now confirmed for 9 July - we will be doing the induction that day, on the 36 week mark. Hoping and praying that the induction works so I don't have to have a caesar. **104 sleeps til The Kernel arrives**

Else all fine. Still feeling good - lots of waking up in the middle of the night, but aside from that I'm ok.

Wow this really is a boring post. Sorry... work has been frantic in the lead up to Earth Hour tonight which myself and about 4 colleagues have organised in South Africa. I do all the media side of things and so it has been contant interviews and press releases and sorting out footage and photos and and and.
I'll be VERY glad when it's done and everything is a little calmer!

In just over 2 months I'll be on maternity leave and in just over 3 months I'll be holding my baby at last. yay

Yep, I've joined the Desktop Activists #SpeakZA

Enough with the bullying, ANC Youth League, we've all had enough.

If you'd like to echo these sentiments (which are in turn being echoed by me) - please do your own version of this post and add your name to the blog roll below. (Just cut and paste the post and blogroll below and then add your own link at the bottom. Like a chain letter, only cooler. :) Then tweet/Facebook about it too.

The hash tag is #SpeakZA

The post we are sharing is:

Last week, shocking revelations concerning the activities of the ANC Youth League spokesperson Nyiko Floyd Shivambu came to the fore. According to a letter published in various news outlets, a complaint was laid by 19 political journalists with the Secretary General of the ANC, against Shivambu. This complaint letter detailed attempts by Shivambu to leak a dossier to certain journalists, purporting to expose the money laundering practices of Dumisani Lubisi, a journalist at the City Press. The letter also detailed the intimidation that followed when these journalists refused to publish these revelations.

We condemn in the strongest possible terms the reprisals against journalists by Shivambu. His actions constitute a blatant attack on media freedom and a grave infringement on Constitutional rights. It is a disturbing step towards dictatorial rule in South Africa. We call on the ANC and the ANC Youth League to distance themselves from the actions of Shivambu. The media have, time and again, been a vital democratic safeguard by exposing the actions of individuals who have abused their positions of power for personal and political gain.

The press have played a vital role in the liberation struggle, operating under difficult and often dangerous conditions to document some of the most crucial moments in the struggle against apartheid. It is therefore distressing to note that certain people within the ruling party are willing to maliciously target journalists by invading their privacy and threatening their colleagues in a bid to silence them in their legitimate work.

We also note the breathtaking hubris displayed by Shivambu and the ANC Youth League President Julius Malema in their response to the letter of complaint. Shivambu and Malema clearly have no respect for the media and the rights afforded to the media by the Constitution of South Africa. Such a response serves only to reinforce the position that the motive for leaking the so-called dossier was not a legitimate concern, but an insolent effort to intimidate and bully a journalist who had exposed embarrassing information about the Youth League President.  

We urge the ANC as a whole to reaffirm its commitment to media freedom and other Constitutional rights we enjoy as a country.

Blog Roll:
http://bridesmaid-to-be.blogspot.com 
http://thoughtleader.co.za/siphohlongwane
http://rwrant.co.za
http://vocfm.co.za/blogs/munadia/
http://vocfm.co.za/blogs/shafiqmorton/
http://blogs.news24.com/needpoint
http://capetowngirl.co.za
http://thoughtleader.co.za/sentletsediakanyo
http://thoughtleader.co.za/davidjsmith
http://letterdash.com/one-eye-only
http://boyuninterrupted.blogspot.com
http://amandasevasti.com
http://blog.empyrean.co.za/
http://letterdash.com/brencro
http://6000.co.za
http://chrisroper.co.za
http://pieftw.com
http://hamishpillay.wordpress.com
http://memoirs4kimya.blogspot.com
http://thoughtleader.co.za/azadessa
http://watkykjy.co.za
http://fredhatman.co.za
http://thelifeanddeathchronicles.blogspot.com/
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/common-dialogue/
http://clivesimpkins.blogs.com/
http://mashadutoit.wordpress.com
http://nicharalambous.com
http://sarocks.co.za
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/stompies/
http://helenmoffett.book.co.za/blog/
http://01universe.blogspot.com
http://groundwork.worpress.com
http://iwrotethisforyou.me
http://fionasnyckers.book.co.za
http://attentiontodetail.wordpress.com
http://blogs.women24.com/editor
http://www.missmillib.blogspot.com
http://snowgoose.co.za
http://dreamfoundry.co.za
http://www.vanoodle.blogspot.com
http://www.exmi.co.za
http://cat-dubai.blogspot.com
http://alistairfairweather.com
http://www.zanedickens.com
http://www.nickhuntdavis.com
http://guysa.blogspot.com
http://book.co.za
http://baldy.co.za
http://skinnylaminx.com
http://blogs.african-writing.com/zukiswa
http://www.mielie.wordpress.com
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/gatherer/
http://thoughtleader.co.za/sarahbritten
http://stii.co.za
http://blogs.news24.com/FSB_AP
http://twistedkoeksuster.blogspot.com
http://whensmokegetsinyoureyes.blogspot.com/
http://trinklebean.wordpress.com
http://commentry.wordpress.com/
http://matthewbuckland.com
http://blogs.news24.com/colour-me-fran
http://gormendizer.co.za
http://helenmoffett.book.co.za/blog/
http://www.harassedmom.co.za
http://ravingfans.co.za
http://khadijapatel.co.za
http://simon.co.za/speakza
http://gnatj.com
http://moralfibre.co.za
http://www.exmi.co.za
http://fsi.org.za/

Progress...

I haven't been blogging much coz work has been keeping me crazily busy - between planning for Earth Hour and trying (with success - woohoo) to stop the mining in the winelands it has been manic.

I don't have too much news. Last weekend The Band and I went shopping for a carpet for the nursery at Mat's Carpets - meh he he.

The carpet arrived on Tuesday and it is gorgeous. We splashed out and got a really soft one - the only carpet in the whole house (the rest being wooden and washed stone/cement?). It is soooo soft. The Band and I lie on it frequently - SO NICE. It transforms the room completely. The Band has also moved the furniture back in so it is starting to look gorgeous. Pics soon, but still a bit to be done!

The Parental Units arrived last night. My dad is cycling the Argus on Sunday.

As for movement... I have maybe felt teeeeeeeeeeeeensy movements every other day but they are SO small. Hoping they get much bigger soon! And that's about it.

A successful peptalk

The heat. The infernal heat. Generally I can't bear grumpy people. But if there is one thing that makes me grumpy it is this endless heatwave we're having. Temperatures in the 40s. THE FORTIES! Today is meant to be 43 in the winelands. Apparently if you're pregnant you're about 2 degrees hotter! The sad thing is that on weekends it actually occurs to me that I'd rather be at work with aircon than at home without. That is how bad it is. (To all readers in Europe freezing your bums off, I KNOW! But extremity is bad either way!) I showered I think 4 times (sorry planet!) and also showered the two dogs and even a VERY compliant Guv - he let me soak him and was quite grateful!!

Anyway, The Band and I were plonked on the bed yesterday afternoon with two fans going and I decided to give The Kernel a pep talk. It went something along these lines:
"Why do you refuse to kick me? Seriously... just about anyone else would take that opportunity if it was offered to them!"
About ten minutes later, voila! She kicks! And a while after that again.

YAY.

Kernel: we're halfway there!

Today I hit the halfway mark - 18 weeks pregnant - in 18 weeks I will be induced (I'd like to add in a little disclaimer like "if all goes well" but bugger that. It's time to stop with the disclaimers, the constant fear, the provisos just in case.*)

In 18 weeks we will meet The Kernel face to face.

The sorting of the cupboard was difficult, but also good. It was difficult to decide what to keep for The Kernel, what to give away and what to treasure always as Sophia's. But it was also good. I never really got to sort through the majority of the stuff last time as we went to Plett days after the (3rd) baby shower. Much of the stuff was completely unfamiliar - don't remember it at all. In keeping with my sentiment in the paragraph above I went about ripping off tags, taking all manner of thermometers and bath mats and spoons etc etc out of their plastic packaging and placing them properly as if this cupboard is indeed going to be used for a baby (and quite soon too!). I did a big load of washing and will be packing everything in place. I'm not sure if it is the process or the timing of the process but I am starting to feel optimistic. Maybe, just maybe, it will all be fine and the Kernel will make her way into this world with a hearty cry! (hopefully hers, not mine!)

It was on the 18 week mark that I first felt Sophia's little kicks. I remember it so clearly. Lying on my back and two little taps. I sort of rubbed that spot and tap tap happened again. Hoping to feel The Kernel's movements soon.

6 months and a gift

Today marks 6 long months since you were born. If you were here now perhaps you'd be teething and starting on solids. We'd know all your habits so well and I bet we'd wonder if there was ever a time when you hadn't been part of our little family. I think the dogs would be protective of you and your dad would probably have a special something - perhaps a put on voice or a method of zerbit to make you laugh. I think I'd be so proud of you but would try not to be too obvious about it and everyone would see straight through the feeble attempts at feigned humility. I'd show you off bigtime. I think you'd have LOVED bath time. You did when you were in my belly. You also loved the singing at church.. that was your absolute favourite.

This morning I resolved to sort out your cupboard tonight. More and more is being bought for your sister by excited family and friends and your cupboard is overflowing. I need to decide what I am going to be ok with giving to your sister, what I want to give away to Bosom Buddies and what I want to set aside forever, what's yours. I guess if you were still here it might be the same and that's the way I should look at it. There would be hand-me-downs and stuff that I'd rather give away and stuff that was essentially yours. I need to not be cut up that a cupboard bursting with all your things gets minimised to a shelf. I've put off this process for six months. Leaving the cupboard mostly closed, but now and then opening it and breathing in the sweet pink smell of baby products and touching your clothing. Perhaps it's silly sentamentalism - it's certainly not like you need these things where you are, but hey, I guess the guilt proves I'm a mom! :)

Today I saw something I've never seen before...
When I held you for that all too short time in the hospital there was a moment where your little rosebud mouth fell open. A perfect baby overbite. Eyes closed as if peacefully asleep. I've often regretted not having a photo of that.
This morning I looked at your dad and I saw the same image. I'd never seen the resemblance before, but something about how he was sleeping and the expression on his face mirrored how you looked that night 6 months ago. I don't need the photo. You are etched on my heart.

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.