Changing Lanes

*Spoiler alert for LOST fans*
In a recent episode of LOST, some of the survivers are in a submarine and there is an explosion and it starts filling with water. Sun's leg is stuck. The others leave, but her husband stays to save her. They realise he can't get her unstuck. She begs him to leave, he refuses. He'd rather spend their last moments together and die together. Beautiful. Romantic. But tragic. Especially tragic coz they have a daughter who just became an orphan.

A friend of mine was raped as a teenager. Someone broke into their home - their safe place, their refuge - and raped her. She told me that after that she'd sometimes go walking late at night. Almost shaking a fist at life and daring it to throw something else bad her way.

It sounds so silly, but I can relate. After Sophia died I felt that same angry rebellion. Rather than live in fear of something happening you almost want to dare it to, to face things head on. Sure, in my case that never went much further than driving faster and without a seatbelt (yes, yes, mock me if you must) but the sentiment was there. I may have been truly reckless with myself were it not for the realisation that that would be incredibly unfair and selfish to The Band and my family.

Anyway, yesterday I left The Kernel with The Band and popped to the shops. I was interested at how cautious I was. Not simply with my own driving - I'm a safe driver by nature, but even with other cars - the situations that were out of my control. I was literally praying for my safety and protection. Not in a fearful, panicked way. Just in a simple "please keep me safe" kind of way.

My dad is like that. He takes good care of himself, exercises, watches his cholestrol, because he knows we need him. He is the glue, the stability, the anchor of our family and he recognises this and cares for himself. It is the kindest thing he can do for us. The greatest gift he can give us.

My daughter needs me. I need to be ok, to be safe, to be healthy so I can look after her and that's a good realisation and responsibility to have.

The Wunderkind

4 weeks ago today Tandia AKA The Kernel was born. I am so glad I am home, comfy on my couch typing this, rather than in a hospital bed drugged and in pain. I am so glad we've had the blessing of 4 extra weeks with her. She is an absolute delight.

The past 4 weeks have passed in something of a blur. It's strange how slowly time can pass when you're pregnant and fearful and every day you feel like you're a ticking time bomb. But now, since she is here I would happily press some sort of slow motion setting and savour these moments for longer.

The Band and I can stare at her for ages - in the same way you can be mesmerised staring at a fire. And (from my side anyway) it's not even staring at her and dreaming of everything she might become... it's simply staring at her and taking in all that she is: beauty, seriousness, contentment, wide-eyed wonder, the cutest sneezes, absolute trust.

The Band is, of course, convinced that she is a child prodigy. This is because I read somewhere that it would be a couple of months before she should be able to have enough control of her hands to find her mouth with them, but she regularly sucks her hands. He now sings the "wunderkind" song to her... "are you a little wunderkind? wunderkind! wunderkind!" (repeat infinitely) It's very cute.

She's still a teensy thing. She's weighing in at 2.7 now and still very much in her premmie clothing. I keep looking at items of newborn stuff thinking "this is small, it should fit her" and then holding it up to her and seeing that it's a good 5 - 10cm too long still.

None of the annoying horror stories have come to pass. It is very rare that we have a bad night. For the most part she wakes up once a night for a feed. Not bad going at all. There's plenty of trial and error but we really are just enjoying the journey.

Body views

After Sophia died I was left with this broken body... after giving birth you have that miff dodgy stomach for a week or two, then they'd given me stuff to stop milk production but there was still colostrum and whatnot. Plus there was the bleeding. All in all I felt this massive sense of defeat. My body depressed me. After all, my body had failed me in the worst possible way.

After Tandia's arrival things are much the same (except the milk story - my cup doth overflow!) but now I look at my body in awe. I am amazed at this little perfect person who is here safe and sound. I am amazed that I can provide for her on demand. There's a sense of triumph and gratitude now where before there was only loathing and failure.

It's a weird thing to walk with Tandia. Before, some people avoided eye contact. Others did the sympathetic, awkward head tilt. Now people, even strangers, just have massive gushy smiles when they see me. In a way I want to hide from it, but really they are admiring my little girl and that's as it should be.

And how would I look at me if I was not me? (get your heads around THAT one! :) )
I think it would have to be a mixture - sadness and gushy joy. The two aren't mutually exclusive.

Right now, as I type this, Tandia is fast asleep on the couch next to me. Teensy little dummy bobbing in and out every now and then. Squeaky little noises here and there. Head rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath. And I feel a quiet peace.

Double helix

So in about grade 10 we all learnt about the double helix structure of DNA: two parallel strands spiralling upwards with the odd ladder rung between them. Our biology teached had a model of DNA on his desk and every year on the anniversary of the discovery of DNA by Watson and Crick he'd bounce the model from left to write and sing a few lines of Happy Birthday. It was pretty special.

A double helix is where my emotions are.

I am filled with joy, gratitude and a heart set to explode from love, especially in moments like this:


When my gran died she left me a book in which she'd recorded her proud gran moments - times in my and my brothers lives that were precious memories for her. On one of the pages she writes "Every time a new grand child is born your heart swells even bigger to make space for more love. You can actually feel it happen". When I bathed Tandia last night I felt that happening.

But at the same time, running parallel to this time of unbelievable precious beauty, I'm perhaps sadder than I've been all year. Not only is this time a reminder of all I have missed with Sophia, but I think while pregnant I was so consumed with fear that there was less space for raw grief.

At church yesterday the pastor said something along the lines of "thank God for his kindness toward you" and at once the familiar lump was back in my throat. God has been indescribably kind to me (just see the pic above!) but still - in the same moment that the placenta ripped from the uterus lining, my child, my daughter, was forever ripped from this world and from me, her mom. And yes, I use the word 'ripped' because it feels that violent.

The weekends are good. I am happy when I'm around people and when TheBand is around. But many week days are not. Especially the mornings. Especially today.

Beyond the birth

How do you name a person - another living being. It's such a responsibility and going in to theatre we still hadn't decided. When they told me they were going to have to put me under, they sent The Band outside (I guess so he wouldn't have to see them shoving a pipe down my throat) - they had asked what our name options were and I had told them, with The Band outside I said to them "ok it sucks that I have to go under, but while i'm out you guys can convince The Band on the name I want!"

Apparently they did...

Her name is Tandia Ella (Tandia is pronounced "Tun-dee-uh" with the emphasis on the "dee"). He'd been concerned that Tandia was too ethnic or something, but I've loved the name for years. The two meanings I found were "much loved one" and "prayer"... fitting!!! And now of course, it's hard to imagine her as anything else.

Tandia weighed 2.43 at birth and is a teensy little thing and so so beautiful.


For the first 4 days I didn't sleep... I couldn't. I wasn't even tired. I just wanted to take it all in. I guess I was just on such a high of relief and gratitude.

It's been great to be home... we've had family til tonight so it has been busy, and I'm looking forward to redefining normal now that it's just us.

We're pretty much doing all the "wrong" things in terms of breastfeeding (kind of going with whatever's comfortable rather than the specific positioning the nurses encourage) and sleep - my best is to sleep with her on my chest, else she's on a wedge in our bed. But we have a very content little baby and we're pretty content too so I guess it's working for us!

It's amazing how you get a sense of a baby's character in the womb... it's really accurate. I felt that Tandia would be a bit of a more serious child. Very content. Very sweet and very gentle. A wise little thing. This is really how she comes accross.

That makes me think of Sophia - how I felt I knew her, I did.

Since being home there have been more and more sore moments. I referred to The Kernel as Sophia by mistake. That hurt. Then for some reason my bath really set me off. I had so looked forward to my first post-caesar bath which I was finally allowed to have on Friday night.

The Band filled it with bubbles and dimmed the lights and put on some music for me. I don't know what it was. Perhaps it was the first time I was bathing "alone" for a very long time. No one in my belly. It just made me ache for Sophia. Tandia was never particularly excited about the bath when I was pregnant. But Sophia used to love baths - she'd kick about plenty from the moment I was in the water. Baths were always our time.

Since Friday night I've had a growing ache. An increasing hollow sadness. It's a strange place to be - a mixture of pure joy and relief and awe and reverence and gratitude on the one side and a deep, aching, gaping loneliness and longing on the other.

How I wish Sophia was here to share all this with us. To welcome her little sister into the world. Having our beautiful daughter here with us does not solve it. It doesn't stop us missing our firstborn. In some ways it makes me miss Sophia even more.

And then came The Kernel

It's true what they say about time disappearing once baby arrives. It's unbelievable. Anyway, bla bla, that's my way of apologising for taking so ridiculously long to write this post.

We arrived at the hospital last Thursday night and they began the induction. I had contractions through the night and much of Friday, but by Friday evening they were slowing down. The doc tried to induce again but by Saturday morning the contractions had stopped. Time for Plan B - a caesar.


Very last bump pic - 36 weeks 1 day

So in we went.


McBand in his scrubs.

I guess I kind of thought that I had earned this idyllic birth experience after everything, but alas, twas not to be... We went into theatre and there was a nice vibe in the team. They started the spinal block and were about to get going when the anaesthetist (THANKFULLY!) saw me grimace when they did something... something I shouldn't have felt. The spinal hadn't worked. bugger. He tried again... nada.
That is not what you want to hear when you're bracing yourself for surgery. Only option was to put me under general anaesthetic. CRAP!

I guess the good thing is that I didn't have much time to think about it. Apparently I had the foresight to tell them that I wanted someone to tell me exactly what had happened the second I woke up... (as we were walking in to theatre the one sister was saying that The Kernel would DEFINITELY have to spend time in NICU etc etc - real little optimist that lady!)

Anyway, next thing I awoke to someone congratulating me and telling me that The Kernel is perfect and healthy and breathing like a champ! I of course started crying - they tried to console me til I explained that those were not sad tears!! Those were the tears of relief of 8 months of fear!

The clock in front of me read 11:30 - we'd gone in to theatre at 10.

I felt so drugged and my stomach and throat were so so sore. They wheeled me through to my room and on the way I caught a glimpse of a topless Band snuggling a little bundle. He brought the bundle to my room and this is what he brought me...


In many ways that moment I'd waited so long for is a blur. I remember being amazed at how light she was and how beautiful. I remember realising that she knew me and I knew her. I remember feeling so drugged and thinking "I should be upset about the way it happened - about the anaethetist's bugger up, about the fact that I only met her an hour and a half after she'd been born" but feeling an overwhelming sense of "I couldn't care less how it happened, she is safe!!!" Relief. Pure relief. Like breathing for the first time in 8 months. Like quenching a thirst that has reached desperate frantic proportions. All else fades. Little else matters. She is here and safe and healthy and perfect.

We're just about there

I can't believe the day is just about to dawn. Everyone says to me "already?? Wow it's gone fast!" HA! People forget that they only heard at 12 weeks. Also it's fast if you're not living in fear and worry. No... I can't say it's gone fast. This pregnancy has fone from one milestone to the next. We've tried to celebrate each one, to consciously unguard our hearts. This pregnancy has been the hardest thing I've ever done, but it has also probably saved my life. Sounds melodramatic, but the promise of new hope, the joy of pregnancy that you simply can not dampen, has no doubt saved my sanity, maintained some joie de vivre in me. I am entirely, indescribably grateful to have this baby on board.

But I ramble.

Yesterday and today I had my steroid shots. Ow. I've been wide awake since 3.30am - not worrying, not stressing, just awake. Asked the nurse about it today and she says it's a side effect from the shot. Lovely! Hoping for a better night's sleep tonight!

So tomorrow, in I go. 5pm I go to hospital and they will start the induction soon after. By Friday morning the doc will pretty much know if natural is going to happen, if not it'll be a caesar.

It occurred to me yesterday that my only prayer has been for a healthy, living child. It seems greedy to ask for any more. But that's a bit silly, isn't it. God is not a Father who wants to give his kids the bare minimum. With that in mind, here's what I'm praying for... those of you who do, please could you join me in this?

1. A healthy little baby girl (oh and my health too)
2. No need for her to spend time in NICU
3. The induction to take fast so I can avoid a caesar (unfortunately if I have a caesar I'll never be able to go natural again - they can't induce if you've had a caesar. Also with The Kernel being so small she is going to need a lot of love and care from me and I want to be in top form to be able to provide that for her)
4. A fairly quick labour

Those are absolutely in order of priority and number one is the only one that really matters, the rest would be great of course, but to have my baby born safe and healthy will be everything to me.

In the last couple of days I've had so many blog comments, twitter comments, FB messages, smses and phone calls of people all over sending their support, their love, their prayers. It has meant so much. People are incredible. Thanks to all of you for caring so much. I am taking my computer to hospital and as soon as possible I will update you all and post pics. Otherwise, follow me on twitter - that's the easiest for me as it's straight from the phone.

Adios for now :)

The Nursery

Well the nursery is all done at last so here is the long overdue photoshoot:

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.