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
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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.