Archive for the ‘With Sprout’ Category

14.03.13
March 14, 2013

As the light shifts and the feel of the days change to that Autumn peace, you’ve been on my mind more than usual this last week and yesterday I even had the chance to speak about you with women who understand. Most of the time now, my thoughts about you are held close and go unshared. Your father remembers and thinks of you, I’m sure, but he still finds it hard to talk about you and see me still grieving, not understanding that grieving feels good sometimes. And it does feel good to talk about you and know I will be understood. Mothers love our babies forever, whether or not we are able to bring them to birth.

It’s not easy these days to find the mental and emotional space to think about you and love you the way I want to, but think about you and love you I do. That won’t change. It’s hard to reconcile what sometimes feels like a stasis or stalling in my relationship with you when I have a loud, active, adorable but demanding baby rampaging around the house and seeming bigger every day, but when I think of you I can always conjure those first glowing and promise filled days of early pregnancy. I suppose you are more of a feeling than a memory, and as the loss of you grows further distant, what I still feel most is hope. Thank you.

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Asher
June 6, 2012

Just a quick note to let you know that my son Asher is 2 weeks old today. Today was a beautiful, sunny winter day and I took him for the first time to visit Peanut’s garden. Some day I will tell him about what we lost to gain him. Thank you all for the support you’ve given me and the love you’ve given my Peanut. It has truly meant a lot to us x

12.04.12
May 2, 2012

I think of this as our time of day, when the sun starts to sink and the goldenness of it comes slanting warm and gentle into your garden where I now sit. I’m sorry to say that your garden has looked better than it does now, but I’m almost 36 weeks pregnant now and it’s been a while since weeding came easily.

I feel less like this is where you are now. The more time that passes, the more I feel like I carry you around with me. Quiet but present; a friend and a soul belonging only to me. Not unlike the baby I’m carrying, but soon this baby will belong to the world outside and you will continue to belong to me alone.

It is a year today since you left my body and I gave you into the ground. It seems both an age and an instant. The grief still comes on me raw and surprising sometimes but I feel like such a different person now. Mostly due to the having and losing of you. I do wonder how other women can get through the loss of a baby in silence while I had this big, loud grief that couldn’t be denied.

And I feel no conflict in the dichotomy of still physically missing you and the experience that would have been your growth inside me and then your birth, and welcoming this baby, this much-needed baby, into our family. I know this baby is not you and feel it never could be because I’m no longer that me. But I have the space for both of you in my heart and in my life forever.

It’s this most awful of days that stays strongest in my memory now. Not the day we were told you were gone but the day, the horror of that very minute, when the proof of my loss was there in my hands and I hated my body and my life for letting you go.

I still talk to you, though rarely aloud anymore, and I still cry for you and I feel stronger for still having that connection to you. I miss you, I love you still and I always will.

You are irreplaceable. 

06.10.11
October 6, 2011

The day I’ve been dreading has come and nearly passed again. Today I am eight weeks and six days. This time last pregnancy I was sitting in the emergency room trying to understand how my future had been stolen. Today I barely moved; barely breathed. And, of course, everything has been fine. Almost an anti-climax because I know I won’t wake up tomorrow and be magically, instantaneously fearless.

It has helped that I had my first scan last week and we got to meet Sprout. The ultrasound tech remembered us and could see I’d been crying. I was truly convinced it was going to be bad news. And he was wonderful. He found Sprout straight away and in his first breath told us “a single, viable, intrauterine pregnancy. And see there? The heartbeat!”. And he was good enough to ignore my tears as I practically floated  straight through the ceiling, I got so high.

So no twins, no bleeding at any point and perfect size for dates. All very good news. I’d hoped for a deeper connection with Sprout now that I’ve seen him, but I’m still struggling to enjoy this pregnancy. I suppose it doesn’t help that I’ve been so sick. I think it’s more about fear though. I suppose like anyone who has had their heart broken, it’s hard to trust again.

There are lots of good things happening though. I had a call this afternoon from the midwives at the Mater hospital who are accepting my application and I got my patient registration papers for the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital while they consider my application for the birth centre.

So I’m uneasy, but I’m happy and everything is going the way it should. Nine weeks tomorrow, Peanut. Watch over us. 

29.09.11
September 29, 2011

Scan tomorrow. Eek. I feel like I should be freaking out but I can’t quite muster the energy to do so. I’m a little more worried than I would otherwise be because my morning sickness and fatigue have lessened just a little in the last couple of days. It may just be a temporary lull, and I don’t want to stress out, but it was about now that my symptoms dropped off with you, Peanut.

At least I don’t have long to wait to find out. When I try to think about what it would be like tomorrow if everything’s not okay, I just can’t. My mind gets all skittish and sort of shies away, unable to contemplate the possibility.

So I am telling myself that all will be fine and that we are going to walk out of that room feeling a deeper connection to Sprout and that little bit safer.

I wonder if you were around yesterday, Peanut, to se the fuss going on in your garden. The photographer came and did the pictures to go with the article and I think it will be nice to have good pictures of me and your garden. It wasn’t a very nice experience though. I didn’t like him touching and moving things and, even though he asked, he moved your chair before I could work out how to tell him I didn’t want him to.

At least it’s done now and it’s back to being a special place just for us. 

22.09.11
September 22, 2011

Seven weeks tomorrow. I half feel like it’s racing ahead but there’s still a part of me that feels like I was already nine weeks only a few days ago. This is a very different pregnancy though. Physically, I mean. It was always going to be different emotionally.

This time around I’m a little worried it’s twins and that’s certainly new. Not just because of how sick I am and my beta HCG, but because my mother in law has told me there are twins in the family! No one thought to tell me that. Apparently twins are quite common in middle eastern families and Sprout is an arab/anglo/asian baby. Jake keeps saying our kids are going to be funny looking and I keep telling him off. Our babies will be beautiful and exotic.

Journaling has become hard because I desperately need to stop over-thinking things. I do worry that I’m keeping more distance from this baby than I did from you but I think that will change after we see Sprout at the scan. I’m trying to believe that everything will be fine and mostly I’m succeeding. I’d really rather avoid having to worry about the extra risks of carrying twins.

Your lobelia’s started flowering, Peanut, and it’s only now everything’s flowering that I can see how many purple flowers I chose. Oops- you can tell it’s my favourite colour!

16.09.11
September 16, 2011

While I’ve written to Sprout in the meantime, it’s been a week since I’ve written here and I’m in a very different place now. For one thing, morning sickness and first trimester exhaustion have set in which makes it difficult as I usually write last thing before bed.

I think starting to actually feel pregnant has gone a long way towards helping me believe this could be real. And sharing the news with more people and gaining their support. In most cases anyway. I was brushing my teeth and feeling lousy yesterday morning and then suddenly I was vomiting in the sink. I never actually vomited with you Peanut, and I do appreciate that but maybe this is a good sign. And stronger morning sickness makes sense because I got my beta HCG levels back yesterday. For 5 weeks, levels are usually 18-7300. Mine was 12800! Jeez- I hope Sprout’s a singleton!

I had brunch yesterday morning with another RCH nurse, due a week before me, who I actually met online in a due date forum. It’s her first too, so we got to do the excited first time mum chat as well as working out how to handle the work stuff. And T. is pregnant too! She already has A. but I love the idea of sharing this with her. She thinks she’s due a week behind me.

We, Jake and I, have been talking more about Sprout this week. When he leaves in the morning he gives me a kiss and says “Bye Lamb” (which is me) “and Sprout!”, and I say “We love you!”. I know it’s silly but it really gives this baby a presence in our lives.

You are still a strong presence Peanut. I think of you all the time and I still sit in your garden and sing. Now I’m singing to two babies. I can’t stop comparing this pregnancy to what I felt six months ago and I can’t explain how I feel about this pregnancy without talking about you. I suppose that will change once I pass the point where you and I lost each other. It’s not all sad, though. Without having any defined belief system about the afterlife, I feel you. I sense you as this benevolent presence, and the peace and joy that fill me while I sit surrounded by your flowers.

So I want you to wish us good things, Peanut. I have an ultrasound booked for 8 weeks. We are 6 weeks today. Show me good things.

09.09.11
September 9, 2011

I’ve struggled today. I haven’t cried this much and this hard for a few months. I’m struggling with not feeling the joy and excitement that I want to. I’m so worried and so scared and I just feel like I don’t know what to do now. No; that’s what I said to Jake last night and he told me that’s wrong. It’s that I don’t know how to be. I’ve been on cloud nine and jumping out of my skin with excitement before and it didn’t end happily.

I’m trying to access that excitement. I bought some sweet, tiny baby things this morning and I’m reading baby books. Jake and I were talking about boys versus girls last night (he wants a girl! Thinks they’re more interesting(?)) and I got properly excited. I told my mum tonight over the phone and I was crying even while I was telling her. And not in a good way. We said goodbye and I was still sobbing fifteen minutes later when Jake walked through the door. The poor guy thought I was miscarrying again. Then he thought someone died. I sobbed through trying to reassure him that, really, everything was fine. Unsurprisingly, he had trouble believing me.

I’m only five weeks today and I don’t feel pregnant yet. Just sore boobs! And I haven’t caught up on sleep since night duty yesterday morning. And I suppose I’m hormonal. I just got so good at looking to the future and making peace with things after the miscarriage and while we were trying to conceive, and now I seem to have lost my happy thought and I’m falling. I thought another pregnancy was all I needed to fly.

I love this baby and I want it so much. This just isn’t how I thought it would be. 

06.09.11
September 6, 2011

After some thought I’ve decided that I’ll start a new journal where I can write letters to Sprout which will stay private until Sprout is ready to read them. I’ll keep writing here for me and for you, Peanut. I didn’t start sharing my letters to you until I knew that you wouldn’t be reading them. I don’t want to lose my connection to you and I want to feel like I’m being fair to you both. Also, there’s going to be a lot I need to write about that Sprout doesn’t necessarily want to know. Depressing or uncomfortable or just a little more M15+.

Your auntie B. stayed here Sunday night so she was the first one to hear the news. She’s usually so un-impressible that I got a great surprise at how excited she got about you. Not so this time. Several warnings about not getting too excited or attached and, what really hurt, when asking about our due date, she said “when would the baby be born?”.

I know I’m going to be over sensitive but I really felt like that wording meant when would the baby be born if it wasn’t going to die like the last one? I mean, it’s even so much easier to say “when are you due?”. From now on when I tell people I’m going to say we’re having a baby and quite scared about it this time around, so please help us to be hopeful. I was so excited about telling people I was pregnant with you but now I just worry that this time people will all react like B. Even Jake was trying to tell me not to call Sprout our baby yet.  I reminded him that that’s not how I work and explained that I need him to be excited and optimistic with me. I know he’s just worried I’ll be hurt again. So, I suppose, is B.

Some minutes I’m optimistic but I probably spend just as many being disbelieving or outright pessimistic. The best I feel is sitting in your garden in the sun, Peanut. Then I feel like you’re enveloping me and I’m enveloping Sprout. That’s my family. 

04.09.11
September 4, 2011

I’m so happy that I knew. I was worried I wouldn’t have that instant connection to this baby. And that’s what you are, little one; despite my many fears about this pregnancy, you are already my baby.

Since losing my little Peanut, this is the first time I’ve felt I was pregnant. And I started feeling it only four days post ovulation, too early for implantation even. I was so calm this morning. I can’t say I was without trepidation, but I felt so right that I actually delayed testing. Like taking the time to savour good chocolate.

I showered while my phone counted down- watching through the shower screen and pouncing on the test at the three minute mark. A strong line! I hope that means you are a strong bubba. I cackled, then I yelled for your Daddy, and by the time he was through the door I was already sobbing.

It’s hard. I’m more subdued than I was with Peanut. I wish I wasn’t, but I’m coming at pregnancy from a very different angle this time around. You are very much loved already, little baby. My hesitation has nothing to do with ambivalence. I know I already want you more than is good for me.

I’ve just decided that we will be calling you Sprout!  🙂

The crazy thing is that even though I’m more fearful now, I just want to jump in and plan and dream even faster than last time. I think part of it is that I still believe what I did after my miscarriage- enjoy it. Relish this time and wring every pearly drop of happiness out of it. The other part is, I think, that it’s not long really since time stopped for me at nine weeks pregnant. Despite the absolute upheaval of my life and the deep and fundamental changes in me, less than five months have passed since I was merrily counting down to the second trimester. Like I was only paused, not stopped. Needle lifted but still spinning, for the vinyl fans out there.

I’m going to fix that, Sprout. I will create new rituals and make this time ours. I’m choosing to believe that we will have generations of time to share. Please believe it too.

You, Peanut, should believe that space you occupy in my heart is yours for keeps and that you will never be far from my thoughts.