The Bullshit Stars

Some things do change...  a lot of things have changed.

I was once a girl who would believe anything; not necessarily gullible, but would like to believe in the nice and fanciful things.  Father Christmas as a young kid, the tooth fairly too.  The Easter bunny, not so much.
I wonder how I started my wanting and needing to read my horoscope?  I was born mid March, a Pisces - oh, how I loved to read all about them; their traits and characteristics.  How their feet were the best parts of their bodies, they loved the water and were the dreamers of the zodiac.
Much to A's amusement I had bookmarked pages on my lap top, I checked my app of a night time to set me up for the day ahead and would go out of my way to read about the fishes.  I remember there being a cafe that cut the horoscopes out of the daily paper, stick it to the back of the coffee machine, so all customers could read their star signs while waiting to place their order, that place soon became a favourite.  I wonder how much time I wasted on that?

I remember reading in the local paper at the end of last year - 'Your Stars for 2010' and I was hooked!  I read how 2010 was going to be my year, how after some long stint of 8 years or so, this was it - all my dreams will be revealed.  It said the best day of the year would be August 23rd.
Well that was absolutely fantastic and spot on, we'd just found out that I was pregnant and knew her due date was August 25th.  And do you know what I thought?  I could live with that, I mean if I was to have a Leo; surely I would want it to be on the best day of the year for me. I simply can't believe I was disappointed to be having a Leo and would have preferred a Virgo; just a few days later.  I mean what a fucking load of bollocks!?  To pin all my hopes on that one day?
Okay, it did kind of give me this invincible feeling, when we were in the middle of the two scares we had with Elizabeth - I'd always talk myself into being calm about it all, with the thought of what my fucking horoscope said.

As it turned out, the Sunday morning of August 22nd was when Elizabeth made her entrance into this world, by emergency c-section - only to leave it again some 14 minutes later - that was the single most heart ripping moment I have ever beheld; when they told me they couldn't save her.

It wasn't the worst though; I was so filled with love, this Mother's love for my baby daughter that I held lifeless in my arms.  I was bowled over by how perfect she was; the fact that we made her and she was so beautiful.  Our love had created her.
Elizabeth was with us all day, and that night she slept in A's arms on the fold-up mattress, down beside mine - all I could do all night was stare down at the two most important people in my life.  That was the longest night of my life.  It didn't matter that the catheter wasn't draining, that the nurses didn't listen to me, or the fact that the morphine wasn't attached to my arm and was dumping the pain killers on the floor when pressed, and pressed, and pressed - all I could think was, how did we get here, what was I supposed to do with life now?

The very worst was leaving the day later; the 23rd August.  Leaving the bed, the oncology ward, the hospital, the city - leaving behind my precious daughter, walking out of the doors without our baby....

That is why I don't subscribe to the horoscope bullshit