Christmas Has Passed

Where do I start?

There has been lots of realisations over the past few days - I have had a lot of time by myself, to think, to take stock and for those realisations to settle within me. Conversely, I have had much distraction too; its all or nothing for me right now.

Christmas day was okay in the end.  It just does not feel like Christmas over here; it being the height of summer (although it is actually quite chilly).  I am used having Christmas celebrated in winter time; dark nights, grey days, driving rain, sleet and snow and all the fairy lights giving of that rosy glow.

Last Christmas was the same really, there was no Christmas celebrations to speak of, although the decorations had been up for some weeks and Elf.fm was blaring.  We found out I was pregnant again on December 15th and were just over joyed, we couldn't believe it the best gift there was!
But that didn't last long; the long and short of the story is that my blood tests that were taken a few days later (then every other day from then), they were showing that levels of hCG were not doing what is was supposed to.  Everything was to shut up shop for the week of the holidays and that is when my GP told us to expect a miscarriage.  Happy fucking Christmas to you too Dr!  We'd only just told our immediate families that I was pregnant again, there was no way I was going to tell them that news; we just didn't want to believe it.  So a show we had to put on for the families while inside we were just waiting for the worst - thankfully that was only for a few phone calls and the odd chat on Skype.

But we're talking of Elizabeth here, so hCG levels were great with the next blood test in the new year and that relief was awesome!  Christmas' here have been awful since moving out here, but there has been ways of getting around them and not celebrating; just like this year.

This year A. was working night shifts (hence the time away before hand - still working on the getting together a post for that), so I spent the 25th with my dearest friend here in my real life here; J.  She is awesome, compassionate and caring, mostly she tries to 'get it'.  She grew up in a communist country and so doesn't do Christmas; she has two kids and so makes efforts for them, but there is no traditions, no grand meal and nothing but an ordinary day - it was fantastic, as much as any day can be.  It passed quickly with Bruce. Springsteen and Missy.Higgins playing and before I knew it I was back home waking A. to go to work.

The 26th was my quite time and I spent a lot of it in bed asleep with A.  Nothing stands out as being anything particularly and I'm not complaining! Then yesterday both A. and I went off to the cricket at the MCG - I couldn't believe how diverting it was and had a really good time!  It did help that the Aussies are bonkers about the cricket, there was a wonderful atmosphere and the English were whooping their arses!!  Ha ha.

Then I had a call from home, M my fathers partner; I may have mentioned her and her father, Ray passed away just a few weeks before we lost Taggpole.  M. is without children herself, but she 'gets it'.  She is so attentive, compassionate and empathic and it warms my soul when she calls from the UK.  We spoke for hours last night and I off loaded so much, but all the deep and heavy talk of emotion started with her telling me how the family are thinking of me at the Boxing Day family gathering.

Now I've been thinking a lot about my father's side of the family, after commenting on Glow in reply to Eric's post.  I tried to bite my tongue, but couldn't and out it all just came; that Christmas card from my cousin with no mention of Elizabeth, the silence from the family, A's whole family not speaking Elizabeth's name and his sister just blanking everything, that has happened to us  - my total disappointment and hurt just boiling over in hot tears down the phone to poor M.

That lead to the fucktard at Victoria Gardens and how opening up to people is like playing Russian roulette, but in not doing so, would be denying my daughter.  We talked of our beliefs and the difference between the old and young dying.  I spoke of my aspirations; of how I want to get to a point where I think of Elizabeth and just feel the love (I don't think that is attainable for any length of time - but I'm going to try) and we spoke of the family some more.  M got the impression from them, that I have had contact; cards, notes, calls and she was shocked that I've had heard from just four (including that card).

She understood my feelings of disappointment and hurt and was angry for me - talking of how people just don't understand, don't take the time to put themselves in these ugly shoes and have an ounce of empathy - there is no bullying compassion or attentiveness and I don't want their pity.  I feel somewhat validated and understood by her and glad to know that I wasn't over reacting.  Just talking it all through with someone on the outside, was good and was left numb.  I am so thankful for M's ability to listen to me properly and so very thankful that she is in my life.

There was another moment where emotion over took and floored me.  I received a mail from my dear friend from my old life back in the UK, where we both lived and worked away from home - oh, we did have so much fun, myself her and her son!  I miss her; she was and continues to be a great pillar of strength to me.  The snippet of the mail she sent:

'I had my candles lit for Elizabeth for Christmas.  Had to explain all the candles to E. He said he understood why you were sad.  He said it was because you lost something that was one of a kind that was so precious that it could never be replaced, even by another baby (I was amazed by the depth of his comprehension).  The reason I bothered you with this story is because he believes that everyday, Elizabeth tries to give you a hug to comfort you because you're sad all the time.  He prays for Elizabeth because he believes that she would be very sad that her mummy is so sad. You remain in in our hearts all the time'.

My friend's son is just eight years old.

Words can't describe how completely I am in awe of this child and his Ma.  I am so touched and thankful that she 'bothered' to tell me of her son's words and I am just floored by the level of understanding and compassion.  A child of eight; a young man in the making with such an empathy and perceptiveness - it just highlights my family's failings and the majority of the human race too.  I cried and cried after reading that, with the tears of a BLM knows all to well.

I thank you dear friend and your young man, that is an amazing gift.