I'll find you in the bright colours and quite places, always remembered beautiful Elizabeth - Auntie K

Friday, January 28

The F Vent

I can't sleep.  It is half four in the morning and I've been awake for the past two.
A. and I were talking though some stuff until past midnight and I can see Friday morphing into one long fucking day.

There is a big fuck-off moth in the kitchen, bouncing about the lights in the ceiling - getting nowhere and that is what the thoughts are doing in my head right now...

Thud, thud, thud, settle...
Thud, thud, thud.

The more I think about the things on my mind, the further I get from sleep and the madder I get with these people and their insensitive words.  I read two mails and they have sank in I want to hurt as physically as I hurt on the inside - I need to show how this hurts me...  Not quite figured that one out, but need to get it down and out of my head anyway.

I am so very careful what I write to people; I'm mostly talking about family here and have been doing an awful lot of it too.  When they enquire in a mail 'how are you?' (surprisingly not that often), I try hard to be honest and not just to say 'bad/good day'.  I want to be understood on some level, I want them to know that things will not go back to a 'normal'; I am changed, as is my whole outlook on life. And of course my main aim is my want to share Elizabeth, for them to know her, help me remember her and to keep her in their hearts and minds.

So I am very careful when writing my mails and I do compose them.  I am very deliberate in choosing the words I do and never use the words:

anniversary - I always say her birth day,
death/died - just can't put my daughter's name and those together
gone - she is always on my mind and is always so very present in many ways
lost - no, I didn't lose her at the mall, she is always with me
God/angels/heaven/all religion/prayers/karma/fate - all bullocks; I don't believe.

And to the neighbour I talked to for the first time two days ago and shared Elizabeth with you - I certainly won't mention my thoughts for another pregnancy with you - who the fuck talks about my family, or lack therefor and in the same breath wants to know if we're having sex?  I am English and that may predispose me as prude of sorts, but in my book that just isn't any body's fucking business!  Private.

And so my cousin is out of the closet with her pregnancy at last, she must have past that magic safety milestone of 12 weeks.  My Ma mails me and says she knows that I know and she was knocked for six.  She goes on to tell me how its affected her; 'not envy or anything straightforward.  More like terror. Or anger. I want to know nothing about it'...
I think she may understand a fraction of my pain?  But tell me why didn't she see this when she could visibly see me cowering at the mall at all the babies & bumps, when Elizabeth would have been 6 weeks old?  I wonder if my cousin has said anything about her baby's twin?  Good luck baby.

Oh, I want to shout at them all, let them know how their words have put further salt to all these wounds - but something tells me not to waste my breath.  I receive mails back and they are in noway as censored as mine are going out, which only serves as a reminder that A. and I are not as understood as I had painstakingly hoped to conveyed.  It doesn't matter how much of our lives I share with them, they will only see what they want to see and read.  It makes me sad that they do not want to know us, or the depth of our love and conversely our pain.  It really makes me wonder why I bother sometimes...

But then I do remember and I fucking dig my heels in further - I will tell them of my daughter, I will not give up on her and I will keep on writing and remembering her...

I have just received another mail and it validates that last sentence so fully - there are people out there; family who do care and want to know and understand more about us.  C's kind, compassionate words, her gentle coxing and sincerity is heart warming.  Her words are like beautiful music to my ears; this is why sharing my precious daughter is so worth all the hard work in the end.  It really doesn't matter that  it is just one out of a handful of replies; it is someone who has taken the time to be with me here - thank you dear C.

I have come full cycle this night and I am now tired and spent; although smiling

Good morning Y'all

Wednesday, January 26


I don't go spending all my days, everyday trying to distract myself.  Sometimes it may seem like it is my main objective looking on My Space - but it is not my every move. I guess I'm wanting to vary the things that I write about, I am conscious about sounding like a stuck record and need ways to think around life without Elizabeth.  It would be so very easy just to document the ways in which I remember her, the ways in which I bring her up in conversation with others and how my mind is mostly orbiting around her - maybe I should concentrate on that for awhile?

I shared you with a neighbour today baby girl, I told her your name and how old you'd be, how I long to mother you and how dearly you are missed.  Someone else knows of you now.
I light your candle on nights that I feel particularly alone and want to feel you with me; most nights.
Whenever I pass your open room, I see you.
How I always close every window on my laptop, just to see your changing photographs on my desktop.
I find immense comfort in your image that faces me as I lay my head to rest at night, just as comforting as the soft feel of your blanket.
I love the instant flash of memory that serves as a shield from the what-ifs; of your hair in the sunlight, spun gold...

I also talked with friends about how my perceptions on morality have altered, along with my priorities and outlook on life.  Heavy stuff really for light chit chat over a hot brew in a busy cafe....
But these are my days, there is very little relief from the fact that I am living without my daughter; my first born and have to strive to find meaning to go on, to live and take part in that life again.  In airing these thoughts I do realise how looking at the big picture is somewhat comforting; knowing I am not the only one who suffers - I am not alone and I wasn't chosen for this.  This realisation doesn't come with great fanfare; it is quite and powerful and something that grows life...

I was aiming to write 'like a weed', but 'life' is much more apt.

I have forgotten where I was going with this post - perhaps nowhere, but just wanted to get down here that I'm not bottling everything up, I am being authentic to me and my emotions - I just wanted to share some different things here.

Tuesday, January 25

Measuring Identity

There came in this mornings post a new book For A's birthday.  It is right up my street and also light, easy reading, so I started it.  I wanted to step out of my world of 'woe is me' and distract myself, but found that it just drew my attention to other areas of my life, affected by my loss that I'd never considered.

Here is a simple experimental method for measuring identity - a personal view of who we think we are. It is simple, all you need do is have these 10 minutes on the clock and complete the sentence "I am .....  as many times as the 10 minutes allow.

I'll put my answers in a comment below, I don't want to taint your answers.

You want to share yours?

Sunday, January 23

Where Did All The Love Go?

I'm needing to step back from this world I'm in
I seem to be stuck in a world full of 'me', 'mine' and 'I'
'Woe is me, my baby died', 'I can't have', 'I've lost', 'I want...'
I've got to take a look at the bigger picture
I am a small cog in the this game of life.

I read Angie's most recent post on Glow; Enlightenment, while I have no common grounding with that post on reading it; no feelings of holiness, no collective loss on the whole to enable me to feel as if I'm just someone else who has lost my baby - but something obviously stuck with me, maybe the simplicity of the Buddhist folktale she recounted there, Kisa Gotami and the Mustard Seed.

Then today as I was waiting for the train to take me home, I was struck with two complete opposites; two families.

On my right was an older mother and her son.  They were sat down quietly waiting as I was, chatting together and sharing jolly conversation.  The son must have been 18-20 years old and it was obvious to my eyes that he was mentally disabled.  I can't say I know the differing shades or spectrum of mental disabilities, he looked 'normal', but had this air of innocence and a beautiful young soul.

To my left was a family of four; mother and three sons, one of which was still in a pram.  The two older boys were slurping from takeaway containers and eating sweets, the younger of the two was clearly a good few sizes bigger than his brother. They were running amok up and down the platform, acting up and mouthing back to their mother, I was quite shocked by the angry language she used to try and control them.

Such polar opposites and then there was me sat by myself in between them - in all my glorious babyloss loneliness.  All the while I am caught trying not to stare at either side - the right side for the beauty of their relationship; the love, patience, the trust that is so easy to see, and the left for everything that I hope I would never do with any living children I'm blessed with.

The Buddhist folktale comes back to me then - I don't know the hardships the mother on the left has had to deal with, just as I don't with the other, but I feel we've got a duty to our children to do the very best we can for them.  Maybe that is all the mother of her three sons can do and doesn't know any different...
At these times I think of how many hundreds of children around the world die every day, every week, every month - how many of them were truly loved, had a blossoming futures ahead of them, a wonderful family supporting and guiding them. My heart breaks when I think of them and I do feel so very, very sorry for the ones that don't and manage to keep their grip on life.

We are all mothers all three of us, but profoundly different.  I'm not sure if I feel a connection to either mother; no common ground, but I do aspire to be more like the mother to my right.

Friday, January 21

Updates & Rubbish

Taken from notes in the coffee shop, yesterday.

So what do I attribute the OV on CD10 to then?
My screwy hormones, the herbs, acupuncture, thyroid function or it being just early this time - regardless it came out of the blue and wasn't at all prepared for it then.

Why is it hard to just write?  Its a little loud in here, but nothing I can't block out.
After all the events of the past couple of days, the sheer strength of emotions - I'm feeling quite content to just be without going into any of it in depth.  So what happened?  Where to start?

OV on CD10 took the all the positive wind from my sails, which of course I was away and didn't find out until I got back and it went straight from CD14 to DPO4 - go figure?

Thyroid function bloods came back super low and I'm on medication again.  I was livid that my GP had no space to see me for a week, but then the next day managed to find a cancellation for that afternoon and she is in touch with the team in the city and I'm just waiting for an appointment with them now.

Had a massive blowout with A. which felt like the end of the world, again.  But as it happens everything is hunky dory now with the added extra of a fresh emphasis and understanding of an old pact we made some weeks back: No matter what is said or heard (that is just as important in my case), we must keep at the front of our minds that we only want what is best for each other, even though sometimes that maybe quite different from what is best for the 'us'.  To know deep down that we love each other dearly and wouldn't ever intend to hurt one another.
That is so much easier to say, than to remember when hearing hearing words that strip away the ground you walk on, from the one that you trust, love and respect in all the world!  It is easier to listen with your head and I found out the hard way that I needed to listen with my heart just as much.

That was the first major meltdown between us since Elizabeth's birth.  I have changed a lot; wiping the slate clean without having to really process it at all, without the grudge holding/resentment/moodiness of being hard done by - I guess that just pales in comparison to losing Elizabeth.  But there is something else that may have enabled me to bounce back so quickly and reconnect with A. and have renewed hope; a sign.

The signs that mean the most - maybe like Elizabeth's pregnancy.  I don't know, but I've found something to rest upon and gives immeasurable comfort and it is so really very silly, but will share it.  A news paper article.  Those who've read from the start here will know that it was an article that gave me confidence with Elizabeth and that was my 2010 horoscope - written in The Bullshit Stars post.  Well this article presented itself to me as I was laying flowers down at our usual spot in Victoria Gardens.  VG has just had its summer manicure and looks lovely, although a storm in the last few weeks has brought down the beautiful big old willow tree that stands at the water's edge.
Anyway, I sneaked down and was securing the big purple and orange bunch of flowers to the palm when I notice some rubbish, just a single front and back page of the local rag and was going to take that with me along with the rest of the flower wrappings; I stopped when I noticed the pictures on the page...

It is dated Dec 31st 2010 and my first thoughts was - Yeah, thanks for that, just what I needed to see on laying flowers for my two babies who aren't with me; more babies...
But on looking at the massive words; 'Hello Baby - What do we want for our newest babies in 2011?'  It hit me like a sledgehammer!!  Wow!!

I draw attention to the first baby on the page; James.  That is also A's middle name and one that I have always loved (thankfully no one else has it within the family) and knew it would be a contender if Elizabeth had been a boy, but was forgotten at 12 weeks due to finding out her sex (CVS).  I happen to know another dear BLM who has had her heart set on another name on that page...

Think what you may, but I choose to believe that this solitary page of paper is the biggest sign that I'll get; to take home a live, healthy and happy baby in 2011!  I choose to to see this as something tangible to pin my hopes on - I don't care how silly it sounds (and I know A. finds it ridiculous) and you know what, I don't give a flying fuck where the comfort and confidence comes from; its all I need and boy (pun intended) I could do with every ounce of it I can lay my hands on.

I am feeling more optimistic about things happening.  I know its not going to change a single damned thing with a pregnancy, apart from my mindset and I welcome that.

Thursday, January 20

New Ears Too

As you may have gathered, I do love my music.
With this grief, I find I have new filters in which to hear all these songs.
Some of these songs are just beautiful sounding, but recently this new light is on the words.

The song in question is one that I have mentioned before, one that never fails to bring the tears to the surface; an old tried and tested one, so to speak.  Well, as I was sat on a fairly packed train headed into the city yesterday this song made an appearance and I was fully prepared to find the player and quickly fast forward...

What is the use of fighting this emotion I thought?  I listened to it with these new ears that know bereavement; the hurt, the pain, the unanswered questions, the what-ifs, the lack of understanding, the isolation, desperation, wanting, longing, the utter unfairness of it all...

I listened, I closed my eyes and honed in on the words and they took my breath away. I pictured myself sat on that train and surrounded myself with all the familiar 'voices' I know in this new life and knew deep down that I am far from alone and I do take comfort from all my new friends I have found here - so there we all were, sat hand in hand on the train with me, all heading to who knows where, but far from alone.

This song doesn't just understand bereavement, it is a shining light of hope too - not that everything is going to be alright fanciful crap, but the hope that you can and will get a life back on track - "hold on".  I guess I'm trying to say a huge thank you to those who mean the most to me, who walk with me along this dark and windy path; you know who you are.

Everybody Hurts - R.E.M
When your day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go, 'cause everybody cries n everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
If you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on

'Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. You are not alone

From This Perspective

Taken from notes about a week ago.

They are playing Julia.Stone - her soft mellow, mournful voice and tunes are unobtrusive to my ear here; almost calming and nice in a world full of hustle and bustle.  I escaped the questions of Elizabeth - I guess I'm not wanting the look of pity on someone who'll never give me another glance on the street; she is the estate agent and see her at best twice a year, I got nothing from telling her of Taggpole so why would I expect anything more with Elizabeth?

I miss my little girl
There isn't a way that I couldn't do
There isn't a fibre in me that would want this path
There isn't a thought, action or motive that doesn't speck her name
There isn't a moment where there isn't this new mother's love behind my eyes

The shades I wear, or more so the coloured film that I see the world through, is blue right now.  Its the slight contrast that is blue tinged and colours everything in my life and everything I see.  Blue is my favourite colour and is also the way the coloured photos of Elizabeth have turned out - you see the photographer kind of saturated/defused them somehow so as not to highlight the fact that she didn't have a lovely rosy complication.

I see this view as my grief goggles/contacts/glasses and how I view my love for Elizabeth.  The blueness of life without her, defused of life, but still going on regardless of me and my utter torment.  Everything is paler, more abstract and dull, but this is the way I see things since Elizabeth's birth.  She has shown me this whole other side to life and love - oh, this mother's love; I'm still bowled over by its power!
It is all encompassing, all consuming, awe inspiring, unconditional, all powerful and truly amazing!   I can only imagine how it would feel to have but an ounce of that returned.  When I see this love reflected in the eyes of my child and to bestow it on another physically, to show this openly and not have it showing as the overwhelming tears of right now.  So this blue view is by contact lens, no one else can see them and know of this distorted vision I have....

I can't not wait to put the Dame.Edna style glasses on that all the other new mother's wear so openly.  It looks to me that they are all wonderful shapes and sizes, bright colours and wacky appendages, but most of all I'm green with envy that they have the rose tinted version to wear - their new mother's love so blatant for all to see and be able to show that.  I want the glasses that hide the sleepless nights.  I want the goofy ones that allows you to coo all over your newborn without restriction of looking like a complete idiot.  I want to wear those glasses that say I have a purpose. I want to be able to have those funky Mama ones that sees the world as innocent, rose tinted and wonderful, where there are such things as miracles.

That is another thing that gets me, how come everything is so steeped in wonder, why is everything so magical?  Scratch that; I know because they've not had their world turned on its head, they don't know this gut wrenching pain or this unquenchable thrust for something so out of reach.
Time to snap out of this downward spiral of wanting, needing, longing and yearning for those answers to the unanswerable and for the things that that I just can not have.  Why do I do this to myself, highlight all the things that are just so far out of reach?

I have hope that I'll soon get the chance to see the world with some sort of rose tinted glasses - I know its never going to be the same; this flip side of life.  But someday I will have new meaning, I will have use for all this love I have; an output for it and a new baby to actively mother.  I know that another will never replace Elizabeth in my heart - I don't think I need to expand on that as Leslie wrote it so well here, about 'a scared space' next to the ones of any siblings we'll be blessed with...  A time I can only dream of after two pregnancies.

On seeing my prenatal yoga instructor:
Heart jumps up into my throat
I'm shaking and my anxiety levels soar
Pulse is up and I just want to run!

I've seen someone from my 'old life'
and she's acknowledged me from afar
I don't want to say those words
"My baby girl Elizabeth, she died"
But I do not want to deny her either.
What would I prefer; her discomfort or mine?
I can live with mine; its an everyday struggle for me
But why do I feel protective of her feelings?

I can hear her chatting at another table with a friend
Oh, A. where are you?
You should be here to comfort me and save me from this
I feel sick and dragged back, I know she remembers I was pregnant
This is the first time I've seen her and I'm not prepared at all

Calm yourself
Watch the world go by the window
Listen to the music
Wait patiently for A.
But I'm also shitting myself there will be a tap on my shoulder from her smiling face
I can't stand this...

As it turns out A. was just around the corner and came in to collect me - there was no awkward words, just a smile in acknowledgement as I charged out of the coffee shop.
There has been one other time I wish I could have back again, where I did deny Elizabeth - BUT in a roundabout way.  New neighbours are renovating and came to introduce themselves and wondered if I had "children to keep awake with all our banging and ripping the old kitchen out?"  I took a moment and stumbled my negative response.  Oh, I feel terrible for that and just want to explain to them; I do have a beautiful daughter, one that they'll never get to meet...

Monday, January 17

Thoughts from our 'Hideaway'

I should really be getting up, but can't leave so much unsaid here in My Space.  I feel like I've over reacted and have been melodramatic about all of those intense feelings from yesterday.  They are still not in nice neat little boxes to be filed away in my head somewhere, but something happens with sleep; a good sleep when I can wake up and function again on other things as well as the grief.  I have that now.

Was talking to A. last night about it all and he said that he feels guilty sometimes for wanting to enjoy himself and for actually having a good time - but I don't think I feel that if I'm being honest.  We weren't running away from Elizabeth, or her memory, but we did get a reprieve from the grief.  We took her photo with us, her blanket that we sleep with each night and we took candles to light for her -  and I should say that our hostess, Lisa for those days away needs a mention here too.  Her attention to detail and her unwavering high standards were awesome, while her silent acts of compassion left us both with a warm fuzzy glow.  When sorting the 'hideaway' out during the second day, while A. and I were adventuring, she left by Elizabeth's photo a fresh posy of wild flowers from her garden and some more candles - we were both so incredibly touched...

We did have a lot of distraction during those daytimes; all the fun of exploring new places together and I wasn't here at home with my head in my thoughts and feelings all the time.  Here, Elizabeth is in every waking thought; if its not some image of a baby or bump that kicks me down, then it is looking around the place and really seeing the things that should be so very, very different here.
Being away and spending quality time with A. helped me come out of my shell; I saw the 'old' Tess. There were no external punches, no tv, no B&B (baby & bump) to hinder my happiness with him.  We had a winery map, sites of interest to visit and the open road and we were free from all constraints.

Elizabeth was in our hearts and on our lips; with every toast of our full glasses, it was always to 'our babies' or some variation of such. With every stroll down on the beach I'd be writing names in the sand and trying to snap those before the next wave came (quite unsuccessfully I might add). With the weight of my camera case on my back, I wondered how I'd fair with Elizabeth strapped at my front. How she'd love the bubbles in the hot tub and how we'd have no worries bring her to the 'Hideaway' with us. We lit all the candles we could find and eat dinner each night in their soft warm glow under the stars. We fell asleep with those candles dancing beneath the fan and we played all the meaningful music we felt like.

We spoke of our wishes and dreams for our daughter, we missed her acutely and shared tears.  We did speak of the future that we have in front of us now, our hopes and dreams for our family.  We talked of how we'll carry Elizabeth's memory with us, making new memories with every step and making her too short life count in our lives, knowing that she'll always be apart of us.

And we do have such high hopes and dreams for us and I feel so glad and excited at the prospect of them all with A.  I think those four days away showed me that there is life after death, there is light and small patches of relief down here and it is attainable.  It is going to be a roller coaster ride (not manic thank you A), but right now I have no control over my feelings: If I feel true happiness; I really do feel it. If I hate the falling back down to earth; the bitter after taste of that happiness, then that serves to teach me to hold on and enjoy it further...

If everything was grey, how would I know the different between joy and pain?
There is no grey here in My Space; only bright colours and darkness.

I have a feeling of calmness that only writing things down can give - it has made room in my head for other considerations.  Like where the hell did DPO 4 come from Fertility.Friend - what the fuck?!  The jump from CD 13 to that is quite something - we'll see...

Sunday, January 16


That is to say that 'things' are hard right now; somewhat of an understatement.

We are back from A's birthday getaway and to say we had an amazing time would be another understatement.  Four days and three nights away in our own private 'African Hideaway' on the coast of the Mornington Peninsular, where we were waited on, cooked for and pampered from afar.  I could talk at length of the things that we got up to, the places we went, the things we saw and the merriment we enjoyed...

But it all had to end and right now I can't even string a coherent sentence together, let alone function at a basic level.  I have put washing into the washer, I have drank a brew, I have hung Elizabeth's canvas up in our bedroom and I've not left...

I have read a little and cried a lot; They Were Still Born.  I have cried and sobbed, both for Elizabeth and the many others that I hold in my heart ~ Why?
So much is going through my head and the majority of it all overwhelming me with its power.  I can't think any further than taking my next breath, of struggling to open chest from this vice-like grip for the bare minimal.

I can't take my eyes from Elizabeth's image that hangs on the wall a bed away.

Leave me alone world, let me be.  I didn't choose this; it is what it is.  Let me cry unreservedly, let me hurt and really feel the pain; let me feel connected to my baby girl please.  I have no care to do anything, I have no plans, I have no want for anything - barring some magic wand to relive that Sunday, 21 weeks ago and as Sam says - 'to put right what once went wrong'.

I am back to gazing at Elizabeth's 25x37" image in the wall

Tuesday, January 11


I think sometimes I'd rather stick my head in the sand, forget the world and just tend to myself - to hell with everything else!

I'm stuck in one of those exhaustive low times times of activity right now.  This stretch seems to have lasted longer than anytime before and was upon me a day or so after my last post.  I didn't think it would take that long for the negative to come, but I am surprised about how long it is still with me though. When I read back those words of such positivity, the high I was on was awesome - if only I could have bottled it, just to have a little smell of what it was like again.

In truth I haven't been this low, all this time.  There had been bits of light relief along the way, although they have never really taken hold and almost seem false or forced looking back.  I am unsettled to be back on the TTC wagon, it brings up all the insecurities, the dashed belief and mostly all the thoughts and questions of 'Why?' again.
Why the fuck should I even be thinking along the lines of trying for another baby - I should have a 20 week old in my arms.  I shouldn't be feeling this desperation for a child.  To have what I was sure I would take home and love unconditionally, but now is gone to me.  All those hopes and dreams for my daughter, our little family growing up together...

Words aren't enough!  This pain is so deep, so intense, there isn't enough blood in me to spill to show how this is.  I hurt with every fibre of me.  I miss her with every thought, action and word.  And yet there is still so much room for all the love too?! How is it, that my heart is being torn every which way it possibly could?

Give me something to hate, and I'll hate it with a ferociousness.
Give me something to love, and I'll love it unconditionally.
Give me something to care for, and I'll nurture and cherish it.
Give me something to mend, and I'll repair it to new.
Give me something to do, so I don't wait with hands tied.

There is so much beneath the surface of my words.  There are so many posts waiting to be written, but I wipe the slate clean now and start afresh.  I hope that by allowing me sometime, I can start to make sense of all the emotions that are once again frightening in their rawness.  I just hope some down time for my head is what I need to let the dust settle...

I can hope right?

Wednesday, January 5

Sharing Elizabeth & Renewed Hope

I find myself sharing Elizabeth with a lot of people now and I am happy to be doing this at last.  I am also finding my arse is getting very flat with all the writing I'm doing - but who cares about that when I have my beautiful daughter to talk about!

I have been corresponding a lot with my pregnant cousin over the past week or so, getting lots of things off my chest about various things, but mainly how motherhood has defined me right now and of course all things pregnancy related.  I feel somewhat understood by her now (I know and hope she'll never have a full grasp, but she is trying) and I know she appreciates my hindsight.  It is just hard to condense all the information we've shared about complicated issues of the heart.  She has known 'sadness' in the form of losing their little one's twin at 8 weeks and losing her father (my Uncle Nick) some 10 years ago; she knows grief, but just has a thicker skin than I and I almost feel ashamed to have thought and over reacted as I did.  Its a work in progress and I am trying to learn fast.

I am also writing to both A's sister and mother about Elizabeth, sharing photos, ideas and hopes and dreams we had for her.  It is very sobering to hear all those thoughts from outside of my own head, with people who haven't been open with we before.  It does prove they are human inside too and feel the loss of their granddaughter and niece.  I was at first resentful towards them for taking so long to come around - but in writing to them I love sharing thoughts and feelings; I will take any and all airtime they are prepare to give to my little girl.
I thank A. whole heartily for mentioning to them that I need and actually want to talk about her, if only they'd show just a little interest.  As it turns out, they were both afraid to upset me - and how well we know that is just them projecting their fears, emotional incapabilities and anxieties on us.  I'm not sure how long its going to last, but I'm sure getting a flat arse from all this emotional sharing...
I'm not losing stream as with any favoured subject, there is no running out of ways or words to use in which to describe my life now and how Elizabeth has touched every aspect of it.
I really feel I am being shown attentiveness and compassion and it is a lovely feeling, being cared for and having Elizabeth's memory in the hearts of others is a powerful thing and brings me closer to them - a shared love.

I also am writing to a few other BLM's; 'listening', understanding, sharing other perspectives and allowing each other the space to write what each in turn needs to write about.  I am so glad I have these Moms and am so very thankful for their time and space they offer, along with the support, guidance and love.  I honestly don't know where I'd be without them, in particular with the lovely lady who holds my hand and has been here with me almost from the start.  The friendship we've foraged is a lifesaving one and in my eyes is the silver lining of this huge black place I find myself in.  I feel far from alone and I love you all for that - thank you for accepting me without hesitation, for your grace and compassion.

So, onto a lighter update, I have an acupuncture appointment early next week.  I am really looking forward to it; having someone else take control for an hour or so and look after me.  I will enjoy sharing/comparing notes with those who are having treatment also and hopefully feeling more confidant about everything.  It maybe a whole restoration of that hope and confidence, as I had results back on bloods yesterday.  It looks like the PPT is levelling out and I have good thyroid function right now.  We just have to keep watch to make sure it doesn't swing the other way now - but all is good and we have been given the green light.  Game on!!

I can't believe how excited I am, to get the go-ahead and be able to try again.  I feel as if all my christmas' have come at once - which is very odd seeing as I've shunned it for the past two years!  All this hope and optimism I feel now; I'm quite amazed about - I obviously didn't realise how defeated I was.
I think if I could bottle this feeling I would stand to make millions.  So, I ride it like the roller coaster I'm on and find I'm at the top of the highest point.  I can see the course in front of me and it is the steep slope downward heading for the loop at breakneck speeds.  I almost can't sit still; the excitement, the anticipation and the sheer thrill, but fuck I am terrified and take great solace that I'm not falling yet.  I know what is coming, or at least a bloody good inkling.  This is the course that is set and I do so willingly...

Tuesday, January 4

The Song Of The Moment

This song has been going through my head for the best part of two weeks - ever since I heard the first few notes of the latest twiglet DVD (the vampire saga) we were watching.  I recognised the music immediately as I have the soundtrack and that started off the constant playing; not of the whole album, but just this song.
I just loved everything about it and it spoke to me.  I didn't know what all the words were, but sang the ones I did know and I feel as if I know it all off by heart now.

Except that I did look up the words...

Here is the song with the lyrics.
If you don't want to watch it, they are here;

My love, leave yourself behind
Beat inside me, leave you blind
My love, you have found peace
You were searching for relief

You gave it all, into the call
You took a chance and
You took the fall for us

You came thoughtfully, loved me faithfully
You taught me honor, you did it for me

Tonight you will sleep for good
You will wait for me my love

Now I am strong (Now I am strong)
You gave me all 
You gave all you had and now I am home

My love, leave yourself behind
Beat inside me, leave you blind
My love, look what you can do
I am mending, I'll be with you

You took my hand added a plan
You gave me your heart
I asked you to dance with me

You loved honestly
Did what you could release 
Aaaahhh oooh

I know in peace we'll go
I hope relief is yours

Now I am strong (Now I am strong)
You gave me all
You gave all you had and now I am home

My love, leave yourself behind
Beat inside me, I'll be with you
oooooohh ooooh
Du du du ooooooh

Sunday, January 2

Banging My Head Against A Brick Wall...

But its my heart that is hurting.

I seem to be going around in circles this passed week and I can't get myself out of this funk.  I'm just feeling so completely off, restless and out of sync with everything around me.  I am a mess and I hate it.

Think it maybe the accumulation of a lot of small things that is thoroughly getting the better of me.  If it is not one thing, then something else will come down to engulf me with its overwhelming self.  I hope that in writing them all out now, will sweep them from my head, so I can get on with whatever it is that I need to do right now.

Disappointment with the family.  My father's side mostly, my sisters and Ma, and I've only had conformation of my mother's side with their indifference (barring one that I will mention in a moment).  I know that I hid myself away from everyone, but I thought they would come to me with kind words of Elizabeth, thoughts of us and some support at the 'festive' time of year.  I guess I wanted and needed to be overwhelmed with those shows of compassion and attentiveness, rather than having to ask for it - it seems to me it is forced sentiment if I ask.  I'm just so completely sick of making up excuses for them, for the inaction and silence.  Have I brought this on myself by moving half a world away?
I got to the stage where I did cry out for a little understanding and help and wrote The Bereaved Parents Wish List & More on my Face.Book page - for all the good its done.

My cousin on my Ma's side has just told me she is pregnant, that and her struggles to get there after IVF and over three years of trying.  This news came over several mails, but the bomb shell came this morning. Reading those mails just shows me how completely misunderstood I am in her world.  She just sees my ability to get pregnant, not the fact that I have had two pregnancies and my arms are still empty. It hurts that she assumes so much and just want to shout how un-fucking-fair all this is...
I haven't got the strength to fight her notions of what I must be going through, I don't want to go into detail about my deep and utter despair, my longing for my daughter and the need and want for another - because deep down, she will never grasp the full force of losing a child and I only hope it stays that way.  It is still early days for her and I wish her all the good luck in the world.

My Aunt from My father's side shocked me with a called a day or so ago, just to let me know she has passed on my contact details of a family member who is also living out here.  I have never met them, but appreciate the gesture.  This is what myself and M. were also taking about from my last post; about meeting new people and having to go back to the beginning of our story - A's and mine and my life story.  I see myself as being defined by Elizabeth right now, I am mourning my daughter.  I do not want to have to explain myself to someone who doesn't get that right now - I know there is not that common ground between myself and this family member.  I have yet to hear from her.
This Aunt is also Ma to my cousin who was pregnant at the same time - her third, a boy lived.  While I've not heard from my cousin at all; nothing, Aunt says it is difficult for her; difficult for her to get in contact with me, cousin doesn't know what to say.  I was and still am speechless about that...

A. is working long days right now, he is up with the morning sun and I am left here at home with no purpose.  Sure there are plenty of things to be doing, stuff that is never ending like the washing, cleaning, cooking, 'box' watching and tidying.  I don't want the meaningless tasks; I want a routine, a point to getting up, washed and dressed in a timely manor. I want my purpose, I want to be tending to Elizabeth, doing everything that I should and would be doing if she's just lived....

All that is compounded by thoughts of the new year - 2011.  What will it bring me, what can I do for myself in that year?  I look back on the past years and wonder where they have gone!  I have been for the past two years marking time for our babies.  I have spent the best part of those two years pregnant and I have loved every moment of it - yes, even dubbing morning sickness as 'happy sick'.  So to have all those expectations and dreams, all the anticipation and pure joy whipped away - to be replaced with this Mother's love...
I am finding it difficult to love with so much power and selflessness.  I am finding it increasingly tough to love Elizabeth with just my heart; without her to look after, to fuss over, to wonder and marvel at her and to receive a ounce of that in return.  I need to put all this love somewhere, it is her love and I can't just do nothing with it.

I am a tight angry ball of frustration right now, more so than I ever thought was possible.  That is why I choose the colours of My Space, to show that all my emotions are a tangled, raw mess.  I am in so much heart pain too, I never thought a broken heart would hurt so physically; with every single beat of it.  I never thought it was going to be this hard to mother a child either, but I am constantly amazed of just how little I knew and fathomed.

I am a mess and might as well accept it for now.  I know things change and this will be put down as a bad week.  I am sensing a subtle change in this grief; I gradually have better days and they seem to last a little longer, but then I get the gentle slope back down to the depths of desire.  These highs and lows seem a whole lot higher and deep than before though, as if I'm just getting beneath the surface of my tangled emotions....