Right Where I Am: 9 months, 5 days

This is the first time I've taken part in a an other's project, let alone one that is for creative minded people (I see myself having missed that creative gene).  You see this blog is just for me really, a space where I can put down my thoughts and feelings without having the pressure of having anyone from my 'real life' knowing - I do love the people who read my ramblings and they've only found me through comments on other blogs that I read, or have happened to find me here. My writing will not win me awards anywhere, it's not eloquent, it's not pretty, it's certainly not up to any grammatical standard - but it is real and it's mine.

Thank you to Angie over at Still Life With Circles who has provided this thought provoking, yet very simple question and the blank sheet of paper for me to dwell upon, reflect and grow through - it's is also a chance to have an look into the lives of other parents who are walking this path of grief and see where they are right now, whatever their timeline is.

*****

So 9 months and 5 days. 39 weeks and 5 days. My beautiful Elizabeth was born at 39 weeks and 4 days and I remember it all as if it was indeed yesterday.  We have missed her a day longer than we had her for and that simple fact cuts to the bone. I didn't think it would have this effect on me and had been concentrating on the big milestone of her first birthday - but it has it it knocked us both for six and I'm just picking up the pieces.

I miss her, I love her, I miss her, I love her so damned much...

I could fill pages of lines like that and probably have over these nine months and 5 days too. Not only in this blog, but in the paper journals and all the letters, emails and writings that I fill my days up with.
My family and friends are all back in the UK, we moved to the other side of the world to start our dream life; it turned into some sort of nightmare where the only children we know of are the two that we mourn. I've had to be very open with my writing, talking on the phone and certainly Skype'ing has just been so tough - I doubt that I could hold the same conversations with all those people face to face either, that is just too difficult for me...

Even now nine months out, where I can function in the day to day world with a smile and hope in my heart. I still find myself limiting the exposure to the newborn babes that seem to be highlighted with neon signs everywhere, the obviously neglected and unwanted, unloved children that happen across me at sensitive moments - I just can't deal with them and run in the opposite directing trying to hold myself together. I know it'll get easier, but when? I know I could barely look at another pram and now I find I'm curious; I want to see that baby.

And I am functioning. I think the biggest hurdle of this past month or two has been to let go of the fact that I can let go of the pain. The loss, pain, heartache, yearning and the all the love has up until that point, been so entwined together. There was no feeling one without the other; the love I have for Elizabeth and the pain of her death. I found that with all the 'functioning' I was able to do, I was losing my connection with her and felt like she was slipping further away from me; I hadn't felt grief with just that love before, it's a new shade and something to get used to. I guess I'm reasonably comfortable carrying around a deep measure of pain with me now, although it is nicely wrapped up under a thin layer of fresh skin. I am able to shrug off the usual everyday attacks; I'm somewhat desensitized, but that doesn't mean I don't feel the stab of pain and loss - I do with the same intensity, but am better at coping with that now.
The love however has remained; it is just brought up to the surface above the pain and I've found new ways of dipping into it. I write a journal to Elizabeth as if we're having a grown up conversation, I get to focus on my thoughts for her and to really explore and grow on those - that brings me a sense of closeness. I still light candles every night, I still have her blanket with me as I sleep, I kiss her box of ashes every morning and night, I talk to her in my day, I buy us beautiful flowers on each 22nd, I have photos to view from every resting place, I tend the plants gifted to us in her name, I dust the nursery with all her things in there...

It goes on, Elizabeth is apart of the life Im living.

I am more reliant on my husband. For his understanding, his compassion, his safety, his support, his laughter, his optimistic view to life he still possess, his nurturing, his happiness, his stability, but mostly his love and acceptance of who I am now. Elizabeth's death drove us into each others arms with our shared love for our firstborn. We did and still do grieve very differently, but there is a clear understanding between us that we will not knowingly hurt one another - that gave us the freedom to grieve in whatever manor we both needed, just knowing that we have each others best interests at heart I think saved us.

I have this deepening love for the people in my life who still want me to share Elizabeth and what I'm feeling, with family and friends; both old and new. I know I have been remiss about keeping in contact with too many, the fact is that spending too much time reflecting and writing mails/blogs/journals on where I am, just eats away my time and energy for actually living - right now I find there are weeks where my feet don't touch the ground; I'm just so busy. The dear ones that have persisted with me are truly awesome. They can understand and put themselves in my shoes, they have realistic expectations of me and my capabilities and they show a deep love for me, Elizabeth and my husband - that is a heart warming thing to discover on this cold winter morning.

I have let go the thoughts of wanting Elizabeth's too short life count for something. It is meaningless to me the fact that she was and is so loved, was conceived, grew and thrived within, just to die at her birth. I'm not saying that her life was meaningless, but I'm not ready to subscribe to the idea of learning life lessons and putting meaning where I cant see any just yet - that will come I'm sure.

My whole view of life has been shifted, priorities have changed and old ways reassessed for their merit. I don't believe in a God, a natural order to things, karma, fate or luck; things are just purely random and shit happens to good people everyday. There is no sugar coating anything anymore; I see and say things as it they are - maybe that is my way of shocking people into the reality of my world right now?

I guess the single biggest life change for me right now is the fact that I am almost 18 weeks pregnant and everything is becoming a little more real now. The relief of this pregnancy was almost deafening; jumping off the desperate roller coaster ride that is TTC and being able to focus wholly on Elizabeth, my grief and finding my way again - such a relief in so many ways.
I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't scared for the future, but right now? I am feeling good, calm even. Everything is going well and I'm feeling well supported both physically and mentally. That is one of the reasons why I am so busy every three weeks or so; I'm booked up to my eyebrows with appointments at the hospital in the city. I can only think ahead into those three weeks though and am only filling in the gaps around those appointments weekly. The fact that I can't look to the future its not a conscious decision at all - it is the path of lest resistance and will just see how long this calm stays with me.
I'd love to write about my anticipation and excitement for this new soul, but all I can say with my hand on my heart is that I love he/she with all of me. I am continuing to focus my efforts on keeping Elizabeth close to me through this time of great functioning, learning how to do that with more of the love I have have in a more subconscious way. I know that a time will come when I'll have to face facts and fess up to a future that is so uncertain...

Thank you Angie, for this wonderful opportunity to write about my grief as it stands and of course to share my dear sweet Elizabeth openly and for many to read. It is great that so many have been drawn to your project and I know those who read these collections of 'Right Where I am', will gain valuable insight as I have - Thank you

Nine

It is another Sunday the 22nd.

Its been nine months since you were born baby girl.
Just thirty-nine weeks ago you were in our arms.
In four days you will have been gone longer than we had you for...

I'm unsure if I want to hate these sort of days, or whether I want to keep them sacred and just for you. Right now I'm not wanting anything negative to touch you, so today will become your day darling; full of light, warmth, love and remembrance. It doesn't stop the flashbacks of how things came to be, I remember you with such a clarity and cling on to your perfect beauty. Just talking over your birthday with your father this morning brought so much detail back to us, both the good and the bad.

I miss you with all of me sweet Elizabeth.

Nothing in this world will ever make this alright with me.
I am so wronged. You are so very wronged too - this was your life!
So much of this grief has been about getting my head straight, that sometimes I lose the focus to be mad for you darling - please excuse that and know I would give my all to have your warm self here with us still; to see you grow, thrive, learn, explore, laugh, love...

I still haven't picked up the What To Expect in the first year book, I just can't bring myself to do that so I really don't have a clue on what I'm missing out on with your developmental stages and milestones - but I miss each and every one of them. I like to think that I will have that chance with your siblings, so that book is going back on the shelf for now.

Beautiful girl you will always be our beloved firstborn baby, the older sister to whom ever else comes next and the apple of my eye. You will always be our perfect daughter, the one that can do no wrong - I know it will be a long time before your perfection is fully seen and all the hurt and pain that surrounds your death fades.

I am learning to cope with this heartache, this eternal yearning and missing of you; I carry it around with me like a heavy weight and it is something that I'm getting quite used to now. My skin is hardening to external triggers, of course I still feel the stab of realisation and pain, but my recovery time is getting quicker. Sometimes I amaze myself and it is almost like water off a duck's back - does that make you worry less about me?

I can function the day to day mindless stuff
You are in our day to day, our every day
I am there for your father when he is crumbling
I remember you, I talk to you, I miss you

Oh, how I'm missing you...

You are the burning heat that resides in my heart
I love you Elizabeth Layne
I will always love you

Superficial Living

This is one of the few times that I've picked up my computer over the past few weeks and wanted/needed to say something. This is one of those times where my mind just won't settle and have to get down what is going through it.  This one one of those lucid moments of deep thought, there may not be one for a long while when I am able to write.  It is 4am, its not freezing and my husband is working his last night shift; so why not use this time to write rather then grab up a book or even easier just my phone and distract myself...

I'm quite stuck right now; its unconsciously done, but don't have the strength to get myself out. I am living a surface life with no deeper meaning than to just get through the day without harm. I'm constantly running from anything which allows me time within my own head and after the past (almost) nine months, that is something really quite foreign to me. Home isn't my safe place any more, sitting in the window with computer on my lap isn't happening - the poor birds are getting neglected. I have tried to make my home more inviting to me by changing the three bedrooms about; organising new ways of living in this space, finding new things to do within these walls...

I still want to run from here and immerse myself into the world of action, doing and anything which takes quite time away from me - I don't know, am I scared of being in my head for any length of time? That must be it. Just scared of the future I could paint; all the 'what-ifs', good and bad.

I'm protecting myself I know. I am functioning, I am doing really well if truth be told.  I'm not beside myself with anxiety and that is a shocker to me. I am just floating along with the current and just taking a back seat in everything, giving no attention to the view as I go. Although there is the other side of that coin too - no anxiety, no excitement, actually there is no anticipation at all.  There is no future planning when it comes to this new soul - I'll cross that bridge when I get there. I guess this is what it is like to really live in the moment, but I guess this sort isn't the aspired version; I have the self imposed version.

I'm finding it so hard to talk with anyone beyond the day to day living. There have been a few moments of lucidity between A. and I, but they are few and far between right now - thankfully he has been working nights this past two weeks and we've barely had more than a few hours together; its good enough just to keep things on an even keel. My sister will ask me how I'm doing (and really ask too) and I just deflect back or answer in a superficial way and I know she can tell.
(How am I? Physically okay, everything is looking good today, but mentally? Whoa. Such a loaded question. Do they really want to know, should I make something up to make them feel okay? Do they really want to know the inner workings of my mind, all the many sides of the coin - fuck, I don't even know how I'm doing.)
I've let other contacts wither too; the people that have meant so much to me, the life lines of understanding and empathy. My families emails have gone unanswered, every one's mails have and I've not called home in weeks.

I feel wretched about this and that only serves to make me bury my head deeper into the ground. This distancing isn't a conscious effort, its clearly what I've go to do to just now. With any hope just the act of writing this will help me see what I'm doing and wake me up to this.  But what is 'this'; denial? Whatever it is, I'm not of the inclination to go into it now - it just is.

I'm in uncharted territory here, I am in self preservation mode and I am finding a way. I am in a very different place from almost everyone I know and that in itself is heightening my sense of distance and isolation.

Things will inevitably change...

The Past Month

I'm trying hard to live.

I'm planning more than just a few days ahead, not months or anything like that yet. I think the fact that I'm having all these hospital appointments made for me a month to three weeks in advance is helping; I'm having to plan other things around those.  And its not just the OB, midwife, physician, MFM appointments; I have psychology appointments that the hospital has just started up too.  Dr Psych has also suggested I attend a 'teaching group' for anxious mothers going through a subsequent pregnancy (I'm lead to believe its mostly for PND suffers, but the tools and advice maybe helpful to me too) I'll give anything a go once, I mean what harm can it do?
Along with all those I have my monthly group meetings with the SIDS & KIDS that I've continued to go to from the outset and have made some good contacts there.  They also have a Support During Pregnancy group that I'll give another go. I was quite frankly quite horrified on my first visit, but can now realise the scope of the fear and anxiety surrounding these pregnancies. I also have known support going from the other group; so fingers crossed.

I have also been working hard at being more present with my life, not taking everything for granted and really immersing myself in the day to day; making each day count.  I've been stagnant for too long, stuck in my head and not 'doing'.  I'm in an another action phase and I'm okay with that now.

I do however feel like I'm a fine tangle of thoughts and emotions though.  So much has happened over this past month and I'm so far behind getting it all down here - I'm afraid that it'll all come out as a huge splurge and make no sense at all.  I guess that is why I've been distancing myself from everything and putting off writing.  I'm sure as things resurface I'll elaborate more, but for the time being I'll just recap with the shorter version.

So with the folks being here for almost a month; it was hard.  More functional problems more than anything else; just having my father and his vegan partner under our roof.  I was 16 when I left home and was 12 when my parents separated - I've lived on my own for 16 years and had to fend for myself emotionally for over 20...  Anyway, I think Freud would have a headache with our family dynamics, so I'll not bore you with it here.
As well as it was hard having them here, it was also lovely to have them near once I got my head around the fact that they were doing their best to love and support me; I did start to relax and open up to them.  They left on good terms, very good actually and that has made me all the more happier to have made such an effort with and for them. I have no regrets.

There has also been quite a few anniversaries and dates of significance to remember over this month.

Elizabeth's eight months - which coincided the folks last days here and had to be selfish to our own needs/wants; A and I spent the day together (that in itself was a rare occurrence seeing as he has been working every hour under the sun - maybe so he could get out of spending time with them? It'll be paid back to him when his parents visit!).  I brought huge bunches of Oriental Lilies, I had them dotted about the house and the smell of them are just divine and lasted for weeks - those are now associated with Elizabeth and will buy those on the 22nd each month instead of the tulips.

Mothering Sunday in the UK a few weeks ago - that one caught me off guard.  I received heartfelt and beautiful texts and emails from family and had a really nice chat with my sister K too.  That warmed me cockles.

Sharing news of this new soul - we'd passed the twelfth week and with the folks being here, we couldn't really hide the fact that I was always tired, having food aversions and sickness, too sensitive smell, was quite cranky and having all the hospital appointments.  They cried at the news and then again on seeing our NT scan (DVD) and was just wowed.  They were so happy for us, but took on board our fears of having everyone think that this new soul was our 'band-aid' baby; suddenly making our world bright and rosy and 'fixing' us - it won't, it'll never be okay that Elizabeth isn't here in our arms...  But we can hope with this one.
I'm happy to say that they have passed all of this information onward to the family and for that I am truly thankful for their understanding about our fears and hopeful anticipation. I must admit sharing our news has been easier than I expected and am really quite touched by the responses from the family in respect to remembering Elizabeth, while nicely expectant (not too much and not too little) for this new soul.

Easter came and went too - without family over here, it was just a very, very long weekend (with Anzac Day making it a five day holiday), the Sunday just another day, albeit a rather posh one.  Myself and a friend (A. working) went for afternoon tea at a fancy hotel in the city and very civilised it was too.

A. and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary.  Yes we did celebrate it too! I can honestly say that we had a wonderful time that day on the 26th. That evening we got all dressed up, I managed to fit into an old favourite dress, with room to breathe and a degustation menu later and I'd worn makeup for the first time in eight months!  A beautiful meal, relaxed, happy, talkative and with every sip of my mocktail (and his G&T) we toasted 'to our babies' and 'us'.  A wonderful day and night.  I am so lucky to have found and married the most perfect man for me...  and that is just the tip of the iceberg.

Then there is this weekend - Mother's Day here in AU and the fact that I'm at the point in this pregnancy where we lost Taggpole.  It is a twisted weekend full of all the what-ifs and they are endless and tireless.  I haven't put the tv on for all the bombarding of the Mother's Day over here (Classical fm doesn't care thankfully and neither does my 'best of' playlist) and have been busying myself with manual tasks - swapping all the bedrooms about with A's help.  I am lucky that A. is here with me and not working all weekend, without his support I would have crumbled and failed today.  It was hard enough moving Elizabeth's things out of her room (to be put in a bigger, brighter room); it was such a mess and just fell apart hysterically.

Dearest Taggpole, oh sweet first child, where do I start?  I have cried many, many tears today.

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So with all this functioning/action/living; have I left Elizabeth behind me? I don't think so, no. She is a part of me, of our lives, our thoughts and hearts.  She is in our day to day, she is in our conversations and planning, she is in our past, present and future.  She is very much in our hearts and well remembered.

I think the main thing that has changed for me is the fact that I've shed a lot of the pain I carry around for Elizabeth.  I've had to hide that while the folks were here and guess I just got used to the way that felt; I didn't buck at it and took it for what it was. I'm not saying it was easy at all; I felt terrible for not allowing me to feel it, but I'm okay, I could function and still hold onto her without all the hurt, pain and utter sorrow.

The flashbacks have taken a consistent back seat too. Talking to my SIDS & KIDS counsellor Petra really did help and would urge anyone having troubles with them, to seek out someone who can draw out all the details in a safe and somewhat comforting environment.  I didn't think that just talking would do much, but wow, I was wrong.

Something else I have really found helpful is another suggestion from Petra - I was needing another way to help me keep Elizabeth close to me and she suggested I keep a journal especially for writing to her.  I write every week, if not more and it gives me the chance to really focus all my thoughts on her and concentrate on exploring my all feelings; everything I want to say and have her know.  Its one thing to think of her, but another to really cultivate those thoughts and put them down on paper; really focusing on them. I have found this most helpful in bridging the gap that I have felt growing between us; I feel so close to my sweet girl when I write in that journal.

I have also been keeping another journal; this one is for this new soul.  I write in when I need to, after some milestone is reached, or a scan.  This I use to be able to bond and again explore my thoughts/fears/anxiety and be able to build on the growing anticipation. I'm trying to be more present, be glad of every new day have and realise I have so many blessings to count.  I hope that writing this journal will bring me closer to getting my head around this pregnancy and teach me gratitude for all that I do have and hopefully have in the future...  But isn't that a projecting thought?

I have ideas blossoming about Elizabeth's first birthday.  I want to make August 22nd something special, something that others can help me remember her, wherever they are in the world.  I was quite taken with Carly's actions of taking a sunrise and sunset photo on Christian's birthday and that has taken seed.  It is something that I can do every year; take these sun up/down pictures from wherever I happen to be and make an album of them all.  I have spoken to several family members about this idea and they are all up for taking their own photos and passing them on to me for an album - its going to be such an achievement I think, such a visual and present way of remembering our dear Elizabeth.
I just have to be at the highest height for her sunrise photo now; being in the East coast.  I have already looked into a hot air balloon, but that is a no go (not for the size I'll hopefully be by then), so will have to go for the highest building in the city - the sunset photo will be a lot more straight forward.

I will get around to updating the Pumpkin Pages at some point soon.

I have been feeling on top of things really, with the exception of this today's mini meltdown. I have needed to take time to myself in order to take stock of the past month and I'm not feeling bad at all.  As I said before; nothing will ever make it right that Elizabeth died - but I want to live, I need to live.  I want to try and get the best out of what is left and want to succeed in being the best mother I can to Taggpole's and Elizabeth's siblings and in order to do that I need to put a lot of effort into getting myself on track again.  I don't want their memories to be the lasting bad taste; I don't want Elizabeth's death to be my own downfall.  I do want more for myself and I want to honor their memories with good things in my life; of which they are a huge part of and want and need that to shine through.

I hope this Mother's Day treats you all well
Remembering our babies always

Hiatus

Just a quick post to say that my silence isn't anything to be worried about, I'm okay; all is well.

I am struggling to catch up with everything after having family visit and just need some time to take stock of where I'm at and what I'm doing - I have just been reacting to everything around me and need to get back into thinking for myself again on a more deeper level.

A lot has been going on this past month, a lot of changes and its been hard work.  I have also been hiding out in a lot of distraction too; I just haven't had the time or headspace to think and now that I have, I found that I was okay not to for awhile.

Everything changes and I hope to fill the gaps soon...

Revisited

waking ~ for tess

your pretty baby, she is sleeping, but close your eyes 

and look, there she is in the rainbow, waking, in the morning 

grass smiling, in the quite of your grief wrapping her tender 

arms around your growing heart, reminding you, no matter where or

when, you are not alone, and no matter how distant you might some-

times feel, oh, she is there, holding the beat of your heart in her 

name. say it out loud. write it in the sand. etch it in concrete. put

your finger to the snow and make her letters appear, anything to

bring her rainbows into the room. and know that even in your quite,

maybe especially so, she is your stillness of mind, your laughter,

the wind that blows through your hair, whispering, forever and

always, dear one, i am here, i am here, i am here, waking the light

of rainbows, reminding you we waking together, always, pretty baby,

good morning sunshine.

together waking in rainbows,

we are.

I find I have only time to read right now, no new original thoughts from me either - too much distraction.  I wrote this poem out that Silvi wrote for me that I first mentioned back here...

I read it again tonight and the tears just flowed.  It is like a beacon of light in the current limbo that is life right now. This poem is for me and I draw so much for these words, on so many different levels.  I am glad to have stumbled on it right now, it is what I needed and I thank Silvi from the bottom of my broken heart.

***

Faith is a bird that feels dawn breaking and sings while it is still dark ~ Rabindaranath Tagore

Heartfelt

It's going to be a little quite here for a few weeks now.  My father and his partner, Marilyn are visiting us here for three weeks. I haven't got any expectations as to what it is going to be like, I can draw on old experiences, but this is all new territory for all of us now and can only hope for the best.  I do know that it will be nothing like the visit from my mother and her husband, just six short weeks after Elizabeth's birth - had I known how that would be, I'd have cancelled and bailed.  My fingers are crossed in so many ways for so many outcomes.

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I went to the Heartfelt exhibition this morning with A.  This volunteer organisation of photographers in Australia gives the gift of photography to families, not only to those who have experienced the death of their child, but ill, premature infants and terminally or seriously ill children.  This organisation didn't take our photos of Elizabeth, but is the first exhibition I've heard of this kind and will support any and all of them.  We walked around the gallery for an hour drinking in the information separately.  We saw the photographs, we read their stories.  I was fighting the flow of tears and the sizable lump in my throat.  We walked out of there dumbstruck.  I actually walked straight into Hope's Mama who was revisiting the exhibition and managed to fumble a few words.

The exhibition was so powerful.  Reading and seeing those precious photographs, being immersed into their worlds, their pain, their love, their sorrow of the unknown.  It just left me heartbroken for them all.  I felt apart of a bigger 'club'; I'm not the only one who has had to kiss goodbye to their child and that felt oddly comforting to know that I'm walking a very well worn path.  Also reading from the photographers point of view, seeing how they have their own hurdles to overcome, dealing with such an important role with a family.

It took sometime to adjust being back in the living world after being submerged in the sadness, all the while thinking about the children in the pictures and of our Elizabeth.  Something so silly knocked me back into life though - seeing a photo of a fried breakfast in a shop front.  It was a happy plate, eggs for eyes, a tomato nose and a lovely great smiley sausage and I smiled inside and out.  I thought if a plate of food can make me feel better now, then our treasured photographs of our daughter will always bring me close to her.  It was a strange feeling, something just clicked inside and knew that I'm better off not worrying about the future - it'll get here in its own time.

I am still in a strange sort of limbo right now - I can't really feel Elizabeth as powerful as I once did and I can't get close to this new soul yet.  It is just something that I have to accept and work on and going to the exhibition did help me feel that all familiar sadness again.

I carry you in my heart Elizabeth, not in my arms and that is the difficulty I am adjusting to.

Ringing Ears and Whispers

My dearest Elizabeth,

I am finding things hard right now and by 'things', I mean it is hard keeping you close to me.  I always thought it would come as a given that I'd feel you so powerfully, I didn't think I'd have to work so hard.
At the start we were so very close.  Emotions were raw and barely containable, every pore exuded a part of you; that deep sorrow of wanting and missing you, my body aching for you, the mother's love emanated through into my every thought and mental movement of thoughts of what our lives should be.  There was never a moment were I didn't think of you, or have you reminded by something around me.  The raging emotions were so strong and powerful, so loud they were that my ears were ringing and couldn't focus on anything else around me.

And then something happened.  A lot happened, a lot of talking, sharing, planning, writing and working myself towards getting back into my life and it has taken off.  I found myself living that life again and all those strong, raw, loud emotions where slowly getting quieter.  I have been noticing now for awhile that I am missing the 'ringing ears' and I don't like it one bit; I hate it.  Your voice within me is almost a whisper sweet Elizabeth, I have to try hard to listen to it.  It doesn't mean that your not thought of, it has just changed I guess - the Tourette's in my head has settled; the voice in my head that dares me to speck your name out to everyone and anyone is simply gone, and I miss it.

I love you so much baby girl.

I miss our life together, our family unit of you, me and your father.  I will never know what life that one was, but that doesn't stop me from dreaming, wondering and wishing for you to still be here.  I miss getting to know you, finding out who you are.  I miss the fact that I don't know your voice or smile, I don't know where your tickle spots are or your giggles, I don't know your likes or dislikes and I don't know your gaze.  It breaks my heart to know that I don't know anything of who you are Elizabeth.  One day though, I do believe that we will have our time together...

Right now, I am just so scared of leaving you behind Elizabeth, of living my life and just placing you in the background of it.  I don't want to just see your photos around the house, I need to feel you.  I recognise this and will be working harder, writing a new journal just for you, getting on with your tree tapestry and striving to keep you with me always and not just locked up in my heart to feel sad about...

Because that is the crux of it I think; I am lost without all the powerful sadness surrounding me, I don't know this part of grief without it all.  I have to listen carefully to your subtle voice and I don't have to block it out in order to live.

I am loving you Elizabeth and I am listening...

All Is Well

I don't have much to add to that really.
This good news has yet to fully sink in, but we're so very, very relieved.

If anyone is interested I have another page of information about this pregnancy.  It is called the Pumpkin Pages on the left under my profile bit and is where I'll be keeping photos, stats and the like.

**************************

I am also very saddened to hear of a number of other new pregnancies have ended.  My heart goes out to those mothers, I am just so very sorry that they have to go through another loss.  I can only imagine the utter devastation and send so much love and strength to them.

La-la Land & Limbo

Hmm, I'm not sure how to start, but know I need to keep writing here. The longer I leave it, the more tangled and messy the web becomes.

I've been away up country for a getaway with A; it has been lovely. Visiting the wine region, the rain forest, spa treatments and just indulging has been wonderful for us - not to mention very little contact with the outside world.  The fresh cool air, rolling green hills and mountains to make us feel as if we're back in Devon, UK...  To a time of innocence were we didn't know grief - isn't it strange how the feel of a place can conjure all those feelings?

Returning brought me back down with a bump; feeling numb about everything now - Tuesday's scan feels like it'll never get here.  All has been quite in reference to the bleeding, but it is still to be seen how it has, or hasn't effected things.  Trying not to even think about all the pg. related things - its just not happening to me, I have no control.

With this limbo land of not planning ahead (not for this soul or TTC again) I have had other concerns to keep my head awake at night.  Mainly I'm worried about losing all closeness to Elizabeth.  I have only known this grief; this meshed together deep sorrow/hurt/pain and the all encompassing love I have for her. Now what do I do when that slips from my grasp?  Yes, it does become easier to function in the day to day, I can smile, laugh and enjoy things.  I can see bumps and babies (no way newborns and that gives me little comfort) and not be sent into a tailspin....
But with all of that, I have lost touch of all that love I have for my daughter.  It is so tightly woven together this grief - lose one and the other goes too?

There is not an hour that passes that I do not think and miss Elizabeth. Many tears do not reach my eyes, but are ever present in my heart. There is nothing I wouldn't give to have her back in my arms again, alive, fit and well. BUT I know it is just futile thinking about it all like that - she died and she isn't coming back to life. I don't know who I'm missing right now.  I haven't a clue what sort of things an almost 7 month old can do - I am missing the thoughts of who she might be; my perception of my daughter.

As I realise this, I seem to have moved away from her again and that just hurts me more.  I am scared that I'll never feel that love...

Or is that love buried beneath the guilt from living my life still?

I want to live.
I really want to live and feel happiness.
I want and need to feel that mother's love again.
I want to feel my husbands love and return it two fold.
I always want to feel my love outpouring for Elizabeth; her place in my heart secured.

I read Carly's recent post; 'What helped me the most on my journey with grief' and was so speechless with the last paragraph - it just spoke volumes to me and made me realise that this is my uncharted path, and its okay.  Its okay to laugh and find joy again; its not taking anything away from Elizabeth.  I've yet to see how that can be seen as honouring them - I doubt I have that place of mind just yet, but I'm willing to try and not feel guilty for it. Thank you Carly, I really needed to read and feel that today.

And so I wait for Tuesday morning; fingers and toes crossed, a little lighter in the heart too.

May You Always Feel Her Rainbows

After seeing, reading and feeling Leslie's Poem here, I contacted Silvi myself and asked her to write a poem for me and Elizabeth.  I too gave her my blog address and this is what I read and cried to this morning...

I am just speechless really, but so overwhelmingly thankful for these words to me right now - it is what I needed to read and to really feel.  It tells me my words back to me, to keep reminding me that I am not alone, no matter how distant I feel.  To keep on striving to keep Elizabeth with me, to write her name everywhere and see her in the colours around me.  To know she is always with me in my quite stillness, in my laughter and in the whispers of the wind; we are together.

Thank you Silvi, I really did need to feel this right now - Thank you.

The picture behind the poem is 'The Promise', a great double rainbow that was shot just down the Great Ocean Road; this is where A. and I had our sort-of Christmas time.  The significance is heart felt.
Silvi also mentioned a song 'Someone Great' by LCD Sound.system, that I'd not heard of before.  I've listened to it and can see what she means, 'it has the best description of grief'.  It is a powerful song, the more I read those words, the more it sinks in - look to the last verse and words...

For someone who hasn't had to walked this path, Silvi has put on these shoes and walked with me - that is no easy feat.  I am greatly hearted to know that Elizabeth, Taggpole, A. and I will be remembered all the way over in San Francisco.  Thank you Silvi

Pause

Things have ground to a halt here.  I am resting up and recuperating.
I have a wicked head cold that A. had mutated and passed onto me - thanks darling!
It has also started to get cooler and wetter and so being wrapped up in a quilt on the sofa has been preferable to venturing out.  Plans have been changed/cancelled and the slobbing has continued in ernest.

We also had a scare.  There was blood in the toilet bowl, last thing Monday night - not a lot, but too much to ignore; I have a negative blood group and so would need the Anti D (only after 12 weeks it turns out, I was 6 weeks and a day).  So we made the command decision to wait it out until the morning and head to the hospital first thing.  That was after A. (being an emergency doctor) was scouring through the hospital website finding out courses of action to our situation (very handy having that website and him who could understand it all).  We didn't sleep a wink that night, we talked of Elizabeth a lot and we talked of our hopes and dreams for this new soul and just tired to comfort each other.

It was horrid going back to that hospital, going through the emergency entrance, waiting in those same uncomfortable chairs with all those other expectant parents - the last time I was right there, Elizabeth was alive and healthy inside...

We called ahead and they already had my notes, they took a short history and were sad for us - I just wanted to scream at them 'you can't do anything for Elizabeth now, but get your arses into gear now, there is still time to act with this one!'.  I know there is nothing you can do to prevent a miscarriage if its going to happen; it was just the look of pity she gave us and her inactivity - 'Do Something!'

More waiting.  Beta hCG was good so we went off for an ultrasound. There was no flashbacks to Taggpole's ultrasound, there was no real conscious thought or worries about molar or ectopic pregnancies - just a holding of breath, waiting.  Of course you can't see a thing from the position we're in and had to judge by the looks on the sonographer and A's faces.

After some clicking of buttons and moving the probe about, Viv said 'today, everything looks good'.  She turned the monitor around and began showing us what was what; the gestational sac, the yolk sac, the fetal pole and to our amazement the flickering of a heartbeat.  Our new soul was just 3mm and it's heart was beating 95 beats per minute; all bang on for just over 6 weeks.   She checked my tubes and ovaries (I ovulated from the right side this time and saw the corpus luteum), but there was no evidence to say where the blood had originated from; there was a lot of it pooled around the gestational sac.  While she said everything looked good today, she couldn't say how all that extra blood would act on the pregnancy - it might get reabsorbed, or not...
All being well, we are to go back for a follow up scan in two weeks.

I wanted to get this all down here, as I can't really talk about this in real life.  We're not telling anyone, especially our families before we have to and that won't be until my father comes out to visit next month - might be able to keep it secret still?  I'm sure many don't want to know about all the ins and outs of this pregnancy, but this is for me; this is My Space.

I must admit that now I am seeing things in daylight again - the greys and shades of twilight have been banished.  When I saw all that blood, I just thought 'game over' and was back to a place of dark desperation.  We huddled together and talked openly about Elizabeth, something that doesn't happen all that often really and it was good.  Since having seen all that we have now and having reached and opened up in the darkness again, I can only conclude there is only an upward motion to go in now.
 
I feel closer to this new soul, its not just something happening to me and I feel some what connected.  This is not Elizabeth; this is her little brother or sister and I'm so in love with him/her already.  I think this is as good as its going to get, I've not got either on my mind all the time - dare I say it, but I feel this is a 'normal' for me now.  Elizabeth will always be in my heart, she will always be in my past, my present and future - but she is not here physically.  Neither is this new soul yet and life strides onward.

So here I will sit, cozy in blankets with a big box of tissues and a hot black current juice, keeping my fingers crossed and hoping.

Shades Of Grey

I am unclear of what to write here, I am without many words, many thoughts and emotions

I am a grieving mother, six and a half months out from the death of her first born daughter
I am an expectant mother, seven and a half months from birthing another precious soul.  The latter said with an air of wishful thinking...

Here right now, I'm surrounded with all the shadows and shades of grey
There is no thorough darkness to hide in my grief and sorrow
There is no bright light of hope and confidence in my body or this new soul
There is no balance, no equilibrium, no easy middle ground

I am still
I am calm
I am just waiting with a heavy heart

Not for the shit to hit the fan
Not for the next hurdle to jump
Not even for the months and weeks to zoom by

I am waiting to feel again and that is what is unsettling, unnerving me now.  It is by no means a conscious effort to push these things from my head and heart.  It just hasn't been realised yet, that things have changed so drastically

Life is still in action mode
I am still in action mode
I'm not ready to think about all this too deeply yet

When ever I do think of Elizabeth, it comes with the knowledge that I am carrying her sibling. One isn't separated from the other and I want to give myself over to just memories and remembrances of Elizabeth, or just wishes and dreams for this new soul - to either have that all consuming darkness of grief, or the shining hope that I can feed from and rest assured by it.  I am not ready for the opposite poles of emotion; to split myself, and I'm not wanting to get my babies mixed up in each others places within my heart...  They are different souls.

I am confused and I am left feeling numb in a place of varying shades of grey.  I know I have to relax into this place, not to fight it and things will change on its own.  But I am afraid of growing further away from my precious girl; my Elizabeth Layne.  I am scared that I'll not realise and know the joy of the here and now - I am so scared of not feeling.

Smell Association

I brought the wrong body wash.
The one I did buy was the old one I'd used 'before'.
There I was in the shower with my scratchy mitts on, the next moment I was transported backward in time...

Having carefully undressed my mother's body, I'd set the temperature to just bearable; not too hot for my empty, swollen body.  I was still so raw, so numb, so sore and I'd have to be so careful around that red and angry scar.  The hole where the drain came out and the knot of that long, single disposable stitch - maybe if I'd knocked it, I would unravel entirely?

I'd wash myself on autopilot almost with my eyes closed and startling myself when something hurt - everything hurt!  The scar.  My whole chest with the delayed milk that came in the week after that pill. My face and eyes from all the tissues, tears and sleepless nights.  But mainly it was my heart that I was so wary of in the shower - you see there is a huge mirror in our bathroom; it takes up most of a wall and that makes it very difficult not to see oneself.  While in there my eyes were always averted; always looking downward or closed - I couldn't look at myself.

To physically see the pain in my broken and ripped apart body, to see how the look of grief distorted my face, to see what was felt on the inside starring at back me; that was more than I could bare and made it only more real.  The hunted, empty, pained look in my eyes, it was worse seeing that same look in A's...

From the inside I could shut it all out, fool myself for a few seconds of relief and feel I could deal with the full horror - if only I didn't look in that damned mirror.  Maybe I could get away with thinking that it all happened to someone else and my precious baby girl was still within me and thriving?

And I guess she is in a way too.  My Elizabeth isn't gone from me now and never will be.  She will forever reside in my heart safe and sound, protected and knowing such powerful love I have for her.

So I've not charged out to buy new body wash, now that I've explored these feelings.  I am glad to have remembered them.  It seems very strange for me to say that, but Elizabeth seems so far away from me now and these reminders of the raw times brings me closer to her again, along with all that heartache and pain.  While I don't associate this particular body wash with 'before' Elizabeth's birth and all its excitement, I know and recall those first early memories/emotions from just 'after'.

With Thanks

There is new light in my life, I thought that My Space should reflect that.  I'm not surrounded in darkness anymore and my emotions aren't as raw as a hot, electric fence.  I am calm for now and have a shining bright light up ahead; this I will keep my eyes and focus on.

I want to thank everyone for there heartfelt comments and well wishes - thank you.  It really means so much to know how much I'm supported and to have you all share this new chapter with me.  I know its not all going to be sunshine and roses, but will try my hardest to find those things and to keep myself in the here and now.

Thank you

We Are Three

I am pregnant.

It is really early days and have just in this past week tested and found out, this new soul is due on Halloween.  Its not been an easy choice to share this here, I can't hide from this pregnancy in my head, heart or writing and that is fact and so I need and want to write about here in My Space.

It is taking its time to settle within me and it doesn't compute yet.  I've spent so long wanting it, working (read: obsessing) toward another pregnancy and figuring out how I'm supposed to live this life without my newborn daughter in my arms - that is it taking its own sweet time for me to realise that I am here carrying a new soul. Please don't get me wrong, we are so over the moon about it all, it is what we've wanted, planned and hoped for a long time - even longer when you consider that we've been trying for a baby for two years now.  So this is my third pregnancy and its not yet sunk into my thick skull, nor penetrating my thickening skin.

As with anything like this; with all the hurdles to jump and the long winded approach to the finishing line of holding a full term, healthy, happy, live baby; sights are always set to the next hurdle, the next blood test, the scan, the hospital appointments, hearing the heartbeat etc.  I need to try with all my might to take each day as it comes.  Celebrate the fact that I am pregnant today, be happy and grateful and try keep my focus on the here and now, rather than projecting myself into an unknown future and stressing out.

I went to a 'Support During Pregnancy' group just two days ago and was quite honestly scared by the two mothers that were there.  They were both in their second trimester and had a scare of some sort (bleed or prolonged lack of movement) and the first thing they admitted to thinking was arranging another funeral.  Which just writing about that here makes sense now, but when they were telling their stories in all their full bumped glory; their pessimism just horrified me.  I'll not be going back there, I don't need anymore ideas on 'what else could go wrong' thank you.

Life is still full on for me, it just seems like I'm always on the go and don't have much time for thinking, writing here, taking stock and growing mentally as I have been used to these past 6 months.  I am in an action phase, wanting to get me going again in the outside world and actually getting enjoyment from it all.  I have many things planned, with more appointments coming and have added swimming into the mix too - which for me is a big thing; going back to the same pool that I loved swimming with my Elizabeth bump.  The thought that got me back there? The fact that I wanted to share the swimming with this new soul too, I didn't want to wait any longer, I wanted that enjoyment for today and I really did enjoy myself.

Everything changes and I guess this Space will too, it will evolve with me as I make space for this new soul in my heart and life along side Taggpole and Elizabeth, not forgetting my awesome husband.  I guess that goes for everyone in my life too, here especially.  I don't think I could be here if it wasn't for the love, support, understanding, guidance and encouragement from the fellow Baby Loss Mamas - and for that I'll be forever grateful; thank you.

With this news from me, I can't help but feel so utterly heartbroken and torn up with Leslie's news.  She has been so much to me, we connected and made a friendship for life - words fail me here, but you get the gist; she has been my companion on this new path, a light and a gentle coaxing voice and I hate so much that she is going through this again.  I'm just so sorry dear friend, my heart, thoughts and wishes are with you...

For your little bird Leslie

Six Months Remembering

I really don't have many words today

It is a numb feeling, a wronged feeling

I miss you baby girl, my beautiful Elizabeth Layne

I wish with all of me that everything was different

I wish you were here in my arms, in your father's arms

I find you in the bright colours and quite places

I also find you in the heavy and dark clouds

You are here in my heart, your resting place forever with me

I do not feel alone and I smile sadly at that thought

I love you so very, very much my darling girl

You know my heart as well as I do

Ringing Ears

This post has been started in my head about a million times - could I get here to write?  Na.  Life has taken over these past few weeks, over taken my need to grieve and that in itself is a hard pill to swallow.  It goes without saying that I'm okay; I'm actually functioning better than I have done in the past six months and feel as if I'm moving forward now.

I was very reluctant to embrace these new feelings of relief to begin with, fighting all these emotions and actually finding it very difficult to know what they all were. It was like the emotions were all shouting at me, but I couldn't focus on a single voice and so couldn't make out any of them in the deafening noise.  So, I just buried my head in the sand and got on with doing and planning things and gave my emotions the middle finger - I knew it would all come to the surface again and I'd have to deal with it them later.

Anyway, a lot has happened in the past two weeks, the main focus being family issues with A's sister and her husband - the result of events happened being we want to hurt/kill/chop his bits off! He has been a fucking bastard and my heart goes out to her and their daughter.  It is just a really bad situation and has taken up a lot of mental energy thinking how she is to best get through this.
There has also been other news of new pregnancies to get my head around. It was hard at first, but can honestly say I can't be happier for them and totally have my fingers crossed for them.

Then there is all the juggling and planning of the small things:

• Getting my haircut - A. booked it for me, with his male hairdresser and I was surprised at how gentle and attentive he was to me.  Plus my hair looks good when I can be arsed to blow dry it and its too short to just be tied back now. Thank you A.
• Starting back at Yoga - wow did I ache, but I am so glad I have started again and will continue too.  It was also lovely to share Elizabeth with my teacher, who didn't shy away from wanting to know all about her; I felt like a proud Ma again. Thank you J.
• Group meetings - I am always surprised how light I feel after being able to talk openly with others who are in the same boat, I am forging new friendships there and it is a lovely feeling.
• Music gigs of both Lamb and L.Cole - I L.O.V.E Lamb and saw them this time last year; my ears were ringing all night and my throat horse.  L.C; was for A. and that was an experience in itself (not my cup of tea).
• Arranging meals out and/or getaways/cards and remembrance for anniversaries and birthdays - there are lots coming up; Taggpole's due-date, Step-dad's birthday, our wedding anniversary, my birthday, friends birthdays and house warming gatherings and there is Elizabeth's six months just days away.
• Meetings with J - it is always good talking with her and always great seeing another perspective from someone who doesn't fully 'get it', yet tries so hard.
• Hospital and acupuncture appointments - Dr Thyroid says levels couldn't be better and my thyroid dose is spot on. Yeah!  The weekly harpooning appointments are getting more attentive too.
• Ignoring Valentines Day - not so much making it a day for cards or big gestures, but making quality time with each other; which is a little tough seeing as he is working nights and is furiously studying for an important exam at the end of the week.
• All the TTCing - yes, it does need careful planning too when he is working all those night shifts.
• Having my days merge into each other - again down to the three weeks of the nights.
• Catching up with TV - lots of new series are back on and am getting square eyes and a flat butt.
• Going clothes shopping - I must have chucked a third of my wardrobe out and was left with every little to wear and with the changing seasons I seriously needed more clothes; Oh I love the Gap and it was a really good shopping trip.
• Gearing up for visitors from home - my Pa and M are visiting for all of April.  A mix of excitement and dread; with excitement winning I think.
• Dealing with little contact from my family - talking to some is quite hard; its as if we're on two different planets and there is no middle ground and so I keep them at arms length for now.
• Arranging penny pinching outings for me to do - going to VG lots, booking free tickets to silly things, being a part of TV shows audiences, exploring new suburbs and just getting out and about into the fresh air.
• Looking into job opportunities and different avenues - setting up job alerts, joining a 'mystery shopping' agency, looking into on-line surveys and volunteer work, and updating my CV(still).
• Oh, and reading fiction books and giving myself a break from the whole BLM on-line community for a little bit.

I think the last one has been a relief for me, in limiting the amount of time I spend in other people's worlds and just concentrating on my own for awhile.  While it is true that I have gained a new perspective from reading new blogs, it is all tinged with the sadness of losing a beloved baby and sometimes I just need to shut all of it out.
I have barely enough energy for my own emotions and by that I mean my grief.  I'm not saying that I shut Elizabeth out of my mind; quite the contrary, its not with the heavy heart that I remember or miss her with just now.  I'm not sure if this is a new corner that I have turned, but I'm feeling okay within myself and I think I'm functioning the day to day well and dipping my toes into the BLM land again.  I'm not crippled with remembering or missing her and I know Elizabeth knows my heart.  I'm trying to see the good things and not have the sadness surrounding her death taint everything in my life - I do have so much to be grateful for.

I am still learning to go with the flow when it comes to my feelings, so will ride this particular high for as long as it'll hold me, knowing full well that all things change eventually.

A Strange Sense of Deja Vu?

The leaves on the tree outside the bedroom window are dropping, so when the sun comes up in the morning there are rainbows from the cut glass windows showing themselves on our bed. The nights are drawing in and the days are more often grey. They are cooler too and find myself wearing more layers, those same clothes that would fit comfortably over my blossoming bump.

It is fast becoming the sixth month of remembering, and the seasons are changing back again.  It is hitting me with such force of deja vu; I recognise the trees without their leaves, the way the light has changed when I wake up and the need of an extra blanket at night.

But then I think back and those feelings are so very different.
I think to the time when I noticed the leaves were budding on the trees and know that was those first few days after returning home without Elizabeth; curled up in a sobbing ball on the bed staring out of the window, wondering why anything was thriving when my daughter wasn't.  Such changes, such profound changes....

I am then caught going back further to those wonderful thoughts of what it was like to be anticipating Elizabeth's arrival, all those hopes and dreams, flurries of activity, the innocence and blissful ignorance for life 'before'.  Oh, how I look back at those times with such aching fondness and I know I'll never have those times again, so I cherish them close to me now.  If only I could substitute those bright memories for the fatal flashbacks; I seem to be getting a lot of them recently.  Thinking about it now, I can't see the trigger to them; they pop out of nowhere in the most innocent of situations.


I am taking the first steps of this new action plan - getting me back on a track of life.  It seems like lots of small steps; doing little things for me and for A. but mainly working towards getting me in a better place.  I don't think the big changes are quite within my grasp just yet, I haven't the first clue about what I actually want to do job-wise, but am updating my CV which is a start.

I have also been cooking, baking and making in the kitchen (although making cookie dough to freeze and eat, can't really be called 'baking') and have carefully decided what day I will to return to Yoga (it clashed with acupuncture this week).  I am also scouring the internet for some sort of swimming/aqua-fit classes, it is a daunting thing to be quite frank; not having a clue about all these places and I just have to dive in and hope that I don't get put off by anything on the way.  Thanks for the encouraging comments about starting to exercise again, in openly 'talking' about it, it has moved forward from just planning.

I have come to realise that feeling okay in the day to day isn't a bad thing and certainly not something to feel guilty about.  Elizabeth knows my heart and that will never change - on so many levels. I am feeling better able to cope and I can/do appreciate the seemingly easy days.  It is good to look back and see just how far I've come from those dark, raw days and be able to see healing and progress into this new life.  And I do look at the near naked trees with anticipation and hope again.

Marking Time

I feel as if I'm marking time now.
Just waiting to live again and it all hinges on getting pregnant.

Once I'm pregnant I'll get back into swimming and yoga; getting myself fit again.
Once I'm pregnant I'll get back into the swing of heading out into the world, meeting new people and not being afraid of bumping into all the old triggers; mainly bumps and babes.
Once I'm pregnant I'll have something to smile about and a purpose again.
Once I'm pregnant I'll make a proper routine for myself; work and down times.
Once I'm pregnant I'll take more interest in getting creative, cooking, looking after and bettering myself.
Once I'm pregnant I can start planning for a bright future again.

Who knows what I'll could be feeling about all of the above when and if I do get pregnant and this attitude is just getting me nowhere fast right now.  The more I want to be pregnant, the more stress and pressure I'm putting on myself and that sure doesn't help with the getting pregnant bit.

I think this spate of unease is triggered by the fact that I need to find structure to my day and the fact that I need something else to consider other than this grief.  I am feeling this unease due to restlessness, frustration, boredom and a whole lot more frustration - that I can't move on with my life until I am pregnant and of course I have no control over that.  But what if I can remove the goal posts and I take the whole pregnancy thing out of the equation? I have this whole list of things that I want to do and have control over, so why not just get myself out there and do?

I know that finding a job has got to be on the cards also, I can't just keep putting that off.  Since moving over seas a year and a half ago, I have always thought that I'd be a stay at home Ma - two pregnancies down and no children to stay at home with; I know I should get my arse into gear and get a job (and by a job I just mean something that I quite enjoy and pays the bills; I'm not really needing a career).

The thought of 'what if I never get pregnant?' is running around my head, it is unrelenting these past few days and I'm scared that I'll always be marking time.  I don't want to just be waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen to and for me.  I want to live, I want to better myself and be included in the world - I can't just give up, I can't just wither and end up a shell of the woman I was...

I don't want the death of my beloved daughter, to be the death of me too.

I need a plan of action and that is me sewing the seeds