A lifetime in a day...

It’s been a while…

Somewhat of an understatement, I know. Like I hinted back in March and April, I have so much to tell you. I’ve had so much to tell you for months and months, but the underlying terror of jinxing myself, even in these later months, has been enough to keep me silent in here. Especially since this blog was born from the deepest and darkest heartbreak I’ve ever known.

But I think it’s time…

I’m about to become a mother. Again. But this time the story is so much happier. I’ve made it to 39 weeks. Actually, 39 weeks and 5 days. I’m due in two days. This Friday. Whether or not this little one actually arrives on Friday remains to be seen. I’m hoping for sooner… bracing myself for later… but waiting with bated breath for signs that the smallest thing I’ve ever put my whole life into is finally on their way.

At first we were terrified. I was fully expecting a repeat of Peanut’s story. When I found out in late March that I was pregnant, it took me a week of testing and watching that line get darker before I would actually believe it. When we had our first appointment in late April, I was convinced that we wouldn’t have a heartbeat. I was in tears in the waiting room, and scared to look at the ultrasound. The relief at being shown a strong heartbeat and correct measurements was overwhelming – frightened tears became happy tears, and our gorgeous ob, the same ob who guided us through last year’s heartbreak, was visibly thrilled for us. Maybe this would be the one?

Being the nervous nellie that I am, we had fortnightly appointments for a while to keep a close eye on growth and development. It was still hard to comprehend that this was what a healthy, normal pregnancy was like. Peanut’s devastating early ultrasound images were burned into my subconscious, so in contrast, seeing visible development into a baby was surreal. Even now, I look at those early images and pinch myself. I can’t believe this miracle has finally happened to us.

We were too scared to tell anyone early after last time – only a tiny handful of absolute closest friends knew (for moral support purposes) and were sworn to secrecy. We told my family on Mother’s Day – I was 11 weeks by then. I was 11 weeks when we lost Peanut last year. I was terrified of history repeating itself, but Mother’s Day was too perfect an opportunity, and the scans were reassuring. And the reaction was priceless! We told Kym’s family on the afternoon of our 12-week scan. We told everyone else at 13 weeks.

This baby is called Thumper. Our little rabbit. We needed a cute rabbit name – it is still the Year of the Rabbit after all. We have no idea if we’re having a boy or a girl. We both decided we wanted a surprise (much to the frustration of many of our friends, hahaha!). I guess we’ll find out very soon now. We’re both thinking girl… but it’s entirely likely that we are wrong! We have a name picked for each… I can’t wait to finally give Thumper a real name.

I’ve been lucky really – I’ve had a pretty smooth pregnancy. Morning sickness has been kind to me (compared to many!) and I finally hung up my Zumba shoes on Monday at 39+3 which I am very proud of. I’m already missing it and can’t wait to be back, but realistically that probably won’t happen until the new year. I had a small scare (bleed) at 29 weeks which turned out to be harmless, and in recent weeks my ankles have exploded – but overall I have been very lucky.

And now it’s time. I’m due this week. Kym is so excited, it melts my heart – I know he will be an amazing daddy, and I cannot wait to see him holding his child for the first time. I’m excited too – that goes without saying! I cannot wait to finally meet this little person who has held such a huge place in our hearts since before they were conceived.

But I’m going to miss my bump. A lot! I can honestly say I have loved being pregnant. Despite the early anxiety, the tiredness, the having to give up so many foods I love, the blood tests, the swollen ankles, the not fitting into the majority of my wardrobe, and the tiptoeing around friends who are in the same place I was in last year – I have cherished every moment and I’m not quite sure I’m ready for it to be over yet. I will treasure these last days.

And I’ll be honest. I’m nervous. I have no idea how I’m going to handle childbirth. I hope I’ll be okay – but it’s a huge unknown and it’s frightening. I don’t know how Kym is going to handle seeing me in pain. I’m nervous for him as much as I am for me. And I worry about being a good mum. I hope I’ve got what it takes. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, but this little person is going to be entirely dependent on me. And that’s a frightening responsibility. Frightening, but also the greatest honour and blessing I could ever imagine.

And this makes me wonder… about Peanut. Whether she was sent to help me with this. Because whenever the anxiety sets in and I find myself starting to internally panic about the pain of childbirth or the responsibility of being a mother, I remember Peanut. And I remember that nothing – nothing – could ever be as painful or traumatic as last year was. No amount of physical pain or exhaustion could ever come close to matching that level of emotional pain. And that is strangely comforting. Last year I’d have given anything to be in this situation. Peanut’s memory is helping me to keep the fears in perspective, and stay centred and in control. My little angel is here – I can feel her here so strongly, and I know she is here to get me through the days ahead and help guide her little sister or brother into the world. And it feels like I’ve come full circle. I still cry so much for Peanut (the screen is blurry as I write this) but now, finally, there are happy tears mixed in with the sad. Because I am feeling incredibly blessed to have such a beautiful little guardian angel watching over Thumper and I.

I’ve always believed firmly that everything happens for a reason. A friend told me last year that ‘one day all of this will make sense’. She was right.

(having said that, good vibes for a positive and empowering birth experience would be very much appreciated!)

I promise you won’t have to wait nine months for my next update!

Still here ;)

I haven't forgotten you!

I've just been busy. And biding my time :)

Soon. I promise.

<3

So much to tell you

I have... so much to tell you.

Soon.

Very soon.

Birth guess

It's so stupid, the things that set me off.

Like today it hit me, had things gone the way they were supposed to, there would have been a thread on the forum for my birth guesses by now.

But things didn't go the way they were supposed to.

And I have no birth guesses thread.

And I'll be sad as I start to see birth guesses for the other Autumn girls. Even though I'm happy for them. But I'm only human. And it hurts.

So I'm doing my own birth guess.

She would have been a girl. Of course. 8 pounds. And born on her due date - Saturday 5 March 2011.

I wonder if I would have been right?

Bloody hell Steph, stop torturing yourself, seriously :(

PS: Remember Kayla? Pregnant girl at work? She had a little girl. On Friday night. I'm happy for her, I really am. But I should have been next...

A bit much

It's all a bit much really.

So 'Fixy February' didn't quite go down the way I hoped. Although my new job is going well (a thousand times better than the old one!) and mostly things are cruising along nicely in the world of Kym & Steph. Mostly. So that's all good, I guess.

I know a lot of people thought this would be our month. Even I thought the same, to be honest. Especially when I had four straight days of queasiness last week. I didn't test, and I didn't get my hopes up (I've learned my lesson there) but I had a good feeling about it. Until Thursday night. When I started spotting.

And tried so hard to convince myself that it was nothing. So, so hard. Reminded myself that it's not uncommon to bleed in early pregnancy. Told myself it was implantation bleeding (conveniently ignoring the other details that clearly told me it wasn't...). Went to bed screaming to God and hammering on Heaven's door for reassurance.

And when I woke up on Friday morning, I was scared to get up. I didn't want to see more blood. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to face it.

But I did. And there it was. All over for another month.

I didn't even have the energy to cry at first. It was just a crushing, suffocating disappointment. I got ready in a fog. It broke my heart to tell Kym once again.

It wasn't until I'd been at work for about an hour or so that I hid in the toilets and allowed the tears to fall.

Why?!!

I can't believe what this has become.

So. Maybe March will be our month. It's funny really, how I always said that we would never try in March, because a March conception would mean a December bub, and December is too close to Christmas. If I'd only known! December/January was always the time I didn't want to give birth, being so close to Christmas, plus my amazing ob is always away in January and I'm iffy about her back-up.

But... what will be will be. Que sera sera. If the universe wants to give me a baby for Christmas, then I'm not going to argue. We'll figure something out. If my ob is away, then I'll just have to trust that she'll leave me in good hands. One thing I've learned from all this is that there are many things I can't control. Letting go is hard, but I seem to be getting better at it...

But I do wish that it would just happen. I was supposed to be giving birth to Peanut in less than two weeks. The 5th of March is going to be an extremely hard day, and even more so because there is absolutely no sign of her coming back to us yet. I don't know how I'm going to cope yet, I really don't. I have blocked out March for so long, and the fact that it is now so close is scaring the hell out of me.

They say that God only gives us as much as we can cope with. I hope they're right.

less talky, more fixy

I fixed my blog :)

Yes, I knew the background was gone. At first I thought it was just a Firefox thing as it had been working fine in IE. But then I realised that it was in fact cactus, and my pretty heart-shaped box was more of a pale grey slab. Rather uninspiring. But I didn't have the time, energy, or inclination to do anything about it. Til tonight. When I went back onto Hot Bliggity Blog and grabbed the new code. It took me less than one minute. Not sure what all my procrastination was for, really. But anyway. All better now. One day I will have talent and will make my own blog background. But in the meantime I really do like this one.

And while we're on the topic of fixing things, my darling Kym (aka Help Desk) has fixed my computer. It was meant to be an upgrade. Instead it turned into a week-long wipe-everything-and-reinstall drama. But it's all good now :)

I'm hoping this is the month for fixing things.

Of course there is the obvious one. Which I'm not supposed to be thinking about... *lalalalala*

Then the fact that yesterday was my LAST DAY in the job-of-my-dreams-that-I-hated. Monday I start in a new section. Short term but hopefully it will lead to more. I am so relieved. I know it won't be easy. But just the change of scenery alone is enough to make me feel reborn.

Then I start my digital video editing course next weekend at the WEA. Very very excited about that!! The first steps towards what will hopefully become my next career.

And then there is my knee. The knee that I injured in late October. The knee injury that devastated me as it meant I had to cut back on Zumba. I don't think I've blogged properly about Zumba yet. Still trying to find the words to do it justice! But just know that Zumba was (still is!) my therapy. I need to be there. I look forward to it all the time. I can't get enough of it. It is as much an emotional need as a physical one. So the prospect of cutting back was pretty upsetting. I was mostly obedient - took a couple of weeks off (okay, 12 days) and then followed doctor's orders and went no more than twice a week (okay, so maybe three is the new two...). Been seeing the physio and went back to Zumba four times a week after new years. So far so good. It's not right yet. It still hurts. Especially in squats, and on stairs. But it is slowly improving. So here's hoping this month will be full of knee-fixy as well. I would love to be able to do a pain-free Zumba class again sometime (don't get me started on my heel pain. No, seriously, don't).

Might need to do something special for Valentines Day as well. Because I'm feeling mushy and I think we deserve it...

So there we go. Happy Fixy February.

But I'm still scared of facing March.

Now I can talk about it

I can talk about it now.

I really thought January was going to be our month. I was positive. And I was so positive. For the first time since 15 August last year, I was almost happy. It could have just been the relief at being able to try again at last. Either way, it was pretty awesome.

And I waited with anticipation for 20 January. That would be The Date when I would know. Marked on my calendar as 'Fingers Crossed' surrounded by love hearts. But I couldn't resist. I tested a couple of days early. And got a faint positive. It was enough to get me excited. Tested again on the 20th. Another faint positive. Possibly fainter than the first? Hmm... tried not to worry about it... but did. It reminded me too much of those weeks after our first ob appt last year. When she was measuring too small. Even though friends gave words of reassurance, I knew deep down that something wasn't right. And here I was again. Deep down, knowing something wasn't right.

Tested again on Sat morning. Borderline negative. I willed that line with all my heart. Waited patiently, then not-so-patiently. WHERE ARE YOU?!! But I knew. I already knew. I just didn't want to believe it. I couldn't accept it. And then the cramping and bleeding began. And I knew it was over. Before it had really begun. And I cried all morning, cried as though my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. Because it was.

Part of me was relieved that, if it had to happen, it happened now rather than 11 weeks down the track like last time. But part of me was sadder for this reason. Because it feels harder to acknowledge this one. I want to acknowledge this little angel just as I acknowledged Peanut. But she seems to have existed in my heart only - even Kym can't really accept that she was real. But to me she was real. I've now lost two babies. But I feel like a drama queen even saying that - because I don't think this little one really 'counts' in the eyes of everyone else. Doesn't that sound terrible? I guess it was just too early. But I love her so much. Like I said once before, where there is love, there is life. Even if sometimes that love isn't enough.

Fly free little one ~ you are in my heart always

The last week has been hard.

Australia Day was hard. Fun, but hard. I'm okay with babies and little kids, but I struggle with seeing pregnant women. I guess I never made it far enough to make that mental shift from being pregnant to actually having a child. So I'm grieving for my lost pregnancy, rather than for my lost baby... if that makes any sense. But I have a lot of pregnant friends right now. Friends who are extremely dear to me. Friends that I would move heaven and earth for. Friends that I wish nothing but happiness and blessings on. I cherish them. And I cherish this time of their lives. I do not want to spoil it or even dampen it with my own emotions. This is their moment.

But god it's hard :( Sometimes it is easier not to talk, than to risk breaking down. There is so much unsaid, because I just can't say it yet. So much I want to say, but I'm just not ready. I don't want to cry. I don't want them to feel sad or guilty. I don't want them to know anything but the joyful innocence of a healthy pregnancy. And I don't want them to hear my voice catching, or see the shadows in my eyes. So it's easier not to talk. Or to avoid the topic. It's not because I don't care. It's because I do. Please understand :(

But I'm doing my best.

But today was bad. I spent a fairly large chunk of the morning at work in tears. And when I got to the stage where I couldn't stop the tears, I went outside for a walk. The riverbank was deserted, as is often the case in 40+ degree weather. So I enjoyed both the warmth and the privacy. Today it really hit me. I was supposed to be having a baby in a little over a month's time. It's almost February. February is a short month. After February comes March. Peanut was due on 5th March. Until now I had blocked it out. I just couldn't touch the thought of March. It was too raw. Way too painful. It was just safer not to look. But now March is there. It's in a box in the corner of the February page of my calendar. It's almost here. I can't stop it and I can't block it out any longer. But when I think of it my throat tightens and I feel sick. I don't know how I'm going to cope. I don't know if I can. I know I don't have a choice, but I don't know how to deal with this.

Everyone told me not to worry about March. That I'd be pregnant again by then. I have my doubts, to be honest. I guess it's because I'm afraid to get my hopes up now. I don't think I could cope with another disappointment like this. I hope that February will be our month. But at the same time I am afraid to hope. I'm not supposed to be thinking about it (ha!). Relax and it will happen (yeah right...). I wish I could just switch off to it. I wish I couldn't care. But not caring about this? That's a bit like asking me to stop loving Kym or to start liking Winter. Sooo not going to happen.

So I'm plodding along. Trying to cope as best I can. Some days I am almost normal. Other days I'm just numb to the world. But I'm still here. I guess that's a victory.

A very wise friend told me about positive thinking. I'm trying to embrace it. I need it. I need to focus on the good things to help me ride the sadness waves. And there are good things. I'm working hard to keep myself distracted and busy, and it seems to be working - there are lots of good things, if I can only keep focused on them. Things like:

A miracle pregnancy for one of my dearest friends - how can I let this break my heart when it is so special and so deserved? Simple - I can't. If it can happen to them, it can happen to us. I'm trying to draw hope from this, rather than sadness.

My beautiful network of friends. Messages checking up on me. Offers to keep me company if I need it. Hugs on tap. Surprise cards and gifts in the mail. You beautiful girls keep me afloat when I feel like I'm drowning. I love you all so much and am so grateful for you all.

I have to make mention of a very special pair of yellow booties that arrived in the mail today. I've been told that they are very potent :) Let's hope they work :) Thank you B :)

Zumba. My escape. It's the best fun I've had since my days of eventing on Delta. The music, the moves, and most of all, the amazing girls I've met. Zumba is the highlight of my week, and I credit it for keeping me sane when nothing else will work.

Scrapbooking. My addictive hobby. I have some big projects on the go, and am enjoying it so much. It's even better with friends, and I treasure Friday night scrapping workshops at K's place. I can't wait to see my efforts come together. Lots to look forward to there.

My mum. She's getting better. My only wish for so many years has been for her to get better. And slowly she is. My wish has come true. Wishes DO come true.

Loui. No matter how bad the day has been or how exhausted I am, he's there. Faithful, true, and neighing for his dinner. And even though he loves to stress me out with random injuries and his apparent refusal to gain weight (damn skinny TBs!) he is my boy and I wouldn't be without him. I guess he is just training me to be a good mum.

Last but certainly never least. Kym. My other half, my soulmate, and the love of my life. I know he is grieving just as much as I am - just in a different way. And I know how lucky I am to have such a supportive husband. He's amazing. He treats me so well. And he's understanding, even when he doesn't really understand. I don't know if that makes any sense. But I don't know how else to explain it. He's just the best. I feel so blessed to be his wife. And I know he is going to be an amazing dad when the time comes.

When.

So there you go. Now I can talk about it. Now I have talked about it. Now I'm trying to look ahead. February is a new month. A new cycle. A new chance. I hope and pray it will be our month. But if not, then I just have to look back at this blog post to remember everything I have to be grateful for. Surely anything else in life should be a bonus?

That said, babydust donations would be gratefully accepted. Because I'm only human. And although I'm not supposed to be thinking about it... I can't seem to help myself.