Psychological?!!!!!

Oh my goodness gracious me, do some people never learn? My husband is a lovely man, a good bloke, a kind guy, generally exemplary in his caring of me. I've hardly been able to fault him recently. But today, he let himself down. I'm partly laughing about it, partly smarting a little. I told him I was feeling a little bit sick already, especially yesterday arvo and this morning till around 1030. Just seedy. What do you think he said? On our 5th pregnancy after nearly 7 years of marriage. "Do you think it's just psychological since you know you're pregnant?" Is he for REAL?!! He regretted saying it nearly immediately because my response wasn't pretty. I may have had a mini-tantrum. Might've nearly cried even. "No babe, no, I don't think that. I found out I was pregnant a week ago and I've been fine. On your theory, that would not have been the case. I actually feel sick because that's what pregnancy hormones do to me. Not the baby...the baby doesn't need to be even alive for me to be sick. My hormones do it. Are you for real asking me that after how you've seen me be before?!! SHEEZ!" Pause while I digested his question and he stumbled over his great apology of ever daring say that. Then, "How dare you say that? How dare you and all those other men and women who don't suffer this think that we are having psychologically sickness just because we know we are pregnant? What...when you drink copious amounts of alcohol one night then wake up with the worst hangover ever the next day, do you just psychologically think you are feeling sick because you know how much you drank? NO!! You really do feel sick and gross because the alcohol made your body that way. JUST LIKE PREGNANCY HORMONES DO TO ME!!!!!" And on that, with him still apologising and trying to bite back that one question that escaped his mouth, I rested my case. And I hope that sometime in the next few weeks, he is in my way when I need to vomit and I can show him just how PSYCHOLOGICAL 'morning sickness' is! P.S. 'MORNING sickness'?! Really, MORNING? Is that all? Oh how lovely that would be! Even the name of it downplays the feeling of it. Now wonder we have no hope in ever having true sympathy from anyone who hasn't been there. P.P.S. This does not in any way downplay my happiness about being pregnant and (hopefully) adding a third baby to our family. It's just par for the course, an inconvenience that has to be suffered to get the 'prize'. I am happy to suffer for the prize.

A quote that rung a bell with me...

One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching. Unknown

Dreams coming true?

Well, well, well, whaddayaknow?!! It would appear that I am pregnant again. WOW! SURPRISE! Turns out that all I had to do was write that last post then assess our family situation, announce to my husband that I give up, I want to move on, I can be happy with our 2 gorgeous kids and will somehow 'get over' the underlying subconscious grief that was there, and cry a few tears when he talked about giving our baby stuff away. I was approaching peaceful acceptance. I booked an appointment with my doctor to get a referral to fix my post-childbirth issues. And 2 weeks later, 2 lines side-by-side on a little wee stick. YAY!!! I am shocked, and happy, and scared. So scared in some moments. But impressively nonchalant in other moments. I fought the urge to visit the Emergency Dept next to my work on Thursday when I was having little abdo cramps...I so wanted to demand an ultrasound. Then I realised, as a knowledgeable midwife should, that it's too early to know too much or to be able to predict too much. Then I realised that I really want is a crystal ball, a reliable one, to tell me now, right now, whether this will be all right. Whether I can plan for a baby or not. Whether I can get excited as I so want to and so so should be able to if my innocence in this department hadn't been so lost to me 6 years ago then again last year. Is it worth visiting a clairvoyant? I've never wanted to before but right now, still with 2 weeks till the magical 7 weeks when my angels haven't lived past (according to scan), it seems too many minutes to endure of not knowing quite what to feel. Self-preservation is a strong thing. Part of me says that if I keep a lid on it, not get TOO excited and not plan TOO much, then I won't be hurt so much if the worst happens. And then the bigger part, the more natural positive part that is more truly me, doesn't want to rip this little bean off of my excitement and the welcome from my heart. Even tho my other little angels haven't made it, this little person doesn't deserve any less happy feelings flowing through. I'm a bit stuck in the middle. I think the positive part is winning out the last few days though. I keep finding myself grinning a quiet little grin...I've got a secret and it's the coolest secret ever! I didn't know how to tell my husband...I ended up taking the wimp's way out and leaving a positive pregnancy test on the bathroom cabinet...I heard him inhale with a "OH!" and then pop his head out and ask "are you pregnant?!" I answered, heard buried, "it would appear so! Sorry!" "WOW!" Yes, wow indeed! And he's been very sweet, genuinely happy, teasing me that all I had to do was give up on it and it happened. That afternoon after work, he hugged me and put his hand on my belly and whispered "hello baby, how was your day?" Just what I needed him to do. PHEW!! It made me laugh thinking how wimpy I was about telling him...how do girls who fall pregnant very early in 'dating' manage to say the words to the bloke that got them that way? Must be terrifying! So...December. I allow myself one little fantasy, one little planning-ahead indulgent thought. My little baby girl or boy, tiny, wrinkly, fresh, being cuddled by an ample Santa for a Santa photo. I saw this last Christmas (when I 'should' have had a baby too) and it brought tears to my eyes. My babies have been nearly one at Christmas, old enough to think Santa is a horrendously scary man! I've told a few friends, much to Tony's chagrin. He was put out when he found out, and I had to explain that "telling people does not cause a baby to die" (he still has a little tiny belief that posting our news on Facebook last year had something to do with our baby's demise...anything to make it his fault that bad stuff happened??). I added that I'm a talker, a communicator, therefore not that good at keeping my mouth completely shut about something that is on my mind EVERY SINGLE MINUTE. Surely he knows that by now?!! (He kind of agreed.) So speaking of friends, I have a few friends who are ultra-understanding about my fears, even though they haven't 'been there'. Another few who haven't 'been there' don't get it at all...they try but the understanding isn't there. It prompted me to write a list of 'friends who I could confide in'...23 of them (which made me feel pretty lucky just to have that many good women in my world)...of which only 4 have suffered pregnancy loss. Good stats for my group really. (Makes me feel that I 'took 2 for my team'. Not an entirely rational thought but hey, am i really truly expected to be rational right now?!) Anyway, so I considered who I could talk to who would really truly deeply in their hearts 'get' this fear. None of those 4, 2 because I don't want to bring up their pain again, 1 because she's still grieving that she can't have a 3rd so probably wouldn't be able to get past that, another because hers was an accidental pregnancy soon after her 2nd baby and she had just found out she was pregnant, was in total shock and then rather relieved that she didn't have to face the reality of it. So I just have to process my own thoughts, try to keep healthy about it (and I'm quite proud of how successfully I'm doing that so far), talk to friends who say the right things, and keep hope hope hoping! And enjoying. And doing everything I can to allow for 'success' (not that I can pinpoint anything I've ever done 'wrong' before). And on a superficial level, enjoying the renewed smooth skin that pregnancy hormones have already given me, after a shocking few months of cysty pimples. And looking forward to, and dreading, and then dreading some more, the nausea and vomiting that seems to accompany me in early pregnancy (no matter what the outcome...it's a myth that 'morning sickness' means everything is going well; I've proven the myth of it twice). And I'm talking to my stomach and begging this little person to hang around and be healthy and grow big and he/she will be so so loved. I promise.

A year on...

A year tomorrow since we found out we were pregnant with our 3rd child. That didn't go so well...and we still don't know what the future holds for us in that area. Still no baby in my arms or in my belly, and I hope every day that there will be soon. My kids hope it too...they both randomly bring it up, asking "when are we going to have our other baby Mummy?" and "I can't wait to play with our baby" and wherever we are, they both seek out babies to sit and play with. Even newborns. My 2 little gentle nurturing souls are both convinced that there is another little person for our family.
My husband isn't so convinced. Scared of a repeat of the grief and illness that occured for all of Autumn last year. Scared of his age (40 this year). Scared of being so 'tied down' and 'tired' again just when our kids are at ages that are getting easier.
I can't tell you why I'm convinced, I just know I am. In my heart. Practically, I know that we have it pretty good right now. Financially, probably not the wisest move to add another person. But emotionally, and isn't that the biggest one?, it's there, that wish to complete our family with another little person. Boy or girl, i'm honestly not fussed. As I keep saying to my husband, I just know that I'm not done.
I might have to be done. We don't know what last year did to my body. I may now be infertile. I'm not really ready to face that. I may have to be soon and I don't even know how.
I sway between thinking 'at least our kids and each other are healthy, at least noone has died, I should be grateful for all I have', and then thinking 'oh man, finding out on ultrasound that another baby has died in my belly, and having to go thru an operation, and then becoming septic and having to have another operation, then becoming unwell for several months with terrible headaches, but having to get on with life and duties and work and everything anyway, well, maybe I have a right to feel sad sometimes about it.' And then I think, like Tony must, 'why would I want to take the risk of all that grief and loss and illness happening again?' I don't know, I just do, I just want the outcome that most people get, a healthy baby.
It's hard being a woman. It's hard wanting something that you actually have no control over. I can't make my husband sleep with me at the right time of the month, I can't make my body fall pregnant, I can't wish a baby into being. And I can't stop myself looking at other babies and thinking it's in my destiny to do the baby-stage again. And the toddler stage. And all of it.
It is all so incredibly rewarding. Hard as anything, frustrating more than life itself, but so fulfilling and fun.
My husband sometimes thinks I struggle with the 2 I have. He questions whether I'm handling them. Don't we all struggle at times, at moments? Don't we all just want space sometimes? I know we do because I talk to a lot of other mums and dads, and the story is always the same. He doesn't talk to anyone at all about parenting, so he thinks it's just me. And I'll have you know that I am a very good mum, a very organised person, on top of it all, admired by many. He just doesn't see that because he remembers the times when I'm irritated and yell and crave space. Don't we all do those things?
I know another little person in our family would make it busier in our house, give me not much space for a long time. But I'm willing to go there. I really am. My fingers are crossed, always, that we get to go there.

Strange Things Happen

I just found this unfinished post in my drafts folder, the last time I visited this blog last year. Written on 18th may 2010. Reading it made me realise why my heart holds its fears. And then I realised that my 2nd op happened a year ago today...funny how dates bring things up. I wanted to go to bed an hour ago but got on here and just started typing instead. Anniversary dates come up unconsciously in my head. Even 'exactly a week ago' moments...I'll randomly remember some random thing i was doing 'last Saturday at this exact time' and get a clear flash of it. Weird. Anyway, hopefully posting this post from last year will make it unnecessarily to write a new one for this year (or something superstitious like that?!!). Good night. Yep, strange things happen. Things that cannot always be explained. Things that are not always pretty. Things that are confusing and sad and cause question after question to come up. I was so happy to be pregnant with that dreamed-of 3rd baby. But only 4 weeks after that positive pregnancy test, we found out on a scan that the baby had died 2 weeks earlier. A Missed Miscarriage. Again. Our second journey down that road. Back to hospital for another D&C, the tears, the letting-everyone-know, the trying-to-understand-it. Didn't seem fair somehow. Still doesn't. I'm still trying to understand it, 9 weeks on. Twice we find out on scan that our babies had died weeks earlier and have to deal with the emotional aftermath. Only this time, the aftermath wasn't just emotional. I developed an infection and had to have a repeat D&C to remove 'retained products of conception' (medically, an apt description, but quite hard to take as the mother of those 'products of conception'). I was septic and very unwell, and 7 weeks since then, I am still suffering from a headache every day. There is no diagnosis for the headache and it may not be related to the post-baby illness, but in our minds it's all linked and certainly hasn't assisted in any way to help us recover emotionally. I am bummed about the baby, really sad and looking for reasons that I will never understand. I accept that the baby must not have been 'meant to be' physically, that there must have been something not right with him or her. Butwhy? And even more so, why did I get sick? What were the reasons there? Is the universe trying to tell us something? That maybe we shouldn't have a 3rd child? That maybe we should stop at our gorgeous 2? Did we get punished for being too greedy, for wanting too much in our lives? Why did it all happen like that? And an even bigger question, what does it mean for our future? Now that the thoughts of another baby and then the 'tease' of another baby have happened, I fear that I will always feel an empty part of my heart if we don't have another. I was scared of the difficulty and the change, but I was so excited and thrilled, not to mention clucky. But now we're both scared of what this experience meant for us, of going through any of it again, of everything to do with 'trying again'. I still get emotional at unpredictable times, I still must feel the pain somewhere inside, in spite all my insisting to myself and others that I am over the loss.

A Gift Come True

Well, it's happened...my anniversary gift of having another baby is about to happen. I did a test this morning and we are 5 weeks pregnant with our third child...YAY! Very excited, rather quietly but happily so. I have had a feeling for the last 4 or 5 days that I was and I hoped all along for conception this month (an October baby)...any earlier felt too early, any later was approaching Christmas...this is perfect. I dreamed it and my dream has come true. Tony is stoked and proud. Hungover as he is today, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face! He joked that he is deliberately hungover today (and rather badly too) so he can empathise with me in the coming weeks if (when?!) I suffer morning sickness. I've been super-understanding and nice in the hope that he can do that for me too. That is honestly my only fear about this whole thing. The birth doesn't worry me, the baby itself doesn't worry me too much (I know it will be challenging but I had a big revelation in my heart at work a few weeks ago that I love babies and I love toddlers and a third child isn't just 'a third child', it's a whole new person to adore and love as we do the current two). But the morning sickness, well, the thought fills me with trepidation and fear because I remember only too well how it feels and it can't be any easier at all with 2 little kids to look after! I explained to Michael earlier that we found out today that I have a baby in my tummy and making a baby can be rather hard work for the body, so I might be tired and maybe grumpy and feeling sick for a little while. I might even be sick in the toilet, I told him. He took it all in, then said "oh no, but I hope you don't spew the baby up from your tummy!" so we had a chat about how the baby's in a special little pocket behind my bellybutton. Later on he brought it up again and told me he can't wait to teach the baby cricket and footy...my sweet sweet boy, he's so lovely!
So much to think about now, so much on my mind...wow! Pregnant. Huge to digest. YAY!

Motherhood is everything in extremes

I read a quote in a magazine today, quoted from a book that i've been meaning to get out of the library called "Buddhism for Mothers".
"Motherhood is everything in extremes".

I think that about sums it up. Good and bad, fun and challenging, that is exactly it. Struck a chord, and that has become a new thought of mine, along with "This too shall pass" in the hard moments, and "with children, the days are long but the years are short", to remind me that to enjoy it while it is still here.

And I am proud to say that I do, very much.

The 'everything in extremes' bit is true in every way. My children bring me the most happiness, the most pride, the most to look forward to, to most 'little moments'. They also bring me the most frustration, the least sleep, the least relaxation, the most mess. All in extremes.

When I say that quote to myself in the frustrating time, it reminds me, gives me a kick, that although things they do/don't do can drive me insane, in the same hour, they will do/say something that will make me laugh to extreme or feel love to the extreme...and it all balances out. No actually, it doesn't balance out at all. The good definitely tips the bad, it is way more. It just seems that the bad is what also makes me react and then feel guilty or stew on it, so it leaves a bigger impression than it deserves to.

I have realised recently that one of my biggest challenges with motherhood is an issue of my own. I have a 'personal space issue', a certain degree of claustrophobia. Not a medical or psychological issue as such, but it does affect my tolerance of the kids at times. Like when helping one of them on the toilet and the other one stands behind me in the little room, I get quite anxious and have to monitor my reaction to keep it fair. My instinct is to panic to make space around me, but I need to use my self-control to ask nicely for some space. It happens regularly, this need for space, because with two toddlers who ADORE me and always want to be right with me, closely following me and standing under my feet, I don't get given much personal space. But again in extremes, while that is extremely challenging to me sometimes, I remind myself that I am blesssed with two very affectionate children, and I certainly get cuddles and kisses in the extreme too. Being an affectionate person myself, I wouldn't change it so I have to take both the crowding AND the cuddles, and monitor my anxious reaction when my personal space is invaded by two toddles at times I don't want it to be.

Another example of extremes in a way is a little something that happened last week. Both kids and I were unwell with a cold, miserable and snotty and tired and coughing, all feeling out of sorts. They were being more frustrating than usual because they were sick, and I was more easily frustrated than usual because I was sick (surely there should be a rule that parents and kids shouldn't be unwell at the same time!). Michael's whining had just reached an all-time high and to my fluid-filled ears and sore head, it sounded like nails on a blackboard. I lost the plot and yelled at him. I can't remember what i said, but I know my yelling wasn't pretty. He cried and then took off outside. I thought he was going out to nurse his wounded feelings and I was glad for the space from him. A couple of minutes later, he came up to me with a bunch of flowers that he'd picked from our garden, handed them to me and said, "I know you're feeling sick Mummy, and I hope these help you to feel better." What a sweet sweet boy. I of course felt guilty that I had unfairly yelled at this gorgeous little person, but mostly I felt so proud and amazed at his generosity of spirit for recognising how I felt and putting his own hurt feelings behind him in an effort to make me feel better. Sometimes (often) I think children are bigger people than us jaded adults.

My final example of extremes...Christmas. It is only 19 sleeps till Christmas. A very busy 3 weeks ahead. I know it will be crazy and chaos and there's so much to do. All on top of the normal everyday stuff that I already struggle to fit in.
But CHRISTMAS!! I LOVE it. I always did but with kids, it is so special. I soak up every moment and expose them to everything to do with it. Santa is coming this afternoon infact, to help us put up our tree and decorations. I am very excited and Michael is too.
The extremes of Christmas...busy and tiring, but so fun and magical. And like with parenting, fun and magical win hands-down.