And so.

This week has been less than easy.

We started it worrying about Ray's endoscopy, followed by relief that there was nothing found mixed with disappointment that they didn't find a simple ulcer and zap it (or whatever they do) and then worry again that he needs a colonoscopy because they know that there is something to be found. It can't be serious. It just can't. He's fine. He feels fine.

And breathe.

Our Landlord (also a friend and provider of work for Ray) still hasn't concreted the area outside our back door. It's a rubble path at the moment and the garden is full of scaffolding, sand, a concrete mixer, etc. Ray sent him a hissy text message and then he sent one back. The following day we locked ourselves out of the house and had to call him. 

The car failed it's MOT (road worthiness test) and the brake callipers need changing. We need to spend yet more money we don't have.

Life just keeps going on. Losing a baby, two babies, a whole team of babies doesn't exempt you from other crappy stuff. It should. It really really should. By rights all of we the babylost should win the lottery jackpot and suffer perfect health and a peaceful mind until the day we die, hand in hand with our love, in our sleep at 101.

They forgot that didn't they? Yoo hoo, hello? Excuse me? Can I have my babylost free pass to an easy life now please? Hello.....?

And so, we found the brake callipers for half the price we were originally quoted and my Mum is lending us the money until Ray's next job and it's not as much as it would be if Ray couldn't do it himself. When our landlord turned up with the key he cheerfully apologised for all the delays and promised that next week... and as for Ray, well we don't believe it is anything sinister because well, it's not possible.

Things are rarely quite as bad as our imagination tells us.  Of course sometimes things are very very bad, but mostly... hopefully...

And so, life goes on, even with an ache in the chest, a knot in the stomach and an inconvenient hole in the pocket.

Insomnia a deux

*whisper*

wide awake

me too

*sigh*

watcha thinkin about poppet?

Oh all sorts...

*pause*

...the holiday and packing and the weather and the cats and winning the lottery and... George.

*pause*

Yeah... same things more or less...

*hand squeeze*

...and radiators... I'm thinking about the twelve radiators I've just painted.

Uh oh

You know how I carefully planned our caravan holiday to carefully avoid periods and whatnot?

Well, the period was a distressing 3 monster crampingly days late (NOT pregnant).

And I carefully forgot to plan the weather.

Hopefully monsoon season will be short over here and finish on Sunday evening.

I've still got washing outside dripping.

We borrowed Ray's friend's waterproof video camera. Waterproof. Ha ha.

As much as I mentioned that the sound of rain on a caravan roof was "nice" it doesn't mean that I want to hear it all next week... are you listening universe? Probably not eh? Why break a two year habit.

Oh yes and Ray broke a tooth.

Despite this I remain excited about getting away.

As of Monday, please send your very best non-rain-no-disaster vibes to us. I think we need them. Thank you.

Escape plans

We're finally going away - on 4th October - only 3 weeks to go we have to wait nearly 3 more weeks!  Arranged carefully to avoid periods, carpet laying and decorating. Yes, I know, the universe laughs in the face of careful plans, hoped for sunshine and indeed, babies. It's an act of faith.

We're staying near Rye in Sussex. A seaside town which lost the sea. We're staying in a caravan. It was stupidly cheap and we get many more nights for our money than staying in hotels (I was planning on fancy-shmancy hotels but the miser in me won out). I haven't stayed in a caravan since I was little and I sort of hope it rains just for the noise on the roof. We're going to an area that is flat and marshy, wide and wild. Big skies, long beaches, sand dunes and lots of history. Names like Frenchman's beach, Ypres tower, Wish street, Cinque Ports street and Mermaid street intrigue me. And then there's Dungeness which I think will suit my mood and maybe help blow away a few cobwebs.

I've been desperate to get away since we lost Little P.

I need to get away from the blanket of gloom that has settled about me. The one so heavy and itchy and uncomfortable that it stopped me from getting myself an in-real-life hug.

If I could just leave it behind... or better still, drop it along the way...

Ray has an ulcer. Probably. Unpleasant tests. I worry. He stresses.

But we're not cancelling this holiday for anything.

Just in case...

...you think I'm melancholy all the time.

Rejoice with me dear reader for I think I've fixed the commenting problem!

My day

Ray and I doze in bed and he suddenly moves his hand as if scratching, "I was dreaming of scratching your back" and I laugh.

I get up and put on my necklace and wear my son's name.

The cats follow me around our flat insisting on breakfast and then watch me shower. They watch me eat toast. They chase my shoelaces.

I walk into town watching the pavement.

My Mum bumped into a couple she hadn't seen for quite a while, "How are you getting on with your grandchild?".

My Mum holds my hand while I cry in the coffee shop and says, "It will happen if it's meant to" and I feel like screaming. I drink my decaf vanilla latte instead.

We bumped into a couple my Mum knows, she introduced me, "So, any grandchildren?"

My friend K, whose sister is dying too quickly of bowel cancer, smiles, makes jokes, hugs and makes everything just that little bit better.

My Dad forgets the word for "lift" (elevator) and I wish I could make him better. I make him smile instead.

Ray sends me sweet texts and comes to collect me from my parents place and my Dad shakes his hand.

I wash the dishes and Ray hugs me tight from behind, because it's his turn and I'm doing it because he feels ill (definitely not man-flu).


I sit down with a purring kitteh cuddling and find some peace.

Treading water.

I went swimming this morning with my mum. I haven't been since I was pregnant and only once then because it just felt so wrong. Back then I'd had visions of me floating serenely around the pool with my bump high and dry and I was so disappointed.

Anyway, the swim was good, it felt good to be weightless, although I got out of breath far too easily. But at 10am the pool started to fill with, yes of course! mothers and babies for the morning mother and baby class. Hey, be proud of me; I kept my cool, I kept in control and then we decided it was coffee (decaf) time.

GAH! The changing room was full of tiny, chubby, gurgling, screaming, crawling, smiling little darlings. My mum of course started cooing over the most perfect baby I have ever seen. Honestly, an ad agency's delight. Perfect skin, button nose, fluffy hair, big beautiful blue eyes. How old? Well yes of course, 7 months old, just the age George would/should/could/might have been. "Please let it be a girl please let it be a girl please let it be a girl". We were introduced to Sophie who smiled and cooed at my mum and then at me. And I smiled and cooed back at her, and touched her perfect chubby cheek. And it was warm.

And then I remembered that breathing is a good thing and exhaled.

Might go swimming on a monday next week.

I think I have finally lost it.

Yeah, as if you've never thought I had lost it before?

This evening I was making salad and pulling leaves off a solid round red lettuce (more like a red cabbage) and suddenly, in my hand I was holding this thing that was exactly the same size as George's head. What? No, seriously, WHAT??? My mind does the most bizarre things to me sometimes, honestly. I put it down, took a deep breath and attended to the tomatoes which fortunately did not resemble any part of my son's anatomy.

I went for my monthly, "Hi, how are you, ready to look for work yet? No, ok, fill in this form." appointment this afternoon and was chatting about trying to get pregnant, or rather listening to my adviser chatting about their receptionist who had been trying to get pregnant for ages, had several miscarriages, and now has pre-eclampsia and has to have a c-section next week. The first time I went into that place I was faced with this seemingly glowingly healthy, obviously pregnant, radiantly happy receptionist and I'll admit that I had a hard time sitting there waiting without thinking at least once, "You have no idea...". Of course she had no idea about me; and I had no idea about her.

You just never know do you?

Oh, and then I went to get my machete sharpened.

Facial readjustment needed

I popped into town alone today (in itself a feat of derring-do) and obviously had a vaguely panic stricken look to my face as when I came to pay for my disinfectant, silver polish, super glue, milk and bread (I have an exciting shopping list, no?) the shop assistant said,

"Cheer up luv, it might never happen."

"Oh it's already happened, it already has"

And with that, I gathered myself and my shopping together and trundled off, leaving the lady at the checkout with her own newly bemused expression. Walking home I stared into windows trying to catch sight of the face that looks as if something might happen.

Changes

I feel as if I need to make some changes. To everything, to anything, to myself and to our home. I started with my blog, a simple thing but it felt good to sit down and work things out, to fiddle with and write some code and concentrate. My concentration lately has been, quite frankly, crap. I don't have the tidiest of minds in the first place but now it's getting ridiculous!

I sometimes feel as if I'm sinking into myself. I've been here before and as comfortable as apathy can be I don't want to rest here too long. Dammit I need to pluck my eyebrows and shave my legs and I just can't be bothered. So tomorrow I WILL do it.

I don't really like going out alone these days. I do go out, but I much prefer it when we go out as a team. Then I can hide behind Ray and let him do the talking for us. So tomorrow I'm meeting a friend for coffee (decaf) and I WILL chat about positive things.

I need to get back to me. To the me that doesn't care what anyone thinks. To the me that has enthusiasm for lots of things. To the me that can get things done.

I feel at times like a hormonal teenager having a tantrum on acid. So I'm trying the relaxation-prepare-your-womb-for-conception-your-ovaries-are-beautiful cd and the visualisation of better things and I WILL get to where I need to be.

I just wish I could WILL George back into our lives. Into his life.

Morbid thoughts of death

Ray goes out to visit his friend, tells me he'll be gone a couple of hours and at the end of a couple of hours I start imagining the car wreck that he's got himself in. My Mum calls sounding a bit stressed and I imagine my Dad being rushed to hospital. The kittens... even the kittens dammit... are quiet in the morning instead of mewing outside our door and I imagine two tiny corpses lying on the kitchen floor.

This is not me.

It's not all pervasive but it annoys me that these awful thoughts occasionally skitter about my head leaving me with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I don't need this right now when I'm trying to find the relax-and-ye-will-conceive setting.

Oh yes, and just to add to the gloom of today, all the veg seeds I planted in the garden were dug up by a neighbourhood cat or chewed on by slugs.

On the plus side the rose we bought at the same time we bought the bulbs to plant in George's place is growing beautifully. It comes from a grower called David Austin where my grandfather used to help out, or perhaps volunteer in it's beginnings. If you like roses this is where to order from. They post overseas. I can't wait for it to bloom.

Tomorrow will be better. I will stop thinking these thoughts. I will sleep well. I will chill out. You will send conception vibes my way... well, can't blame me for trying that one.

Fearless?

We didn't do much today, we shopped for groceries, I tried out my blow torch and managed to mangle a bit of silver, (need more practice and a better hotter torch!) and I wondered if my period will show up tomorrow.

No, I'm not pregnant, absolutely 100% sure I'm not, we've been careful this month. Very careful. We gave ourselves some time to learn how to enjoy sex again before diving onto the baby making merry-go-round. 'nuf said.

Last months period was lighter, this month seems later. I know things change after pregnancy but I hope not too much as I have always been irritatingly regular. I have an irrational fear of early menopause and I'm trying to relax for the moment and see what happens.

Any ideas?


And today's random old photo.

My Grandfather, far right, looking a little uncomfortable. I have absolutely no idea what is going on here and neither does my Mum (her Dad). I try to make up stories for this photo but it just doesn't make sense!

Hopeful

I miss being hopeful.

We all mention it, we've all lost it for a while or not got it back yet, or we're hanging on to it with whatever tenuous grip we can find but dammit I miss that innocent feeling of hopefulness that used to follow me around. That glorious, "it won't happen to me" feeling that has gone because it can and has happened to me.

My pregnancy was not fun, I bled, I spotted, I had a lot of pain, I worried, I stayed home, I went to work, I was reassured. But up until that moment when I saw the cord dangling from me I had real hope. Ray was convinced that every time we rushed to the early pregnancy assessment clinic everything would be ok. He has lost that sureness now. So much so that he tortured himself for a while with fear. And I joined in playing that game too, along with all the other negativity with which I have so enjoy torturing myself.

But I'm ready now to really hope again. Come on hopefulness, where are you? I'm ready (so ready) to make another baby with love and look forward to his or her arrival. I'm an optimist at heart and I see no point in stirring the pot of stress cooking on the stove more than the bare minimum. (Even though I've been stirring it with an industrial sized cement mixer these last few months) I know that most of the rubbish I worry about really doesn't matter. What matters is love and the people I love.

Hellooooo hopefulness, let's be having you... and if you could bring a nice healthy dose of super-fertility along with you that would be just super.



Random old photo newly scanned.

From back in the "good old days" when snow was whiter and summers were longer and hotter. We used to beg our parents to take us "up Bushbury hill" with the sledge that my brother made with my Dad. Here we got my Mum to drive, I'm tucked in behind her (you can see my enormous mittens on her shoulders) and my brother is standing on the back. That hill would be crowded on sunny snowy days and we would often bump into friends and neighbours who had the same idea.

The couple that work together...

... have creaking aching joints when they get home.

We have been decorating my parent's place while they take a few days break. It's been a while since I did any physical labour, so to speak, and oh my do I feel it this evening. But it felt good to be working in a non-toxic workplace even if my poppet does get to be boss!

I was on door painting duty while foreman Ray did the real work. Well, he's the professional, when I paint it tends to be a bit more haphazard and multi-coloured.

While I slopped paint on the doors I was planning how to paint the nursery that never got painted for George. Clouds, green grass, trees...

Grabbing kisses in between reloading rollers was fun, let's do it again tomorrow.

It's a conspiracy

Thank you sweet ladies for your support yesterday it was much needed and so very gratefully received.

Love to you all.


Today I went swimming with my Mum. I thought it would be nice; we'd relax, exercise a little, and spend some time together.

This was another first. I haven't been swimming since I was pregnant and I only went once because my belly under the water just felt so wrong. I was so disappointed that day because I've always loved the water and I'd imagined myself floating around in maternal bliss. Maybe it was a sign that something wasn't right? Who knows, but it felt weird and I had a bit of a bleed after swimming that day so I didn't go again.

This day the pool started out with just a few retirees, my Mum and me. Then it started to fill up with Mums and babies and by the time we left I was on the brink of... something. I stood in my little shower booth listening to mums soothing their babies as they showered them and tried not to cry and failed. My Mum didn't notice though since my eyes are always a bit puffy after wearing goggles and I don't like her to worry about my mental state so I didn't tell her.

A bit later I went for a coffee with my friend. Guess what? Yes, a happy smiling Mum with a brand new baby.

*sigh*

I was thinking of writing off this week as the universe seems to want me full of tears.

On the other hand, my Mum really enjoyed her swim and it was good to chat with my friend.

And Ray and I have just been to an out of town shop and bought a new car stereo for even more booming bass (Ray swapped the heavy bass bin that took up all of our boot/trunk for a much smaller one that still rattles my spleen but doesn't threaten to turn it to mush). We got some potting soil and pots and I bought a blow torch. Ahhh good old retail therapy.

So maybe I will give this week one more chance.

Blank blog.

I'm feeling a bit blank in the blogging department today. Sometimes I have so many thoughts whizzing about my head that I can't type fast enough and others I just think... meh.

It's been an odd day. I woke up at my usual 7.30 and promptly fell asleep until 9.45. Ray of course didn't wake up until I exclaimed at the clock, *&%£$@*. Not that we had anywhere to be. No work for Ray today, my work is on the kitchen table.

A cup of tea in bed later and we got up, brunched, and set about a busy day doing very little.

I did finish three jewellery orders so perhaps I did a bit more than very little. Yay, posting tomorrow or wednesday. And I started on a new "battered heart".

I watered my seeds and whispered encouraging words, "grow dammit!" (nothing to do with babymaking, this isn't a new technique).

I put a load of washing out, again forgotten this evening. Oh-well-never-mind-eh.

And that's about it. Exciting huh? Today felt very normal. After the last couple of heightened emotion days it was a bit of a come down, albeit a welcome reprieve. Ah that rollercoaster.


Aww, I just saw Natalie's comment on yesterday's blog about getting her necklace. YAY!

Any one else got any mail?

Mish mash*

*Or, I can't think of anything even vaguely profound to write today so here, have some silly photos and a button.

I worked on some jewellery this morning, made some tea, made lunch for my poppet who is once again working across the road, made a cuppa because birni said we should, read some blog posts and cried and laughed and grieved along with you, made tea, thought of George, put some washing out (oops forgot it, it's still outside in the dark, oh-well-never-mind-ay) checked to see if the seeds I planted yesterday had germinated (no) made more tea, peed on a get-ready-for-emergency-sex stick** (no)... you see, not a terribly exciting day. What to blog about?

So Ray shared I stole two of Ray's photos today from our trip to Glastonbury. I do so love having my photo taken***.

Look at me look at me look at me!
Getting in the way of Ray trying to take photos of old buildings,
sheesh, I need your attention more than a pile of old bricks.

And, almost preternatural in it's accuracy before-the-fact,
this is the face you will see when when when we get those two lines.
Imagine a hand holding up a peed-on-stick and you just about have it.

And no that's not a bad 80's Human League stylee lopsided haircut, I have one side tucked behind my ear. And it was very windy at the top of that hill. And it was a bit frizzy that day.****


And finally, if anyone would like to put my brand-new-made-today shop button on their blog just copy the code here and stick it somewhere in your sidebar and there you are. And if you don't want to I won't be at all offended. Not a bit. Nope*****. (first batch posted yesterday morning!) And I revamped my shop's banner so you might want to scoot on over for a look!


<br /><br /><a href="http://tinymomentsofpurejoy.misi.me.uk" target="”_blank”"><img src="http://i361.photobucket.com/albums/oo51/bebou_photos/Shopbutton2small.jpg" /></a><br /><br />





**I seem to have developed an-uncontrollable-urge to hyphenate-every-word-I-can.
***blatant lie
****excellent bad hair day excuses
*****not a blatant lie

Prepared for anything

Birni's last post before she went away for a few days struck a cord with me.

How to prepare for the possibility of a new pregnancy? What, if anything, to prepare?

Physically, apparently, I'm ready. Emotionally, I am so so so so SO ready and absolutely not ready at the same time.

We had nothing. There was plenty of time. Nothing at home anyway. I had a few things stored at work that no one would let me bring home because it was "unlucky". Now I have the feeling that I want those thingsat home ready (those that haven't been sold without asking me anyway but that's another story).

We didn't want to know George's sex before his birth but now I wonder if we should find out as soon as possible. (I am of course assuming that we can get pregnant again) If it were to happen again I want to know that I'm losing my son or my daughter. I don't want to find out the sex of our baby when his or her lifeless body is lying in front of me.

Beautiful Birni is preparing a bag.

I think I might want one too.

There used to be the tradition for unmarried women to build up a trousseau, a bottom drawer, a hope chest ready with some of the linens and clothes she would take with her when she left her family home to get married. It's a similar feeling to want to prepare such a thing for a baby. Surely not all the women who had hope chests got married? That's where the word hope comes in to it.

It would be a sort of hope bag, a wish bag and a what-if bag of a few things ready for any eventuality. Any at all. Should I buy these just because I love them and I hope to have two little feet to dress in them? I found my own baby blanket a while ago, and never thought to ask for it to wrap our son in. Maybe it should go in the bag and then I would have something made with love to wrap our baby in if it dies and a lovely blanket to keep it warm in if it lives?

My grandmother used to crochet the most beautiful baby clothes. Many years ago I asked her to make some things for a friend who was pregnant with her third (I'm SO late at this babymaking business) and when she gave them to me there were two piles. One for my friends baby and one for my one-day baby. My Gran died 15 years ago. I still have the pile for my one-day baby. Of course none of it would have fitted George but they can go into the bag.

In the end it didn't really matter. Anything we did or do for Geroge after his death is really something done for us. Done for our grief, for our healing, for our memories. But still...

I debate with myself about this. Can you tell? Start now, in hope of what might be? Wait until a positive test? Wait until 12 weeks? Wait until after the point at which we lost George? Not prepare anything until the very last moment?

I know we have cultural differences but I'm sure this is a common theme going through many of our minds. Somehow I feel I have to do things differently. It's as if by changing the only things I have the power to change I will somehow change the outcome. Because we had nothing maybe if our next baby to be has it's own things ready for him or her, he or she won't be able to leave?

Do you dare to plan? What would you do? What did you do?

Our shameful secret. A gambling habit

Today we bought one new tyre, some gearbox oil and a foot pump using a £20 gift voucher that my brother gave us for Christmas and then went for a drive to another seaside town and played for an hour on the old penny one armed bandits and the tuppence roulette and the tuppence tiny horse race that they keep in the amusement arcade on the pier. We gambled our life savings away (£4), and enjoyed ourselves inordinately.

Ray has snapped out of his "grumpression" (his word) and things were looking great. And then we got home and opened the gas bill. Bah.

Maybe we'll try the casino next time.

Made with love. Part two

Continuing with my theme of optimism. Which, after yesterday is waning a little from its first rush. Which could also have something to do with my foot which is hurting like a §@$& today or maybe from the cramps I'm having quite a few days after my period ended which was mostly cramps and not too much bleeding. I should be glad of that but I hate that my periods are different, it makes me worry that my internal ladybits aren't working properly any more. Even though they weren't actually working properly in the first place. Bah. Roll on evilfibroidectomy.

Where was I? The optimism, where did I leave it? Coo, you put something down for a minute and... ah there it is.

Thank you all for your comments and encouragement about the name tag I made for George. I never realised that such a little thing would make such a big splash!

I'm going to have to sort myself out now, get my hands dirty and do some proper work, figure out a small enough price that is big enough to make a small enough profit and set up a small shop. It feels good to do something creative again. It's a nice feeling, so it is.

And ideas would be welcome. And those of you who commented saying you would like one will be top of my list when I'm ready to go. If you still want one then... or two...

I don't have the resources at the moment to buy chains. So I was thinking of just selling the tags, as many letters as needed, around 5mm wide and 2.5 - 3cm long depending on the number of letters in the name or maybe words (faith, love, courage, etc) and I've just sent for some number stamps so some numbers too if anyone wanted a date. So you get to fill your necklace with as many tags as you want, with whatever combination of words and/or numbers as you want. I know it's all been done before, but not by me and certainly not with such rock bottom, supersaver discounts-for-friends prices as I'm hoping of thinking of promising!!! Well, I havent a clue really but will be doing much research over the next couple of weeks.

If it wasn't for losing George, if it wasn't the mean nastiness of my welcome back to work, if it wasn't for this overwhelming need to create something out of loss I wouldn't be doing this, even though making jewellery has been something I've wanted to get back into for years. It saddens me that it's taken all this to push me into doing something I love again.

Oops there goes the optimism again.