Friday, February 26, 2010


have a new meaning for me since we lost Ariana.

When Matt and I decided to remove her life support, we asked everyone to come to the hospital to hold her and say goodbye. I spoke with the midwives, and asked them to organise with the NICU to move her into a private room. We wanted the privacy, to be able to cry and laugh and say goodbye, without worrying about upsetting other families who were visiting their sick children.

I also asked the midwives to make sure that all the staff who would be dealing with my care knew what was about to happen, to make sure they knew Matt would be staying the night with me (against hospital policy but he stayed almost every night anyway!), and just to make sure they went gentle with us.

I didn't notice it at first. Everyone who came into the room after Ariana was gone, was very very quiet. I expected that. They all said how sorry they were, and made sure to spend as little amount of time as possible. The door that they kept leaving open, now stayed closed. The curtains stayed closed. If i used the buzzer someone was there, almost immediately.

I thought the midwives had been very thorough in telling people. They hadn't. They hadn't said anything. The butterfly told the story.

Apparently, after we all went down to the NICU to say goodbye to our precious girl, they put a butterfly sticker on our door. The sticker tell's everyone that our baby has passed away, and that they should be careful, and compassionate with the people on the other side of the door. Our room was virtually soundproofed. We didn't have to hear babies crying. We didn't have to hear the hustle of the maternity ward. We weren't woken up for breakfast, they let us sleep. Everyone treated us like we were royalty, following our lead, being so kind, so careful and so lovely.

All because of a butterfly.

The NICU sent us a condolence card. I didn't expect it, but when i opened it, and saw the butterfly on the front of the card, I just smiled. Their amazing treatment of us, from day one to the end of our daughters short life, was recognised in a butterfly.

Butterflies dont stay long, but while they are here, they make me happy. They make me smile. And they help me remember my daughter. They encouraged compassion, love and kindness.

Who knew a butterfly could do so much?

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Who did I annoy

so badly, that I deserve to get a rotten, painful, nightmare of a period AND Gastro..

seriously. What.The.Hell...

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

It's about to get all yucky,

up in here, so if you don't want to hear about "whatsbeenhappeninginmyladybusiness".......then go away.

Evidently, because I am super special, and super lucky, I get to have TWO periods this month. Admittedly the first one was more of a "think I am, could it be, maybe not, oh well its over now" type affair.

This one has been more of a "dear god in heaven above stop this now because i think i am going to die" type affair. And that was only on day one. Periods, for me, are like sex after having a baby. Incredibly painful. The first couple are brutal.

I woke up this morning, at 2am, feverish and feeling like my appendix had burst. I was in agony. I was scared and couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. Then it occured to me. Aunt Flow, the old bitch was back. At least then I was awake enough to know that though I felt like I was going to die, it was a pretty unlikely outcome.

Emotionally, I expected this to be harder. But despite the yuk factor, the pain factor (and the potential for dying), I am actually glad to have a period. It means my body is regulating. Things are settling back into routine, the hormones are gone. Most importantly it means i can start keeping track of my cycle again. As soon as we get the Ok to try again, we're going to, which means I need to know when I'm ovulating. This will make that much easier.

I never, in a million years, thought I'd be happy for a period. As long as I'm hopped up on pain medication, I actually can be happy about this! I'm sure that will change, likely as soon as i start doing pregnancy tests - But right now - I'm almost, (not quite but almost) grateful.

They may not be God

but doctors sure can work miracles.

Ellery is home! She gave her parents a nasty nasty scare, but they didn't have to be admitted, and as of last night she was back home, safe in her own bed, and improving once again. Thankyou to every one of you who have prayed for her, and thanks to those of you who emailed me demanding an update!

In other news, Once again, yesterday I tried to clean out Ariana's room. Once again, it did not go so well. I was doing ok, studiously ignoring the baby items in the corner of the room until i came across the jumpsuit. "The Jumpsuit" is the twin of the jumpsuit we bought for Ariana to be cremated in. We wanted her to wear things we bought her, to have things of hers with her. It may seem silly but it was so important to me that we bought her things, just like we have been doing for Lucy for nearly three years. It was the only time I was going to get to go shopping for her, and so, just seven days after my emergency C-section Matt and I went shopping. It sounds absurd doesn't it. Even I think it does. But then planning a memorial service, for ones newborn daughter must have been the most absurd part of it all.

Anyway, I was doing ok, for about three minutes until i found this jumpsuit. Seeing it just floored me. It was a preemie suit, and it was still about three sizes too big for Ariana. BYhut it was hers. And that was the most important detail. The fit didn't matter. The suit we bought came in a twin pack. There was a pink one, and a white one with little bunnies on it. She wore the pink suit, and we kept the white one for her memory box. We also bought her a bunny rug, a little beanie, and some little tiny white socks. I took photos of them all. Those few items remain so special to me.

I decided that I could spend the afternoon doing nothing, wasting time on facebook, or I could sit in that room, trying to clean it out, bawling my eyes out for God knows how long and achieve nothing more than I would achieve on facebook. I chose facebook.

Fifteen minutes later - Mel to the rescue. Choosing facebook was wise, she asked what i was doing, I told her, and here she was, stealing me away to give me a better afternoon than facebook or tears. I'm so lucky to have a friend like her!

The door to Ariana's room remains firmly closed. I really, truly, can't bring myself to go in there. I want to, I want to tidy it up, throw out the crap, and box up all her things, keep them tidy, and safe. I want to open the window, vacuum the carpet, and be able to leave the door open.

But for now, it's staying closed. Neither Matt nor I can deal with it. And it's not a safe place for Lucy to be going with things all stacked up and towering over her head. So we wait.

One day, I will deal with that room. Maybe once I deal with the emotions that come with going in there.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

This Is Ellery.

She is a miracle. A real, honest to God miracle. Given a 5% chance at survival when she was born at 33 weeks gestation with Hydrops.

She had a rough start to life. She had to fight hard, as did her family, and friends. Everyone was pulling for her, trying to help her, to save her.

She fought, and got stronger, and eventually came home, on oxygen and other treatments. But home! Where every baby should be. Home with her big brother Wyatt.

 Isn't he adorable! Probably the best big brother there is!

Ellery kept improving, dealing with multiple setbacks, but her fighting spirit (and that of her mummy and daddy!) have always shone through.

Having her home, and healthy, was the dream, the prayer and the wish of every person who ever came across this beautiful little princess.

Today, Ellery the beautiful miracle baby, has celebrated her first birthday, and is moving forwards in leaps and bounds.

She will always have a weakness in her lungs, both from her prematurity, and from the obstacles she has faced in her short, amazing life. Just an hour ago, she was rushed to hospital, suffering RSV, Pneumonia, and uncontrollable fevers. Ellery needs your prayers.

This gorgeous little girl is so strong, and has fought so hard, now she needs our help. Please, tell every person you know, about Ellery. Ask them to pray. Ask them to donate to the March of Dimes. Ask them to spread her story.

Ellery is too special, and too loved, to have this beat her.
Links to her pages are below.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Being unemployed

has its perks. Like allowing me to wallow in bed recovering from the best weekend I've had in oh - forever?!

Friday night I decided Mel had had enough crappy in her life, and needed some fun, as did I. So we hit the pub for a night of cocktails, live music and much needed laughs. We both managed to sober up enough to be functioning parents again come Saturday morning but it was an awesome night.

Saturday morning we took Lucy to "Go Wild". Those who don't know what it is, it's an indoor play centre - and it's quite huge. The church we attend (on a not-too-often-should-get-there-more-but-something-always-seems-to-happen-when-we-try-to-type-basis) hires the place out for two hours once every couple of months. They open an hour early for us, so for the first hour its reasonably calm and quiet, and then its open to the general public at normal time, but we get discounted rates. It's really quite fabulous. So we went there for a bit over an hour, and let Lucy run and play and slide and just be crazy with the other kids.

We went shopping, got donuts and got her haircut and headed home for a much needed sleep. Saturday afternoon we went and picked up Matt's gadgety-doodad thing for the computer and then headed to the park with Mel and Jas, and the gang. Who knew a toddler who would climb tables and bookcases at home would spend fifteen minutes avoiding the climbing equipment and sand?! Bailey came round and the kids had a blast together.

Sunday, Sunday, the day of rest. Or not! Sunday morning we went to Sue's place, picked up some stuff she had for Lucy, and for Seth, and left with half a car of new things to fit into our house. Lucy LOVES Sue's house, she never leaves empty handed.

Back home for a sleep and then yesterday we went to the beautiful Gracee Joy Fraser's afternoon tea and baptism. We had stacks of fun, but gosh, by 8.30 last night sleep was so badly needed!

Today my neck is seriously sore, my head hurts and I feel hungover (after no alcohol), but I get to spend the day recovering. And I dont' have to worry about work.

So yes, un-employed deffinately has its advantages!

Saturday, February 20, 2010


I was not quite clear enough, in my "powerful" post.

The image shown, is not my arm! I don't, nor have I ever, been a "cutter".

The photo is linked to the link below the photo, It's a facebook group, called "To Write Love on Her arm". The basic premise is that Love can heal, and conquer. That every persons story is unique, and important. I thought the image of the word "Love" written over the scars, the physical signs of torrment and pain, was powefully moving. Which is why I posted it. Please don't worry about me, I promise I am just fine.

Friday, February 19, 2010


You're in a better place, I've heard a thousand times,
And at least a thousand times i've rejoiced for you
But the reason why I'm broken, the reason why I cry
Is how long must I wait to be with you

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then i'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me the strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now

Help me Lord cause I don't understand your ways
The reason why I wonder if I'll ever know
But, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same
Cause I'm still here so far away from home

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now

In Christ, there are no goodbye
And in Christ, there is no end
So I'll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
To see you again
To see you again

And I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now

homesick - mercy me

This is powerful.

I love it.!/towriteloveonherarms?v=info

You never want to take for granted

the doctors and nurses who are in charge of saving your child's life. If there is anyone who knows this, its my friend Chantel, who's doctors worked miracles with her beautiful son Kai, who also had hydrops.

Chantel, in her typical loving way, has been keeping the doctors who worked with Kai up to date via email over the past year, with his progress. As she comes up to Kai's first birthday in a few weeks, she has decided to send them all little books, of his progress, his scan results and photos etc. She asked anyone who was touched or impacted by Kai's story to contribute to the books. Below is what I wrote.

Wednesday October 21st 2009, was (at the time) the worst day of my life. It was the day, which full of hope, and promise, my husband Matt and I walked into our 18 week Morphology Scan, expecting to see a healthy, happy baby. We didn't want to know the sex, after finding out our first daughter was a baby girl, and having had four miscarriages, we just wanted a surprise. The joy, of hearing "its a ..." at the birth. I lay on the table, grinned at my husband and turned my head to look at the screen. Almost immediately, something wasn't right. I could remember, from my scan with my daughter Lucy, that the tech never took that long to look at the heart. This lady kept going back to it, over, and over and over again. She was frowning, but when she saw me looking at her, she'd smile, trying to be reassuring. Quickly I stopped smiling. Internally, I was panicking. I had no idea what could be so wrong, all I knew was that our precious baby was still there, heart beating away, dancing and jumping around under the wand.

"Hydrops Fetalis". That's all she said. Two words and my world fell apart. I surprisingly had heard of Hydrops before. I read an online blog, a lady whose unborn son was suffering from SVT before he was born and consequently developed Hydrops. He pulled through, was born alive and is now, thanks to miracle doctors, SVT free and perfectly normal in every way. But I remembered the word. Because the first time I ever read it, I looked it up. I couldn't remember much, except that it could be terminal. Immediately, I burst into tears, while my husband just looked mystified. Matt is the eternal optimist, he kept telling me it was going to be ok, while having no idea of what our precious baby was facing.

Three hours later we were in with the Maternal Fetal Medicine specialists getting a comprehensive scan. The total diagnosis was Hydrops, Fetal Anaemia and Ascites. The bowel looked "bright" however the Brain and other major organs looked ok. The growth, while continuing was low on the chart and our baby had impossibly short legs. Throughout our pregnancy, we were scanned between once and twice a week, had blood tests done to check for infection (which came back clear), and were treated with the utmost love, support and care by the medical staff. We were told that a termination was recommended, due to the severity of the medical conditions, but we refused. The doctors told us that it was unlikely she would survive until 24 weeks gestation, that we should be prepared to come in and hear that our baby has passed away. We still refused to entertain the idea. We also refused any invasive testing, preferring to wait until our baby reached a viable stage before we intervened in a way that could risk her life. The plan was always to get her to 30 weeks, and then to do both the testing, and a blood transfusion, to try and keep her going a little longer. On December 30th, 2009 we had what would be our final ultrasound our baby looked perfect! We thought we were getting our miracle. Then we found out that the AFI was 1.2cms. We were told be on the lookout for decreased fetal movement, and to come straight back with any concerns. I had no idea how serious this was for her.

Two days later we went to hospital to get monitored due to decreased fetal movement. Ariana Rose was born at 29 weeks gestation by emergency C-section, with severe, unexplained Anaemia, Complete Kidney Failure and Severe Hydrops and Skin Oedema. She fought with everything she had but evidently in the two days between the scan, and delivery, her condition had deteriorated rapidly. At just three days old she had a severe grade four brain bleed. Her liver stopped working, she was severely jaundiced and she was on three different medications to keep her blood pressure just above baseline. On day four, we invited everyone to come hold her, to love her and to say goodbye. Our oldest daughter Lucy who is two and a half held her for 45 minutes, singing" twinkle twinkle" and calling her "little sweetie." She loved her sister, enough for a lifetime and then four hours later after everyone else got to hold her and say their goodbyes, Matt and I removed her life support. She passed away in our arms an hour later.

When we found out Ariana was sick, and what was wrong, somehow through my research, Chantel Woodard found me. Without the support, the care and the love of her family, I do not know where I would be today. So to each and every one of you, thank you. What you did for Kai, and for the family is to me, a miracle. Your kindness, compassion and dedication to your job reach far beyond little Kai, it reaches to family, friends and acquaintances. My life has been changed by how you treated Kai. My daughter Ariana’s life was changed by your treatment of a baby, six months before she was born. We have never met, but I feel I owe each and every single one of you a deep debt of gratitude. All I can do, is say Thank you, and while to me, it doesn't seem enough, I write today to let you know that you are so appreciated, and so very well respected by myself and my family, for what you enabled a complete stranger to do for us, and for what you did for them.

Much Love,

Tam King.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Little Sweetie,

was how Lucy reffered to Ariana. I don't know where she picked up the phrase, I don't ever remember using it myself, but that was what Lucy said to her all the time. "Poor Little Sweetie"," Hello little Sweetie", "Hi my little sweetie"," Oh little sweetie", and finally, the most heartbreaking "Goodnight little sweetie", and "I love you little sweetie", as she said goodbye to her sister for the final time.

I was afraid, that when Ariana was born Lucy would be scared. I worried that she would be afraid of the tubes, the wires and the machines that were keeping our baby alive. As it turns out, I was more afraid of them than she was. We thought about keeping her away at first, but all we wanted, was for our family to be together, For Lucy to meet her much anticipated baby sister. So we let her in.

I'm so glad we did. Because if we hadn't, she would have missed some of the most precious moments. She never would have been able to call her "little sweetie". And when I went shopping tonight, and found a pink baby towel, with the words "little sweetie" embroidered on it, I would have had no reason to cry.

I bought the towel to keep in the memory box. I'm going to go back and buy Lucy one. My two daughters. My two "little Sweeties".

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Beautiful memories

"arianas mum"

This is what amazing friends do. They go out of their way, to make something beautiful and post it across the country. They also, send a condolence card with 4 pink balloons in it, one for each day of Ariana's short life.

Chan, I've never met you, but you blow me away with your generosity, and your kindness. If the best thing to ever come out of the internet is "meeting" you, then I'm truly blessed! Hawaii won't know what's hit it! xo

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Cause I needed something cheery...



Only in America,

you hear those three words all the time. Another horrific school shooting? "Only in America". Crazy lawsuit? "Only in America". Entire families killed "Only in America". (Absolutley no offence is intended to my American friends by the way!!)

Now, we have to add Australia to the list, because our society has gone mad. Yesterday morning, at a school ten minutes from my house, a twelve year old boy was stabbed to death. Absolutley devestating, I agree. Now lets add the minor detail about his murderer, being a thirteen year old classmate. Personally (and with no proof!), I think the kid who attacked, was probably bullied.

What in the hell is wrong with our world! We fight wars against terrorism. We send our troops into battle to look for Mass Murderers. And somehow, back here at home, our kids are dying. Not in war. But in their schools.

Three months ago, a 16 year old boy was stabed to death in a shopping centre carpark, two hours away from where I live, by another 16 year old boy. Last year a group of students from one school, invaded another. They took meatcleavers. Two students went to hospital with severe injuries, seven were arrested and charged. Police had the school locked down for four hours, while they tried to get the situation under control. 

Yet we can't believe things can reach such a breaking point that a thirteen year old boy takes a knife to school, and kills someone.

 God knows bullies aren't dealt with in our society. The victim is treated as the "bad guy". He or She is told not to take it so personally, to walk away, to tell a teacher. All of which do the sum total of nothing. The bully denies it, and the victim continues to get beat up, harassed, emotionally and verbally assulted, and is kept as an outcast. If every person in our schools had two friends they could rely on, I firmly believe bullying wouldn't be nearly as catastrophic as it is. But this isn't a book. You can't just write two reliable friends into young teens lives. They're too independent, to determined to do their lives their ways. Which is ok, as long as they aren't down behind the shed attacking some other person becuase they don't look the same, talk the same, or believe the same. Two friends, that could be relied on to stand up for their friends, not to get caught up in the high school politics, for every person at a school would mean that every person would have someone, a peer, to stand up for them. Bullies are enabled becuase those around them are too scared, or too into the drama to stop them, to stand up for the victim.

Teen Suicide rates are skyrocketing. Obesity is skyrocketing. Depression is skyrocketing. And anti-social, public attacks are skyrocketing. Don't tell me they aren't all related!

I firmly believe that the only reason we haven't had a mass school shooting, on the scale of Columbine, or Virginia Tech, is because in Australia, Guns aren't easy to get. That's the only change, The only difference.

Knives, can be found in any canteen, any kitchen, any Home Ec class, and can be bought, most of the time without even flashing ID, despite the law saying it's required. They are accessible. And these kids, the bullied ones, aren't going to sit back and let themseves be bullied forever. The ones who are hurt enough, angry enough and feel justified enough? They are the ones in our schools, right now, simmering under the surface, dreaming of their day. Their revenge. Their attack. Or their death. Some will fight back, others will just take their own lives, leaving us again, watching the news and shaking our heads in disgust.

They are dangerous. If yesterday has taught us anything, It's that these kids are dangerous. Once upon a time, thirteen meant you were innocent. Twelve meant you were innocent. Apparently, these days the early teen years means you are to be feared. It means your unpredictable, it means your not rational, unreliable and potential deadly. But why is anyone suprised? It's been happening, and escalating for years.

Our kids walk into high schools full of promise, yet so many come out broken, alone and depressed. Every high school teacher used to say "these will be the best years of your life". I don't think they use that spiel anymore. Even they know its all lies. High School is dreadful. It's traumatic. Some days it's downright scary! Do we have ten year reunions to show that despite how horrific we all were in school, that we did turn out to be reasonably decent human beings? Or do the old cliques, the old fears and uncertainties remain? How many people worry about going to their reunions? How many people feel they aren't good enough, don't measure up, and aren't worthy?

This is what high school does to people. We can say "only in America" but the truth is, Australia is no damn better. And it makes me so bloody angry to hear and see people looking stunned, when it's been happening for years and nothing has been done. Maybe now, that it's public, now that some poor kid has gone and destroyed his, and someone elses lives, we as a society will put our feet on the ground and stand up for what is right and wrong, and stop turning our backs and saying "too hard too hard", or worse, ignoring the problem all together.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Back to the new normal

but I really sort of miss the old one.

The day did not start well. At all. Matt's access card for work has been in the same place for six weeks. Until today evidently. God knows where it's gone. Half an hour after he leaves I get a phone call saying he's forgotten to take Lucy's bag to kindy, it's still at home. Half an hour into our new normal, and really,  NOT going well. I only hope his day at work goes better!

Meantime, I can't quite bring myself to get out bed. Today is not a good day for me, Its probably the lowest i've been in weeks actually, probably because for the first time I'm completely alone. I'm not depresed, and I'm not crying, I just feel like everything is too hard today. I'm not one to wallow in bed, but I think that's how I'll choose to spend today. Just one day feeling sorry for myself can't hurt surely.

Tomorrow, I have to get proactive and busy about finding a job. I only have two weeks of Centrelink grace left, and God knows they won't give me more time. I don't know what sort of work I want to do, I'm not very fussy, except that I don't want to work night shifts, or weekends because I would never see Lucy or Matt. If there is ANYTHING i have learnt it's they are more important than some job. And It's not something I'm willing to compromise on, Centrelink or no centrelink.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

For a lazy day

it sure got productive. I'm not sure what came over me, but this is what the playroom ended up looking like once i was finished being motivated...

Its never looked better. I give it around an hour before it returns to its former trashed glory.

Of course there is a chance I will go locco, and kill everyone in my house should that happen. After all, she clearly has help in this "messing up" business....

They did clean up, and then Matt cooked dinner. Can't fault either of them really!!

I think I slept

with one eye open last night, just waiting for Lucy to arrive.

And she never did. Woohoo the kid stayed in her bed all night - thankgod because the lack of sleep thing was really starting to kill me! I still had to go through at 4am when she started calling me wanting a drink but hell, that I can handle!

In other news, Matt goes back to work tomorrow. To say we're both sad about this is an understatement! I'm really going to miss having him around all the time. It's also sort of sad because Matt going back to work signifies that we really are moving on with our lives, moving forwards without Ariana. That is a bit hard for me to deal with today, while we've been gradually moving forward for 5 weeks now, Matt going back to work is a giant step in that direction. And It's daunting for me. I already have some days where I don't think about her. I feel guilty for that but it is the truth. Like i've said before, being a family of three has been normal for so long that there are days, she just slips my mind. I wish I could say she was on my mind all the time, and sometimes I think that might make me feel better about myself. Perhaps less guilty.

But other times, I just think that might make it hurt more. And I don't know that I want to feel that hurt more regularly, just to fit in with my pre-concieved ideas of how I "should" be feeling while i grieve.

I don't know. Some days. I just don't know.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

An Inspiration?

I think not.

A couple of posts ago, someone anonymously left a comment saying that they find me an inspiration. I damn near fell off the lounge. And I totally felt like a fraud!

I don't see myself as an inspiration. I don't feel inspired, or that I inspire others. I try and stay upbeat and happy but I'm human at the best of times. The worst - you don't want to know.

Losing Ariana was like all my nightmares combined into one big explosion. It didn't feel real, I felt like I was dreaming, that the decisions we were making weren't even ours to make. I felt numb. It was like when someone gets hurt so very badly that their nerves practically die, and are unable to relay the amount of pain the person should be feeling, so there is nothing. That nothing, is so much worse than the most excruciating pain. Finally feeling something again is almost a relief.

I feel uncomfortable being called an inspiration.  I don't want people looking at part of my story, the part that is here, and thinking that I'm only this. I have a history too. It's not pretty and it's certainly not inspiring. If you want to see someone inspiring, look at my husband. The man who stood by me when he almost certainly should have left. I don't deserve to be considered a role model, and I don't want anyone to think that they should be looking to me for guidance. I'm just as messed up as the next person. I just don't blog about it.

After two and a half years

of sleeping through the night, every night, Lucy has suddenly decided she wants to sleep in our bed. And I am NOT a happy camper!

What the heck is going on? She has now, in the last week come into our room in the dark, sleepy hours of the morning four days in a row. Varying degrees of anger and annoyance have ensued, to the point that when she came in for the second time this morning, I got mad at her. I told her in no uncertain terms that unless she was sick, or needed to go to the toilet, she had no business roaming the house at 2.45 in the morning! She started to cry, I told her to quit it, and Matt took her and deposited her back in her own bed, where she was asleep again in five minutes. I was too tired to feel guilty!

She's always been an excellent sleeper. In fact, when I was struggling with post natal depression, her being a good sleeper was one of the things that kept me sane. I can't for the life of me figure out why she is suddenly up and down two, sometimes three times a night. I thought maybe she was getting a bit cold, so last night I covered her up with her doona, and turned her fan off. 1am, BINGO, there she was. 2.45am, she was back again and I

We sat her down this morning and asked her why she keeps coming into our bed. She told me "I want to sleep in your bed." Well darling daughter of mine, that just is NOT happening! Sleeping with Lucy is like sleeping with an angry octopus, in steel capped boots. It's not fun, and It's not sleeping, It's dodging!

I wondered if all the Ariana stuff is catching up with her, or if she's not needing as much sleep during the night as she had previously, but she always goes straight back to sleep so I can't imagine its that. I don't know what else to do, other than keep telling her no, and taking her back to her bed. Hopefully she will get tired of this little game very soon, because I'm already over it and it's only been a week!!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

I decided to become a grown up

and went and got my learners. How sad at 24 years old?!

I can drive. I just haven't been able to drive LEGALLY - there was this little incident with a random breath test (i wasn't drunk! Just unlicenced), which kept me from getting it earlier - that and a healthy dose of procrastination.

No more. Went and got it this morning. After five minutes behind the wheel it's all come back to me and I'm doing just great.

Lucy is going to pack it when I sit in "Daddy's seat". Hopefully, If I'm doing it right, Daddy won't pack it when I sit there.. :)

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

In Memory Of

our baby girl, we put up these shelves to keep her belongings with the rest of our family. We think it turned out quite nice, all thats missing is the Ash Bear, which we have yet to order.

But for now, this is how it looks.
L-R Her books from Sue, the memorial book from the service, and her memory book the hospital made for us, Her photo collage from Tiah, Her memory Box and her jewellery, and DVD/CDS from the memorial service.
L-R Angel and baby statue from Kara, Dan and William Thomas, My "Ariana's Mum" bracelet from Chantelle, the Memorial Cross from Ariana's Uncle Geoff and family, The Family statues from my parents and Ariana's Star certificate. The Ash Bear will go on this shelf somewhere, when we eventually find the perfect one and order it.

For now, we like the shelves as they are. Then of course, there is the Teddy shelf...

It's in Lucy's room, above her bed so she can say goodnight to the teddies each night. And she does. She loves and is super protective over Ariana's teddies. Heaven forbid if anyone touches them!

Monday, February 8, 2010

It's the smallest things

that find you going "oh wow - didn't see that one coming."

These are my kitchen tiles. Actually, if you want to be technical, they are the tiles next to the back door, in the "dining" area of the kitchen.

It just looks like rubbish hey. Junk, on the floor, ready to be swept up and put into the bin. Its actually, what is left of the flowers. Ariana's flowers. And our flowers.

We threw them out a long time ago, but somehow, we just kept stepping over the dead leaves on the floor. Neither one of us, during what cleaning we've been bothered to do, has picked them up, or gotten rid of them. It feels silly, to be sentimental over some dead flowers on the floor.

Other people who have lost children, particularly babies, talk about how hard it is to pack up a nursery, to put away the things their baby was using at the time of their death. We have that feeling as well, despite Ariana never knowing life at home with us. Just three days before her birth, we got up the guts to buy a carseat in the sales. We debated back and forwards over it, but decided the prices were too good, so we got one. The box was still sitting in the lounge room when we went to the hospital that day. Someone thoughtfully stuffed it behind a cabinet before we got home. I found that tonight as well. It's still there, I don't have the heart to move it.

It amazes me, as ok as I feel most of the time, that I find myself doing things differently now. I don't feel heartbroken all the time. I miss my baby but most of the time I just feel a bit empty, It's bearable. But some things are different. I used to play certain games on Facebook. Since Ariana, I haven't touched any of them. I don't know why, its not as if I ever played them WITH her, but now I just can't look at them. Matt still plays them, I can't watch him do it. Yet it's just a game. We haven't eaten dinner at the dining table since Ariana. I don't know why. Part of it was that there were flowers all over it, so we just ate in the lounge with Lucy at her little art table. Then the flowers all died, and we threw them out, but we still didn't sweep the old ones up, or wipe the fallen leaves from the table. Somehow, we just didn't do it, it was like an unspoken thing.

The leaves and flowers are gone now, and tomorrow night, more for Lucy's sake than our own, we'll eat dinner at that table again. It won't be the same as it used to be. After all, everything is different now. But we have to get back into the swing of the way things were. Which means routine, and cleaning the house, and not leaving stuff on the floor for a month despite how attached we feel to it!

The shelves still stand in the loungeroom with all of Ariana's things, apart from the Teddies which are in Lucy's room. They will be there forever I suspect. But the kitchen, and the rest of the house - It's like she was never there. It's tragic really, that she never was.

How not to be an asshat

in one easy step.

Step 1. Don't refer to my baby daughter as "that little incident".

Indeed. The actual sentence was "how have you been since that little incident?"

Truthfully, I'm doing very well. But really? That little incident? I actually had to ask her what she was talking about. At which point she said "you know, that whole baby thing".

I'm not angry. Honestly I'm not. I seem to be a magnet for stupidity. It doesn't even upset me now, but wow! I pray, really and truly, that nothing devestating ever happens to your family. Because if, God forbid it does, your going to have a really hard time finding people to support you. Nobody wants to help an asshat.

And you my dear, are the biggest asshat yet!

I'm in trouble

but the good thing is I don't have to worry about feeling bad, for being sick on Matt's last week off from work. Why, you ask?

Because now he has it too! Lucy doesn't stand a chance at NOT catching this damn thing, I'm quite certain of it!

So now, if you'll excuse me, I have to stop wallowing in self pity and get out of bed, because evidently, I'M now the healthier of the two parents. Damn.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Friday night

was epic. I was sick. But it was still epic.

A girly night left Matt at home alone, something he is not at all used to, but has assured me he has no issue with repeating! Lucy came with me, which she thought was pretty damn great, to have her own special sleep over with Brianna. The girls were very well behaved, only giggling and talking in bed for about an hour before finally falling asleep. By which stage Mel and I were halfway through the Pizza and first movie. Great night. Lots of girly talk, and lots of random conversations.

As we always seem to do, we stayed up far too late, and then struggled to glue our eyelids open after all the kids got up a couple of hours later. (Question, why, do we knowingly torture ourselves like this....)

I had a blast - Thanks Mel for that fantastic idea :)

Its the last week of holidays now, and we're determined to get Lucy back into her old routine. So tonight, we're setting alarms. However much i suspect I'll be awake anyway having spent the entire day today asleep in bed thanks to the flu from hell, we will still set alarms in case i *gasp* sleep tonight.

I just hope I feel better tomorrow, I can't stand being sick, and I'd be very cranky if I wasted Matt's last week of holidays in bed!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Wednesday night

it started creeping up on me. Just a slightly runny nose, and a "weird" feeling in the pit of my stomach. By the wee hours of Thursday morning, my throat was killing me. By Thursday night, it was a full blown viral "thing" which has now got me firmly by the head, and is insisting I sneeze, and wail and gnash my teeth.

... Oh wait. There has been no wailing, or Gnashing of teeth, but if my head continues to feel like this despite taking copious amounts of drugs, there WILL be gnashing.

Feel like complete, and utter poo. I hate being sick. The worst part is I actually HAVE THINGS TO DO. Instead, here I life, feeling pathetic.

Friday, February 5, 2010


I dare anyone to tell me, that you weren't beautiful.
I dare anyone to tell me that you didn't live
I dare anyone to tell me that you didn't impact this world
I dare anyone to tell me that it was for the best
 I dare anyone to tell me i have only one daughter, not two
Most of all, I dare anyone to tell me, that a month on,
It won't hurt.

Love Mummy

Thursday, February 4, 2010

We are blessed,

to have the friends we do. I've always been of the opinion that having a few good, quality friends, is far better than having a lot of half arsed shallow uninterested friends. Those are the people I don't have the patience for, the people who, unless it directly concerns them, aren't able to express an interest in what is important to us, for whatever reason. I also believe in having friends as a couple, his friends are mine and vice versa.

Losing a child has a way of really showing you who your friends are. The people who come the memorial service, despite hating the thought of even stepping foot in the door. The people who take entire days off, to just sit in quiet support, offering to do anything down the smallest most inconsequential details, the people who protect, stick up for and defend you when your at your lowest, and don't have the energy to do it yourself, even though the fight is an important one.

I've talked before about how Matt hates his job, how he doesn't want to go back there, and how I worry about his emotional state of health in that environment, where he doesn't feel supported or heard. Its frustrating enough to be ignored, treated badly, and made a scapegoat. Its a serious concern when your also grieving, and trying to make sense of what is such a unique situation. I really worry about him going there. I worry he will get depressed, and feel trapped into a situation that makes him feel inadequate, hurt or lonely. I don't fear for my own emotional well being as much as I fear for Matt's. He bottles things up, tries to keep them to himself. He doesn't want to concern me, to upset me, and he thinks that by unloading on me, he'll unintentionally cause more distress to me, than he would if he kept it to himself. Part of that is my fault, because I get, passionate about things. I get so angry when I hear that his boss has again ignored him. When I hear that he's trying to hold Matt over a barrel, or to hold him responsible for something that has nothing to do with him. I get angry. I know I do, and maybe that's why sometimes Matt won't tell me about his whole day, about the things that happened that made him angry or upset, Those things, he tells Mel.

The only reason, I can keep calm myself, about Matt going back to work in a little over a week, is Mel. She is incredible. I don't know where she gets her energy,her strength or her compassion from, but somehow, with her and her very patient husband, we'll manage to get by the days and months from desperate grief, and loss, into normal life again. We have a lot of friends who have supported us, loved us, and helped us. But Mel, and her husband are a different kind of people. I don't really know how to put it into words, but I know I can be reasonably confident, that Matt will manage going back to work OK, because she will be there if he needs to break down, yell, cry or just get angry, she'll be there. And she'll still be there when he's finished being angry, or sad, or stupidly happy. She won't find it all too much, and need to run, or to back away. We can rely on her, I hope Matt never needs her there in that capacity, but realistically, at some point, It's likely to happen.

Putting so much faith in people can be scary. People are after all human, they have their own lives, their own failings and their own limits to what they can handle. It's a fine line between leaning on someone when you need too, and relying on them to make everything better, all the time. Nobody can make any of this better. Losing Ariana can't be made better. But it can be made bearable. All our friends have done that for us, they've made it bearable, for us to keep breathing, every breath, and to keep living, one day at a time, as well as we can.

Mel and her family haven't been in our lives for long, not even a year. But somehow, in such a short space of time they have intertwined in our hearts so deeply, that we can't imagine living our daily lives without them in it. Their compassion, understanding and love has made every day less of a struggle, even when our hearts were breaking. They have their own lives, they have pain, they have struggles but through it all, they make time for us, to be us, as we are in that moment. It's the greatest gift we could ever hope to receive, and we both cherish it. One day, maybe, we can be half as amazing to them, as they have been to us.

Much too much alcohol was consumed,

but we had a great time. We broke a glass, I cut my foot open, we sang loudly to terrible music, We ate junk and talked about random garbage. The beach is beautiful, too much sand for my personal preference, but Lucy loved it so much she bought half of it back to the apartment.

It really is beautiful down there. The only thing we probably could have hoped for was better weather, but in the end it hardly mattered anyway, we were too busy having a good time.

Thanks for letting us crash your family holiday guys x

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Common sense

would tell you that going to the crematorium, a month after you lose your baby won't be easy. And it would tell you, that you might find it upsetting, that you might even cry. Common sense might even tell you to take tissues, in case of tears. You'd think so right?

So how come I was totally shocked that when it came time to talk about what we wanted to put on the memorial plaque, that I. couldn't. do. it.
Its silly, this is by no means, the worst, or hardest thing we've had to do in this past month.

Turning off the life support. That was hard. Walking out of hospital with an aching C-section scar, knowing my daughter was in the morgue. Planning a memorial service. Discussing cremation, talking about where to keep her ashes. Those things were ALL hard. Leaving her, was hard. Saying goodbye, forever, was hard. Dealing with insensitive comments, and my questioning toddler about her sister. Explaining to parents at childcare what happened, because Lucy is talking to their children about her sister in heaven. Hard. Its all so bloody hard all the time.

This is just a plaque. Its simple and sweet. And I completely could not, get out one word about it. I communicated almost entirely by nodding my head, and pointing at what I liked. I knew, in my head what I wanted. But if I had opened my mouth, I felt like I would become hysterical! And I was surprised!
Its only been a month since she was born. Ariana was here one short month ago. And sometimes I forget that it was just a month ago. I forget that I still am healing from surgery. I feel fantastic, but I am still technically in the healing stage. I forget how bruised I am, emotionally, just from everything. I need to be kinder to myself, to let myself feel what I need to feel, when I need to feel it. But I don't know how to do that. I feel like I need to be OK, because life has to go on. The bills don't stop coming in. They still need to be paid. Which means I need a job. I can't be breaking down all the time, because then I can't work. And it cycles around and around in my head..I'm getting worried about not finding a job. I need something, and I need it soon. I need 15 hours a week, that's it. Emotionally, I don't think I'm ready for much more than that.

Argh. Breathe in and out and relax.

I'm better. I am, honestly, Doing better. But sometimes I need to vent, which is why I blog.

Ariana's memorial plaque will read

"Precious Memories of Ariana Rose King
01/01/2010 ~ 05/01/2010
11 weeks too early, Four blessed days of Love
Eternity in Heaven, Our gift from God Above"

It should be ready, and on the Granite book in 6 - 8 weeks, which ironically will not only coincide with her due date, but also the time we're expecting to get Autopsy results back. March is going to be another tough month I suspect.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Home is great,

except that its trashed and now I get to clean it up!

This week is going to be crazy. We've been home less than 24 hours, and we're already packing to leave again! Tuesday I'm getting coffee with an old friend - by old I mean school, Not old as in age!

Wednesday afternoon we're heading down to Coolongatta for the night with Dan and Lisa and Maddison. Should be a good night, especially since I already know Lisa is cooking roast pork (we fed her Pizza!!) oh yum. Friday I WILL catch up with Bec, I will, I Will, I Will, and then Friday night will be full of junk food and terrible movies! (Think hercules returns - now think worse!), with Mel and possibly Lucy.

Holidays are rather fabulous. Even if you're not AWAY from home.

Matt has to go back to work in two weeks, which is a tad crushing, he hates his job, and really does not want to go back there, but until he finds something else, he has to stick it out. I need to get a job anyway, and fast. I only have four weeks of centrelink grace left, and they WILL cut my CCB if I don't get something soon. I only need 15 hours a week, but ideally, would like around 30. So I'm trusting that God will send me something that suits what we need.

But for now, i have to buy some shoes. :)