I will not say sorry,

for who I am now.

It might shock people to know, that the person I was two years ago doesn't exist anymore. It might shock those same people to know that I actually am not as predictable as you might like to believe, I don't feel the way I used to, nor do I tolerate what I used to.

" I never expected to be this version of myself".

I think that sums it up nicely.

Some things are the same. I'm an awesome friend to have. I know that. If I'm in your corner, you know it. I stick up for my friends, I treat them well, I care about them, I support them. If I'm not in your corner, look out. I don't tolerate fools. I can't stand idiots. I hate hypocricy. And liars. I hate when people don't accept responsibility for their actions, and when they try and lie their way out of a situation.

The worst thing you can do to me, Is betray me again, after I've already forgiven you. This guy, managed a second chance, and suprise suprise, screwed me over again. It was my own fault for being so stupid, so young, and naive.

The fact of life is that if you live it fully, as I do, you're going to get hurt.

I never thought I could survive, the death of a child. That a baby could be born, and die in four short days, and that I could not only survive it, but live life through it, was unfathomable.
I like to think, that I have experienced the highest highs, and the lowest lows in my 24 short years on this earth. I have lived my life. I have lived it fully. There is nothing that I sit back and say "I wish I could do.." Because my life Is full.

Perhaps I am foolish to believe that I've been thrown the worst things I can think of, and managed to live through them. Maybe I am still naive.

I am better. I am a better version of what I was. I am a better version of who I was. I am better.

But those that can't accept that, friends or foe, need to move on.

Because part of my better? Is that I just don't care anymore.

Lets call him Wally, shall we?

Of course, that's not his name. But I'm going to call him that here (privacy and all that!)

So today, I went back to work. In childcare. Oh My.

"Wally, please do not hit your friends, Wally please take that out of your mouth, Wally, We do not flush rolls of toilet paper, Wally we do not drink out of the toilet, Wally please do not draw on the walls, Wally please come out of the kitchen, Wally Don't push her, that is not a nice way to treat a friend, Wally don't pinch him, hands are not for hurting, Wally I have asked you to please get off the fence, Wally why are you throwing the sand, Wally, please do not eat sand, Wally, Sit down, Wally do not rip the books, Wally come back inside, it is not time to go out, Wally come out of the rain, Wally please lie on your bed, Wally, stop kicking your friends, Wally stop punching the wall, Wally would you like to do a puzzle? If you don't want to do it that's fine, please don't throw it across the room, Wally, Wally, Wally, Freaking Wally!!

And that was in the first hour.

Oh My. I will not speak badly about the centre, after all, they are giving me hours, and trusting me with the children. The staff are beautiful. The women are lovely, very friendly, very helpful. It is a well designed centre.

It's just. Wally.

I am Exhausted.

In other news, You can also find me over here today.

It hurts my heart

to see a friend wandering down a path, that I've hurtled down myself.

I hate that she is so upset, so full of hurt, of despair and disapointment. She is disillusioned, both with herself, and her marriage. She is wondering if it is over, if it is all fake, if maybe, there is no future.

I want to help her. I don't know what to say, I don't know how to do anything to help her, or her husband except to just be there. To stand in quiet support, offering a shoulder to cry on, and a place to vent without judgment. That's all I know how to do. And it makes me feel utterly useless.

I know that these people are put into my life for a reason. Initially, the were there for us, to support us, to help us through the loss of Ariana. Life goes on, we heal, we move forward, and now, we have to help them.

I just don't really know how to. It seems at the moment, when my relationship is going so well, so many of my friends marriages are breaking down. I don't understand what's happened, but I can count three families that are nearing breaking point. I hate that. I hate that there is heartache in their relationships, that they are thinking the future is unlikely to provide anything good, or promising, that they are wondering if maybe they should just end things now.

I love that most of my friends are married, that we share that common bond of dealing with children, families and ourselves. We have enjoyed many, many days and nights in each others company, we eat together, we talk together, our kids play together, and we, for the most part, are open about our lives with each other.

I love these people like they are my own family, and I hate that they are struggling so deeply at the moment.

Like I said, I can't do anything. All I can do is stand, in support. Whatever decisions they make, whatever happens, we will still be there for them, standing by, watching and waiting.

The bad stuff can't last forever. Things will get better. And in the meantime, we wait.

The nerves are kicking in,

On Tuesday, I'm going back to work.

I'm looking forward to it, kind of. I'm scared, a lot. I'll be thrown in the deep end, I haven't worked in Childcare for well over three years.

I thought when I signed up I'd be working as an assistant. No paperwork, half the responsibility of the more senior positions. Evidently, they love me. They would hire me full time if head office would let them. They want me as a group leader and are throwing as many hours my way as they can.

I did a first aid course yesterday, with them. It was so much fun, and because they are all very intelligent, articulate women (and a man!), we manged to cover senior first aid, and CPR, in two and a half hours. Can you believe that! A two days course, in two and a half hours. And the whole time, I was thinking, oh wow, this is real. I'm going back to work. In Childcare.

I'm scared, but I am excited as well. I think it will be good for me, I know it will be good for my marriage. I need to have stuff to talk about at the end of the day! Stories to tell, something to contribute. It will make me appreciate days at home again, without feeling like I need to get out of the house. I used to love being home, now I'm sick of it.

I think that this will be a good thing. I know it will be.

I just wish I could get the nerves under control!

When your contemplating deleting

things have gotten bad.

I read a blog, written by a wonderful woman named Issa. She's having a hell of a time right now, and actually contemplated deleting her blog, and her twitter account.

Twitter, I totally don't understand. But that's a whole 'nother post.

Things must get bad, for someone to get to a point that they look back over everything they have written, in however many years, and actually think it would be better to delete the lot, rather than deal with the hurt it is causing.

Someone has been essentially ripping off her posts, and calling them her own. It's unbelievable to me, that someone who she reads, would think they can get away with it, without so much as linking it back to her, and acknowledging her words.

So, because I love her blog, and because despite never having met her, I am worried about her, and worried that she will leave the blogosphere, I'm writing this post. Who knows, if she will ever read it, part of blogging is never knowing who exactly is out there, and being ok with it. But even if she never reads it, I can know that I sent traffic her way, to read her blog, to hear her story.

After all, that's why we do this. Why we put ourselves out there. We do it to get our heads emptied of our thoughts and emotions, but we also do it, so people can hear our story.

Every Person has a story that is important. Human nature is to reach out, to ask for help, to seek guidance, and recognition. Her story is important, Just as important as mine, so, Go read hers. Please.

Today,

I'm writing over here. Be Gentle. It's still painful.

It was all going so well,

then I opened the back door.

Apparently, she's had her baby. Why she has to walk around the verandah with her/him is beyond me.

Ok, Ok, I know, I'm being a bitch. But it just seems so unfair!

From my current vantage point at the desk - all i can see is her pacing with a tiny bundle in her arms.

It really doesn't seem fair. Not at all. Not today.

Target.

I suffer from this. I fear it's terminal.

WARNING!

It's going to be another of those posts - not so much about periods, but other things to do with my bits and pieces - so as always, if you're not into intimate posts - click the [X].

Seriously. Click it.

So. I've been having sex. *Gasp!*

It's ok, I'm married, I'm allowed.

Seriously though, something has shifted in my marriage. I'm not sure what it was, or when it happened exactly. I know it's new. Like, really, really new.

After everything that happened with all my "indescretions", my interest in sex was at an all time low, or so I thought. Guilt, played a massive part in that. It's a miracle we managed to conceive Lucy at all, considering we were lucky to get lucky, as you'd say, once a month.

Then Lucy was born, and it was very messy, and painful and this happened. It was truly awful. And my previously hard to find sex drive, walked out the door shortly after. It was not good. I tried everything I could think of to get it back, but honestly, I was feeling super unsexy, super depressed thanks to undiagnosed PND, and just super tired most of the time. Completely not interested.

Poor Matt. My poor husband must have spent much time climbing the walls. To his credit, he never once pushed me, he never begged, and he seemed perfectly happy to wait for me to get my head together. I don't doubt he wishes it had taken less than two and a half years for it to happen, but he waited. (Have I mentioned I married a saint!!) (Obviously, we were having sex in that time, just not very much of it!)

I've never had a problem with being held, or kissed, but anything more, It was like my body had just shut down. To say, I wasn't interested at all, is such an understatement, and I hated myself for it, which only made it worse I think.

Well, fast forward to 8 weeks post partum after Ariana, and gosh, apparently I don't have a problem with my libido anymore. I don't know if it's because we've managed to stay together, that we've stayed in love despite the problems, the dramas and the heartache. But I've never felt closer to him. That's opened something and,

Yes people, I'm having sex again.

And It's GOOD!

(Told you to hit the [X]!!)

We Promised,

to love, laugh and live in your memory.

Sometimes, Ariana, we forget. Sometimes, we struggle, we get angry, we get sad, and sometimes, we just forget.

We never forget about you, but life has a way of catching up, even to those who are most determined to not let things get them down.

But we promised you, that we would love, laugh and live.

And so we do. Every single day princess, is for you. x

Don't Hate Me,

but if you're going to, there isn't much I can do about it! Because i'm ALL about the controversy, I have another confession to make.

I hardly ever find being a mum hard.

*GASP*

Sure, it's tough sometimes, especially when Lucy is getting on my last nerve, or is sick, or when I'm sick, and she wants me to dance and play. We always are going to have difficult days. But if I sit back, and look at it rationally, and reasonably, I really don't find it THAT difficult.

I feel like a bit of a fraud! It's not socially acceptable to not struggle. People are always saying to me "but your a mum, thats a full time job in its-self" Um - nope. Not really. Not for me! But thanks anyway!

I guess I'm lucky because Lucy has always been, very well behaved. She usually listens, and if she isn't listening she will usually snap too by the time I count to three. She knows her limits and boundaries, and as a result, we get along very well.

Most Of The Time.

She has her bad days. She is not a saint, by any stretch.

But this parenting caper? I got this. I feel confident in my parenting abilities, and I know I'm good at it.

I think i'm also lucky to have a very supportive husband. He helps out, he treats the house as his home, not a drop in centre, he cleans up after himself, he cooks, he tidies up, he does washing - And he looks after Lucy just as well as I do. He's a great daddy!

We are very lucky - I am not, saying this is how it is, or should be for other parents. But I think, that all of this, is why we've managed to handle losing Ariana as well as we have. Not only did we know, that she was sick, so we had been forewarned, but Lucy is just so damn easy to take care of!

Shock and Awe

"I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing" - Agatha Christie

Life has been tough. When I wrote this post, I never, in a million years expected to get the reactions that I did. You, were Supportive, loving and kind. Many of you, both in the comments, and in private emails to me, called me inspirational (again?!), and Brave. The word respect was used, quite a few times as well.


To say I'm amazed, is not adequate. Thank you for your support, for not judging me for my weakness's, for my inadequacies, my failings and shortcomings. Of course, with the good, always comes the bad.

I'm fast learning that having a blog that people actually read, and comment on, means I need to realise that there are people who aren't going to agree with me. There are always going to be people who don’t think the same way as I do, whether it be about how I raise my daughter, what I think and feel about religion, and God, or, how I have approached, and discussed Ariana.

It astounds me that in the land of the internets, there are some who feel they have the right to leave words of negativity, of hate and other bitter vitriol in the comments section in the blog of a person who is, just like everyone else, trying.

I often wonder, if these same people who are leaving awful, hurtful and often just sickening comments here would have the same belief in their convictions if they were face to face with me, a normal, grieving mother. Would they still want to call me a slut. Would they tell me I should have just killed myself instead of dragging a good man down with me? Would they tell me, to my face, unflinchingly, that I disgust them, and that my daughter, the one unlucky enough to survive, should be taken from me immediately, lest I do her irreparable damage also?

Those are just a couple, of the final tally of 7 comments that made my heart ache, and my head spin. That people who have never.laid.eyes.on.me could have such an open hatred of me, really made me wonder.

I don't doubt myself. I don't regret what I wrote. Sure, I regret that I had reason to write the post, and I regret that the material for the post ever existed. But I don't regret my decision to write it. This is my space. And this is what I do. I don't always convey it in a way that is lyrical, beautiful, or well written or invitational to be read. But It's still my space, and I still get to be the one to decide what I write. I won't be stopping that anytime too soon and certainly not because a series of "anon" commenter’s feel the need to take a post of the lowest point in my life, and then rip me to shreds over it.

I have, the most incredible support network. There are people in my life today, who just six months ago, I had never laid eyes on. There are people sending me things, daily, to get us through. Cards, balloons and other trinkets arrive via mail almost every week. We have friends. We have family. And I am so grateful for every single one of you all. Thankyou for your support!

 I need to recognise that not everyone agrees with me. But those who don't, need to recognise that I will write what I like. I will not be cowed and I will not begin to question myself, because you display an utter lack of self control. I will not let you decide what it is ok for me to write about. I have beautiful people around me to support me, to help me and to care for me.

I am blessed, and I am loved.

It is you I feel sorry for.

Even after everything else, after losing children, after self destructing, after EVERY.SINGLE.OTHER.THING. It is you, that I pity. Hiding behind your anonymous comments does not make you brave, and it does not make you clever or witty. It makes you a coward.

I pity you.


And, for the record - I'm an awesome mother to this little princess.

40 weeks

has gone so, so fast.

Today, Ariana, was due to arrive here, in our world. To become a part of our family "on the outside".

I cant believe that in 9 months, we've had the joy of finding out that finally, we were pregnant with our much wanted second child, only to have that changed to the worry and concern that our baby was very, very sick. Then throw in the birth, the death, the memorial service, and all the associated details and emotions and wow, it's been a LONG 9 months.

I loved being pregnant. Carrying her, feeling her move, kick and wiggle. I loved thinking about who she would look like. (Turned out, she was the spitting image of Lucy!).

I thought I would be more emotional today, I actually feel alright. Tired, because I'm STILL not sleeping at night. All going well, once we get through today, I might be able to sleep again.

One step at a time. I'm glad we're finally here, and can move forward.

Sliding down a slippery slope,

fortunately this time, I realised what was happening before it was too late.

This post, Is not going to be pretty. It's raw, It's probably not well written but it's something that I've been hiding from myself, for years. It is not public knowledge, a few select people know, and some others, who I now wish I'd NEVER told, but it is not public. Until today.

Today is different, because I've recognised, in myself, some of those old feelings, and thoughts that caused so much heartache. I've managed to recognise it before it got destructive, and before I acted on any of it, courteousy of one very intelligent, old friend.

I think it is important for me, for my own well-being to write this. It will keep me from going there again. It will keep my sanity. And it will save my marriage. But I must say, despite what I am going to write, I DO NOT blame my husband for any of this. Not at all.

If you're not ready for deep, and painful, today might be the day for you to click the [x], and go elsewhere.



Quite a few years ago, I had, what some might consider an emotional breakdown. I basically lost the plot. It wasn't pretty, in fact it was a damn disaster. I nearly lost everything that I had left.

It all started after our miscarriage. I was completely shocked by the first one, we'd been married for three months when we lost our first baby at 12 weeks - He was to be our honeymoon baby. When I collapsed at work and was rushed to hospital fearing an ectopic rupture, I knew that it wasn't life threatening. I thought I was ok, that I had just overdone it, and should have eaten breakfast. However, hearing the doctor say, after the ultrasound, "sorry the baby is dead," shocked the pants off me. I was litterally, stunned. I was young, not even twenty, and honestly, didn't even know what miscarriage was. And here it was happening to me.

The few weeks that followed, were horrendous. There was surgery, antibiotics, more antiobiotics, depression, confusion and just sadness. Matt went back to work pretty quickly, I had two weeks off before I went back. I thought I was ok, I thought that I had "delt" with it all, and was ready to move forward.

And then, It happened again.

Three months later, we were back in hopsital, me being scheduled for surgery to have another dead baby removed from my body, my emotional energy just gone. I was just numb, I felt sick. I felt like a failure, like i was the worst woman, the worst mother and the worst person for not being able to just have a healthy baby.

Again, life goes on and Matt went back to work. I also went back, but in a part time, temporary capacity. I was no longer enjoying my work in childcare, and I was no longer a happy person to be around. I felt like a vacuum, sucking the life out of everything and everyone around me, just so I could try and "feel something". 

Then, I did start to "feel". Overwhelming, awful emotions. It wasn't what I expected. It was resentment. It was Hate, Disgust, Hurt and Rejection. Humiliation. Despair. Anger. You name it, I felt it. Matt felt I needed space to just be, to survive, to get through it, and so he gave it to me.

How was he to know that what I really, really wanted, was to be held, to be supported, to just run away with him for months, and figure out our lives, which only 8 months earlier had been so perfect, when we were married.  He couldnt know, I'd stopped speaking to him honestly months earlier.

I didn't know myself anymore, I thought that my world was over, that I would be better if I was not here, not married. That Matt should divorce me, and find a "real" wife. One who could give him the babies that I kept losing. On some level, as ridiculous as it seems, I actually thought it would be better if he had never met me. Never fallen in love with me and never married me.

I quit my job. Childcare is just too hard when your baby has died. When two of them have died, and your only just twenty, and newly married - life gets complicated. It was, the worst thing I could have done.

I now found myself angry at the world, hurting and upset, And Alone. Home alone, all day, every day, for big stretches of time. I started drinking. Rarely at home, but in pubs, bars and clubs. I'd go out with a friend for a couple of hours - and not come home at all that night. I'd get so drunk i'd be sleeping in the corner of bars and then wake up to start again. I got escorted out of many pubs for being too intoxicated. I was a mess.

 I had an affair. To be accurate, I had two. Married 8 months and it was all falling apart.

The guilt nearly killed me. I know why I did it. I know what the motivation was, I know why I wanted to lash out, to hurt myself, and him. I know all of it. I told him about it. I left him. I packed up while he was at work, and moved out. I don't blame Matt for a single second of my stupidity. I don't blame him for even a nanosecond of it. It was all me. Every single detail. Was me.

I rang my mum in tears, and asked her if I could come stay at her house for a few days, while things settled down. She refused. Told me no. That broke my heart, that I wasn't welcome, really, really hurt me. She never appologised for that, even after I told her, before Ariana died, why I so needed her that day. I stayed in a backpacker's hostel, I got very drunk, I did stupid things. I raged internally at myself, and what I had become, and how I was destroying whatever I had left.

To say I was destructive is an understatement.

I wish I could say what the turning point was. I wish I could pinpoint at what stage I regained some semblance of self control. I don't know if it was when my best friend at the time, who I had been drinking with on a regular basis, tried to kill herself. Or maybe it was when I finally opened the floodgates at Matt and told him everything. Every single rotten detail. It might have been the day I came home for a change of clothes, and Matt begged me, with tears in his eyes not leave, not to go and keep doing this. Or to at least let him come with me. I still left, but I will never forget the look on his face, the tears, or the hurt. I don't know what changed.

I remember the pain I caused him. I remember the damage I did to him. I will never forget, the look in his eyes, when I told him I had cheated on him. I won't ever forget how instead of kicking me out, he held me close and told me that He loved me, and that he forgave me. Somewhere, around there, the healing began. I stoped going out, and drinking. I stoped lying to him. I started talking to him, trying to heal the rift, the hurt in our marriage. We moved back to my parents place, because we weren't coping. I'd sent us into financial despair, by drinking every cent we had. We lost friends. I got a job. I started spending every spare second with him. We didn't drink. We talked, a lot.

To this day, My husband is the strongest person I know. What I did to our marriage, to our trust, to our relationship, very nearly destroyed us. I treated him so very badly, I can't even read over what I've written so far without crying. I can't believe, even today that he stuck around. That he just instantly forgave me, and held me up, until I could stand on my own feet again. He is the most amazing man I know. I hope I won't be embarrassing him by writing this, We don't talk often about what I put us through, we moved forward, and put it behind us. In May we will celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary. I can't believe, that he stuck it out with me.

I need to write this. I need to have people in my world, who can see the signs, and can be strong enough to tell me - stop drinking. Or stop partying so much. Stop what your doing. I need to be accountable, to be honest, to not lie to myself. When I lie to myself, then I can lie to others. I can't trust myself not to fall into my old ways. I am at my weakest that I have been, in years. I have a daughter to live for, a husband to love, and to support. But I am human. And the thought that I might slip, that I might rewind my life back 4 years, scares me.

So I write this. I pour out my heart, my past, my history, my evil, in the hopes that in some way, my past can save me, that any person who reads this, and feels, either through my writing, or though my day to day interactions with them, that something is different, will help me. Will stand up to me, will tell me to stop. To think. To pay attention to what is really happening.

In so many ways, I'm ok.

But with this. I need help. I need your help. I need your honesty.

I can't go back to what I used to be. I won't. But I will need help, to recognise in myself, the things so terrible, I choose to ignore them.

The sign

of a good day, is when you meet an old friend for coffee at 9.30 in the morning, and don't leave until 4.30 that afternoon.

THAT is a sign of a good day. Apparently, we had a lot to catch up on. And, amazingly, I feel very good about it.

Decompressing was good, I didn't realise how much I needed to vent, to say things that I haven't been saying, to anyone, the things I haven't even been saying to myself.

I've been a mess these past few weeks. I didn't quite realise how much of a mess I had become, until talking to someone who has the training, and life experience to deal with my train wreck! She helped to to get perspective. It showed me that despite how much everyone else has been telling me that It's ok, that what I see, think and feel, is Ok, It really is Ok.

*gasp* Yes people, someone finally go through to me!

Now onwards and upwards to a happier, better me.

It's been a good day.

Please,

don't tell me you know how I feel, if you've never lost a child. I know people who have lost children, and I, having lost a child, don't even say that to them. Every person's grief is raw, their pain is unique.

Please, don't say you know how I feel. Just say your sorry. That you're thinking of me. And that you care.

That is all.

gently, gently

softly softly,

close your eyes your fight is done.

gently, gently,

softly softly,

breathe your last, no pain, no fear

gently, gently,

softly softly,

soar free, soar high

gently gently

softly softly

this love will hold you near

the face behind the story

the story is Mine.

it stems from my life experiences - good and bad, happy and sad.

i used to love my life.

then Ariana happened. Not so much as happened, as came into this world, sick, premature and fighting.

the world as i knew it ended on the 5th of january

i am a wife

i am a mother

i am a friend

i am a confidant

i am a supporter

i am a lover

i am a fighter

i am a blogger

i am grieving.

i am searching for a new normal. a new safety. a new realisation of life

i am not giving up

i will find peace

i will get answers

i will know why

i will tell my story

i will tell it the best i can

i will tell it as only i can

i will be honest

i will be emotional

i will be hurt

i will be upset

i will not lie

i will not hide

i will not run

i will be happy once more

i will try

i will succeed

most importantly, i will be

this is my story.

I know it's touching me,

and I know I love it. But I really, just can't figure out how to describe it. I read it over, and over, and over. I'm still going back to it almost every hour, to read it again. I love the way it flows. I love that I was invited to view, and to participate in it. I feel I'm not eloquent enough to do so, but I love that I was thought of. It is powerful. It is in it's infancy, but It is going to grow, so fast.

"It" is here.

I would love to say,

that losing Ariana hasn't changed me, that I'm still that person, the person I used to recognise.

Nowadays I have no idea. I feel like I don't know anything about myself any more. Like everything I knew has been torn away.

I know I'm stronger. I know I'm wiser, more courageous, more able, and willing than ever before to stand up and fight for what I believe, what I think and what I feel. I know thats the good stuff to come out of it.

But with the good, comes the bad. I've lost patience. I'm tired. I'm emotional. I'm strained. I'm not as willing to let stuff fall by the wayside. I'm more invested, perhaps too invested in relationships with people around me. I question everything. I jump to conclusions, I get angry, I get upset. I cry. I cry a lot. I wonder if it will get better, If I will get better.

I feel like I have a sickness inside me. It's nasty, and it's here to stay. It's called loss, and longing, and heartache, and despair.

I hope, that I'm strong enough to stop it from becoming bitterness. I'm really trying, with all that I have. I'm doing all I can think of, all I can imagine, to try and keep things going. To keep myself together. To keep my life, my world together. My family together.

I'm trying to be strong. I'm trying not to be changed, altered. I loved my life. I loved how it felt, how I fitted into it and what I knew and cherished.

Almost all of it is gone. I can't find any small steps of normality, nothing resembles what used to be. I feel lost, shattered and broken. I'm tired of fighting with people, explaining to people, worrying about people. I just want to be left, to be me. To heal. To recover. To find a way forward, without others wanting things from me, expecting things of me, and trying to force me in directions that I don't even understand, let alone know that I accept.

I can't be what everyone some want me to be. I never fitted into the mould very well before all of this, but now, I just don't want it anymore. I want to be accepted, the way I am today, and tomorrow.

I would love to say, that i'm not changed from all this. I would love to. But it would be a lie. I'm so different. Nothing is the same. And I'm so lost in the middle of it all, I don't even know which way is up anymore.

Peace

The Childcare centre Lucy attends, is a centre that has whole heartedly embraced the Montessori Education system. It is a wonderful learning environment, and one she thrives in, hugely.

The children there learn, what is known as the "peace poem". I believe it was actually by Ghandi (feel free to correct me!)

Only since losing Ariana, have I actually undertsood it's meaning.

"I offer you peace, I offer you love, I offer you friendship,
 I see your beauty. I hear your need. I feel your feelings.
My wisdom flows from the highest source.
I salute that source in you.
Let us work together for peace"

Now, it seems pretty powerful. And I am mighty glad Lucy is learning it.

Sharing the load

50/50?

Do you share the load in your home, with your spouse? Fairly? Equally? Or do you divide what you do, depending on who is home what hours/days?

I personally, am a firm believer in if I'm home, then the household duties fall to me. It is up to me to make sure the dishes are washed, the house is tidy, the washing is done and put away. I'm home, so I do it. I don't mind cooking the bacon that my husband has paid for. But if i'm also working, if we're both paying for the bacon - we both cook it.

Others, don't have this idea. Some split the work 50/50 all the way, regardless of who's been doing what at work. Others again just do everything, regardless of what they have had to do that day/week/month, their spouses wont help out. Everyone is different.

I struggle to explain it sometimes. And then, this amazing woman, wrote this post.

You should read it.

I have a confession to make,

one that I've already made to my husband.

I don't open the back door. I really don't. I'll open it ten minutes before he and Lucy come home, so it looks like it's been open all day. But It hasn't. I don't open the back door.

Why?

Because our next door neighbour is pregnant. I believe, she is due sometime next week. Ariana was due next week. On the 19th in fact. We've come down to 8 days until our precious girl was due to arrive in the world.

I was part of an online birth club. The ladies are wonderful, beautiful women. They are also all having their babies at the moment. Lots of newborns, and birth announcements appearing on my facebok page. To my credit (trust me it is!), i've been making sure to congratulate them all on their new arrivals, to be excited with them. I've looked at all the photos, grinned at the tiny outfits, marvelled at the tiny fingers and toes with them, for them. They supported me, I don't want to be bitter about their special babies.

But the lady next door? I don't even know her name. I know nothing about her. And I'm so jealous OF her that I can't even open the back door. I actually get angry when I see her! It seems cruel that she should live next door - that someone who is Exactly as pregnant as I was lives right next door.

I couldn't make this stuff up! But I really wish I was!!

I told Matt last night that I was feeling like that. A big step for me, I don't usually tell him that sort of stuff, I just tell myself to get over it. I told him last night. Bawled like a baby for ages. I didn't feel any better after I told him, this morning I still can't open the back door. But now I don't have to pretend. I guess that's a good feeling.

Stupid backdoor. Matt asked me if maybe we should move. I can't move because she is pregnant!!

Today

Ariana got two new friends.

Layla Grace sadly lost her fight with Cancer in the early hours of this morning. This amazing, beautiful toddler has been fighting for months, and finally, and lovingly, Jesus took her home. A dear friend of mine said that she doesn't think it's bad news, just sad news. After thinking about that for a few minutes, I realised she's right. It is so sad, that this little girl has gone from our world. But it's not bad. Bad is the cancer that has been eating at her for months. Bad is the chemo, the painful treatments and the agony she has been living in for all this time.

Baby Jacob is another precious angel lost to hydrops. His family went for a routine ultrasound this morning and found he had passed away, earning his wings after fighting for life for many long, exhausting weeks.

I find myself in the uneviable position of knowing more families who have lost babies, than who have had sucessful, healthy pregnancies, and then gone on to have happy healthy children. I'm not sure how I came to be this person. I've been trying to figure out, when in my life, God decided, that I would be the person who knew the horror stories, who knew the tragedies, and who people would turn to.

When in my life, was it decided that this was my lot, to support people who have lost babies, to lose them myself and to support my family through it?

If this is what i'm meant to be doing, then God, can you please at least give me the strength to do it properly. Today I'm so drained, I just want to run and hide. Apparently, I'm supposed to do this, but It would be nice if I felt like I can.

Sometimes I think,

I just can't get a break.

I'm back on antibiotics again. Despite healing incredibly well, and fast afer my c-section, it's become evident that somehow, an infection has managed to creep into my scar. It's not too painful, but the risk of additional trauma to my uterus is huge - so back to the drugs we go!

I can't believe that it's possible to get an infected scar nearly 9 weeks after the initial surgery!

Ohwell, if the drugs work, they might get rid of this persistant head cold i've been fighting off.

And next week - SWINE FLU INJECTIONS.

Woo Freaking Hoo.

So, I may not have mentioned

that I got myself a job.

That's right people. My sad, sorry unemployed self just became OLD news. Well, in actual fact it became old news on Friday, but I was all caught up in Ariana for the weekend, and am only just getting to my announcement now.

It's casual work, which is great. It's close to home, which is so even better. And It's not what i want to be doing. But that's ok. It's enough.

Some very wise woman told me the other day that "I am more". She's right. I am. And this job. Is enough.

I'm angry again,

but not for what you might think.

A couple of years ago now, I told my best friend of quite some years to never speak to me again. The reason I did this was a betrayal so deep, so selfish, and so totally wrong.

I cut ALL contact. I was completley heartbroken. What she did, very nearly destroyed my marriage. My actions caused the inital marital problems we were having. But then what she did, months after it was resolved, nearly caused us to divorce. A mistake perhaps, but one, that to me, is completely unforgiveable.

I cut her off, and after grieving, and being sad for a few weeks, got over it, over her. I stopped thinking about her. She ceased to exist to me. People asked me on and off about it, about her. I always told them the same thing  - "I don't think about her". It's true. The only time she even crosses my thoughts is when someone else says something about her.

Apaprently, she still reads my blog. This has pissed me off royally. I don't want her knowing a damn thing about me. About my family.

I want her to go away. Be happy, live her life. But stop reading about mine. You are not welcome. You are not missed.

Go live your own life, and quit reminiscing. Whatever your thinking about me, just quit it. I don't want your thoughts, or anything else to do with you. Ever. 

After a few healthy doses of procrastination

I think we finally found a church we fit into. A very smooth fit actually.

There wasn't anything "wrong" per say, with the church we used to go to. I just didn't feel comfortable there anymore, something about it felt too organised, maybe too clinical. That might not be quite the right way to put it, but it's all i've got right now!

We went to this church last night, that was amazing. Lucy had a great time, dancing and singing. She thought it wonderful. Within five minutes of walking in the door we'd been introduced to people around us and then left to suss it out for ourselves. No pressure. No forced conversations.

I really enjoyed it. I was nice to feel a part of something. It was nice to be back in Church, i've wanted to go for a while now, but i wanted to find one where we fit. As a family.

Maybe thats whats different about the one we used to go to - we went there pre-Ariana. This new Church, is our way to step forward. With people who didn't know us then and now, and can make comparisons. They accept us as we are today. Because they don't know us any different.

It's a good thing.

Meet the amazing people in my world -

Some don't leave their names, Others i've never actually met (most in fact!), and there are people who i know and have spent time with, but who still care enough to let me know they are thinking of us. THIS is what support is all about.

How i Cherish them all. x


Amber - "I know I only know you on facebook, through Jon. But I just wanted to say that you are an amazing person. I have followed (stalked slightly) you on facebook and your blog and after everything your family and you have been through, your still such  a kind, caring, strong, amazing, loving person. I know so many people that have had near perfect lives, and are so ungrateful. So thank you for sharing your story and a part of your life with us. You truely make me want to be a better person."

Catherine - " You are doing an awesome job with Lucy. You and Matt should be enormously proud of the way you have gotten her through it. Im sure its been really hard to do that when you are grieving so much yourselves. It has brought to light the great strength of character you both have. I have always believed that tragedy and crisis dont build Character, they simply reveal character. You are both made of very strong fabric."

Molly - "You are a good person, and a great Mom. Keep going, and we are here to hold you up when you need it".

Heidi - " ...handled yourself with amazing grace and consistently been there for others when you yourself are dealing with your grief. You amaze me with your thoughtfulness, your humor and how everyday you put one foot in front of the next."

Colleen - "You never need to appologise to us. We are here for you through thick and thin." "It took incredible strength for you to face that, and you have every right to vent and share this with us. That is why we are here. I wish we were closer to give you a huge hug. I know you could use that right now."

Hope - "I just read your blog. Some very very beautiful words, and some heartbreakers. Today is an angry day for me. I'm angry at the world."

Nikita - "your blog is well done Tam. I've just been reading it all."

Tiah - " I have spent the past hour reading your blogs about Ariana. They are so touching. You are a great writer".

Titanium - " You are more. You are a beautiful, inspired, thoughtful woman who loves with open heart, and arms, whose legacy is hope. Anger is the doorbell chime when Change knocks. Life, interrupted leaves necessary, righteous rage in it's wake. You are more. Exhale this, know that for every person that scrapes your last never raw, a hundred more wait in the wings, on a prayer - holding you in thought, in word and in hope. May peace find you Tam."

Sarah - "I just read through your posts and wanted to tell you that my heart goes out to you and your family. A mother should never, ever have to bury her child. Ever. I am so very sorry for the loss of your sweet baby irl. You and your entire family will continually be in my prayers. I am awed by your strength. Hang in there, and keep breathing in and out."

Cath - "I have NEVER encountered anyone like you. I have never seen such strength of character. In your darkest hours, and good Lord they've surely been dark this year, you have Always been able to find the strength to help other people in their time of need. I am not a traditionally religious person, but I know that Angels walk amongst us, and I truly suspect that you are one. Actually, I don't just suspect it. I know it."

Mel - " You are an inspiration!...you have not, and will not let your past define you. You take each day as it comes, good or bad, and move on with it. That by its-self is inspirational"

Anonymous - "Want to say that i wish i had your courage.....have followed you for ages, you are an inspiration to me, even when I am falling apart."

Anonymous - " Your an amazing woman, and an amazing mother....Just remember your amazing, strong, and courageous."

Anonymous - "I am so sorry you have suffeerd so greatly. I just wanted to thank you. Reading your story reminds me to be thankful everyday for my children even when i don't normally feel that way. Thank you and I so hope your future is brightened with the love of a third child."

Anonymous - "You amaze me, and I think it's so brave you sharing your story. All the best."

Anonymous - "You guys are a great testimony to so many. Could never imagine how you feel but you guys really amaze me how strong you all are. Stay strong and Thankyou tam for sharing your journey. Most people wouldn't, which makes you extremely brave, and a very very strong woman. All the best to you and your family".

Jan n Martyn- "How brave you are to share all of this with so many who's faces and tears of sadness you may never see. We are the people who share your grief because we have known the loss of a child so special that the Lord just needed them back. In time your gift from him will be revealed. Your heart will one day find some peace, but never will Ariana be forgotten for you gave her the gift of dignity to live. To be part of your family. Lucy will always be her big sister, and you and Matt will make it. Find your strength in each other now. God Bless You All"

Chantel - "Yep - you are DEFINITELY allowed to have angry days/weeks/months! You are also allowed to have really good ones. Whatever the weather looks like on those days honey, we are here. There is nothing you can do or feel or think or say that we wouldn't support you through."

The Harts - "What a positive attitude Tam, I know you can do it girl! You're strong, and bean is such a Valiant baby. It will all be worth it."

Charity Rose

lost her fight for life this morning at 5.35am.

Police are at this point, finalising their investigations, but it seeming likely that they will not be pressing charges against her grieving, devestated parents.

Ariana has more playmates in heaven, than Lucy will probably ever have here on earth.

Pray for their family.

Used and tossed away

well the title pretty much sums it up. To say that I'm not completley crushed is a lie. I am crushed.

How is it that I'm not invited? How is it, that after knowing you seperately, for over ten years, and as a couple since you met each other, That I didn't warrant an invitation. That I knew nothing, until i logged onto facebook and actively SEARCHED to find out.

How can you have wanted me at her birth. But not her dedication.

We counted you among our closest friends. You called me, in the middle of the night, for weeks, for help. I listened to every.single.complaint you have had about your life, your family, your work. Everything you've ever said. I spend days at your husbands bedside when he was in hospital. Depite the things we've had to deal with, I thought you were better. Stronger. Smarter. And kinder.

I know where I stand now. I guess I should have seen it coming.

You know who you are. You probably don't give a shit. I see that now. I just wish I had seen it earlier. I wish I had not invested so much time, so much love, and so much effort. I wish I didn't have to explain it to Lucy. She's had enough this year, don't you think. Despite every attempt I have made to not judge you, to let you be you, to deal with OUR losing a child in the way you needed to, You haven't been there. Not in the way we needed you to be. And that was ok. Because everyone deals with things differently. We didn't hold you in judgement for that. We let you be distant, because we didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

But this. This is a slap in the face. And frankly, I'm too exhausted, to broken, and to hurt to fight for it.

I'm done.

Charity Rose

So, today, Charity Rose went to hospital. She's 9 months old. She was in a walker, scooting around the kitchen while her parents watched on. What they didn't realise, was that she could reach the benchtop from her new position. She grabed a knife.

Good parents. Supervising their child. And still, It happened.

Charity has to have surgery. They aren't sure of how she will recover. They aren't even sure if she will live through the surgery. Somehow, she managed to stab herself between two ribs, and into a lung and who knows what else.

Right now, she is very very unwell. She is critically ill. The police may press charges of negligence.

Although it's not the same thing this is why I hate baby walkers.

They are so damn dangerous! So dangerous in fact, that Canda has made them Illegal. Anyone found in posession of a baby walker is fined up to $100,000.

Charity might not live. We are praying that she does. But there is a very good chance, that tonight, her parents will lose their only daughter. The daughter they struggled to concieve for four years. The daughter who they have loved, and cherished every single day. Their daughter.

They will never forgive themselves. Even if the police don't press charges. They will never.forgive.themselves.

Please. Don't use walkers. Your child's life is far too valuable.

Sometimes I read something,

that gives me goosebumps. Today, my goosebump moment was this.

That is one very special little boy. He lost his little sister Ava, to a tragic accident. Clearly, he has a quiet knowledge of things that most young children would not.

You can read about Ava, and her story here. Be prepared with the tissues. It's a heartbreaker.

How can it be.

Two months today sweetheart.

How have we survived, for two whole months without you.

For you my princess.

Love Mummy

Maybe i'm slow

at the steps of grieving, but the last 48 hours, I have just been so angry. I'm angry with everything. I'm not used to feeling out of control, to feeling like I have no self control.

I'm angry that I'm unemployed. I'm angry that I feel like I'm not contributing to the household in any way whatsoever. I'm angry that I feel pressured into going back to work, despite not feeling ready for it emotionally because of Centrelink. I'm angry that I'm home alone all day, everyday.

Im angry that we STILL don't have Ariana's autopsy results back. That they haven't contacted us for an appointment. I'm angry that I keep dreaming they forgot to do her autopsy, and now that she's been cremated it's too late, and we'll never know why. I'm angry that we still might never know why. I'm angry that everytime i get online, one person in particular asks, everytime, if we've heard anything. I'm angry that they don't understand how morbid it feels for me, to be asking all.the.time if we've got the results. The autopsy results on my dead baby. It hurts me to have to read that question, every.single.day.

I'm angry that when we eventually get the results, we will have to share them with family. I'm angry that not one single part of her life belonged to just us. For just us to remember. There were always others. We never had her to ourselves, for even one second. Not even in death. There was always someone else around.

Most of all, I'm angry that I feel like this. I'm angry with myself, for not coping better. For not knowing what to do about this anger. For not understanding how to redirect it, for not having something to distract me. I'm angry because I know that my anger, and hurt is affecting the people i love. I don't want to do that. I don't want to BE that person anymore! I'm sick of being angry, of being hurt, of being 'the mother who's baby didn't make it". I don't want to be that person anymore.

I want to be the mother of two beautiful, healthy daughters. I want to know why I'm not.

I just want to know why. And i just want to stop being so angry.

The entire weekend

was spent dodging torrential downpours.

Will it EVER stop raining over here?! Its been raining on and off sporadically for about a month now, and conisistently pouring for two days. Which is expected to continue for an entire.week.

Three days ago we had a Tsunami warning issued - complete with the very intelligent words from the BOM website - "do not go to the coast to watch the Tsunami". Thankyou so much, for assuming we're all morons! The Tsunami never eventuated, eventually they all just shook their heads, muttered about "safer than sorry" and very quietly cancelled the warning. Upgraded an hour later to "flooding and treacherous conditions expected". Because it wont stop bloody raining.

Somehow, Lucy managed to have the entire weekend without having a sleep. Which meant that by the time I came home from the hospital on Sunday night (more about that shortly), it was 9pm and she was zonked in the back seat of the car.

Matt woke her up for Kindy yesterday morning. It did not go well. She screamed blue murder, fell asleep on the toilet for a few seconds, then screamed more when she nearly fell in. (I admit I giggled.) She was just so tired she could barely stand up. I gave her the option of going to kindy, or going back to sleep in my bed. Twenty minutes later she was fast asleep next to me. We slept until just past 9.30 and then she was back napping in bed at 1.30. She fell asleep in the car when we ducked out to the shops last night and was back in bed by 6.30pm and slept the entire night. MUCH happier toddler this morning. She's gone off to kindy to play inside all day because it wont stop raining.

I am bitter about the rain. I'm royally sick of it. I'm quite litterally stuck at home in this weather - no car means public transport. FINE in FINE weather. This weather, well if you don't have webbed feet its not a good idea to venture out. Unless you want a cab. Which i do not.

I would like some sunshine. If someone could arrange that - it would be super.

The End, again.

Hydrops strikes again.

Fly high beautiful baby girl. Your Mummy and Daddy are lost without you.

Angel Baby Ayers - Gone to soon. x