Monday, 16 May 2011

On a 5th Birthday



It's my daughter's birthday today.

Is it possible to feel like a bad mother even when your child is dead?

I feel bad that I haven't spent ages thinking and crying about her these last few days. The thing is, I've spent more time thinking and crying about the failed IVF's, chemicals, and the miscarriage earlier this year, then I have thinking about Maya. I can't bring myself to spend hours staring at photos that are another year older, and cry. I feel like a sucky mum.

I'm guessing the tears for my sweet girl will come on Friday. I always crash on Fridays.

But in honour of her dear little life, here is a photo of Her Sweetness.




Heart.


Sigh.


Friday, 4 March 2011

A story

This one is for msfitzia, and also for me.


The Garden

Once there was a gardener who wanted to make a beautiful garden. She planted a tree and cared for it and the gardener’s family would watch it grow. As the tree grew, the neighbours came over to admire it. But it was soon clear that the tree was unwell.

The neighbours called on the name of The Great Gardner, claiming health and long life for the tree. The gardener also asked in her heart that the tree live. But the tree died anyway.

“Plant another there” called one neighbor.
“It’s for the best” said another.

But the gardener did not want another tree there. She left it standing, and built a small path around the base with a seat for her family to sit on. At Christmas, they put lights and an angel on it.

The gardener found a new patch of soil and planted another tree, but this one did not grow. She marked the spot where it had been planted with a large rock.

She tried again in a different spot, asking that this one may live. But it died as well. This time she built a pond where it had been.

“A crying shame” said the neighbours when they came round to visit. But they left quickly, feeling scared by the sight of the garden where trees died. “I know a tree will grow soon” they offered as they hurried out the door. And perhaps they believed the words they were saying.

The gardener continued to plant more trees. Each time, she tried something new, some extra food, a little more water, a sunnier spot. Each time, she pleaded that this one may live but each tree she planted died soon after. She watered the ground with her tears, and continued to mark the places where these little trees had been - a gravel courtyard, a box for birds to nest in, a dish for animals to drink from.

The neighbours did not come around much anymore. They had gardens of their own. Her heart ached when she saw their tall strong trees growing in the distance and she wondered why hers died.

Sometimes the neighbours discussed the garden with no trees. There was some disagreement over the gardener. “Surely she knows by now that she is just not a gardener! She should find something else to do” said one.
“She just needs to have more faith” the other disagreed, “then her trees would grow strong like ours”

But what the neighbours did not see was how precious this garden was to the gardener. They couldn’t understand why she spent so much time tending it. In the evenings, she would sit on the seat with her family, and feel sadness and longing, but she also felt peaceful there too.

One evening The Great Gardener went for a walk. He admired all the strong tall trees in the yards of the neighbours, and commented on their grace and health. But he stopped in front of our gardener’s place. He saw a little silver tree with no leaves. A path skirted around its base and the seat had also turned silver from the weather. A bird was darting in and out of the bird box and another was taking a bath in the dish. The gravel was raked into a pattern and there was a lizard sunning itself on the rock. Two water lilies were in bloom in the pond.

The Great Gardener smiled. “Beautiful” he said. And His heart felt warm because he knew this gardener shared his love.

Friday, 27 August 2010

Pop on over

And see me at my new other place.

I'm going to document my kitchen adventures. Any comments or links would be most welcome and I will happily return the favour.

xo

http://foodonyafork.blogspot.com

Thursday, 19 August 2010

A little miracle - the weedy sea dragon

Aren't these the best little critters?

I was first interested in them when reading Gould's Book of Fish and saw this picture in it.


The whimsy..... and the abandoned look in its eyes........

and if that is not enough magic, last night I saw this in a David Attenborough doco which you should watch. I think it's all I need to believe in God.

They hang out in the waters around Sydney although i have never seen one in the wild (have seen them in an aquarium). My cousin though, he is a marine biologist and sometimes he gets paid to go diving and count weedy sea dragons.

Sigh.




Friday, 14 May 2010

Your 4th Birthday



For your birthday, I made coconut ice for some of the people who loved you. I put it in a little origami paper box that I made, and wrapped it in bubble wrap and posted it to them.

It had a little note in it which read

" In memory of Maya, who would be four
and for all the others we have held in our hearts and hope"

And I am sorry that you have to carry all that weight. That somehow, the death of other little tiny sparks of hope get hitched onto your death. That your death becomes more than your death, it becomes a symbol for all the little deaths, and eventually, the death of hope.

It is not fair of me to put this on you. But I am so sorrowful and I don't know where to put all these other little deaths. They break my heart too, just as your leaving did, but they go so silently, and unmarked. I want them known too, at least a little. So I let them hitch a ride with you. And I let others use your name as a short hand way of expressing all the grief and pain of these four years. I do it myself sometimes. I can barely tell where one sorrow ends and the others start.

But I am sorry for this. Because, it's not yours to bear. It swamps the memory of your sweetness, as if all you ever brought to us was sorrow, when in fact, what you brought was joy.

So I made coconut ice. It seemed fitting for a four year old girl, or the idea of such. Pink and sweet, a little old fashioned, nostalgic, a taste of childhood.

I will be dreaming of you this birthday. Aching, when I wake and loose you again.

Little girl

I love you.

Love your mum

Tuesday, 23 February 2010

You see

The pee stick did have two lines on Friday, and again on Saturday. Which is what made me think that just maybe I could give up IF for lent. The "yeah right" was you know, being superstitious as we all are, me pretending that it wouldn't happen so that it would.

I thought it would.

I really did.

But on Monday you couldn't see the second line, only a shadow where the line might be if there was going to be one. And today my beta was a big fat 4.

Why does my body not hold on to my babies?
Why don't they stick?


Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Lent



This year, I'm giving up infertility.

Ha. Yeah right.


(as long as I don't get it back after Easter).