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.



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.