An end and a beginning

Dear friends

As many of you know, this last week has been the anniversary of my daughters life and death. She would have been six, although I don't think of her as anything but a tiny little baby. Her construction was such that she wasn't built for this world. She just didn't have what she needed for a long life. To wish her to be alive also means to wish her to be other than who she was, and I loved her, as she was.

This year has been a significantly different anniversary for Jacob and me. During last year we decided to give up treatments after a ridiculous amount of IVF. I gave up counting cause it was too depressing but I know it was somewhere between 12 and 15 cycles, each one easier in some ways, as we knew what was coming and felt more in control of the process, but harder to find the courage to go back in, and open yourself to hope each time. In the end, it became harder to keep going then to stop. It wasn't easy to stop, just harder to keep going.

It actually took me over a year to make the decision to stop IVF and I kept doing cycles as I fought the idea that this could be it and finally realised I had nothing left. We'd walked to the bitter end of that road, and for unexplainable reasons, it never worked.

So Jacob and I stopped. And then felt sad.... we felt sad the whole way through, so this was nothing new. At least we had a bit more control in choosing to stop than in trying to keep going. We set about rebuilding, figuring out how to be a happy family of two. No mean feat but I think we did a good job. Time out together, boozy dinners with good friends, dog walking, yoga, beach swimming......

We planned a big holiday. Something fun to spend money on instead of IVF and we ended up spending 3 weeks in Sth America and then a week in San Francisco to visit Jakes friend. I also had the delightful experience of meeting bloggers in the real (nod to PJ and Luna!). Wise women a little ahead of me on this road, although each on a different path in terms of family. Hearing them both speak, and being heard melted some of the ice cold loneliness that loss and infertility brings when everyone around you is having babies. I can't really express enough gratitude for this. Big sisters who look me in the eye and are not afraid of what they see - the sadness, or anger, or heaviness, and who can see more than just those things.

Enjoyment crept back into our lives. Really, it had been there throughout although we had to work hard for it previously. It started coming more easily. The energy and momentum to do other things returned and we got stuck into life. I went back to work full time (first time in  since Maya died) and was doing some travelling to rural areas to support remote schools who had students with autism which was just lovely. I still had a few days in the classroom in the city so had a great city/country thing going on. Jake had a new job nearer home and started cycling to work. Nothing huge, just feeling free in doing normal things.

You may be wondering why I'm describing these things in a past tense. We were thinking about becoming foster carers for a while although it was on the back burner for a long time as we went through IVF. It was kind of there though, I'd notice articles in the paper, or stories others told me. Maybe???  Before our Sth America trip we quickly sent off an application to a foster care agency and they were in contact with us before we returned. The long and short is that we have become foster care parents for 2 kids under 2 (not twins). They're brother and sister. The older has already moved in, and the younger (2 months old) will be with us soon. They're in long term care so we'll be patching a family together. 

My 8 yr old friend Ruby asked me all the important questions when she was trying to get her head around what foster care was and why some kids would just move in with us. "What if they don't like you?" (We'll hang out and do fun things together and hopefully they'll get used to us) "What if you don't like them? (ditto) What if they don't like the dog? (let's hope they do cause I don't want to contemplate that one...) and, most obvious to a child and asked a number of times with some panic, "Where is their mum?" There is no easy answer to that, and being an incredibly empathetic child, I could see fear rising in her at the thought that possibly her  mum might not always be there for her and she might have to live with someone else. It kind of puts the right perspective on the process from a child's point of view.

Fortunately, I can say at this point, that little Benjamin does like us and we certainly like him. He also likes the dog (phew) who has proved a useful distraction when he is sad or cranky. We like his sister Hannah too although we are just getting to know her. Its hard to say whether a baby likes you back.

I was a little apprehensive about being asked if we could take in a baby girl. I have spent the last five years avoiding babies wherever possible. I know my triggers. It took me a while to realise that perhaps I wouldn't need to protect myself from a baby that was here to stay, rather than one I had to hand back and excuse myself as I ran off to cry. 

There are still scars that show themselves. I feel like I need a t-shirt with "imposter" written on it when I go to the park. I don't really identify with muminess and refuse point blank to join a mother's group although people tell me it would be good for me to do. I'm still terrified of gatherings of mums, and am not interested one bit in baby gear. I don't have a "philosophy" on how to care for a baby and am not  going to obtain one (other than the non articulated one that comes from who Jacob and I are) There are some things however that have been very easy. I am a good carer. I have always known that and it's a relief to have a place to put that energy and love. I'm also good at play which is serving us well. It's nice to see Jake be a dad to someone and there's a lot of joy that a two year old and their constant experiments (Can I put a chip in my toes and walk?)bring to a home. I sometimes hear Jake laughing at Benjamin and it makes me happy.

I also feel humbled when I spend time thinking about how others resolve infertility. I particularly feel grateful for those who have put the energy and love they have into looking after younger sisters on the road. I'm particularly thinking of Pamela (A Fresh Start) who has been so generous and such a strong advocate for those of us struggling with the king hit that is infertility. But many others, who write names in the sand, or inspire others to acts of kindness, write blogs, organise a blog roll or go off and live amazing creative lives in ways they may not have done. 

I guess I am trying to express my gratitude to you all, particularly those who have become friends, for helping me through what I desperately hope will be the worst days of my life. I am moved to tears when I think about what you have given me in sharing of yourself. I hope my blog and comments may have offered you something in return.

I'll be signing off from this blog. I have done what I needed to do.

Please be in touch with me at barbienance@hotmail.com if you choose, or if you are coming my way. 

I'd love to share a drink with you.

All my love

and happy birthday to my sweet girl. 

B 

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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?