So long 2012, its been a tough one

A New Year is almost here.

Strangely, this makes me sad. You would think I would be glad to see the back of 2012 and in a way I am but I am also very sorry to see this year come to a close.

Cordelia was born and died in 2012. A very important year in my life. In fact; it is probably the most important year in my life. Even more life changing than 2010-the year W was born. I will never be the same again-that is not all bad either. I am a more compassionate person now.

I have been feeling a lot of anxiety towards the end of the year. We turned down the one invite we had to a party as I was too scared to be anywhere but in my home. I am not sure how I am going to feel as the clock strikes 12 and we reflect on this most challenging of my 34 years. How can I feel anything but sad? There will be glimmers of happiness too but they will be overshadowed by immense sadness. We lost our so wanted little girl this year. I do not want to be surrounded by people I don't know very well while I am feeling vulnerable. I want to be safe in my home, cry if I need to and not worry about other people seeing me.

I am sad to see the door close on this year because I am not ready to let go yet, I feel that a new year forces us to forget what happened in the last year and move on, make this year new year better than the last. Write it off like it didn't happen-but it did happen. I wish I could re-write our story but that is impossible. I feel time is pushing me further away from Cordelia and there is nothing I can do about that.

I do not want to add this extra distance of a new year between me and Cordelia. It will no longer be 'her' year. I want to hold her close to me still. I want her memories to be fresh. I know in reality nothing will actually change when the bells finish ringing and it is 2013. My heart will be just as broken, my life will be just as upside down so why am I so apprehensive about a change in a bunch of stupid numbers. I am a bereaved mother and it doesn't take much to set us off. Christmas was hard but for me the new year is harder. It just is.

I hope we have some nice things to look forward to this coming year. I know we have some hard things still to come for us in 2013. Cordelia's first birthday. The first anniversary of her death. Easter. Wren's first birthday since Cordelia passed away. All these things to handle. I am exhausted already just thinking about the challenges we still have yet to face-for this year and every year after. But I have hope. A twinkle here and there of good things that will happen to us-they have to. Perhaps we will welcome another baby in 2013. Hopefully my husband will get one of the jobs he recently interviewed for. Maybe I will find some direction in my life. Fingers crossed for us and all the other baby loss families that good things will happen to us this coming year. We deserve it!

Here is to a gentle 2013.


E
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Christmas 2012

We knew this Christmas would be hard, that our hearts would not be in it. We tried our best though, for W's sake. W is at the age where Christmas is very magical. Santa is oh so real and exciting. Reindeer can fly. Mummy and Daddy are super heroes. Life is exciting.

I think we did a pretty good job all things considering at keeping it together for her.

We have a tree, presents, Christmas music, lots of food but we are missing Cordelia. No matter what we do or how hard we look for her. There were no presents under the tree for her, no Christmas dinner for her, no excited smiles from her. We did our best to include Cordelia this Christmas though. We asked our friends and family to do Random Acts of Kindness in Cordelia's name. We were overwhelmed with the amazing things our friends did and I will share that all in the next few days. We still have some to open as each one makes us cry. It is taking us a long time to get through them all. Happy and Sad. I am touched by these acts of kindness but I wish we were watching Cordelia open gifts in her stocking rather than us opening pieces of paper with kind deeds written in them in her honour. It is not fair.

Cordelia would be almost 9 months old now. She would have enjoyed tearing paper off gifts and sampling her first Christmas dinner. She would have worn a pretty dress. Maybe had a clip in her hair. She would have some cute teeth and be sitting and crawling. In my dreams this is what I see and she is soo beautiful. So beautiful and happy. In my dreams.

Back in the real world, we do have W though and for that I am grateful. She is getting us through this holiday. She has kept us busy and made us laugh when we needed it. She has hugged me when I have been sad and asked if I was sad because of Cordelia. My sweet girl. I do not want  her to live under Cordelia's shadow. It is hard getting the balance right sometimes. I mustn't miss out on my future with W because I am looking too hard at my past with Cordelia but the past is all I have of Cordelia. I only have memories of her and I will not get to make new ones with her. How can I look anywhere but back?

I knew this Christmas would be hard.

We did get pleasure from watching W open her presents and playing together. Happy and Sad. It was a nice quiet Christmas, the 3 of us. No pressure from anyone or anything. Our own time frame. My husband and I did not do gifts for each other this year. What could I possibly want besides the obvious. We made sure W was adequately spoiled but not too much, there are even gifts under the tree for her still. She is not greedy.

Cordelia was missed very much this Christmas and will be for every Christmas. For the rest of my life. Always. I guess the pain will lessen over the years but the truth will always be there. Cordelia is missing. Part of my heart-missing. Always.
 

E
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When it rains it pours

And it is pouring.

My plate is full-too full. In fact I am worried I am about to drop it, breaking into a billion little pieces. My life; on the floor. A mess.

Last night was the the final helping of bad shit this lady can take.

My poor sweet W fell backwards off the dining room chair and badly cut her head open on the radiator. There was blood. I panicked. Tried to keep calm for W's sake, I was so glad my husband had just got home from work. I do not deal well in these situations. I really don't know what I would have done if I had been alone. Of course I thought the worst. I know bad stuff happens. I was so terrified. We took W in a taxi to the kinderspital which is right next to the women's hospital where Cordelia was born. It all felt a little too deja vu for me.

We ended up spending close to 5 hours at the hospital last night. She had to be sedated to have 3 stitches and even under sedation 4 people had to use all their strength to hold her down. It was very distressing-for her and us. Thankfully she is OK though. Another long night for us. Worrying. I was so strung out by the time we got home at about 1 am I could barely think. We had to keep waking her in the night last night just to make sure she was not showing signs of concussion. She smells of hospital still, it is quite unpleasant. She napped in our bed today and now my pillow smells of hospital too. Memories of Cordelia are strong tonight. Smells, memories, fear, sadness. When we got home our dinner was still sitting in the cold oven half cooked, the salad I was preparing still in mid prep on the counter. We had just dropped everything and gone.

Sounds familiar.

Since Cordelia passed away I have been very fearful of all my family's health. I worry about W getting sick or having an accident. I worry about me or my husband getting ill, I worry about mental health. I worry about my siblings, my parents, my friends. Mostly I worry about W. I need to protect her. She is my everything. It is hard to find the balance. How do I let her live a normal life when there are hazards everywhere. In my own house too! Should I remove all the chairs? Wrap the radiators in foam? How do I avoid becoming a mother who is not bat ass crazy?

I have just seen how long this post is and I haven't talked about the other stuff on my plate. I just feel overwhelmed right now. I feel that drowning sensation in my chest. I can't breath. I am alone.

I even called my sister on Sunday day to talk with her, she was tired-had been out late-could she call me back later?. She never did. I know her life is busy but I can't help feeling so alone in circumstances like that. I could have told her No- I need to talk but I felt bad I had woken her up-told her it was OK-go back to sleep.

I need a break.

I need some time to myself-even just a few hours doing something nice.

We need a break.

We need some good things to start happening in our life's again.

I need support.

I feel I am about to break. I wish we had family and friends close by. It has been such a long and hard 8 months for us. We have done this alone too. No rest. No 5 minutes. No one to help with W. No one to help with the house. No one to take care of stupid stuff for us. Little things are mounting into big things. My house is falling apart. Weird things are happening to me, I itch-incessantly. I keep dropping/spilling stuff. I am tired. Christmas is not helping matters either. I am over thinking everything too. Everyday another friends pregnancy is announced or a baby is born it seems too. Everyone else's lives are going according to plan. How wonderful for you all.

I don' know how to end this post. I could ramble on but I won't. I am going to go to bed to see if I can sleep but the sound of W's head hitting the radiator and her crying is haunting me. I feel ill.

Night.

E
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Random Acts of Kindness

I found this idea over at Small Bird studio where Franchesca is hosting a project called 12 days of Christmas without you with guest bloggers from our community. There are ideas on how to cope with the Christmas season, angel ornaments tutorials and other projects to do for our sweet babies. Mattie from Beauty Will Rise guest blogged the idea of Random Acts of Kindness in your child's name in last years' 12 days of Christmas. I knew this was the prefect idea for us to include Cordelia this Christmas as soon as I read it.

I spoke to Mr M about it and he agreed that it was a nice way to include Cordelia as well as our family and friends overseas. Cordelia's sister and cousins will be opening gifts this year and it is not fair that she isn't here to do that. So instead Cordelia's gift is a gift to others-the gift of kindness which in turn is a gift to us.

A few days ago we sent the email and made a post on Facebook asking our friends and family to commit a Random Act of Kindness towards a stranger between now and Christmas and to think of/dedicate the act to Cordelia while they are doing it.

The act does not need to involve money and it can be as simple as holding the door open for someone. Once the Random Act of Kindness has been performed we have asked that our friends and family email us with the email subject 'Cordelia's Kindness' so we know not to peek. We will print them off without reading them and place them in Cordelia's stocking. On Christmas morning we will open them and read out all the kind things that have been done in Cordelia's memory.

What a sweet way to remember our beautiful little girl this Christmas.

We have tried to make remembering Cordelia as positive as we can. After she passed away we asked friends to make donations to children's charities in lieu of flowers. It makes my heart hurt just a little less to know that other kids out there may be getting life saving equipment or medicine because of those donations made in Cordelia's name. Similarly I am hoping that these Random  Acts of Kindness may make a small difference to people and our society. It could make someones day. Sometimes it is the small things in life that make the big difference. A friendly smile to a passer by could be the only smile they get that day. It makes me feel a bit warm inside knowing that we can impact peoples lives even in the smallest way with our love for Cordelia.

I am hoping that the thought of our friends and family doing nice things for people will help this Christmas to be a little easier on us, although really there is nothing that will take the pain away. I have no doubt in my mind that I will cry while reading the notes we receive. I expect we will not be able to read them in one go but I do expect to get some comfort knowing our little girl is making an impact on peoples lives for the better.

Of course I wish with all my heart that she was with us, I didn't ever dream in a million years that her first Christmas would look like this. Who would. But this is what this Christmas looks like, no matter what. So I am making every effort as hard as it is to make it a special one-for all of us, including my sweet Cordelia.

Please feel free to commit a Random Act of Kindness in Cordelia's name too.

E
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Remembrance Service

So last night Mr M and I went to a non religious remembrance service for babies/children who have died  at an all denominations church. The service was mostly in German however there was an English translation provided so we could follow the service.

We are not religious people but we thought it might be nice to go. We got the baby sitter for W for a few hours so we could dedicate a little time just to Cordelia. I am really glad we did this because as soon as we walked into the church the tears starting flowing-furiously, there is no way I could have juggled W as well. The worst part of it was we had forgotten tissues. Seriously! Where is my head sometimes. I had a few napkins in my pocket and that was it-we had to make do. It was a very emotional evening for us, I have not seen Mr M cry like that for a long time. It was good for us both to let go, hold each other and cry, cry, cry. We try to be so strong all the time but not last night, last night we crumpled and fell apart at the seams.

I miss Cordelia soo much.

The theme of the service was darkness and light. There were 4 stages for us to go through. Firstly we poured water with our hands from one vessel into another to symbolise our tears. The second stage was to read our child's name out. Neither of us felt strong enough to do that so Cordelia's name was read out for us. The third stage was to place a tea light on the floor at the altar area and have a moment of thought/prayer. The fourth stage was to light a sparkler at the end, the light after the dark. The service was really sad but beautiful. I felt connected to the other parents as we were all grieving for our children. I did not feel the need to hide my tears, for once they were on full display for all to see-I didn't care. I knew everyone felt the same. It was OK to do this here.

I was hoping to meet some other English speaking parents but I didn't see anyone else holding the translated service so I think we may have been the only ones besides the lady who translated it. I know we are not the only ones here in Basel though. Maybe they did not know about the service.

After the service we had to get back to W and the babysitter. She must have wondered where we had been as it was obvious we had both been crying heavily -some date she probably thought. We had lots of cuddles with W the rest of the evening. I felt so exhausted and near tears all night. A few more were shed, I just couldn't stop them. We watched Saturday nights xfactor final (we are always a day behind) to distract ourselves which worked OK until Gary Barlow sang Rule the World-a song I used to sing to Cordelia. I couldn't help bursting into more tears. That song it so bittersweet for me now.

Family time away

We have been away the past few days. We took a short break to Nice, France. My husband had a one day work shop there so we tagged along and went a few days earlier so we could have some family time away.

It was so therapeutic to be by the sea, watching the waves rolling in, crashing against the shore. What was especially nice was the sunshine. We have had a lot of rain and grey days here recently so it was a double bonus to be at the beach with the sun shining on our pasty white faces.

Water and the ocean have been particularly significant to me since Cordelia died. I swim somewhat regularly now and crave the ocean and its waves. Before we moved to Switzerland we were living on the West coast of Canada, we saw the ocean every single day. Bliss. Now it is something that I miss a lot.

We spent a lot of time on the beach just looking out at the vastness, cloud formations, little boats and even some brave swimmers. W of course had a great time too. We threw some rocks into the water and said ' We love you Cordelia' as they splooshed into the water. Those rocks will be there for ever now, rolling around with the waves. Our love all over them.

We have had quite a few busy days recently and there is lots to write about but we have friends arriving in an hour for the weekend, I will try to squeeze some posts in if I can.

We have done a nice thing to remember Cordelia this Christmas which I will share ASAP and also this Sunday we are attending a non religious church service for babies who have passed away. Not something I ever dreamt we would be doing this Christmas.

E
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Prams

I am not sure why this one bothers me so much.

But it does-in a big way.

I was so excited when I was pregnant to be looking at new prams for my two sweet girls. We weren't really buying much for Cordelia as we had all of Wren's stuff but something that was really important to me was a nice new pram for them both. Don't ask me me why, it just was.

I had bought second hand prams for Wren and always wished I had had a nice new shiny one for her. We knew Cordelia would have reflux problems as part of her recovery so I wanted her to have a nice little bassinet to be pushed around in. I think I put a lot of the stress of the pregnancy into looking for the perfect pram, there was a lot more going on in my head than just pram researching. If I found the perfect pram then everything would be perfect. Not the first or last time I will say something like that on this journey.

I finally found the perfect pram for my girls and on Saturday 31st March a friend drove me to Germany to buy it. I was so excited! The timing was perfect, it would arrive just before Cordelia was born even though I knew we still had extra time as she would be in the NICU for some time after her surgery but we would have it at home-ready and waiting for her. I had all the fluffy images in my head of pushing my two beautiful girls around, everybody happy. My perfect little family.

The strange thing is, that after I actually bought the pram something shifted. I didn't feel good about it for some reason. I had an uneasy feeling. I put it down to shoppers guilt. I had after all just spent what I consider to be a whack of cash.

Cordelia was born 4 days later.

Hmmm.

Do I think that the pram was a jinx? Sometimes. Ridiculous I know but there it is. I had always been a bit nervous of buying stuff during my pregnancies. Even with Wren we waited a very long time before we bought clothes, pram, crib etc.

Sometimes, I curse that f'ing pram. Seriously. I do.

After Cordelia passed away my friend cancelled the pram order for me. She didn't really want to bother me with this but the shop had said they would keep my deposit. I didn't care at that point although I thought it was disgusting. She said she would see what she could do. To this day I have no idea if they gave me my deposit back, I never checked my statement. I really don't care, it doesn't change anything real in my life.

When I chose my pram I hardly saw any of them around, in fact I think I had only seen 1-even though I was looking out for them. Now I see it all the bloody time. Damn pram. I see the happy mums pushing their 2 kids around. I deserve to push that pram just as much as those ladies do, so why aren't I?

About 2 months after Cordelia passed away, I did get a new pram. A small light weight city pram that holds only one child. A new pram-just not the one I had been dreaming of.

Out of place

So today I went to the zoo with W and some friends. I was apprehensive to go as I am still feeling quite low and I am fighting a cold on top of it.

I had told Mr M to stay at home as he took W swimming yesterday while I did some 'me' things so I thought I would return the favour, he also has a job interview tomorrow to prepare for. I got to the zoo and all my friends had their husbands with them which made me feel like I stood out even more than I feel I already do.

I felt really out of place today-even though I was with my friends. Partly because my other half wasn't there but mostly I just felt different. I am different. I realised how lonely I am even when I am surrounded by friends. Watching them joke and laugh easily with one another just made me feel even more distanced from them and my old life-more lonely. While they are happy, I am sad.

I felt like I didn't fit in anymore.

One of my friends suggested that I must be OK now, quite a few months have passed. I know she didn't mean for it to sound the way it did and I am not angry at her-more upset that she doesn't get it. I know she can't 'get it' but she could understand a little more. I reminded her that grief is not a straight line, it goes up, down, back and forth and that right now I was actually feeling pretty down.

source unknown

 Everywhere I looked there were seemingly happy little families enjoying a nice day out at the zoo. It was all a bit much for me. I made a hasty exit only saying goodbye to one of my friends asking her to say goodbye to rest for me. I just needed to get out of there-quickly. To come home. To feel safe and secure again. To the place where I can be me-whoever that is right now.

Not waving but drowning

So I had been feeling OK recently. As far as a recently bereaved mother can actually feel 'OK'. I was functioning reasonably well.

I am not sure if I have ever described my grief to anyone before. To me it feels like drowning. Like I can't breathe, gasping for air but my lungs are filling with water instead-suffocating me. My grief feels like I am in a whirlpool spinning round and round and I am being dragged along-getting dizzy and trying to stay afloat, my arms flailing around in a state of panic. I can see and feel the draw to the centre of whirlpool-the black oblivion. Right now the water is particularly fast and rough and I am being swept round and round, I can see the centre but I am not as close as I have been in the past. I will not fall in.

I started to feel the downwards turn last night, the heavy weight in my chest. We received Cordelia's name written in the sand by Carlymarie yesterday. I have been checking my email daily- eager for it to arrive, terrified for it to arrive at the same time. Would I be brave enough to open it? To look at it? What if it wasn't all I hoped it would look like. I knew it would make me feel emotional so my husband and I looked at it together last night after W had gone to bed. It is beautiful. Of course when I looked at her name there in the sand it all seemed so real again, so raw.

My baby's name is written in that sand because she died.

That makes me feel sick. I am finding it hard to express myself. Emotions can be so hard to describe. I think it just brought up a lot of feelings that maybe I had been suppressing in an effort to be normal. I swear I could actually feel Cordelia in my arms last night, her exact weight-right there. I still can't believe that she is not here sometimes.

When I went to bed I had another cry. Something that I used to do every night but haven't so much recently. When I woke this morning I still felt heavy. I took W for a walk with my friend but couldn't keep it together and ended up having another cry while pushing W on the swings. W is sick right now and is particularly hard work because of that which probably does not help my general state of mind either.

I was expecting this 'down' time to come, hoping it wouldn't but knowing it would, I have had cycles like this before. I just emailed a baby loss mum friend last night saying as much, I just didn't realise that a few short hours after I sent that message I would be feeling so low again.

Empty cradle, broken heart

This book by Deborah L Davis seems to be staple reading for bereaved parents and rightly so. It quite possibly saved my marriage. It wasn't until we read this book that we understood how and why we were grieving so differently, it allowed us to accept that and let each other do what we needed to do, not what the other person thought was 'right'. The parents in this book are open and honest, they tell it like it is. They have experienced a loss and have lived to tell their story.

They have lived-survived this nightmare.

Something I thought I was no longer going to be able to do.

As I held Cordelia in her last moments I actually thought my heart was going to stop beating the exact moment hers did. I mean, how could I, her mother still live when she had to die. It is not the way things work, we got the order wrong, me first then her. Only once she was a happy old lady surround by her own loving family of course.

But here I am, 7 months to the day that she passed away. I am surprised I am not feeling more sad or bitter today. I think I am trying to ignore today a bit, trying to make it a bit easier on myself. I am sad but I am trying hard not to be. I miss Cordelia so much but here I am still living, still breathing, still surviving.

It is hard work, exhausting actually but I am doing it. I am going to make it through this.

Is this something that I should be proud of? That I have made it this far? That I haven't fallen into a permanent black hole of depression and booze? I have had my share of times when I didn't think I was going to make it, those were very long dark days that thankfully don't seem to knock at my door anymore. I still have a long way to go but I feel I am making progress, either that or I am just in an 'up' time.

I am no different to any other bereaved mother out there but maybe we should be more proud of ourselves for making it (for those that have) or knowing we are going to make it even though we are not 'there' yet. What I mean by that is not that we will get over our babies or forget them. No-far from it. I mean when we get to the point where we can function somewhat normally on a daily basis, when we can think about our babies and smile instead of cry. When we can crack a smile and not feel guilty for it. When the good days out number the bad. When we feel less pain, anger, guilt, shame, sadness or what ever else torments us.

I think a time like this exists. I am not there yet but I have to believe in a future where there is light, happiness and some laughter. The parents in this book help me believe that life after loss is possible. I will be able to exist and live with this permanent Cordelia shaped whole in my heart. That somehow life does go on.

My job will be to make sure that Cordelia's memory goes on too, that she will not fade from memory when I am no longer around. That she mattered. She did, she does, she always will.

Love and miss you Cordelia.

Pinterest

Pinterest.

I have become addicted. I used it a little bit before we had Cordelia but it was a few months after we lost her (gosh that sounds like we left her at the park or something) that I started to use the Internet and sites like Pinterest again. I can spend hours in the evening on it now.

And I mean hours. Entire evenings can disappear into a 'pinning' frenzy.

I have had several obsessions in the wake of Cordelia's death; cleaning, organising, making home school supplies for W to name a few. Did I mention cleaning? All of these obsessions have been aided by my addiction to Pinterest.

There are just so many ideas out there. These perfect images that I idealise, the perfect linen cupboard where all your towels and bedding are there beautifully folded and stacked, the pantry where you can actually see all the food supplies without having to empty half of it to see the back row, the child looking so happy doing 'letter of the week' activities for hours on end. I have realised now (after many sweaty panic filled hours and sleepless nights) that these pictures are just pictures. To not punish myself for my house not looking that perfect, to not feel disappointed that the activity that I printed, laminated and lovingly cut and glued/velcro'd or stuck magnets to that took 2 hours to make only caught W's attention long enough to glance at it on her way to the computer to ask for more cartoons please. *Sigh*. The women who's house these perfect images and perfect kids belong to are not like me, they are not grieving for a lost baby.

They are normal.

I am not.

Not Anymore.

I know why I have these bouts of obsessive behaviour but it doesn't stop me from jumping right in. I don't have them as much as I used to in the beginning. They usually don't actually make me feel better anyway. While I am trying to make my linen cupboard look perfect I know it never will be that perfect or that it would look good but only for 5 minutes. I would still feel defeated, stressed that I would never achieve perfection in a world where perfection no longer exists. Doing these things however gave me something else to focus on when I needed to. A temporary diversion.

At least I wasn't hitting the wine bottles right?

Usually I  realise that things were getting a little out of control. Like when I can't sleep at night because I am worrying about not being able to get something that I think I desperately need but in reality I don't need at all. It won't fix anything. It won't change how I am feeling, it won't bring Cordelia back or take this pain away, but in those obsessive moments I think they will-somehow. If I can make everything perfect then everything will be perfect. Right? Crazy I know. I know that-now.

There is no magic cure for grief, no escape. No way to avoid it. It must be dealt with. It is hard work though. Confusing. I am never really sure if I am doing it 'right'.

Despite what I have written, I really feel Pinterest has been a good thing for me and my grief. There is even stuff on there relating to grief and baby loss too. I was surprised. It's not just fluffy stuff.

Using Pinterest gives me hope that one day I will feel up to creating some of the projects I have pinned, that I will travel to some of the destinations I have drooled over. Cook some of the recipes and make some of those delicious cocktails in my drinks board. Surely it must be a good thing that I feel that one day I will do these things. That I want to do these things, nice things. One day. That I do see some kind of future for me and my family.

I am not pressuring myself like I did before to do and make everything NOW. There is no rush. I know my house will never be picture perfect. I don't think I want that anyway. Life, I know is not perfect. I have learnt that lesson the hardest way possible.

For now, my pins are sitting there waiting for me when I am good and ready.

picture courtesy of jeffbullas.com

Facing fears

So last week I did something really hard.

I visited a friend who just had her baby.

I wasn't going to do it. I was going to risk losing another friendship. Be even lonelier than I already am. In fact, in my head I had already cut the ties when she had told me he was born. Another one bites the dust I thought. I didn't think I had any other option. But I did, I just was too scared to do it.

My therapist is the one who advised me to go. Thank you. She knew that if I didn't go now it would just get harder for me. I knew that if I didn't go now that I would avoid my friend forever. I just didn't know how to do it. I didn't think I would be able to do it. I needed someone to tell me I could, to tell me that I needed to. I needed direction from someone. I was feeling lost and confused. I didn't want to make another bad decision. So I promised my therapist I would go. To help me keep my promise I went and bought an outfit for the baby and a gift for his older sister so she wouldn't feel left out. I had to go now.

This is not the first baby born since we lost Cordelia by far but a significant one. 10 other babies have been born in the last 7 months to friends all over the world. Number 11 will be here soon. Ouch.

Most of these babies live overseas. Thankfully. I don't have to see them if I don't want to. I don't. The difference with this baby is that his mumma has been one of the few people who I feel has been there for me. Strangely it didn't bother me that she was pregnant. She never rubbed it in my face (unlike the mother of baby number 11). She didn't wince when I mentioned Cordelia's name, she listened with full attention. Gave good advice, let me cry. It must have been hard for her too. To be around someone who's baby had died while being pregnant herself. I was worried that she would think I was bad luck to be around, she didn't. I think that is what makes me like her even more. She of all people should have been the one to shy away but she is the one who stepped forward.


So my friend and I arranged a time. I took the tram there. Tried not to think about what I was about to face. As I was nearing her house I realised that the last time I was there was when we picked W up right after Cordelia had died. Shit. I felt a little queasy to say the least.

He was perfect-beautiful. I was nervous. Scared. I didn't freak out, didn't try to steal her baby, didn't run away. We had a cuppa tea together. I even held him. That was scary. I wasn't sure how I would react. I was a little sweaty. I cried. Cried for my loss. Cried for how perfect he was. How perfect my Cordelia had been too. It was weird to hold him but I did it. Just for a few minutes. It did help that he is a boy. I don't think I could have done it if the baby was a girl.

I was worried about crying over her baby, I didn't really want to do that, this baby was not Cordelia. So I tried to be a strong as I could. We talked about how hard it was for me to be there, how I facing a really big fear by being there. My friend was very touched that I came, she acknowledged how hard it must be for me and that she really valued our friendship. I think she thought like I had that our friendship would be over or horribly changed. It so could have easily been like that, if I had done what I was going to do originally. It is hard work  to be a baby loss mumma in soo many ways, but I don't want to lose another friend so I did it. I was brave.

My friend's husband gave me a lift home-just like the last time I was there. This time it was different though. I thought about the last time I was in their car. How I was feeling. Mostly complete shock. I don't think I spoke a word. This time we did talk. We talked about Cordelia, how we are getting on, how life is for us now. He was interested, he cared. It was nice that he asked. Thank you.

Roller coaster

The Herbstmesse is on right now, one of the best times of the year in this city. It truly comes alive. There are fair rides all over town , amazing food stalls, markets and a huge Ferris wheel. I didn't go on any rides last year as I was pregnant. Wren did though. Seeing all these rides around town got me thinking about the ups and downs of my grief.

Grief is often described as being on a roller coaster and and I can really attest to that. It has more ups and downs and loop the loops than I care for, there are unexpected dark tunnels that seem to have no light, then out of nowhere you are spat back out into the harsh lights only to be dumped back into darkness a short time later. There are also the occasional long stretches where the ride makes you feel nothing-nothing at all , then whoosh-another loop the loop out of nowhere. Sometimes I do not know which way is up. I can always tell which way is down though.

It is the speed of the roller coaster with its ups and downs that can be especially difficult and confusing I find. I have often felt like I have been going crazy these last few months, like genuinely crazy. Like who am I crazy. My emotions can change within seconds and without me even realising it. It can be hard to keep up with erratic emotions, just when you understand how you are feeling bam, another change, wait-slow down, I need to breathe!

It can be hard for those around us, how can they gauge how to behave and what to say when our emotions are so erratic. I often don't know what I want to hear so how can I expect them to know? But I do. I want so desperately for people to know what to say. To make it better. Impossible I know. There is no magic cure to this, no words or actions to make the pain go away.

I used to like roller coasters but not anymore, not just since we lost Cordelia, I think the older I get the more I realise that I like the quiet life, no thrills or spills, just a nice smooth, mellow happy pace, more like a carousel where I can slowly watch life go by at a relaxed normal pace.
 

Halloween

Halloween is fast approaching . Usually I love Halloween but this year I am not so much. I am trying to make an effort for W's sake but really it is pretty half arsed. Normally I would go all out, crafts, decorations, themed snacks etc. We did do a small pumpkin -nothing fancy but W thinks it is pretty cool which is all that really matters.

Thankfully it is not such a big deal here but the English speaking kids organisations we belong to here are having Halloween parties this week. We will be going to one of them on Sunday. I am throwing together a 'costume' for W which basically involves her wearing a tutu she already owns to make her into a fairy/princess type character. I might buy some wings if I see any. I on the other hand already have my costume. I wear it everyday. I will be going as 'happy mum'.

The party we are going to is run by the group W attends a drop off playgroup for 2.5 hours twice a week, we only joined this group 1 month before Cordelia was born. I don't know anyone at this organisation really because it is just a drop off play group. Only the ladies who run it know what happened because W didn't attend for about 2 months, we kept her close to us after Cordelia died plus they shut up shop for summer. They were so kind and kept her spot open indefinitely and refunded our money for the time she wasn't there. I am sure some of the mothers noticed I was pregnant and then noticed I wasn't but no one has said anything to me and honestly I am OK with that. I feel somewhat safe there because of this, as a result I have volunteered to help to them set up for their annual Halloween party. Anyone who knows me knows that this is me in my element, well the old me, I think the new me will still enjoy this type of thing but for now it is baby steps. Therefore, I will go in and do what I am asked to do-no creative input on my side- just do. Mr M will bring W when the party starts, we will have fun and then leave.

Anonymously.

I hope.

Update: The kids party was OK, I felt a little anxious through most of it but we stayed. W was having a great time. After the party I was exhausted, we came home and I slept-hard, so did W! I just felt drained after being around so many people, putting on a happy face is tiring. On actual Halloween night we met up with some new friends in my neighbourhood and trick or treated at the few houses that were handing out sweeties. It was nice. We ended up going back to their house and had a few glasses of wine. The first time we have done anything like it. It was fun-yes you read right. Fun. I am glad it was spur of the moment. I had no time to obsess over whether I should go or not, if I would feel uncomfortable or not. We just went in and had a nice time, the kids all played well together. A nice moment for us. A glimmer of the future.

Friendships and loneliness

I feel lonely. I feel sad. I feel angry. I feel bitter. I feel low. Today I am especially lonely. We have moved a lot over the years. In the last 12 years I have lived in 11 houses/flats in 3 different countries. I have moved across the Atlantic 4 times. My roots are weak. I make friends easily thankfully but many friendships do not stand the test of distance, it is hard when you only see friends every few years. My dearest friends, the ones who I grew up with and know me better than anyone are scattered all over the place, most I have not seen in years. We talk on the phone but it is not the same as meeting for a cuppa and having a giggle together. We love each other but time plays tricks on friendships, I knew these girls best when they were girls, not the professionals or mothers they are now-now I just know the highlights of their lives-the cliff notes.

The friends I have here have been the best that they can be. We have only been friends for 1-2 years and we met through our kids, we do play dates. We have been out together once without the kids-my hen do  summer 2011. I like my friends here but we are missing each others history. I don't feel I can be totally open with them and put my grief on full display. Instead I play the strong, holding it together for W card when inside I am dying and want to fall apart. I want to cry and talk about Cordelia, how unfair this all is, how I want my baby back, how I held her while she took her last breaths, how beautiful she was. Why can't I let myself do that? Why do I have to pretend I am so bloody strong? 6 months have passed now and people probably think that I am over the worst of it but that is far from true. I feel like I have come a long way when I look back at myself in the first few weeks but in reality I have only made tiny baby steps forward. I still feel terrible, I still feel sad, I still feel guilty. So why am I hiding my grief from the world? Why do I cry on the tram alone instead of my friends arms?What is wrong with me? Why am I doing this to myself ? I want to take this mask off.

Partly I feel let down. I wish people had come. Hardly any one came. No casseroles, no shoulders to cry on. Most people stayed away, a few came once or twice never to return. When I do see my friends we always have our kids with us-a play date for W, this makes it hard to talk. I try to not cry too much in front of W. I am her mummy, I should be her super hero, not the sad, crazy always crying mother that will send her running to therapy when she is an adult. Some people have even down right offended me and I am at a crossroads as to what will happen with our friendship-can I forgive? I will never forget so how can I forgive. I am a bit of a chicken when it comes to confrontation so I know I will not be able to tell them straight what they have done to hurt me. God, I am useless. There are a couple of friends I see who I have been more open with than others, I just don't see them enough. They have kids, jobs and one just had her baby last week. That will be a post all unto itself.

I am partly to blame for this loneliness, I could have reached out more. Instead I retreated into a bubble and hid from the world. Didn't answer the phone, emails or texts. Isn't that normal though? my baby died!! People just took that as I didn't want to be disturbed but that wasn't always the case. I wish they had kept calling. I would have picked up eventually. When I was ready.

I am ready now.

But it is too late-life has moved on for everyone else, spring ended, summer disappeared in a haze and fall is here, soon turning to winter. I don't know what to do. How to fix this mess I feel I am in. I am not in the best frame of mind right now hence a very doom and gloom post. There are rays of light in terms of friendships though. I have made a few new ones recently. One is a baby loss mother and one is not. I think these ladies are going to help me get through this.

The dreaded question

'How many children do you have?

So I have pretty much been living in fear of being asked this question for 6 months now. I have spent a lot of time thinking about how I would answer it and I never really came up with something that worked. Such an innocent question really, of course you want to gush about your other kids if they are not there with you when the question is asked but what if they are not there with you because they died (i hate that word) not just that they are in school at that particular moment or at home napping with daddy.

Well it happened today, I was asked the question and I was totally unprepared for it; I hated my answer and now I am so wracked with guilt and sadness I am here letting it out, I feel like I am going to explode with emotion, like a caged animal pacing in its too small enclosure. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I don't know what to do with myself. So here I am.

I met a woman on the tram today who is from the same town as me in Canada. We got talking on the tram because her little girl is about the same age as W and they were speaking English, her and her family moved in to my development 2 weeks ago it turns out, coincidentally into the house that a very good friend of mine sadly vacated in July to move to the US. One of the first questions she asked after we had talked about Canada was 'Is she your only one?' pointing to W. Oh god no. I was totally caught off guard partly because we were on the tram-the tram is not such a great place to answer what is now a very personal and difficult question for me to answer.

My reply: 'yes'.

I hate myself. I know that no matter what way I answer that question I will hate myself. I hate that I denied Cordelia existed. I froze. There is no right way for me to answer this question, only wrong. It is a lose/lose situation with myself. I either deny Cordelia existed or I talk about her and potentially make someone feel awkward and want to run for the first exit. I know I should be strong, if they can't handle the shitty truth too bad, but why do I still feel too guilty to put someone in that situation that I compromise myself and leave me in a mess instead of them? I know my response would be so unexpected, the question has no malice behind it but it is an attacking question for baby loss mothers. I think I just don't like making other people feel, sad, guilty or awkard-I like to save that stuff for me it seems.

I have talked to other baby loss mummas about this question. Everyone dreads it. Some only mention their loss if they feel strong enough at that moment, some say it depends on how well they know the other person. Some said they HAVE to mention their loss no matter what as they feel guilty not acknowledging them. I know now that I fall into that category. I think it took me being asked that question today to realise that. I am trying to turn this into a positive lesson here because I feel so awful and I can't stop beating myself up right now for how I answered. I am so sorry Cordelia. I am trying to tell myself it's OK. Now I know how my heart wants me to answer this question -another crappy life lesson in being a baby loss mumma has been learnt. I hate these lessons. I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself but it is hard not to be, being a baby loss mumma is so complicated. I feel like going to that woman's house right now and asking her to ask me that question again so that I can give her the true answer, to be brave and tell her, no actually I do have another daughter who passed away 6 months ago, but I won't because that would be a bit weird. When the time feels right I will tell her about Cordelia and how beautiful she was.

Even though this question has been asked now and I know how I want to reply it does not mean that I live in any less fear of it being asked again but now perhaps I am a little more prepared. I will take my time before I answer, take a big deep breath and speak the truth. I have 2 beautiful daughters to be proud of.

Positives in a negative place

I have mixed feelings about the hospital Cordelia was born and died in.

This is normal I think-something really awful happened to my family there but also much of my healing is happening there now too. When I first started going back to the hospital for therapy it was extremely unpleasant to go there. Anxiety, sweating, nausea and sadness would all arise on my journey there, but I would always go in because I knew I was getting the support I so desperately needed. As the days started turning into weeks and now months these feelings are decreasing each time I go there. I still feel them-just not as strongly. In a way I am glad now that I have faced this challenge of going back there. I know it would be harder to go back there if I hadn't been visiting on a weekly and sometime twice weekly basis. I feel stronger for doing this-facing your fears is such a difficult and painful thing to do. This is the best hospital around here and I feel if I ever end up back in there for future care that I don't want to only have bad memories, I know this will be very hard in reality, bad memories are so much more vivid than good ones sometimes, especially these ones. When I go to the hospital it is always the same few rooms and that is OK for me, I am comfortable in them but the thought of going 2 floors up terrifies me. That is the floor where Cordelia came into this world and left it too soon, the floor where all of our nightmares came true. I hate that floor, that floor can go screw its self. We had some positive times on this floor too though, for a few days we thought Cordelia was going to be OK, we had precious but-never-long-enough kangaroo time with her-she was unbelievably soft. I would do anything for another 5 minutes of that special time together with her. Also, the care that I received and especially the neo natal team caring for Cordelia were super stars, I have so much respect and admiration for the nurses who put so much love and care into looking after Cordie for us, I know they were very saddened by her passing too.

Each week I walk past the ultrasound rooms where it seemed we kept getting surprised with bad news during the pregnancy, past the emergency room where I went when I first had bleeding, past the green chairs on the left by the lift-always filled with pregnant ladies with anxious faces, I have sat in those green chairs, it's usually because your are having some problems, I wish those chairs weren't there, I always feel for the ladies sat in them, I know what is going on behind their anxious faces:fear.

Despite all this, I still keep coming back for every appointment I have there, in fact those appointments have often been my lifeline, especially during the darkest early days, counting down the days until I could go back and pour my heart out to one and now 2 wonderful women who have heard my story like no one else and I am so thankful to them for helping me to lighten my load and taking some of this pain on. I still feel so many emotions going there each week, part of me hates the place, rightly so, how could I not. My baby who I should have brought home with me died there-just saying that makes me soo angry. For a while I really blamed the doctors who sent me home now I only occasionally do but that is another whole post another day. So I keep going back, even though it causes me sadness to be there and it can be a confusing place to be but it also gives me hope and right now I don't have much more than that to get through this and to come out the other side.

someone is missing

Cordelia. That is who is missing. I feel that empty hole everyday of where she should be, there is a Cordelia shaped hole in my heart that will never go away, I carry her there instead of in my arms, which feel so empty now. It has been almost 6 months since Cordelia passed away-how that much time has elapsed is beyond me. I didn't think I would live another day when we knew she was going to die but here we are, 6 whole long months down this long, dark confusing road of grief. I think of her all day everyday still, hardly a minute goes by where I am not trying to figure some thing out in my head relating to her and her short little life. I miss her. When we play games with W and say things like look 'we are all in the house' or 'look everyone is on the couch cuddling-including the cat' a little piece of me winces,because it is not true, we are not all here-Cordelia is missing. It breaks my heart to say these words of we are all here because it makes me feel guilty and sad, like we are having fun without her or moving on or forgetting her. She should be here squeezed into one of W's 'houses', laughing with her big sister or cuddling on the couch with us but she is not and there is nothing I can do about that-no matter how hard I try. Cordelia will always be missing from our lives. I guess this is where the whole 'time' thing comes in, we will get used to this feeling and it will become our new normal. Well, I have to say this new normal sucks, can I have the old normal back please?

My first ever blog entry

I never really saw myself as a blogger-I love blogs, in fact I am little obsessed with all kinds of blogs but I never felt I had anything to say or offer to people, until now and even now I am still not sure that I do. I just know that I need to write some stuff down and thought a blog might be a good choice. I am usually a fairly private person, definitely not one to share private matters on the blogespheres so at this point I am still undecided if I am going to share this with anyone or if this is just a place for me to come and put some thoughts or ideas down.

While my grief defines me right now, I am also other things too. I am a wife, sister, friend, cousin, auntie as well as a mumma to a very busy toddler. I love to cook, read books, craft, bake yummy treats, swim, travel, shop, drink wine, teach my daughter new things. These sides to me may also appear in this blog, I am a grieving mother but I am all these things too, I am trying to figure out where all these elements fit in my new life so bear with me. I am on a very strange and sad journey.

The main reason I stared this blog is that I found a wonderful website/blog called carlymarieprojectheal. Carly is also a bereaved mother and is doing wonderful things in and for this community. She has created an event called Capture your grief. The idea is that you take a picture everyday in the month of October to capture your personal story. I am no photographer but I though this was such a great way to capture the little (and big) things in my journey so far. I am already a few days behind so I have some catching up to do.