Bump Camoflage

Spring has finally sprung, there are little flowers popping up in the garden, and the past two days have been warm. Too warm to hide away in my big maternity coat and woolly scarf.
Today I felt positively light headed on my way home from school,but I'm not ready to give up my safety blanket of coat and scarf either, so I've just ordered myself a lovely new coat from Boden.



I'll need a nice light scarf to wear with it I think, so might go fabric hunting in my stash later....Oh the Anna Maria Voiles would make a lovely scarf.....

An Accidental Make

An accidental make, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

I've been working on something else this week, drafting and re drafting a pattern for a baby/toddler dress for a secret project. I got to a point where I needed some haberdashery supplies, and being the great big wuss I am I decided I'd rather start on something else than actually get in my car and (eeek!) drive to the store to buy supplies.

So I started work on this little newborn baby smock, but clearly my brain was still in dress mode, because I completely forgot to put in the sleeves on the smock! Still, it's quite cute anyway, and I am expecting a summer baby...plus, I have enough fabric left to make one with sleeves.

The voile sews up lovely too, I used french seams, and pondered a rolled hem, which although would work well on this fabric I decided against, because I prefer a proper hem.

Oh yes, and it fastens on the shoulders with little buttons.

And a Little Knotty Hat

And a little knotty hat, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Now There are Two

A pair, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Made using this pattern, and leftover Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino.

Oh yes, and check out Anna Maria's blog for the full low down on her voiles. I so so want more of these.

More Treats

More treats, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

These gorgeous fabrics arrived yesterday, and I'm in love. These are the Voiles from Anna Maria Horner, and nothing I had read about how lovely they are had prepared me for their gorgeousness. They are so soft, light and tactile. I wish I'd ordered more, and even prefer them to my usual summer faves, Liberty Tana Lawn.
The blue dobby is destined to be newborn trousers, and the print a little smock style top.
They should go perfectly with the cardigan I finished the other day and these bootees...well when I've knitted the matching one.



Hopefully, a coming home outfit for baby.
( This is where I want to add in all the doom and gloom stuff that spins round in my head, but I wont, I'll be a good girl ..)

Treated Myself

Blankets?, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

After a huge de clutter of my fabric supplies the other week, I decided to treat myself to just a few yards of some fabrics I'd had my eye on for some time.
This is one of them. Three yards of Anna Maria Horners Folksy Flannel, Forest Hills in Moonlight. I love these colours, and look how well they go with the blanket I've been working on for baby.
This fabric will be a receiving blanket, and possibly more,I haven't decided yet.
I'm not finding it easy to balance my need to prepare for this baby, with my fears for this baby.
Part of me so wants to let go of the pain, and fear and enjoy the process of sewing and knitting sweet baby things, while another part of me is paralysed with fear.
I know doing these things can't kill my baby, but I also know I have a cupboard downstairs stuffed full of all the baby things I prepared for Florence.
So, I tell myself, this baby deserves things made just for him (or her!), and even if I'm just being practical, this baby will need at least one outfit and one blanket...
I wish it wasn't so hard.

First Cardigan

First Cardigan, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Hmmm, this feels weird. I didn't expect to finish this quite so quickly. I've wrapped it and hidden it away for now.

Louise Cardigan from Vintage Baby Knits by Kristen Rengren. I used Debbie Bliss Cashmerino DK.

Blankets

Blankets, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

It's been a while since I've made any blankets for my local hospital bereavement suite. these are double sided minkee/flannel or minkee/knit.I'm trying to get a package together for next time I visit the hospital. Next on my list are burial pouches for the really tiny ones.
Tiny hats too, they knit up in no time.

Hope

DSC_0002, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

In every stitch.....

Never Enough

Florence, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

When Florence was born Woody grabbed the camera from the shelf and hastily took a few shots of her . Four in all, grainy hastily taken photos in poor light. The only four photos of her alive.
Later in hospital, the midwives suggested they take some more of the three of us. We were not sure at the time, after all we had four precious shots at home of her alive. The midwives took five more photos, you can clearly see the tears in our eyes on those photos.
When we took the children into the hospital to see Florence that evening,I grabbed my camera as we headed out. I took as many shots as I could of the children with their baby sister. I didn't really consider lighting or composition, and I was worrying over Florence's delicate body. Her lungs were at that point saturated with blood, and the slightest movement would cause her to bleed out through her nose.

So we have perhaps twenty photos of her, some no one outside of us have ever seen, though to us she's beautiful on every one.We know to others she may not be.

Twenty or so photos is just not enough, a thousand photos would never be enough,but I wish we'd taken more.

After seeing Sally's beautiful necklace in a recent post by her, I showed it to Woody, and he has ordered a similar one for me for Mothers Day (14th March here in the UK). I had to choose two photos for it and I wished I had more to choose from. I could never tire of looking at her, not ever.

Bounty, and I should know better.

Here in the UK, pregnant and new Mums are given Bounty Packs at various stages during pregnancy and after birth. They are really a marketing excercise, lots of big companies pay to have their products in each pack, and hopefully the new Mum will be hooked for life, but for lots of Mums it's quite exciting to get your big bag or box of freebies.
I quite enjoyed claiming my packs when India was small,but never bothered after that because I knew most of the products included were things I wouldn't use anyway.
Fast forward to now, and my curiosity got the better of me, so I filled in the form (Oh dear cue junk mail for the rest of my life!), and sent Woody off to Boots to claim my "Mum To Be Essentials" pack. I thought maybe there might be some sample sized bits and pieces useful for my hospital bag, maybe a breast pad or two, or some antibacterial gel.
I ripped open the bag, and found a bib, a spoon, some perfumed washing powder.....and a guide on caring for your baby now she's six months old!
The lady in the shop had given Woody the 6+ months bag, not the Mum To Be bag. So I have the bag I should be getting right about now for Florence...sheeesh, I should've known better!

This looks like a much better bet.

Kitchen Table @ Glow

Glow In The Woods is an amazing support website for bereaved parents, today I'm taking part in their kitchen table discussion.


1 | How would you describe your presence on the Internet? Does your online voice differ from your real life voice? If so, how? And why?

I had my blog before Florence was born,I wrote about sewing, and knitting, home decor, all pretty light and fluffy, just pretty pictures really with a few words. I had a small following, mostly other crafty Mummies and customers from my little business .
Then Florence was born, and she died, and news was leaking out via Facebook, rumours were started and Woody and I thought the best thing to do was add our news here on my blog.
We had no idea at the time what an impact that would make, and I had no idea how that decision would change my blog forever.
I think my online voice is my real life voice. I'm as honest as I can be about most things, and my lack of writing skill means I can't really hide terribly well behind a more crafted voice. So yeah, I think this is me.

2 | Why did you begin blogging, or reading blogs? Was this before or after your experience of babyloss?

I was blogging already when Florence was born, and decided to keep my thoughts and feelings about her here in this space primarily because I didn't want to hide her away somewhere else. I had shared so many of the preparations for her arrival here, it just seemed too sad to move her.
This means that now my blog is a rather peculiar mix of grief and sewing, but that kinda reflects my life.
I worry sometimes that my sewing/crafty readers don't want to hear about the grief, and my babylost readers don't want to read about the sewing. I'm certain my initial dreams of a beautiful craft blog are totally scuppered now, and maybe the presence of my crafty readers stops me spewing my grief so violently, I just don't know.

3 | Do you write anonymously? Does anonymity - or would anonymity - change your expression of grief?

Nope, I am who I say I am. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be anonymous, but I know in reality I just couldn't keep it up.

4 | Do you have a responsibility in how you express yourself on the Internet? To whom, and why?

Yes, I think I do. My first responsibility is to my family. I will not write about Woody's grief, and I'm careful what I write about my living children, they deserve their privacy. I also do not write about extended family or friends likely to read and be upset.
Sometimes this is hard, and I've deleted many a post having a good old whinge about someone,but it's not worth it to hit publish. Usually just writing it down is enough to get it out of my system.


5 | Do authenticity and honesty matter to you, both as a reader and a writer? Or does unconditional support matter more? How do you think readers perceive your truth?

Authenticity and honour do matter to me greatly as both a writer and a reader. I hope readers perceive my truth for what it is. I'm a normal Mummy, missing her little girl.

6 | Have you ever been in the crosshairs of a troll? How did you deal with it, and what did you learn from it?

No, and I hope I never am.

7 | How do you feel before going online - either to write on your own blog, or to absorb the writing of others? How do you feel when you shut down the computer and walk away?

Hmmm, this is a tough question. I think how I feel changes so often. To read, I like some quiet time, I like to absorb what has been written by women (and men) who I have come to care about so very much over the past few months.

To write, well I guess I usually have something niggling away at me, and need to get it out. Once I have I generally feel better for a while, then I panic I've exposed myself too much, or I'm that boring woman droning on again about her dead baby, or that I've inadvertently upset someone.....I'm a worrier!

8 | Do family/friends know you write/commune online? If so, have they told you how they feel about it? How do you respond to their opinions?

Some do, some don't. I don't make a point of telling people. I'm usually pretty surprised when someone tells me they read.
My sil Julie reads and comments (Hi Julie), and I don't want to put words in her mouth, but I think she does that because she lives in the US with her husband (Woody's brother) and children, and we don't get to see them very often.I think in some small way my blog has brought us a little closer, and I'm glad of that.
I know some of my real life friends read, they tell me, actually when I think about it, there are quite a few real lifers who read, the lollipop lady (Hi Wendy) stops me sometimes to talk about something I've said on here.


9 | Have you ever met any other loss bloggers in real-life? How did it feel to share food and air and space, and how did it make you feel about your own storytelling and healing? If you haven't experienced this, would you want to, or not? Why?

No I haven't, but I'd like to. I feel very sad sometimes that many of the women I care so much about I will never meet.

10 | How did you/will you know it's time to read fewer grief blogs, and write less of grief? How did you/will you redirect your energy, creativity, and persona online -- did you/will you go offline? Disappear and start again? Or transition in your current space, hoping to find a new voice? If you've done this, how did it feel?

I really don't know, I'll probably just have more sewing here and less grief as time goes on.

Happy When It Rains

It's raining today. I like the rain, I can pull up my scarf over my nose, and tilt my umbrella to hide my eyes. I don't have to talk to anyone, and everyone is rushing by, so they don't expect me to stop and talk anyway.

Something is bothering me, something someone said.She didn't mean it to bother me, she has issues of her own and I think was merely protecting herself. A harmless comment really, people make those to pregnant women all of the time, but this pregnant woman is fragile, more fragile than she wants to admit, and the comment hurt.

I guess I'm gonna get a lot more of those too

Too Much TV

After dinner last night Woody came upstairs to find me watching Saving Babies , he just kinda winced at me, slightly rolled his eyes and settled down at his pc.
I've been watching a lot of "baby tv" recently. I kinda have this compulsion to watch, even shows like Saving Babies, which is about desperately sick babies.I watch, and I wince, and I cry and I wonder if they'll pull through (they always do...that can't be right can it? I mean do they film the ones that die then not show them?)
What I simply can't fathom about this particular show though is that these babies are so so poorly with often severe physical defects, unyet they are healthier than Florence was.
Florence couldn't even be stabilised enough to move her to a ventilator (she was ventilated by hand for five hours). The children's hospital though initially on alert to transfer her in, cancelled her transfer and advised withdrawal of treatment.
She had a perfect heart, a perfect brain, everything was perfect, she was beautiful and she was too sick to even get as far as those babies on tv.
Maybe I should just stop watching.

I Didn't Cry

Thursday morning I had an appointment to see my midwife.I had been offered the option of having all my ante natal appointments at home,but I declined. My midwife works in the community out of several doctor's surgeries, and I know I rarely visit my doctor, but I can't put off going to the surgery forever can I?

The waiting room is tiny. I walked in, and there was a face I recognised from school. Someone I've often exchanged "hellos" with, though not since Florence was born.
She immediately spotted the green maternity notes in my hand, or maybe she spotted my bump. She grinned so hard at me. I smiled, but I was terrified (and a little ashamed.)
I told the receptionist I was there to see the midwife...there is no privacy in that room.
The nice lady from school asked me when I was due, and told me she was due soon after.
I sat down, tried to ignore the radio which was playing some stupid love song, bit my lip hard and tried not to cry.

Finally in the safety of the exam room with my midwife, I started to relax. We chatted about the inquest, and she immediately put me at ease.

Then it was time to listen in to baby. I climbed on the couch, and after a few moments, there it was, a little heartbeat. M, my midwife smiled. I think I said, "so I have been feeling something then?"

BUT...I didn't feel relief, or excitement or anything much. I didn't cry.

I left the surgery and called Woody on my mobile. I chatted about the waiting room, about how M had agreed with me on a certain subject to do with the inquest, and finally he interrupted and said "did you hear a heartbeat?"...."yes"
I told him to put the kettle on, I'd be home in a moment.

Inquest

I dreamed about Florence last night. She was dressed in a pretty pastel sleepsuit, and looked so beautiful. I was holding her, I could feel her weight in my arms, but she was sleeping deeply, and was so quiet, she didn't want to feed. Suddenly she was gone, and I was looking for her in a cupboard full of pastel coloured boxes, but all I could find in there were dolls, and doll parts. I couldn't find her, but was frantic because she hadn't had a feed.


It's been a tough week. Wednesday was the inquest. The flashbacks had become more frequent in the run up, and I was feeling pretty low last week, but I also just wanted the inquest over with.

We were not quite sure where we were going. Funny how you can live somewhere for so long and not realise a building you've walked past hundreds of times is a building you might one day visit.

When we arrived, we were met in the waiting room by my lovely midwife, and the paediatrician that treated Florence and has been such a support over the past few months. There was also the pathologist, and another midwife who had come to support my midwife. Friendly faces.

The usher went through his list of attendees. I told him I was Florence's mother. The words caught in my throat and the sobs took over. I hate crying like that, but was soon ok.

We were taken upstairs to the court room. A large Victorian room, with huge windows through which the sound of the very busy road outside could be heard. I couldn't help noticing how the ugly modern office furniture sat so awkwardly in such a large an imposing room.

Woody and I held hands as we listened to the statements from everyone involved. Re living Florence's birth and death over and over from different perspectives. That was hard. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes.

Nothing new was discovered, as expected. We did find out that the staff at our local hospital were advised by the large children's hospital to withdraw treatment at 10.30, but the doctors continued for eight more minutes.

I was also relieved to hear from two statements how Florence was still alive when she was placed in my arms.
She was so very still, I'd never been sure if she'd already gone,but two paediatricians stated that Florence died in my arms. She was safe.

She stayed in mine or Woody's arms all that day.

The final cause of death is recorded as Massive Pulmonary Heamorrhage due to Natural Causes.

We'll ever know what those natural causes were.

Worry

I'm trying, I promise I'm trying. I really want to be optimistic, but I find myself browsing websites for doppler hire and private scans, wondering if I should spend the money we don't have for reassurance...of a kind, and for how long?
I do battle with the old me, the natural home birthing Mama that believes in her body and it's ability to grow and birth a living healthy baby.
I'm just not her anymore, though remnants remain and taunt me.

I look at my shelf of pregnancy books, not daring to open them. I know what they say, I've read them all a hundred times before.I did everything right. Florence's birth was perfect, no drugs, at home, upright, no tearing, no problems and then she died.

This baby will be born in hospital*, I'm not sure how yet. I'm not sure I care. I just want a living one this time please.

A Reminder to Myself

Starting to knit a baby blanket can't kill my baby.

Buying a book of vintage baby knitting patterns similarly can't kill my baby.

Repeat, until you believe it.

Demons and Denial

It's a funny old business this pregnancy after loss thing. Some days my head is spinning with thoughts, and my emotions are in such turmoil, I just don't know if I'm coming or going. I'm starting to think I may have multiple personality issues.

Yesterday was our "dating scan". I've always hated scans, and generally had as few as possible, I had no scans at all with Eden, though I guess that was mostly down to my wonderful Dutch midwives and the Dutch maternity services of the time. (we lived in Holland briefly in 1998).

The only way I can get through certain appointments is to kinda disconnect my emotions from my surroundings and be an observer. That's what I did yesterday. Even the junkie pregnant Mama in the waiting room was just someone to observe, and not even feel anything for, not disgust, or pity, or anything.

We were called into the examination room, the sonographer was kind, gentle and motherly, just what I'd hoped for. There is nothing obvious on my notes identifying me as a dead baby mama, but I think there must be something on my computerised records because something about this lady made me think she knew.

The machine was switched on, and Woody and I both looked for that heartbeat. It was there. Baby was chilled, and grown, and my heart was beating out of my chest.

The dating scan is quick. We were back in the waiting room in no time. We bought one picture.The sonographer gave me a squeeze with her eyes.Then we went to do some grocery shopping.

Later that evening I went to a pregnancy yoga class. A happy place, filled with happy smiley pregnant women, all glowing and bountiful, brim full of hope and joy. I found myself smiling too, even laughing...all the while quieting the demons in my head telling me;

"stop smiling, you are not one of them"

"You are a failure and a fraud"

I partnered a lovely young woman for one excercise, and we chatted. She asked me about my children, and I answered slowly, carefully trying to find the right words, trying not to scare her. I told her I would have a six month old, but she died, and bless her, without skipping a beat she said she was sorry and carried on her bubbly chatter. Maybe I did scare her, I hope not. Just her little sorry meant so much to me.She didn't recoil in horror, she didn't demand I leave the room for fear of contaminating everyone with my dead baby germs. She just chatted to me, and was lovely.

That was the second time this week I've had to tell someone my baby died, it's never easy, and I always feel I've been clumsy and it's come out all wrong. I don't know how to get the words out right,but I can't just gloss over Florence, maybe sometimes I should,but she's my forever baby, she lived, she was real, and I can't ever deny her.

Five Years Ago

Five years ago today Woody and I got married. We've been together for 18 years now,but only decided to get married five years ago. I was 17 weeks pregnant with Sid, our only guests were my best friend, Heather and her now hubby,Gary. We got married in the Town Hall, then went to a local pub for cheese pie and chips. Just perfect for us.
Today Woody and I celebrated by having lunch in a lovely little pub near to the cemetery. We popped in to see Florence first and lit her candle.
After lunch we shopped for a little gift for Florence's newest cousin, Alex James who was born healthy yesterday.
Quite a nice day really, I'm now sat here drinking some lovely herbal tea my friend bought for me, and I might even have a nap before dinner.
The sun was even shining today, and the sky was beautiful.
A good day.

Looking Outwards

New skirt2, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Cybele commented on my last post that I seemed to be "looking outwards" more lately. I think she may be right.
Maybe it's time, maybe it's being pregnant again, but I do feel like I'm starting to look outwards and possibly even looking forwards.
It's not easy, not easy at all. I think there is a big part of me that's still very afraid of looking forwards, and sometimes even ashamed of looking forwards. I hold myself back with fear and shame.
I've had weeks now of horrible nausea, debilitating tiredness and mixed in with grief it's like struggling everyday through treacle.
This morning after another restless night I was sat on my bed feeling just miserable, wondering how to get through another day, when I just thought "enough".
This little baby growing inside me deserves to be enjoyed. I can carry on this pregnancy terrified and thinking the worst, planning outfits for a burial and names that will look nice on a gravestone, and in the process making myself even more miserable or I can pick up on the hope I must've had to even consider getting pregnant again and enjoy, as far as is possible the life that is growing inside me.
OK, that all sounds simple enough, of course it isn't as many of my readers know only too well, but I'm going to try, and that's what's important isn't it?
I'm off to a good start, I've been busy today, cleaning, reorganising, and sewing! I fixed a pair of maternity jeans, trimmed a plain tunic with some pretty ribbon and made two maternity skirts.
It's a start.

(the instructions for the maternity skirts are available as a PDF over there on the left of the screen.)

Numbers

, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Today Florence would have been six months old, half a year. She'd probably be sitting up, maybe even sharing my lunch. We might even have braved the rain to go on the swings at the park.
Six months ago, I didn't think I could make it through the next six minutes, nevermind the next six months. Yet, here I am.

Today is also the day I am twelve weeks pregnant. The "safe" time every pregnant woman aims for...well except maybe those of us who sadly know better.

I have so much to miss and so much to hope for, and thank you to two special people a house full of flowers.

Thank you Julie, the rainbow roses arrived this morning, and the tulips are still hanging on in that beautiful tulip way.



Oriana, the bulbs are all lovely, I can't wait to take some to Florence, they are going to look so pretty.

All Very Strange

Yesterday I had my booking in appointment with one of the lovely midwives I know. All was well, and the masses of form filling wasn't too upsetting, even when there wasn't a tick box for Florence's cause of death so we had to tick Sudden Unexplained Infant Death
I hadn't been worried about the appointment, I know my midwives well, and trust them.
I obviously underestimated my feelings though, because on my way home from school with the littlies, I suddenly started to feel a little dizzy, confused and well kinda panicky. I made it home, sat down and phoned Woody who headed home straight away.
India made me some toast, said she'd watch the little ones and I went to lie down, but was very confused and befuddled and crying.
Somewhere in all that confusion though I realised all I'd had to drink all day was a couple of sips of black weak tea at my friends house in the morning. I was clearly dehydrated and suffering for it.
I still feel a little weird today,but I'm trying hard to drink more, which for some reason, with this nausea is harder than eating.
You know, just when I think I might be coping ok, I realise I'm not...except I am.

Oh, and can you believe that the reason my midwife has me down for "shared care" is because this is my sixth baby and not because Florence died?

Fairy Tales

The little princess sleeps.
She is delicate, porcelain.
Rosy cheeks,
Icy fingers.

Tiny toes wrapped in cashmere.
Silver grey bonnet worn like a pixie.
The dove from her gown takes flight.

The king and queen stand by.
The candlelight flickers.
Hand in hand.
Despair.


***

Sometimes it seems Florence is a character in a fairy tale. The beautiful perfect little girl with the prettiest name. She belongs in a land of magic, of dragons, and goblins and fairies dancing in the flowers.A land with happy endings.

The truth is far more brutal, stark and terrifying.

Tough Week

I'm slowly slowly starting to see some light after a bloomin tough week.
Monday was back to routine, we hobbled along to school on the icy pavements, through the grey slush and the dog poop, with the biting cold wind on our faces.
No sooner had I got home than I was called out again to collect one very upset Eden. I brought her home, and we talked and we cried and we figured some stuff out. I think she's ok now...well y'know, she's grieving,but she's ok.
India has been spoiling for a fight since she learned of the rainbow baby. This is her way, it's hard. She's trying to process everything, but she's almost 14 and just being almost 14 is hard enough.
I did wonder the other evening if I could really do this? I'm trying to be a good mother to my living children, my dead child and my growing bean. How do I do all of that when I'm still dealing with flashbacks, nightmares, insomnia, and oh yes not to forget the morning sickness?
And how do I be a good wife? I don't talk about Woody's grief here, that's his to talk about or not, as he chooses. Like me, he's doing ok, that doesn't mean he is ok.
Like I said, it's been a tough week.

The Same but Different

This pregnancy is running two weeks behind Florence's, so I often find myself comparing the two. I guess I would've done that whenever we'd got pregnant again,but it seems more poignant at times.
Yesterday was Eden's birthday, and just like last year she asked to go to Pizza Express for her birthday dinner. Just like last year, we had the same table, I had nausea and ordered the most boring pizza I knew I could stomach.
Last year I sat there thinking that this year we'd have a baby at the table too. This year I sat and hoped we'd have a baby there next year.
Our waitress was blooming in pregnancy, and I envied her.

After confirming this pregnancy with a home test at 3am one Friday night eight or so weeks ago, I lay awake in bed making a mental list of everything I knew of that could go wrong in the next nine months, and believe me, when you read as many babyloss blogs as I do, that list is very very long.

I'm trying hard to take each day at a time. Florence's peadiatrician asked how many weeks I would be when the inquest date arrives, and I had no idea, I just hadn't considered that far ahead, and I still haven't.

Three Centimetres of Hope

Today I felt happiness, real proper happiness, it surprised me,I didn't know it was possible.
I've been grasping tightly to some news over the past few weeks, struggling with the chaos of emotions, the nightmares, the worry.
I've compossed this post a million times in my head, not knowing what the outcome would be, and not knowing how I would feel writing this down.
All those imagined compositions are gone, because all I can tell you today is that I felt joy, simple joy, I didn't know I could.
Now I'm holding tight to the joy, and hoping, hoping, hoping.

Limbo

More snow, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

I've lived in Manchester now for over twenty years, and I can only ever remember it snowing this much one year way back when I was a student, maybe 1989?
The children are all off school due to a combination of snow bound teachers and broken school boilers.
The snow might look pretty, but there is a thick layer of ice just under the surface and it's not safe to go out. I'm certainly not brave enough to drive in this, and anyway Woody has taken my car to work because it's warmer than his.
Florence's grave is covered in a thick layer of ice and snow, flowers are dying in less than a day, and really I was quite sad on Sunday to see her grave looking so grey and empty. Sid cried because the snow globe he chose for her had cracked in the frost.
All in all, this constant snow just adds to my feelings of limbo right now. I have a tiny shiny glimmer of hope trying to tickle it's way out,but the heavy cold limbo is forcing it back down.
Come on Spring! We need you!

Thank you

Florence's Year





When I was lying awake at 3am this morning, I tried to compose a post for this blog. I wanted to explain to my readers and commentors just how much you all mean to me...gosh that sounds so soppy and crap! I know some people just don't get the whole online support thing, and I know some people might consider my ramblings on here as "wallowing", and hey they are entitled to their opinions.
This blog hasn't turned out the way I planned, but then neither has life.
I just want to say thank you, to everyone who cares, I know you do, and I'm glad.
Keeping a blog that's read by friends and family is hard, I'm careful about what I say, I wouldn't ever want to hurt anyone, but if I ever have unintentionally, for that I'm truly sorry.

2010

, originally uploaded by indiaeden.

Yesterday was hard, last night was harder still. Honestly I'm struggling right now.



The decorations came down this morning, and I'm trying hard to look forward. It's difficult.