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.