Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • Test.

    Test! EEEEK!

  • The Taste Of Bitterness

    I didn’t and probably never will, consider myself ‘an infertile’, simply because I feel like a bit of a fraud when I read blogs about infertility.

    We conceived Amy so fast, so easily, without even really trying, that it makes me feel out of place in the infertile community when I stand back and take stock of this current situation.

    We were meant to have another baby, if not born, at least on the way by now.

    We were meant to be prepping Amy for big sisterhood.

    We were meant to be washing itty bitty baby clothes.

    However life very rarely goes as it it meant to, so we find ourselves here, still trying 12 months on.

    It has been 12 months of actively trying. 12 months of counting days, observing mucus, building up hopes and coming back down to earth with a resounding thud at the end of the cycle.

    Before that 12 months, there were 4 months of ‘not really trying, but hey, wouldn’t it be nice to have them this close together? Maybe we should have sex again’.

    During the middle of each cycle, I forget how long we have been doing this, because every month is a chance at new hope. I have Amy to keep me busy and toddler hair to smell, a toddlers face to wash and not to mention feed. Honestly, how does she eat so much?!

    The end of the month though, tends to bring defeat, sadness and a little more bitterness. Every month, a little more bitterness.

    And honestly, how can I talk about bitterness without putting someone’s nose out of joint? To be honest, I don’t think my bitterness extends to the wonderful women I know and love in the interwebs. Somehow I manage to be happy for them, even if I am a little sad for me.

    And it SHOULDN’T extend to the wonderful women I know and love outside of the interwebs.

    No.

    It is more, the swell of a belly in a girl I went to school with. Her second.

    It is another girl, pregnant with her 3rd in less than 3 years.

    It is being completely fine with everything until a chance comment jumps up and kicks me in the face, causing me to write crap like this.

    Truly, I LIKE these women that are pregnant. I could (and have) sat and had coffee with them, laughed and talked. We have discussed our first children’s habits and laughed at toddlerisms.

    I still find it inordinately hard to see them pregnant.

    So I am confessing.

    I am bitter. Even though I thought I would be immune from it because of Amy.

    I am bitter that I can’t get a medical professional to take this seriously because ‘You conceived Amy naturally and carried her to term. You can do it again.‘ Apparently the fact that we CAN completely negates the fact that we still haven’t (and yes, I do know that THERE IS STILL TIME. I AM STILL VERY YOUNG).

    I am bitter that Secondary Infertility is overlooked because Hey! They did it once already! There can’t be anything actually wrong with them.

    I am bitter and it is a terrible thing to admit.

    So, a new cycle is starting and I am getting all of this out of my system. I am relaxing, I am going to enjoy the trying and I am going to be very zen until my next period is due.

    I hope.

    ———-

    PS. Please, no one take this as a personal dig at you, I promise, this isn’t about anyone except myself.

  • Needs Some Techie Help

    Honestly, a NEW version of WordPress? AGAIN?

    Seriously, what the fuck? I just updated the damn thing and now they are telling me to do it again? I wouldn’t have an issue with it if my Automatic WordPress Upgrade Plugin (gah, name is too long. Sapping brain cells) would just work for me! I have used it numerous times with no issues, but NO, apparently NOT today.

    It tells me that Database Backup cannot be completed, step 2 failed, YOUR HEAD WILL NOW EXPLODE.

    Heh.

    So my question is, WHY won’t the damn thing work? Has it got anything to do with my ISP? I haven’t changed what server I am using, and it doesn’t mention anything about server error, so I would assume that everything is good there, right? Right? Sigh.

    Any and all help gratefully accepted.

    *****

    Since my head had exploded (Nathan is stuck cleaning up the mess, and I am actually typing this from the other side) I can’t be bothered spending the next 2 hours resizing and uploading photos for my Weekly Winners.

    Lotus, you can smack me later, okay?

    This SHOULD be the last week I am stuck with dialup (can you hear the mad cackling? I can totally hear people cackling madly saying ‘YOU IDIOT! YOU WILL NEVER GET BROADBAND! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!’ What? You can’t hear that? Dammit) so hopefully maybe next weeks WW will not take me all evening. Heh.

    *****

    I got the small problem with my emails sorted out (can I get a WOOHOO over here please?), there was some issues with my ISP not letting me send emails from an unauthorised internet address (the somedaywewillsleep one).

    I think that is a little weird that they are able to tell me what email address I can and can’t use, but hey, I am living in the dark ages where internet companies left me to my own devices. Just sayin’.

    Now my emails appear to come from my somedaywewillsleep account, BUT NO! You would be wrong! They are really coming through my ISP email address, even though they show the domain email. Strange really.

    *****

    Yep, I think that is everything I needed to address today. I have a few posts and projects in the making so look for them this week.

    [Veronica gets dirty! Digging up the back yard.]

    [Our government ignores SAHParent’s. Veronica’s head explodes. For a second time.]

    [Fruit trees]

    [Our outside toilet and bets on how long it takes to a) freeze the water in the bowl or b) freeze me to the seat at 3am] Stay tuned….

  • A Winner! And Amy Blames The Cat

    We have a winner!

    Congratulations to Anne from Adventures in Beanland! She was lucky commenter #25 and I will be sending her $25 via paypal just as soon as she emails me back.

    Anne Says:

    I would travel a LOT more. Go back to Australia, see New Zealand, also all around Asia and South America. It’s $$$ to travel with kids, so it would be great not to worry about that part.

    Yay! Congrats Anne!

    *******

    Today, I was busy in the study and Nathan was outside. Amy was playing alone (because my house is childproof and safe).

    SOMEHOW Amy managed to snag the sugar bowl off the benchtop. There she sat, eating sugar with her hands until Nathan opened the door to come back inside (how do I know this? Nathan told me).

    As soon as she heard Daddy, she stood up and ran away as fast as she could to hide. One of the kittens had been sharing the sugar with her so the first thing Nathan did was scoot the kitten out of it, grumpily I might add.

    Once Amy realised that Daddy was growling at the cat and not her (yet) she emerged saying…

    ‘No no no! Is BAD cat! No!’

    … and wagging her finger.

    She looked at Nathan like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth and repeated her ‘Bad cat! No!’ mantra again, while pointing at the mess.

    Blaming the cat definitely starts young.

  • And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

    Today is ANZAC Day*. Better people that I have written about what exactly happened that fateful dawn at Gallipoli.

    Mistakes were made and our men were landed on the wrong beach, under heavy gun fire. By the end of the day, 2000 men lay dead.

    My Grandfather (with a few Great’s added to the beginning) was one of the men. He was 26, probably a good 10 years older that the average soldier there. Many men lied about their age in order to enlist. I still find it hard to fathom that boys, children; younger than I am now, were given guns and shipped away to fight a war on foreign soil.

    This morning we woke before dawn, to get ready and head down to the Community Club to attend the Dawn Service. It is not a religious service, just a community, turned out to honour those who left us behind.

    People spoke and we watched the sunrise as we listened to the Last Post. It was a very sobering moment as we reflected on the men who lived and died for us. The seriousness was broken by Amy, whispering, “I go down now please?” She was bored with the service and wanted to play on the play equipment! However, she was beautifully behaved, despite only having had 7 hours sleep.

    I would have embedded a video to play The Last Post, but I have no idea how to do it, or even if it would work with my internet. Instead, I give you the lyrics to a song that tells the story so well.

    And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda – Eric Bogle

    When I was a young man I carried a pack
    And lived the free life of the rover
    From the Murray’s green banks, to the dusty outback
    I waltzed my Matilda all over
    Then in 1915 my country said: Son,
    There’s no time for roving, there’s work to be done
    So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
    And they sent me away to the war

    And the band played Waltzing Matilda
    When the ship pulled away from the quay
    And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
    We sailed off for Gallipoli

    How well I remember that terrible day
    When our blood stained the sand and the water
    And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
    We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
    Johnny Turk, he was waiting, he primed himself well
    He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
    And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
    He nearly blew us back home to Australia

    And the band played Waltzing Matilda
    When we stopped to bury our slain
    Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
    Then it started all over again

    Oh those that were living just tried to survive
    In that mad world of blood, death and fire
    And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
    While around me the corpses piled higher
    Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
    And when I awoke in me hospital bed
    And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
    I never knew there was worse things than dying

    Oh no more I’ll go Waltzing Matilda
    All around the green bush far and near
    For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
    No more waltzing Matilda for me

    They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
    And they shipped us back home to Australia
    The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane
    Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
    And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay
    I looked at the place where me legs used to be
    And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me
    To grieve and to mourn and to pity

    And the Band played Waltzing Matilda
    When they carried us down the gangway
    And nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
    Then they turned all their faces away

    Now every April I sit on my porch
    And I watch the parade pass before me
    I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
    Renewing their dreams of past glories
    I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn
    Those weary old heroes of a forgotten war
    And the young people ask “What are they marching for?”
    And I ask myself the same question

    And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
    And the old men still answer the call
    But year after year, their numbers get fewer
    Someday, no one will march there at all

    Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
    Who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
    And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
    So who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

    *ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.