Sometimes, time is not enough.
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Three years is not a long time in the scheme of things. Especially not in the timeline of grief.
Blog
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Time passes and suddenly we are here again
I haven’t felt like writing the last few days, which is unusual for me.
Amy has been back at school after the holidays and Isaac has responded to the routine change by becoming increasingly rigid with his wants and needs, whining lots, screaming lots and being generally very high maintenance. Not to mention the middle of the night wakings, where he insists that it’s morning and he needs to watch cartoons on the couch.
Last night he was screaming at 3am because I wouldn’t do what he wanted. That was fun.
I’ve been faffing around on twitter, and throwing in a little bit of facebook here and there, but aside from having my ire raised by Mamamia, all I’ve felt like doing is curling up in bed with a book, or crappy TV.
A lingering virus I thought. Exhaustion maybe. Pregnancy, probably.
And then I realised that the last time I was this pregnant, my grandmother was dying. I was spending a lot of time in and out of hospital appointments with her, radiology and oncology and waiting rooms. Coffee and cake while we learned to read CT scan reports and afternoons spent at her house while we discussed the probability of her death.
On Sunday, she will have been dead for three years. I will be 30 weeks pregnant with a baby she will never meet. My daughter barely remembers her and my son does not remember her at all. I am left with my memories and the remembered feel of her very soft, very dead hands.
Parenthood and grief are remarkably similar when it comes to time passing. The days are long; the years are short and at this stage, I am left looking back over the last three years and wondering where the time went.
We lost the first year in a haze of shock and pain, grief and angry abusive family. We sold her house, portioned up her possessions and struggled through. Some bridges will never be mended, some words never forgotten. That is what I remember of the first year.
Where does the time go?
I thought I was doing okay, but apparently I am not and it’s okay to say that.
Grief is grief is grief and missing someone does not go away, which is both fortunate and unfortunate.
It’s hard to miss someone this much, Internet. So very hard.
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It’s at this point that I begin to go a little insane. 29 weeks
You should really pity Nathan, as I bounce between happy and angry, perfectly rational and a giant mess of sobbing and tears. The pregnancy hormones have gotten to me badly in the last fortnight and everyone is suffering.
Well, I’m suffering more than everyone else, but Nathan probably wouldn’t agree.
Let’s see, what is new this week. The baby flipped from being breech to turning head down (aside from a few forays into the land of “I’m going to lay sideways and make you wish that you could poke me back”) which was nice. I wasn’t a fan of breech – being kicked in the cervix isn’t my idea of fun. Luckily she hadn’t gotten terribly comfortable, having only been breech for a few days. It did however nearly kill me to lie upside down while I encouraged her to move.
Everything else is pretty much moving along as it should. I did the gestational diabetes test and didn’t throw up (I had taken anti-emetics before I went in however) which was great. Nausea continues to hang around, coming and going and impacting on my food choices. I’m still eating mostly fruit, yogurt and bread. And chocolate, of course.
I can no longer lie on my back, or sit up straight either, due to the amount of poky little joints that end up lodged into my lungs. I’m spending a lot of time trying to remind myself that yes, I can actually breathe, but no, I probably shouldn’t do anything strenuous unless I want to spend the rest of the day trying not to pass out.
No nesting yet (Nathan is waiting impatiently for the nesting – me, not so much) and I’m not feeling the overwhelming urge to Get Things Ready, unless I think too hard about what having a third child is actually going to mean. Then you can find me hyperventilating in the corners.
So really, all is well.
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ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS!!!
Forget Australia’s borders and the supposed problems with “Boat People” arriving, we’ve got a major security breach over here that needs addressing.
This photo was taken from the window near my computer, looking out into my small fenced yard. This yard is Out Of Bounds to ducks, due to the pooing nature of them. But apparently, they’ve chosen to ignore the warning signs, the guard dog, the small children gate keepers and the fence, in favour of eating the grass close to the house.
I am Not Impressed and harsh measures will be taken.
Anyone for duck confit? Roast duck?
I’m tough on border breaches here.
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They didn’t tell me it was going to be like this…
When you’re pregnant with your first child, you have no idea what to expect. I remember thinking about all the things I absolutely would and wouldn’t do to my child – completely forgetting that I was growing an entirely new human being here and human beings come equipped with personality, and opinions and desires of their own.
Of course, six years on, I am pregnant with our third baby and I’ve got a much better handle on reality. Pants are totally optional if we’re at home and as long as no one is bleeding or dying, then we’re doing okay.
It’s funny how your expectations change.
Of course, this has been helped along by having both children on the spectrum, Amy with auditory processing issues and Isaac with sensory issues, chewing issues, bowel issues, toilet training issues and a multitude of things I cannot control. I’m way less concerned about what the general public thinks and more concerned about being the best parent for my kids.
This is why when I was asked to contribute to the book “The Things They Didn’t Tell You About Parenting” I was very keen.
Along with another 31 of Australia’s best parenting bloggers, I have a piece in this book, which the quote above is drawn from. Profits go to benefit Foundation 18 and I encourage you to buy a copy, not just for my writing, but for the other pieces inside as well. You’ll laugh and nod along and it’s probably good preparatory reading if you’re pregnant with your first child.
You can buy a copy of the book here.