Christmas:2014

Yes I'm posting this a bit late. I have reasons. Which will come in the next post. Also in this one. 

Christmas was an interesting combination of fun, relaxed, and heart-wrenchingly painful.

It was Simon's second Christmas and, at 19 months, he still doesn't GET it, but was old enough to actually enjoy opening gifts and playing with them. 

Reading Miki by Stephen Mackey

For 10 minutes. Then he discovered wrapping paper and boxes and the same stuff he takes out of the kitchen cupboards every day.

And while seeing him SUPER excited to open up his new cars and trucks was quite fun, when he put those off to the side because he opened up the books we'd gotten him while we were in Hobart, and sat on his daddy's lap for 15 minutes asking to be read to, my heart swelled with pride and melted a little bit. Because my child loves books! And I don't know that there is anything he can do at this age that would make me prouder.

It was so nice to have a quiet Christmas morning, just the three of us. To enjoy Simon's happiness and at the same time remember that we should have had little Ben with us, too, to share toys with, and kisses, and have pictures of his first Christmas. And we needed that quiet time together, the three of us, to remember, to cry, to laugh, and to prepare for the big family Christmas day with everyone from my husband's side of the family. 

HAM!
We love ham.

The night before I'd made a really nice Christmas Eve dinner of ham and veggies. And home-made cooked egg nog. Oh. My. YUM. We ate leftover cold ham for breakfast with, what is becoming kind of a tradition for us, fresh, flaky biscuits and eggs. We try to keep it small because Christmas lunch with my husband's family tends to be HUGE. And then they eat the leftovers cold for dinner. It's quite delicious.

No gingerbread house or TARDIS this year. Just plain cookies.

I tried adding to it, at least for immediate family members and some choice friends, anyway, by baking gifts this year. A combination of gingerbread, almond roca, and some chocolate chip cookie dough truffles (I can't choose a favorite. They were all fantastic to, um, taste-test...). I let Simon "help" me this year. Since gingerbread dough has no egg in it, I thought he could play with some of the dough while I made the cookies. Turns out, Simon LOVES gingerbread (he now ASKS for it yelling "Dindinbeh!") and immediately stuffed the bits of dough in his mouth and yelled for more. So, not wanting a toddler hyped up on sugar, I put a stop to his "helping" and gave him rice puffs instead. Later, he learned the art of stealing cookies while I am distracted frosting them. Was he helpful? No. Was it annoying? No. I decided when I started that I was going to enjoy the time with him no matter what. We spent time together doing things. Well worth loosing some gingerbread and time baking to make the memories I now have of him!

Bites of heaven.
I mean eggless chocolate chip cookie dough truffles.

This year was honestly probably the most relaxed and nice Christmas we've been to. 

Except that by the end, I had had more than enough socializing and pretending that I was ok. Because I wasn't. The one and only time I mentioned Ben's name and being in the hospital was during a legitimate story I was asked about (why Simon was running around singing, "Die Die Die!". It's from the song Dumb Ways to Die, which I had on my tablet the first time we were in the hospital waiting for scan results and ran out of ways to entertain Simon. So we let him watch it and he is kind of obsessed with it now). The people listening actually turned away from me. I mean legitimately turned their backs and stopped looking at me. To say it was hurtful would be downplaying what that felt like. It was one of those moments where I was tempted to yell "I DON'T HAVE A DISEASE!". I get that I am the face of pain to them right now, and they don't know what to do, but really, it was probably one of the worst things they could have done. Well, that, and ignore me. Which they did too. It was super fun, let me tell you...

You can use tractors and trucks to make cookies.
Right?

But Simon had fun. And that made most of it worth it. And by the end of the night, at home with Simon in bed, sitting with Phillip, a glass of wine, and watching Elf (after shedding copious amounts of tears, because you can't cry while watching Elf. It's too funny), I could say it was a nice Christmas with my little family. 

Silent No More

A fair warning to anyone who reads this blog: I will talk about my dead son.

Apparently, the fact that I HAVE a dead son and mourn his loss makes people uncomfortable.

The fact that I am slowly gaining the strength and courage to actually talk about him, and the trauma of loosing him, makes people more uncomfortable.

And so I warn you, I will not be silent about it. It is a fact and a pain that permeates every facet of our lives now. And I will not ignore it. 

And if that bothers you, stop reading. Stop following. 

I tell you this not to spare your feelings, not to make you less comfortable. Because I don't care about your feelings right now.

I care about mine. 

I care about my husband's.

And we have, in a short time, already been very very hurt by people who feel uncomfortable around our grief that, even if we tried to hide it, pours from us. 

And we no longer have time for that. We no longer have time for people who want us to stay silent because it might upset them more and because THEY feel uncomfortable.

We lost a child. If YOU feel uncomfortable, think about how we feel. WE now get to deal with this loss, with our feelings,  in what way we choose. YOU get to choose a new way.

And if you are among those that have rallied around us in prayer, thoughts, and kind words...

Thank you. You have given comfort in ways that you can not imagine. 

Thanksgiving 2014: A Bit Different

I LOVE my little boy getting to play
in the dirt!

I wasn't sure we would be celebrating Thanksgiving this year, my most favorite of holidays, because one of three situations was going to be true: A) I would be so hugely pregnant I would look and feel like I'd swallowed a planet, thus lacking energy to cook a massive meal. B) I would be in labour, since my due date was the 28th, and Thanksgiving was the 27th. C) I would be remarkably busy and tired with a newborn, thus lacking time and energy to cook a massive meal.

We didn't plan on not having any of these things happen, and our little boy dying a month before he was due to come instead, giving us the crappy consolation prize of more time and energy than we'd banked on. But we still weren't sure what to do about Thanksgiving, other than pumpkin pie because that is just an any-time-of-the-year food for us, though especially for Thanksgiving times.

As it turns out, our friends up the mountain were planning on cooking us a Thanksgiving dinner for the last few months since I'd talked with my friend and told her how much I love the holiday, but that we most likely wouldn't be doing the food part this year.

After Bennet died, our friends still wanted to make us dinner, and either drop it off at our house so we could have a little holiday alone, or, if we wanted to, still do it with them. This was all a complete surprise to me, and I cried. A lot. To know that someone cared that much who didn't share my little American traditions, who has 10 children of her own to care for, wanted to do this big thing for me and my family. I was more touched than I can say.

So my husband and I decided to have it with them. Because, while both of us love Thanksgiving food, the absolute best part of it for me has been being with family; that close, slow, crazy, cosy, warm feeling you get from sharing an epic meal together. And they may not be family by blood, but we are in "the family of God", and their actions toward us have shown a care that family and good good friends show.

So in spite of all my grief, I let go of my favorite holiday a little this year, and shared it.

And it was fun. And crazy. And homey. And really wonderful.

And it was hard. Because a little person who should have been with us wasn't. And as much fun as I had eating and talking and laughing, there were still moments of hurt. And I still had to fight off small bouts of anxiety and nervousness that are, quite honestly, new to me.

In the rather brief planning of this Thanksgiving, my friend asked me if there were any special Thanksgiving traditions we did. I have none. Other than my random list of things I am Thankful for (that I may have forgotten to do last year...) I really have none. So she asked her children to think of something they would like to do. They chose: come up with a rhyme or riddle and say it in front of everyone. Being Australian, and mostly under the age of 10, most weren't complicated or had anything to do with Thanksgiving, but ALL were fun. I really did love it! (Though I didn't participate. I'm rubbish at coming up with rhymes and riddles. I am not Bilbo Baggins.)

Now, as far as the food portion of Thanksgiving went, it was pretty fantastic as well. And I think we may have gone a bit overboard, but hey, leftovers are great. There was the turkey, the stuffing/dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, rolls and bread, and, what I am most proud of this year, an entirely made-from-scratch green bean casserole. Because I can not find those crunchy onions that you put on top, but finally figured out, DUH, you can MAKE them because all they are are fried onions. And I made the cream of mushroom soup too. IT WAS GREAT. Nothing was mushy and gross by the end of it.

And of course, 4 pumpkin pies and LOTS of fresh whipped cream. And, for the first time doing Thanksgiving in Australia, I didn't have time to take pictures of all the food because, like Thanksgivings back home, there was plenty of noise, chatter, and wonderful distractions. I really did love it all.

An Unexpected Goodbye

Today Phillip and I buried our second born, a son, Bennet.

He was born on October 21, stillborn. 4lbs 7ozs. With beautiful dark hair.

I haven't even reached my due date yet, November 28th.

I was only 33 weeks and a few days when he stopped moving normally and we went into the hospital one night, thinking, hoping, it was nothing.

But for reasons yet and maybe always unknown, our baby boy had had a massive brain hemorrhage, multiple and continuing we would find out later after being flown to Hobart for the emergency c-section that never happened because there was nothing that could be done for our little boy. Our Bennet.

Something about an ongoing development that caused it, something not seen on the 20 week scan. Something we could do nothing about. Something that would have taken his life sooner rather than later regardless of what we or the doctors did.

And I am completely and utterly heartbroken. And numb. And want to and need to write more, but I can't. Not just yet. Because I still can hardly say and believe the words "I have lost a son". Because my womb, my arms, are so very empty, and a grave that is so so tiny is full.

Platypus Encounter

After three years of living in Tasmania, I have had the opportunity of seeing most major wildlife (as in, what most people would think about when they think about Australia). I've even had the opportunity to pat some of them, thanks to Wings Wildlife Park.

But for three years, the closest I have ever come to seeing a platypus was some ripples in a pond.

A few weeks ago (over a month at this point, I started writing this a while ago), that changed.

We had quite a bit of torrential rain and flooding a few weeks back, and just after it, we were driving to Devonport for...  I don't remember what. But because of downed power lines and flooded bits of road, we had to take a road we wouldn't normally take. As we were driving along, Phillip SOMEHOW spotted a platypus swimming in the gutter on the side of the road. He backed up (this was a fairly deserted country road) and pulled over so I could get out of the car and waddle over to it (I am somewhat largely pregnant at the moment). Sadly the only camera I had on me was on my phone, but thankfully the platypus wasn't very fearful of me and rather slow, and only had the bit of water in the ditch to swim away in, so I got a few OK shots in.

I don't know WHY, but they are SO CUTE!

Phillip, somewhat jokingly, asked me why I didn't pick it up. My response was that I didn't want to die.

You see, male platypuses have little spurs on their back feet that are capable of moving on their own, much like how you wiggle your toes. And they produce a rather painful venom that they can inject you with using these spurs. Its powerful enough to kill small mammals, and while there are no reported human deaths, I'd rather not chance it. Especially after the story Phillip found about one man who had been stung by a platypus. On Wikipedia. (Which you can read here!) Pain. Excruciating pain is what seems to mildly describe a platypus sting.

Still, day made! Week, even! Australian mammals are pretty exciting to begin with, but there is just something extra special about the platypus.

As a side note, when Simon woke up from his nap in the car, I showed him the photos and told him "Platypus!", to which he responded, "Plap!" all of once, and never again. 

Special Saturday

Last weekend was the first Saturday we had without any obligations whatsoever in... neither Phillip nor I can remember when the last Saturday was. Several months at least. But Friday night, both of us say down, tired, cranky, realizing we hadn't had time as a family, just the three of us, in ages. Doing something fun, getting out of the house. Spending time TOGETHER.

And we were suffering for it. Simon was cranky, tired of being in the house, and missing spending time with his daddy, I was cranky, overworked, overwhelmed, and suffering from some major cabin fever, and Philip was overworked, listless, tired, and somewhat aloof because of it.

So we erased from our minds all the many many chores that needed doing, all the little extra cleaning and organizing projects that have piled up due to outside-the-house obligations and general taking care of a toddler business, made an agreement to ignore all texts and invites, and make plans for the day for just the three of us.

It was wonderful.

We did our normal special Saturday morning breakfast, which is really just something different from what we usually would eat throughout the week, and took it fairly easy and relaxed for the morning. It was, amazingly enough, a warmish and sunny day for winter, so we packed a simple lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and fruit, and left for Turner's beach for the afternoon.

Thankfully, the tide was out so there was a massive stretch of well-packed, not too wet sand for Simon to run around on like a crazy person. He loved it. He loved it even more when strangers walked by with their dogs, and he noticed that their were sea gulls. And that there were rocks he could throw. And that the world was so BIG. We didn't do much more than walk up and down the beach talking and watching Simon take everything in and enjoy himself, which was enjoyment enough for Phillip and me.

Chill dude wearing his Aunt Jojo's old sunglasses

Our one decent family photo in AGES

The fall looks worse than it was.
(Which is why I crack up every time I look at it)
He got right back up smiling and running around.

Look Mommy! I found a rock!

Found out he could throw rocks over things.

He read the whole way home.
This is his standard car activity.

On the drive home, after two hours of playing and eating, Philip and I talked about how... FUN the afternoon had been. How nice it was too just be our family, to relax together, and how important we both feel it is that we continue to do things like this together. Simon has such a natural love of the outdoors, and we want so much to encourage that. We want our children to have fun memories (or at least feelings of) little family outings. Nothing big, nothing expensive, just... us.

A Bit Lacking

It's not that I don't have words. I have plenty of words. Its not that I don't have time either, honestly, because I can make time. I just don't have the energy to write much of anything lately.

I don't even remember how far behind I am in my emailing.

We're expecting baby number two. Sometime November-December. I know I know, I'm VERY late announcing it here. But first of all, I like to do the 'wait 3 months before you tell' thing, and secondly, the first 4 months of this pregnancy were rough. Not as rough as some people have it, most definitely, but still, rough. I'm still having trouble reminding myself to eat (anything but cookies and ice-cream... Which we don't have around the house anyway. Oh, and potato chips).

So between the morning sickness that never ended, pregnancy induced exhaustion, regular looking after a toddler exhaustion, and taking care of basic household needs like laundry and food, I'm physically spent by the time I wake up in the morning.

And my homesickness increases exponentially when I'm pregnant apparently, and Simon has decided to act like a little minion from hell half the day the last few weeks, so add to that emotionally spent.

So by the end of the day (or during nap time, if that even happened) all I want to do is sit and veg. No writing, no emailing, no painting or knitting. Just veg. Or Pinterest. Which is kind of the same thing.

So forgive me, if you still read this. I have words, I have LOTS of words.

Just not the energy.