The physical stuff

I did something today I have not done for a long time (and no, that is not smile). I went for a bike ride.

Simon bought a bike not long after we lost Hope as I guess her death and birth gave him the fright of his life. He suddenly appreciated just how precious and short life was, and he wanted to be doing all he could to make sure he was around for grandchildren, even though all we currently have to our names is one dead child, with the prospect of our child and indeed their children a very long way away. So he now rides to work in order to maintain his fitness. He also sometimes just rides for fun and today, I joined him.

I don't actually have a bike of my own, but a friend let me borrow hers a few weeks ago as you know, she doesn't really use it anymore. Busy with a new baby and all that. And me? Well I have all the spare time in the world. She knew Simon had a bike, she thought I might like to join him, so the bike is mine for as long as I want it.

It has been sitting out the back for two weeks just staring at me. And what's more, it has been too hot to ride it, but today with the temperature 27 degrees cooler than it was on Saturday when the fires flared up, Simon thought it might be time for that ride.

I'm way too chickenshit to ride on the road, but our area is full of beautiful bike paths that wind their way along creeks and rivers.

I seriously thought we'd get five minutes from home and a) I'd fall off or b) I'd want to turn around and come home. The less likely c) was that I'd give up all together, drop the bike and make Simon carry it home (along with his bike) before coming back to pick me up in the car.

But as they say when you haven't done something in a long while, it really is just like riding a bike! You don't forget how! I might have been 14 when I last rode a bike, but at 29, it feels like I was last on a bike yesterday.

The ride was really invigorating. Wind in my hair, whizzing past people walking on the track. Sticks and leaves crunching underneath me. Warm sun on my skin. Helmet strap digging in to my chin....

We were probably only gone a bit longer than half an hour, but in that time we tackled a few gentle, rolling hills.

We got to one point and Simon said we could turn around and go back, because it was getting too steep and I was looking tired.

I've always been like this, but now even more so - I just didn't want to give up.

I thought back to the early afternoon when pushing little Hope in to this world was becoming quite difficult. Babies who have already left us aren't much help to us when we are trying to birth them silently in to the world. She wasn't able to twist and turn herself to get in a good position. She wasn't able to drop her shoulders and help her Mummy by squirming her way out safely. A big robust girl at eight pounds, it was very clear this was going to take all of my strength and courage to get her out in one piece and keep my private parts in tact.

At that point, there was talk of episiotomies, forceps and other nasty ways to "extract" my child. I was never against the idea of interventions, I figured I'd use them if I really needed them but when push came to shove (quite literally) I wanted to do this on my own. No help, apart from one obstetrician pushing on my stomach and one midwife pulling from the other end. Despite their help, I still had all the hard work to do. It was quite simply the most physical and emotionally draining thing I had ever done. It still ended with the best prize though, my child, even though she was already gone.

I channelled all of that energy I had to pedal myself up the hill today. I got up out of the seat and ground my way up that hill knowing that right now I might be an emotional wreck, but I am physically strong. My daughter's legacy to me perhaps? Don't ever tell me I can't do something, because I just will. You want me to run a marathon? Then I will. You want me to climb 100 flights of stairs? Then I will. You want me to ride a bike up a mountain (or small hill)? Then I will.

I guess I have to try and turn this energy and strength in to a belief that I will go on and I will build a family. I make no apologies for being absolutely terrified that Hope might be it. My only shot at motherhood, gone. I know everything is working in my favour. I know in the reproductive game, I have it so much easier than others, but I also had an easier pregnancy than most I know and look where that got me.

There are no guarantees in this strange life and the very thought terrifies me. People tell me to look to the future and to be positive, but right now I can't. To be honest the future scares the life out of me and without my baby and without a new pregnancy, I don't feel I have a great deal to be positive about.

But even though I am physically strong, it is still the physical stuff I am worried about. Not my strength, but my baby making bits. I am worried about things I don't need to worry about, but it is just because I'm scared of not ever reaching my dreams. Hey, I never thought I had to worry about the taboo topic of stillbirth, but it happened. I suffered that awful fate. I'd gone so far beyond the point of a viable pregnancy, in fact I carried longer than most of my friends did, and I have nothing to show for it. I worry about my body breaking. Right now the sole aim of my body is to make and temporarily house babies. I can't have anything happen to it. It needs to keep working beautifully the way it did to make and carry my Hope.

In the kitchen tonight, watching Simon make pasta (because yes, we like to make our own pasta, even though the packet stuff is cheap and easy to cook - we just like the taste of home made stuff, we like making it and we have all the time in the world to make it) I tried to envisage myself 12 or 18 months in to the future. In this vision, Simon was still kneading the pasta dough, only I was holding a baby in my arms. And yes, in my dream, we still have time to make home made pasta, even with a baby. Let me believe it for now anyway until I figure out for myself it is all too hard because babies don't leave much spare time for such indulgent things. But I did try hard to imagine this happy family unit. My heart filled up, my cooing child and my happy husband working hard to make a beautiful meal.

Somewhere, very deep down, I do believe it will happen again. I did it once before and I will do it again damn it - whatever it takes. Simon and I will leave no stone unturned to make sure it does happen. I will draw on that strength I know that is within me and I will never give up until it happens. Whatever it takes.

And for the record, when we got home Simon noticed there were seven lower gears I could have been using on the bike to make it easier for me. I thought getting up some of those hills was hard, little did I know it could have been a whole lot easier. Maybe I'm stronger than I initially thought.....