A musical catch up

Sometimes time doesn't heal, no not at all. Just stand still, while we fall..........

I have had so much going on in my head of late, and after taking a few days "off work" recently to clear my mind and try and process my thoughts, I knew I needed to come back here to do that. This is not really going to be a coherent post. It will be disjointed. But it is just a snapshot of the things we have been doing and the thoughts I have been entertaining. Sprinkled with a few bittersweet memories and reminders, as always.....

I have been busy the last few days, really busy. And the house shows that. It started out with a visit to my friend and her twin girls last week to help her with some gardening. She knew I didn't mind gardening and she really needed the help. Another pair of hands is always going to go a long way in a house with twins. I ended up staying for dinner then until bedtime for the girls, where I got to witness their bedtime routine including a tussle to get in to their PJs and fresh nappies, book time and teeth cleaning.

A few days later, I had my lovely friend and her 15 month old little boy here for lunch and later that day I went back over to their house for dinner. I have such fun with him. Real fun. Even though these days he's not dishing out the hugs and kisses as freely, with his new favourite word being "no" he's still a joy to be around.

Hanging out with others and their kids has been a big part of my healing, but it is also still very hard. Not being a real mama yet, and with those kids not needing me like they need their mamas makes me want to cry. I help out where I can. I feed them meals, I sit with them, read to them, watch the Wiggles with them and help put them to bed, but I'm not their Mum. I'm just some strange lady who hangs around a bit and they probably wonder why I look so sad. I wish I felt as needed as my friends who are Mums do. I know I am needed, by so many but no one can need you the way a child needs their mother. I wish I felt needed.

We drove two hours this weekend to go back to Simon's home town for an impromptu visit. We spent the weekend at his parents house but Simon spent the most of our time there visiting his friends, their wives and their lovely kids. We did not attend that first birthday party. It has been agreed that we were invited, but that our invite must have been lost in the post. Of all the things to go missing in the post, that stupid invite had to be it.

Simon then went to one of the couple's houses for dinner on Saturday night. Four couples, four kids. One of them being, a tiny newborn. I don't know how he did it, but I know he wanted to catch up with his mates. Because life gets busy. They live far away. And he just doesn't get to see them very often. Even if he is going through a massive personal tragedy.

He said he got to talk to his friends, but it was hard being in a group, and being without me. I don't think he got to really talk to them though. It was mostly just fluff conversation about work and the mundane happenings of life. The girls all sat off on their own, as we girls do I guess, and they all had their kids to talk about and fuss over. As all mothers do, naturally.

But he said it was all hard to hear. Maybe they were trying to keep their voices down, I'm not sure, but he could still hear. And the whole time he sat there and tried to be polite, I know he just kept thinking "why us?" or more specifically "why not us?" He came home tired and upset and not feeling entirely sure that he should have gone. This in turn just makes me upset. I hate that he had to do that alone, but I knew full well I could not be there. He said I would have probably run out several times in tears and I know he's right. He was only gone a few hours, but I missed him when he was gone. And I hated that he had to face that new baby alone. I asked what the baby looked like when he got home, but he could barely tell me. He said he didn't really look. Just faked a quick glance I guess and gave off a quiet coo. And Simon has always loved babies just as much as me. Now we can't even look at them.

He caught up with the boys again the next morning to play a round of golf and the girls invited me out for breakfast. They said the newborn would not be coming, to try and coax me out of the house. Nothing was going to get me to go to that breakfast.

I cant expect people to leave their kids at home for me. I never asked them to do that, but I don't expect they should have to do that for me. That tiny baby needs his mother. And I can't ask them not to talk about the joys of parenthood, just as they were the night before. I know they would all do it for me though, as they want me to be comfortable, and they all desperately want to see me again, but I'm still not ready. When an animal is wounded in the wild, they retreat and withdraw until they are healed. And this is just what I am doing. I will never fully heal, but I know I will get to a place one day when I can see them and their children again. A group setting in a restaurant over bacon and coffee where god knows what might trigger my tears, is just not the right time or place. I still need things to be on my turf in my time. People are still just going to have to wait. I still don't see what the hurry is here. We're not even at seven months. I'm not sure I will ever tire of reminding people just how long it has been. I suspect in years to come I'll still be saying "it has only been 6/15/22/28/32 years, what is the hurry here people?"

After golf, Simon then visited another couple who have always been close friends of ours. Their four year old boy is Simon's godson and they also have a one year old daughter. The mother told me when I was 39 weeks pregnant she did not bond with her daughter the way she did her son. She had made it quite clear all along, she never wanted a girl, as she's never had a great relationship with her own mother. I always thought it was a strange thing to say to a woman about to give birth, especially because I'd always made it quite clear I didn't care what gender my child was - just happy and healthy thanks. Hah. But she decided to share this with me. And I suspect she feels awful about it now. But I wouldn't really know, as she's one person who has not really contacted me. Like so many, she sent a few emails at the start. Now I don't hear boo out of her. Same goes for so many I know. I think some friends really just want to be there for the good times, and not the bad. Good friendships should really be like marriages, through sickness and in health, through good times and bad. Some I suspect only want to be there for the moments of joy, and not through times of sorrow. If they think they can go awol now and show up in the future when a new baby of mine and joy arrives, they are in for a rude awakening.

For me though, the weekend was a good time for me to see Simon's mum and talk. She gets far less opportunities to do this than me, as I think her friends are tiring of the damn "dead baby" conversation, too. After all, they all have their own grand kids to fuss over - much more interesting and exciting. But she was there the day I laboured and birthed Hope and she witnessed the entire event. All of it. She's still hurting deeply and it helps me to know just how hard it has hit her. And as much as it stings, I like seeing the little shrine she has made at her house for my missing daughter.

On mothers, it was my Mum's birthday last week. Birthdays for me have all been tough since I lost Hope. Celebrating the day we were born alive just seems so futile. I know if Mum wasn't here, I wouldn't be here and that would mean Hope would have never existed. So I know the day needed to be celebrated, but I have just forgotten how to find joy in those simplest of family events. I didn't get a chance to see her, but I am seeing her tonight. I have not been able to buy her a gift though. More specifically, I can't buy her a card. I took such joy in writing cards for the nine months I carried Hope. They were always signed "Sally, Simon and Baby H" (for our surname). I was so looking forward to be able to sign cards "Sally, Simon and (insert baby's name)" but now, it is just back to boring old Sally and Simon again. If I have to sign a card these days, I just sign it with our surname, and put the word "family" after it. We are and always will be a family. Forever, a broken family though. At least an incomplete family.

During the last few days, in between visits and catching up with people, I have also had many emails to keep up with. I have been talking a lot to new friend Angie about the journey of grief. I pisses me off how reality TV contestants can throw the word "journey" around so freely. They think because they can dance on tv one night a week, they are on a journey. What we are on is truly a journey. We shared special moments of our pregnancies. Moments which we should have been able to look back upon with fondness. Now, when we look back, it stings. I told her of a moment that came in to my head last week. It was when I was driving home from my friend's house for dinner, and I realised it was about this time last year, I was driving home along that same road, and I came to a familiar set of lights.

I didn't talk to my belly often, but on this particular day, at this particular intersection, for some strange reason, I did.

"Hello baby," I said. "Hello little baby."
"Are you my Lily or my Leo (now I'm giving both my names away). Lily or Leo? Who are you little baby? Mummy loves you little baby. Mummy can't wait to meet you little baby."

It was all so vivid. Driving along. Stopping at the lights. Rubbing and talking to my belly. This time though, I was so alone. No one to talk to. No big belly to rub. Just Mummy, but no baby. Not on the inside or the outside. I want to hang on to all these memories though. They remind me of a time filled with such expectation and excitement. One day, I might be able to look back with that fondness Angie and I spoke of. I hope it wont always sting the way it does now.

I have also spent lots of time chatting to the warm and lovely Sarah, discussing upcoming pregnancy tests we may or may not be soon taking. Talking about our hopes and fears and all that falls in between. And beautiful Sophie, who I plan to soon meet so we can have all of those same discussions, only face to face. And how wonderful that will finally be. Sophie's right where I want to be right now, pregnant, so I can only hope I join her on the other side soon. She's one pregnant person I know I wont feel uncomfortable around - and I need her to know that. And there is also my new loss friend who doesn't blog but who emails me several times a day. I'd go nuts if I didn't hear from her! She reminds me every single day how normal I am and how much we are alike on our "journey". Some day soon, I am going to meet this new friend, too. I suspect we will have many tears to shed together, but also many moments of hope as we look forward to our futures. I feel so lucky to have found her but I remain heartbroken she has to be here. Hearing of another mother who went through what I did always breaks my heart. Why does it have to keep happening?

I should probably also mention, the lyric at the top of this post. And share another little story. It comes from a song off the most recent Jack John.son album. I have always like his music and during the pregnancy, I played it a lot. It was just right. Light, bright and uplifting. The song Banana Pan.cakes was one that was on regular rotation and I'm pretty sure, Hope liked it. She would move around a lot when I played it, then when I was done, her daddy and I would go off and eat those banana pancakes. It was something we did almost every weekend. A small thing we could do together before our weekends became a whole lot busier. Another bittersweet pregnancy memory, another memory that right now, makes me cry more than it does smile. In the end, we got to play her that song at her funeral. It seemed fitting to play it while we said goodbye to her.

When we were in Hawaii recently, we played a lot of his music again, especially when we had our hire car and we were cruising around the beautiful island of Kauai. It was the first time we had played his music in a long time. It was so hard for me to listen to for a while there, because all it did was remind me of the pregnancy and how joyous it had been. But being on his island home, we felt it was right to listen again. While we were there, we also finally picked up a copy of his latest album, Sleep Through Sta.tic. I would have bought it anyway, but when I saw it included the songs Hope and Angel right after one another, we knew we really HAD to get it. The lyrics for those songs are on the same page. Hope and Angel, right next to each other.

That lyric does not come from either of those songs, rather the song If I Had Ey.es. We listened to a lot of music in the car on the weekend. Certain songs I hadn't heard for months, maybe even years just kept coming on to the radio. Music is so wonderful for healing and it is strange to listen to songs now that I'm in this new life. Suddenly little lyrics that never meant much or touched me before now are all of a sudden so much more meaningful and poignant. So we listened to our new Jack John.son album and that song in particular several times in the car. Wise Jack is right, time does not always heal. Time continues to take us further away but it also continues to push us closer to who knows what. It is a lyric that I would not have thought twice about once before, now I know exactly what he means. My ears are so much more open to all those little lyrics now.

There have also been so, so many emails to respond to as a result of my last post. In the end, only two friends in real life emailed me in response to that post to confess they read the blog - despite such a public plea. Not what I was expecting. I either assumed wrong and only a few people do read or most decided to keep their knowledge of the blog to themselves - which is exactly what I asked them not to do. There are a few I know who read, but they ignored my request and really, I'm over it. I have said all I needed to say on that now and I'm moving on. And I know some still aren't happy with the blog and the contents but really, if it bothers people that much, they should not read it. Face.book was too brutal for me, so I simply stopped looking at it. It was difficult for me to be in their world and read about their happiness, so I removed myself from that little corner of the internet. If my sadness, anger and hurt is still too hard for some, then they shouldn't read here. No one is forcing them to. Anyway, that's enough of that......

The emails that flooded my inbox though, were mostly from strangers. And they were simply amazing and have almost left me lost for words. That was not what I was asking for and not what I was expecting when I wrote that post (rant), but it has been such a pleasant surprise. Strangers, as it turns out, can be the nicest people.

I want to finish up with this picture. I wont say who sent it, but it was one of my new stranger friends. This picture is to say thank you to all who stopped by and in particular, this one very kind person who took time out of their day to capture this small moment of beauty for us. She will never really know what this meant to me. Words will simply never be enough to express my gratitude. Thank you a thousand times, to all of you. I'm feeling wrapped in love now, by people all over the world. Hope has touched more lives than I ever imagined possible. More lives than probably all the kids I know in real life put together. This is not how I wanted her to make her impact on the world, but right now, I will take what I can get.