Three, two, three

I'm not a very good blogger. I have always admired those who keep up with their blogs on a more regular basis and update their readers as to what is going on in the daily minutiae of their lives, but that has never really been me. At least, not since the height of my grief when it seemed all I had was this blog.

So I thought it was about time for a bit of an updatey type post, complete with a few pics of the kiddlets.

***

Juliet will be three months old on Friday, which is quite hard to believe. Time certainly flies when you're getting no sleep! She's a happy little baby who likes to be snuggled to me and will sleep for hours on end if she's being cuddled or held. On her back in a basinette?  Not so much. But while she's little, we don't mind meeting her needs in this way, especially as we think this really could be it for us in terms of growing our family. She's smiley and interactive and often if she's fussing, all you have to do is prop her on your knee, look at her and coo and she'll give you the biggest, cheesiest grin back in return. She's a people person like her mummy I guess and just wants to make people happy. And that she certainly does. She's an "easier" baby than her big brother and I am in turn a much more calm and relaxed mummy. It has all been confidence really and with Angus, I had none. Grief smashed what little confidence there was then his fussiness took away the rest.

At my six week check up a few weeks back, the dreaded CMV monster which almost derailed the pregnancy reared it's ugly head again, just when we thought we didn't have to worry about it anymore. Even though my amnio came back negative for the virus at 21 weeks, there was the chance the result could have been a false negative or that it could have crossed the placenta later in the pregnancy. Juliet was supposed to be tested at birth, but the obstetricians/paediatricians forgot and so did we. I think because she always looked so good on the many ultrasounds we had then looked so big and healthy at birth, it just slipped their minds as CMV babies are often smaller with a smaller head and this certainly wasn't the case for our not so little girl. So at seven weeks of age, we had her tested. And of course, the result was positive. We then had to try and determine if she got the virus in utero or picked it up in the first seven weeks of her life.

We were told that if she did get it in utero, that the consequences could have been much worse. Just as we were told when we first found out I had CMV when I was about seven weeks pregnant, we discovered hearing and vision loss could have been obstacles in her future, despite how good they both already seemed.

But if she picked the virus up post birth, then we were told there really wasn't much cause for concern, as it is such a common virus with small children, especially when there is a toddler around.

So off we went to see a paediatrician who gave our Juliet a thorough looking over. She's in the 90th percentile for weight and head circumference and feeding well and behaving like a very "normal" little baby, so she wasn't too worried, but said we could have her newborn screening test (the heel prick test) re-tested for CMV to see if it was present at birth. And thankfully, it wasn't. The most likely scenario is that she got it from my breastmilk, which really couldn't have been avoided because not breastfeeding her was simply not an option for me and I'm sure the benefits of breastfeeding her far outweigh the small risks of a nasty side effect from getting the virus. She will have a follow up hearing test at six months to be doubly sure everything is in order, but I feel in my heart she's perfectly fine - I really do have to go with my gut and trust my mothering intuition for once. As someone who has worried about absolutely everything, then when it seems there is nothing to worry about, conjured up something to worry about, I am certainly not worried about any of this. I hope I don't have to eat my words, but I have no reason to believe that my precious little girl is anything but perfectly healthy.

***

On to my big boy. My spunky, determined, stubborn, feisty, funny but very affectionate little boy. He will be TWO on Thursday. Now THAT is hard to believe. He seems to be saying a new word everyday and stringing more and more of them together, though "no" or "no mum" are of course his favourites. We're taking him to the zoo for his birthday then having a barbecue with family in the park later that night. Nothing special, no fanfare, just sticking close to the people we love and who love us back.

Angus and I have never really been apart, except for the few nights I was in hospital when Juliet was born so we can start to drive each other a bit nuts by the end of a long week together, especially considering he's still adjusting to having a little sibling around, but we certainly have a very special bond. Here I was worrying myself about how on earth I'd entertain him while I had to sit for long periods of time every day to feed a new baby, but it turns out they are the easiest times of my day, as he comes and sits with me and strokes my hair and puts his arms around my neck. And often when I'm not holding her and she's in the swing, kicking about on the floor or in the bouncer, he asks me to pick her up so we can sit on the couch and all have a snuggle again. He's taken very well to having little "Juju" around and heaven forbid anyone else try and touch or hold her. "Juju, JUJU!! Mummy, Juju!" he says as points to her then back to my arms, indicating that's where he wants her to go. And heaven forbid you try and put him to bed without having given little Juliet a kiss. It is very sweet to watch and certainly turns my heart to mush.

I never wanted Angus to heal or fix me, as that was simply unfair and totally unrealistic, but my god he has helped me. He gave me purpose and reinstated my motherhood. I didn't just lose a baby when Hope died, I lost my motherhood and with that, it felt my total identity. He gave that back to me and really, brought me back to life. I doubt he'll ever realise just how special he is. I look at him now and I simply cannot connect him to the nine months of dread it took to get him here. Every moment of panic, every dreaded trip to the hospital emergency department, every tear shed - they were all worth it, a thousand times over. And the last two years have been a very steep learning curve but in reality, I wouldn't change a single second of them. All of the hair-pulling, foot-stamping, crazy hard moments have also all been worth it, because I get to be his mummy and that's all I ever wanted. A kid who lived and who would eventually drive me crazy!

***

This blog also has a birthday this week. My third "blogiversary" is on the 18th. I don't think I've ever written about it before, because I guess for the past two years, it has coincided with a very busy time of year for me. I remember that lonely November day when I finally took the plunge and started the blog. It was the day before Hope's three month anniversary, and I thought the sun would never rise in my world again. I was in the thick of trying to get pregnant and a huge ball of anxiety, anger and sadness. It is hard to believe that just 12 months from that day, my arms were full again. I guess deep down I always knew I'd probably have another baby soon after Hope died. I of course worried that I wouldn't and that I'd never conceive again, but I did and it was quick and I'm forever grateful. But if you'd told me on that day that in three years time, I'd have two living children, I really don't think I would have believed that. Having two under two certainly does have it's challenges, but of course those don't stack up to the lifetime sentence that is living without Hope.

People sometimes ask me what I'm going to do with this blog. For now, I'm happy to keep it going as it is, that is - limping along. I don't need it as I once did and I certainly don't have the time to nourish it like I did back in those dark, desperate, early months. I have half considered going private, starting a new one to more freely discuss the living babies but it feels right to keep it all here, as it is. I have one life, and this is it. So this one blog will try and capture snippets of what goes on in this very life, the life where there are two babies in my arms and one in some place I can't reach. It is that parallel life of mine, desperately beyond my reach, that I wonder about the most. The life I never got to live. The one where my firstborn didn't die, and I headed down the more traditional route to parenthood where you get pregnant, stay pregnant, then bring baby home nine months later. I was just saying to a friend today, that despite how "well" I am doing now and "coping" with the shitty hand I've been dealt, I will never be the same. I am not the person I once was and I can never go back. She sort of disagreed with me and said I was "too hard on myself" because motherhood (that is, live baby motherhood) would have changed me anyway. Yes, it probably would have. But I am sure as hell that I am a lot different, irreversibly different, because she died and because I didn't get that version of motherhood, and indeed life. I guess I will never really know though. That's the thing about all of this. The not knowing. And I suppose that's in essence why I do keep coming back here. To try and make sense of the things that simply don't make sense. And it will never make sense, so the blog will remain so I can go around and around until I'm so dizzy I can't stand up anymore. For now though, I'm not there. So here I am. Still standing. Still not knowing. But of course ever so grateful for all that has come my way since stillbirth tore my life in two, three years and three months ago.

And because I haven't yet got around to making a slideshow of pics from Juliet's birth (as I did for Angus) here is the song I would have used for it if I did. I listened to it a lot when pregnant with her, saw the band (Belle & Sebastian) during the pregnancy and generally just love this song, so enjoy. I guess the name of the song really says it all, about so many things.