Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Happy mum, Happy family

Finding happiness in this journey of parenthood has been an ongoing battle. I'm not sure when that battle began, it wasn't from the first moments of parenthood but maybe a while after that.
I really don't understand why or how it became a battle for me. Being a mum was truly the. only. thing. I really knew I wanted in my life from a very early age. And in all honestly it is the best thing that I have ever done. It doesn't make sense then that I have struggled to find inner peace and happiness, but I have.
Last winter was a truly awful time for me. Depression and anxiety hit me hard.

I found a way out of that, slowly, one step at a time and I resolved to actively take steps to ensure that doesn't happen again. I changed jobs, I signed up for a grueling endurance event to ensure I kept active, I took time out, every now and again for myself (and tried to not feel guilty about that), and, on the advice of a friend I started reading Sarah Napthali's book 'Buddhism for mothers'.

I am slowly working towards acceptance and peace. I'm not quite there, to be honest, but I feel better equipped to continue moving forward. Now is the time to really actively take steps to ensure I don't fall in a winter slump. It was Lola's 4th birthday on Sunday, we had a really lovely day and emotionally, I felt strong. However the days following, I have felt a little of the fog start to creep in. I've felt the temptation to cancel all of my plans and lock myself away for winter. I've lost my temper with the kids more than once.

It is a fine line between taking time out to restore and rejuvenate and isolating myself to wallow and allow unhealthy thoughts into my mind. I am forcing myself to not cancel social events, to continue to be active, to work on being a calm and happy mother, to set goals, make plans, be healthy!

Happy 4th Birthday Angel xx

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Something wasn't right

I've shared so much on this blog about my pregnancies and births and grief and happiness.
But I haven't shared everything.
There are things I have been aware of all along. Memories, thoughts, feelings. I've known things but I haven't acknowledged them. They are truths that were, that are, too painful to consider.
I didn't connect with Lola in my pregnancy, the way I did with the others. It hurts to even write that.
But I think that maybe I knew, on some level, what the outcome would be/could be.
I remember in the early days some of the things I said and felt that indicated this. But on a conscious level I never acknowledged it.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013


I can't breath
My heart is beating crazy fast
I feel faint
Everything is black
What's wrong with me?
I'm going to die
Should I call for help?
I don't know what to do? I have noone to call.
I'm seeing stars
I remember someone I could probably call
I don't want to be a burden but I don't want to die.
I call
Then I am ok
and I realise I was having a panic attack
and I am sick of myself
I just want to be strong, and normal
I dont want to be a burden to my husband
my children
my family
my friends
and I hate myself for being exactly that.

Three triggers in 10 days. Unlucky?
Or a sign that I am not ok AGAIN.

Nowhere to turn. No time for a breakdown.
My pain. My heart. My head.
I am a messy mess.

Where to?

More counselling? More money down the drain that we JUST. CAN. NOT. AFFORD.
and for what.

Me to still not be ok.

No answers.

Just Drowning.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

A week of sads

That is what has brought me back to my old, faithful blog.

It happens every now and again. A few things happen, within a short time, that take me back. I shed my tears, I frown, I wallow.

Grief doesn't go away. You just learn to live with it. Most of the time. But not always.

It's often so unexpected. We went away on the weekend with a big group of friends. It was great fun. And then someone told a joke, with a punchline that knocked the wind right out of me. In that way that post-traumatic stress disorder is triggered, by something small and unrelated and unnoticed by all others. The punchline was words that I have not heard since that terrible day 'nearly' four years ago. It wasn't the joke itself, or the person telling the joke, it was just a trigger that took me back and I fell back into grief.

Since then my week has been littered with incidents and reminders and negative talk in my head, anxiety over completely unrelated things. The more I try to lift myself up the harder it becomes to keep moving myself forward.

Just another glitch in my recovery.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

You know that show?

On channel Ten? Offspring?

I love it.

And I hate it.

I think it must be written by someone who has lost a baby. The issue comes up regularly and the way it is dealt with is so true and compassionate. Tonight's episode was so close to home that it physically hurt. I sobbed hard. So hard I could hardly breath. But anyway it brought something up for me that I haven't spoken about before and I thought maybe I want to.

On the show the father of a baby born very prematurely had his family rally around him. His mum and dad and his sisters. They were so involved and it was their pain and their experience too. We had a load of family around us too. Some had immediately jumped on a plane from Perth as soon as they heard the news. However there was one glaring hole.

I have a brother. Our relationship, in adulthood, has been fractious. The day after Lola was born I received a text message from him that read 'sorry for your loss'. It made me so angry (the anger is building up in me again just writing this). Why did he write that? Why did he bother writing that? That meant nothing to me. He didn't use her name. It wasn't just a loss, her name is Lola and she is his neice. It's not just my loss, it is my pain and your pain too, she is a part of our family, you are related to her. Did you cry about losing a baby neice? Did you actually care that your sister was in the most pain a human being can ever feel. Your words, in a text message, had no meaning, they felt cold and uncaring and probably hurt me more than if you'd done nothing at all. At least if you'd said nothing I could imagine that she, Lola, meant something to you.

*It's true what they say. The pain never goes away, you just learn to live with it. It still surprises me, the verocity of grief after three years. We shared our story yesterday for a television interview in order to promote the organisation Hearfelt and it was more difficult than I imagined. However we talked about whether we could do it again. The answer is a resounding YES. Despite it being hard, it brought us incredible satisfaction and peace to think that our pain and Lola's short time on earth could be used to help others and well, do good. The story was for the ABC's 730. It won't be aired for a few weeks though.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Hopeless and lost

I am finding it hard to bounce back from Lola's third birthday. I am falling into desperation. I feel manic at times. Forced happiness that feels like craziness. Overwhelming anger over nothing much. Hopelessness at how to pull myself back.
I sense Brendon is struggling too. We're like zombies, just getting through, side by side but separate.
I want change, I need change. I feel burnt out from my job. It is hard to give what I need to give to the people I work with when I feel like this, especially when the pressure continues to increase. It is too much.
I could ask for help, I know. But I don't know what that help looks like.
Everything that was great and exciting a few months ago feels grey now and too hard.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012


We don't know for sure, but we think this day, three years ago, is the day Lola died. Tomorrow will mark three years since we found out that she had passed away and Saturday would have been her third birthday.

I have had it in my head for months that I would take today and tomorrow off work to give myself some space to grieve, be sad, cry or whatever I needed to do. As this week approached I tried to keep my diary as clear as possible. My job is such that it can be hard to say no sometimes though. Our clients are vulnerable and depend on us to be there for them. So I said yes to a meeting this morning despite what I knew.

I started crying last night and have been teary since. I cried all the way to work. I cried the moment I walked into my office and saw my friend. I stopped crying for the meeting and held myself together for the entire time, but I started crying the moment I was out of the meeting. I cried the whole way home.

I feel pain in my chest and I can't breath. My muscles all over my body are fatigued. My head is pounding and I can't think. I can't see. My heart hurts so bad.

It stills feels unjust, unfair. Why me, why us, why Lola.

Three years is forever, and like it was yesterday.

I am right where I need to be. At home on my couch under a doona.