Stillbirth - the gift that keeps on giving...

I can't rid myself of these tears.

I have cried so many times over the past two years you would think that there wouldn't be any left. And yet, we cry.

I read a blog entry by a dear DBM friend today, writing about the bitterness she feels every time a new pregnancy is announced. About how she doesn't understand why, she has gone on to have a beautiful living baby, but the bitterness and the pain is still there.

I feel her pain, I really do. There is a pregnancy in our family at the moment. And I find myself feeling the most intense and awful feelings towards both the expectant mother and even, the baby. I do not wish ill on them by any means. But the jealousy and the bitterness are at times overwhelming. I thought that it would lessen once I had my own 'rainbow' baby. That the bitterness would lessen because I too had experienced a pregnancy that ended well. But being on the other side has not lessened the angst I feel when I hear a pregnancy announcement. I want to scowl and spit and throw things. I don't, I do have some self control you know, but I want to.

I want to scream at this BIPP (blissfully ignorant pregnant person) in my family "I hate you! For no other reason than the fact that my baby died and yours probably will not" I want people to remember my starbaby because I think part of it feels like the more babies that come into this world, and into our lives, the less important his tiny, short, brief little life was. The less people will remember him.

Fuck. I'm becoming a person I dont even recognise.

I bought the BIPP a baby gift today. She is over 30 weeks now and I have not said a word to her since she announced it. Not a word. I planned on hating her forever and never holding her baby. Never commenting on it. Pretending it doesnt exist.

Who is this person? This is not me! I love babies!

I can't do it anymore. I feel like I am drowing in my own negativity, in my own hatred and anger. Enough is enough. I have flipped the switch and I will no longer indulge myself and allow myself to feel this way. I will embrace this new child and try to begin the journey towards getting to know the BIPP and hopefully I will feel a little lighter, a little less villain-esque and I can stop invoking years of bad karma.

So I bought her a gift. Then I decided maybe I will keep it for myself.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Letting Go

It's interesting, a large part of the reason I started this new blog was to create a space for my whole family, for myself, for my own evolution. Like my dearest Aunt Becky I was making 2010 the Suzy-Year where I would come into my own and finally achieve some of the things I have wanted to do for years but put off.

I wanted to move forwards. I spent so much time in my grief-fog that I wanted to come out of it and move on. Part of that was letting go of my babyloss blog.

And yet...

In creating my new list of blogs to follow - my fellow DBM's blogs make up 90% of it.

Every second post I want to compose is about him.

Am I not ready to let go yet?
Or has his death started to define me, the way I swore it never would?
Or is it all just because we are edging closer, and closer, and closer towards his 2nd birthday, and the 2nd anniversary of his death?

My, how my world has changed

It's funny how quickly you adjust, and how you gain a different perspective after the death of a child. See to me, it has lost all shock value and is quite commonplace. I dont even think about what it would sound like to a stranger.

I made the mistake of mentioning it when I went in to try and get a new phone. See my contract is one month from expiry which means i am eligible for a free phone upgrade. They told me that it wouldnt expire till 17 march but I knew better because march 2 years ago I didnt leave the house, let alone go in and sign a contract on a phone. I was in hibernation after my Tiny Man's death. The sales guy started with "ohh no. See you signed up in March."
me "no, I signed up in February"
him "well it says here 17 March"
me "I can guarantee you it was February"
him "no, March"
me (wanting the argument over) "No, it was February because my son died in February and we had our new phones in the hospital when he died."
him *blinks* "ohhh maaaan. Why did you tell me that? Oh maaan thats heavy. Oh no why did you say that?"

I felt pretty bad for him to start, forgetting how awful it must sound to someone not accustomed to babydeath, but he seemed almost disgusted that I had told him. Like it was something people shouldn't mention in polite society. Well fuck that. I don't believe there is such a thing as polite society. So I only felt bad for a second. I had forgotten that it was such a bad thing, it has become just one of those things that happened to me now.

My oh my, how my world has changed.

My "Real Job" part deux

Shortly after my decision to quit Law, I met my soulmate.
After a year together I realised my first dream - to own my own home. And we set to work painting, decorating, and making a home.

At the same time, after quitting law, I decided to do the thing I had wanted to do since I was five years old, and I entered university to become an architect. Shortly after that I conceived my second son. I studied through my entire pregnancy. I finished my first year at the top of the class. I was delighted. (Just call me Little Suzy Overachiever...my family do). Of course the way I did this was to stay up all night studying and working on projects, often until 4:30am, and then getting up at 7am to get Rocket ready for school. I couldn't really continue on that way forever, especially as I was about to give birth.

And then, of course, everything changed.

My Tiny Man died, and then he was born, and I retreated into myself.

I did not go back to uni...I went back to my job as a legal assistant and re-evaluted my life.

What I decided was that the most important thing in my life was my family. My partner and my children. I decided that while I loved architecture, I could not see myself pursuing it as a career, because it would take me away from my children and my home far too much. Because, as previously stated, I am Little Suzy Overachiever and I throw myself into whatever I am doing. I am passionate about anything I do, whether it is scrubbing a floor or redesigning a commerical property.

I decided the best place for my passion was my home, and my family. So I ditched the idea of a "career" and stunned my family yet again. I dedicated my future to my family.

And being a housewife became my "real job". It is actually something I thought would NEVER happen, and if you asked my mother she would agree that the idea of me finding cleaning a house enjoyable would have been laughable a few years ago.

But here I am.

So now I just need to learn how to be a good housewife...hmmm

My "Real Job"

I've been thinking a lot about 'being a housewife' lately and what it all means.

I know that as a child of the 80s, if I had ever come to my mother and told her that I wanted to be a housewife when I grew up she would have scoffed and told me that no, when I grew up I would have a real job.

All my childhood I was told that I was so clever and was destined for great things. All I wanted was a home and children to look after. Oh and a million dollars wouldn't go astray. I was the intellectual in my family of 4 girls. One was an incredibly gifted sportswoman destined for the Olympics, one was the "pretty" one, and one was the hilarious people-person who remains one of the most unique women I have ever known. I was the "smart one". I was the one they pinned all their hopes on.

"Suzy is going to be a lawyer".

And yes, when I graduated high school with near perfect scores, I was accepted into Law School. I was also about to give birth to Rocket, my eldest son. I was a single mother at the time and I knew that going into Law would provide me with the income I felt I needed. So off to law school I went. And I was good at it. Offered a place in some fancy exclusive club for over achievers as I was in the top level of grades in the entire university. And while that thought alone gave me a warm fuzzy (who doesn't like being better than other people at something?) I decided that I would rather poke out my eyeballs with a plastic spork than go into Law as a profession.

So I quit.

Much to the shock and disappointment of my entire family, my mentors at university, and all my classmates who I'm sure were more concerned that there would be no-one around to explain concepts to them that apparently only I understood. No-one could understand why I would give it up.

I had been working in law firms for years, throughout my entire high school career actually, as my mother worked in small firms and they provided me with "holiday work" which actually meant that for $6 an hour I stood at a photocopier and sneakily read transcripts and all manner of interesting confidential documents. I also gained myself a mentor in the form of one of the top barristers in the state, who used to set me bizarre 'homework' tasks like - "find for me the atomic weight of one square metre of gold bars".

I also got to see the work that was assigned to lawyers at different levels. And I knew that once I graduated, I would spend the next 5 to 10 years doing menial, mindless, boring tasks on boring cases. And if I wanted to get anywhere I would have to spend 60 hours a week in the office doing said menial boring tasks.

Like I said. Plastic spork in my eye.

Plus I had a 3 year old at this point who I actually wanted to see and spend time with. And the reality was...I still wanted to be a housewife.