The road to conception…..

DH & I have never struggled to conceive, but I know a lot of dear friends who certainly have.

We were really lucky with both of our boys. When we decided to start trying for a family it was in April 2009. I was due to get my implanon implant outand I said to hubby “why don’t I just leave it out and lets see what happens?” He happily agreed and so began our journey into the world of pregnancy! One month later, BANG! I was pregnant with our beautiful first born son KJ.

Once I got pregnant, I met a lot of mums in Dubai andwe all had that conversation of “how long did it take you to conceive?” I was totally shocked at how many poor mummies had taken years to finally conceive. I dreaded being asked that question because I felt terrible that it had taken us no time at all! I was certainly a minority in our group.

This was further compounded when we moved back to Australia and I watched a few of my dearest friends really struggling to conceive. Then I felt even worse when, despite the odds being against us with my hubby away all the time, we conceived Lachlan first go on KJ’s 1st Birthday. I felt so awful telling my friends I was pregnant when I knew I had the thing they wanted the most and I had got it so easily.

Now the tables have turned. I lost my baby and now all my friends are getting pregnant and I am really struggling to deal with it. DH & I decided pretty much straight away that we wanted to try again.

Watching babies being born after Lachlan died was a dreadful heartache, it just kept slapping me in the face that I had lost my baby and I was no longer pregnant and that dream for me was over. My baby boy had gone forever.

We know we can never replace ourdarling boy but we still have that big dream of wanting a sibling for KJ. It was a difficult decision and we waited until we got the all clear from our ob/gyn and spent many a night discussing it before we decided to try again. Hearing people complaining about pregnancy ailments just compounds my grief, because I would give anything, ANYTHING, to be feeling those things right now and I would gladly have any morning sickness, sore back, muscle aches, fat feet and fingers you can throw my way! I now know how my friends felt when I complained to them about these things and I feel deeply ashamed of my insensitivity. (I will also never again ask someone if they plan on having any more children as I know what a loaded question that can be for some people.)

Its such a hard thing though. I am worried people might think we are “over” the loss of our baby, because that is certainly not the case. I am worried people might think that wedon’t need support anymore, when we will actually need their support more than ever. Getting pregnant is only half the battle here, once that little line appears on that pregnancy test, we have a HUGE road ahead of us that will be exciting, yet utterly terrifying at the same time. Every single moment will be spent wondering if we are going to get a healthy, breathing, screaming baby at the end of the road.

And it doesn’t matter what anyone says, lightening can strike twice and we will be holding our breaths the entire time.

But thats something we have to look forward to once pregnancy is achieved. At the moment, it just doesn’t seem that time is with us. Hubby is not here when I need him to be and I am getting extremely frustrated! The agonising wait of trying to fall pregnant is something I am just beginning to understand. I really think that those women who have been waiting for years should get a bloody medal! I really don’t know how they do it. I am guessing with a lot of unspoken grief, heartache and countless tears. And my heart just breaks for them.

I am hoping beyond hope that it will happen really soon, I so desperately want a baby to hold in my arms, they are still aching with emptiness at the loss of Lachlan. It just seems so unfair to me that we conceived so easily before and now I feel like we are being kicked while still on the ground. Why do things have to be so difficult when we have been through so much already? It just seems so unfair, and my heart breaks for all my angel mummies who are still struggling to conceive since they had their angel babies. Its like having your heart ripped out of your chest and then just for good measure, someone comes along and runs over it with a mack truck a couple of times. Gee thanks a lot!

For now, along with all the other lessons I have learnt, I am having to learn the art of patience, something that has never been a strong point for me! Dammit!

Struggling to understand

One of the things I have found really hard since Lachlan died is my faith and views on life that have been turned upside down and inside out.

I went through a phase in my early twenties when I had a lot of questions about life and I searched for a lot of answers.

I finally reached a stage where I was happy in myself and my beliefs and now I feel like I am back at square one again.

The death of a child for me meant the death of everything I thought I knew and every belief I have. After speaking to a lot of other angel mummies, I know that I am not alone in this dilemma.

I am a Christian. I believe in God and after struggling for so long with church and the judgements and utter hypocrisy of its members, I decided I wouldn’t go anymore and I would focus on my own personal relationship with God. I had many bad experiences at various churches with several member who were just utter “bible bashers” and were living a life of hypocrisy, who were not very Christian in their views and judgements of people and who condemned me for a lot of things in my life because of their interpretation of the bible. As far as I’m concerned, the bible is not a tool to use against people, and that is how so many Christians use it. As far as I’m concerned, the bible was written by men, and men are fallible. I believe in the principles of the bible and many a time when I needed some comfort I found it in scripture, but I do not believe in bashing bibles or using it against people!

I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that God would be ok with that. So after trying to stick with it for a few years and giving other churches a go, I found the same thing everywhere I went. So I left and gave up church for good.

Instead, I found a way to be a Christian that I believe is what God wanted. I reached a point in my life where I was happy with my relationship with Him and we had a pretty good thing going, or so I thought.

My first thought when Lachlan died was “why?”. Why had God done this to me? Did he hate me so much and think that I was a horrible person so He took my baby away?

I am really struggling here. I desperately hang on to the thought that my baby is in Heaven with all the other angels and having a wow of a time. It keeps me sane. I just can’t reconcile myself to think that this life is all we have, there must be life after death, I just can’t think of the alternative, it freaks me out!

I am really angry. I am angry at God. I am angry at myself and I am really angry that my Lachlan isn’t here. It’s not a nice thing to live with everyday.

People have said some very well-meaning things to me, but in my anger I just can’t bring myself to be nice about it.

“Aren’t you lucky to have your own guardian angel?” - no I don’t feel lucky to have a guardian angel, let’s make one of your kids an angel and see how bloody lucky you feel!

No I am not happy that my baby is in heaven, he should be here with me where he belongs!

I used this at Lachlan’s funeral –  ”The angel wrote down your baby’s birth, then closed the book and whispered “too precious for this Earth” - I hate that bloody angel, how dare they! Who said they could take my baby!

For now, God and I are not on speaking terms. Hmph!

 

The joys of sharehousing part 3!

(bf = boyfriend)

Continued: Part 3:

Just before I moved out, I had started coming out of my deep depression cave and decided to get a job. I found one in the legal industry for a very prestigious organisation that looks after barristers (no, not barista’s, BARRISTERS, as in Barrister at Law, LOL!)

So I moved into a house back on my old side of town where I grew up. I love the Western Suburbs.

I lived in another old Qld’er but this one had two parts. There were us that lived in an apartment built under the main house and there were 4 girls living upstairs in the main house. So in all, 7 girls in one house! EEEP!

So I moved in to the downstairs apartment with A and we had a spare room. It was on a room basis, so even if we didn’t have a tenant for that room, we only paid for ours.

We had a small kitchen, common living area and bathroom.

I swear, looking back now, that place would never have passed a building inspection, it was dismal! The first time it rained, water cascaded down our walls from a gap in the ceiling. The bathroom wasn’t plumbed properly and used to leak all the time and again, if it rained, the bathroom was flooded! But we had gas hot water and never ran out, thank god! All our plumbing was connected to the house upstairs, so even though we were separate we still shared plumbing and electricity connections.

Upstairs were 4 girls who were all uni students. They had all moved to Brisbane to study from North QLD and were all supported by their parents.

Downstairs were myself, A & AJ. A was a bit older than us, she had a fulltime job, like me. AJ was only 18, had moved down from Nth QLD to do a beauty therapy course and she did some modelling. Her parents were hoping that by sending her down to Brisbane she could get away from her 30 yr old boyfriend who happened to belong to one of the most notorious biker gangs up North.

One day I came home from work to find AJ’s scary bf sitting on the steps outside the house! He looked really mean and scary, but seemed to be an alright guy, WAY to old for AJ and I wouldn’t have wanted to cross him in a dark alley!

AJ also had a pet python, which scared the crap out of me! A couple of times he decided to escape from her room and go exploring. I hit the fucking roof when I heard her say “oh crap!” in her room! No way was I sleeping with a snake on the loose. I was perpetually terrified of waking up and being halfway down this pythons throat, it was HUGE!

Because it was “student” accommodation, we all had our own rooms with locks on the doors. This came in handy when AJ went through her phase of picking up strange people at shopping centres and bringing them home with her. Once the scary bf disappeared, I think she was lonely. She had a horrid habit of striking up conversations with strangers and then we would find them at the house. She didn’t know who they were and neither did we, so this was a little concerning! The last straw was when I woke up one morning and found 4 people sleeping on the floor in our lounge area. I hit the roof and A & myself had a big long talk with her.

Because our house was situated across the road from a bus depot, it was frequently the target of break-ins, prowlers and general no good. One morning, one of the girls bf’s woke up to find his beautiful beloved car up on stumps, the wheels had been stolen!

One night, I had just got out of the shower and was in my room talking to Matty, he was facing me and my wardrobe doors were mirrored. I was facing the window in a towel and I was looking at him not the window. All of a sudden he got up and said he just saw someone peering through a gap in the curtain, so we went outside to investigate and called the police. The prowler came back a couple of times, I think he had figured out it was all girls and was just being a peeking tom, the police were really good and caught him eventually for a robbery that was committed up the road from us.

I had started to get sick of living there, the girls upstairs liked to party and I had a fulltime job so I wasn’t really happy about the late nights. I felt unsafe there and A & AJ were starting to get on my nerves. The landlords never fixed anything either so I was really fed up.

Then my best friend, lets call her C, said she needed a flatmate. It sounded like a match made in heaven, so I packed my things (again!) and moved into a three storey walk up in a fantastic suburb. At the end of our street was a huge shopping centre, we had the train station across the road and the local pub was one street away! Fabulous! We were in a two bedroom apartment, but it was pretty roomy and even though it was old it was well maintained. It was safe and we rarely heard parties (the people on the ground floor were the worst party offenders, but it was mainly on weekends.) We had a Coles and a Gloria Jeans open up directly across the road from us and a Macca’s down the hill. Many a weekend was spent at Maccas or picking up coffees on a lazy sunday morning. C worked crazy hours in hospitality so I rarely saw her during the week as when I was sleeping she was working and when I was working she was sleeping. All in all it was a pretty good arrangement, except she was a neat freak and I so was NOT! So we had a few arguments about mess etc, but it was the best time of my sharehousing experience by far!

I lived with her for about a year, then I turned 21. That April after my birthday, I left the legal profession (another blog on that later!) and I started working for an accounting firm. DH took me out to dinner to celebrate my new job. At this point we had been dating for about 4 yrs. I had a feeling that this was the night, so C & I went shopping for my big night!

DH took me to a really lovely restaurant in the city. We sat there, full of tension. He was nervous and I was hanging out for this proposal! We made it to entree (keep in mind that everyone else was walking out due a lack of service and we had our desserts before some people got their entrees because the manager knew about the proposal! LOL!) and I said to him, “well?” and he pretended to have no idea what I was talking about. Humph! I got up in a snot and went to the loo to compose myself. I was so disappointed, I really thought that he was going to do it! I went back to the table and then he pulled out this little parcel. By this stage I was really upset. It did NOT look like a RING! So I opened it, and there was a little teddy bear (which I still have after countless attempts at murder by the dog!) and on the teddy was a little jumper which said “Forever Yours” and tied around the bears neck with a ribbon was my gorgeous engagement ring! I squealed Yes before he could even ask the question! LOL! So we were FINALLY engaged!

Not long after this, DH’s parents bought an investment property and asked us if we would like to rent it from them, so we agreed and I said goodbye to living with C and began my life with DH. It was the end of my sharehouse days, or so I thought……

Next blog, our Wedding!

Taking each day as it comes

A few of my dear friends were all pregnant at the same time as me.

After I lost Lachlan I really wasn’t sure how I would cope when they had their babies.

As you can understand, of course I would be happy for them, but at the same time I was so sad for me.

As the babies started to arrive, from about 1 week after I lost Lachlan, it really hurt so much. I was so happy for them, I really was! I cried tears of joy that they had got their happy endings. Any baby that gets to be born healthy is such a gift and a joy to hear. Its so difficult though, because you have so many emotions. Each baby born is also like a nail to the heart, because its so not fair! All I could think is “why does so & so get their baby and I don’t get mine?’

Its one of the hardest things in life, and one of the biggest questions: why do some people lose their babies and others don’t? Why does that pregnant 16yr old who smokes and drinks and genuinely doesn’t give a fuck about their kid get to have a healthy baby and I don’t get mine? Why does that heroin addict have a baby who is born sick and addicted to methadone but yet the poor baby still lives? Its one of the biggest most frustrating things ever, I lost my baby, yet others still get to have theirs.

Its hard not to be bitter and twisted about the whole thing. But on the whole, even though I am going through such a horrendous ordeal and coming to terms with losing my baby, it just wasn’t in me to be mad or resent any of my friends having their babies. I am genuinely happy for each and every one of them, because let me tell you, I would NEVER wish this pain upon my worst enemy. There are already far too many people in this world who know the pain of losing a child, and I am just relieved that none of my friends have ever had to go through this, and I pray fervently that they never will.

I know it was hard for them too, they had to share their joy with me whilst knowing how much it must have hurt me. That can’t have been an easy thing to do, because generally we don’t like to hurt our friends.

Today I went up to hospital to see a friends baby. It was a HUGE milestone for me, I haven’t really seen a newborn since Lachlan died. Walking through those hospital doors was really crippling. I had to go and sit in the hospital chapel for a few moments to gather my strength.

I was determined to do it though, I don’t want to be “scared” of seeing babies anymore. It was a fear I needed to face and I wanted to try with this baby because I knew my friend would understand if I didn’t make it up to her room and went home.

As I walked through the maternity ward towards my friends room, I saw a little humidicrib in the hallway and I could see into some of the rooms. All the mothers were there, holding their babies. It was really tough to see. How I wish that was me, holding Lachlan alive and well. What I wouldn’t give to have that! I was envious of all of them. As I walked down the hallway to my friends room, I was really scared. What if I lost it and broke down? I didn’t want to upset her, as she had just had a baby and would be emotional and hormonal herself. I took a deep breath and entered the room. The first thing I saw was her Dad and then her little boy who is 3. A feeling of peace came over me and I was ok! I saw baby E on the bed and I’m not sure if it was because she is a girl that it just didn’t effect me as much as I thought it would.

I picked her up and gave her a big cuddle. I felt teary, but elated that I could do this!

I had taken my camera up with me, as I wanted something to do in case it got too much for me, so I just focused on taking some lovely pictures that my friend could cherish forever. I hope she liked them!

So today I did something that scared me, and I came out the other side. I am proud of myself, it took guts and a lot of courage to do this.

Its another step forward in this awful process of grief.

I can’t wait to tell my counsellor, I will get a big gold star! LOL!

The story of Lachlan

I will eventually get back to part 3, but for now I want to talk about my baby Lachlan. I know some of you will have read this story before, but I have gone over it again and added a few things, so I hope you will read it again.

Lachlan Alan Shaw – Born sleeping 27/09/2011

So my DH & I have a son KJ who is almost 2 and on his 1st birthday we were lucky enough to conceive our angel baby Lachlan.

My pregnancy with KJ was so easy. I felt fantastic and I lost a ton of weight, I glowed and I felt amazing. His birth was also so easy and uneventful, so I had no problems with having another baby, I thought it would be so easy again! How wrong and stupid of me.

From the get go, I was as sick as a dog with my darling Lachlan. I was exhausted, I couldn’t eat, everything made me throw up, I didn’t want to get out of bed and I found it so hard to look after KJ on my own. I was on so many medications, including antibiotics, phenegan, rhinocort and maxillon. I am quite cross with my ob at this, I have since done some research and found out that some of the things I was on were a class c which means they haven’t been tested. It makes me wonder if they may have been responsible for Lachlans death. So I guess in a way I am blaming myself and also my ob. I have also found out that a lot of other ob’s are quite worried about my ob’s reputation for handing out prescriptions and there are a few lawsuits going on too. It makes me wonder.

On Thursday 22/09/2011 I had an ultrasound to see how Lachlan was, I was 28 weeks pregnant and my ob/gyn just wanted to give me a couple of extra scans because I have a thyroid problem, so I was going to have one then and another at 36 weeks, just to be on the safe side.

Everything was perfect. My mum and my 16 yr old sister and 14 yr old brother were there with me as my husband works up in central QLD. We were all so excited and happy, the sonographer and all of us were so happy and joking around, she said it was nice to have done a really “boring” scan, and that everything was perfect. He looked exactly like his gorgeous big brother. The funny thing is, at the end when the sonographer was listening to his cord and brain, my 18 month old son, Kaleb, freaked out a bit and had to come up on the bed with me and be touching me before he would calm down. I wonder if there is anything in that?

Fast forward to Monday 26/09/11 and early in the morning I felt Lachlan kicking, he kind of woke me up, but that was normal so I just rolled over and went back to sleep. I got up at 7am, had a shower and got ready to meet my family for lunch. Lachlan was very quiet but I just thought he must be having a rest, he was a very active baby, but my other son Kaleb used to go nuts for one day and then I wouldn’t hear from him for a couple of days, so I thought nothing of it.

At 2pm that day I had a routine check-up with my ob/gyn. I was so confident that everything was ok that it was the only appointment I went to on my own. My ob & I were chatting about this and that and then he said to hop up on the table so he could have a listen and a feel of Lachlan. He couldn’t find a heartbeat. He turned on his ultrasound machine and I couldn’t look at it, so I was looking at his face. He wouldn’t make a very good poker player, his face is so expressive. I knew then that there was something seriously wrong. I called my mum, she raced up to be with me and dad came and took Kaleb for me. My ob wanted to send us just down the road from his office for a clearer scan, so my mum & I went down there to wait until someone could see us. The sad thing is, they led us into a “crying room” and I cried so hard at the fact that they even needed one! How horrendous!

We had the scan, our beautiful Lachlan was gone, his heartbeat was no more. I cried and clutched my mum, screaming WHY??? Why had this happened to us? Why had this happened to my perfect little boy? There was no visible evidence on the scan, and the ob/sonographer who took this scan remembered me from Thursday and was so heartbroken for us, she couldn’t believe it either.

We went back up to the ob/gyn’s office, I was totally catotonic at this point, I had gone into shock,  where he gave me a big hug and was almost in tears himself. He told me what would happen next, I asked lots of questions, I don’t know how I could think of questions, but I did. We had to wait until the next morning for induction so my husband could make it home, I couldn’t even tell him, my heart was breaking so much and I didn’t have the heart to tell my wonderful husband that our baby had died, so my mum had to do it for me. My ob/gyn then gently suggested doing an autopsy so that we could try to find out why this happened, but no answers were guaranteed. I didn’t feel that we would be doing our jobs as parents if we didn’t thoroughly investigate this so I agreed.

On Tuesday 27th of September I checked in the Mater Mothers Hospital in Brisbane. Even the reception staff knew who we were, they were all so lovely and compassionate. We were ushered into a private room for about 1/2 hour in the main labour ward, but we were never able to see others in labour. Then we were ushered into a special care room set away from the main areas and were given a butterfly on our door, to signal to other staff that this was a special case. We never saw any strangers, just the nurse who was looking after us. If a stranger had to come in, they were introduced to us and we were told why they were there and they were all so lovely. My husband arrived at 10am and by then the tablet had already been inserted to induce our little boy, so it was a big waiting game,.

We met some lovely ladies from pastoral services who prayed with us and for us and told us that they would do a blessing for Lachlan when he was born if that was what we wished. I said yes. They gently explained that if Lachlan was born later that night, they would be in first thing in the morning to see him and bless him. Then we met bereavement services, who sat and talked with us for hours, gave us some extremely helpful booklets written by someone who had been through a stillbirth and was just generally so understanding and compassionate. At all times, my husband, my mother & I were treated with the utmost compassion, dignity and respect. We were never left alone if the nurse could feel we didn’t want to be. She was so wonderful, and the staff cried with us, which just made us feel that we weren’t just a number, they actually cared about us and our little boy. My ob/gyn came in a couple of times, he was so caring and yet so professional, making sure that I was ok and in perfect health and he did a great job.

Finally, at 10.41pm, after a rushed arrival from my ob/gyn who was desperate not to miss it, my little son Lachlan arrived into this world. He was born sleeping. He was so perfect, at 3lbs and 40cms long. They cleaned him up for me, dressed him and wrapped him in the quilt that his grandmother had made for him. I also had his teddy with me, he has one and I have one. We got to hold our little boy for as long as we wanted, the staff took our camera and took photos of us holding him, of his hands and feet and with his teddy and quilt. They made a memory book for us. Before Lachlan was born, we made the decision to say goodbye to our son and then leave him in peace. So this is what we did. But were always offered a chance to see him and I was told I could stay in the hospital for a few days if needed so we could have him with us. We said goodbye to our little angel, my mother and my husband held him too and told him how much they love him and kissed him. Then I had one last hold and said goodbye to my perfect little man. He looked just like his brother, only he was a little sleeping doll. So peaceful.

My husbands parents came up the next morning to see us, and bereavement services were there with us, we were offered counselling and cried with them and then I told the lady to find my husbands parents and help them too, all services are extended to all family members as well. They found them chasing KJ down the hall and my husbands mother opted to go and see Lachlan, I am so happy she did this, she was able to tell him that they love him and to say goodbye too, I was adamant that they shouldn’t miss out on this.

My husband & I are so grateful that our experience was made a bit more bearable by the hospital staff and our ob/gyn. I have read quite a few horror stories about horrible staff and hospitals and I have to say that we were so blessed by our wonderful experience. We have no regrets about any decisions made and have memories of Lachlan that we can look at anytime. We got casts of his little hands and feet that will be framed too. I thought it would be really difficult to look at photos and his things, but I find it calming and reassuring. My little boy is at peace, and he just looked like he was sleeping.

We laid our son to rest on the 5th of October 2011, in a beautiful ceremony at the Albany Creek Memorial Gardens. It was the day after my 28th birthday. The midwives who helped us with Lachlans birth were at the funeral as well, we were so grateful to them for coming.

A week later, we went to pick up his ashes and Lachlan finally came home with us, where he belongs.

I have since had my 6 week checkup with my ob/gyn and I was really hoping to get some answers from him. It was so disappointing because up until this point  he had been fantastic, but when we got to the appointment he was so unprepared. He told us he hadn’t received all the results yet and that he had looked over the ones he had received and had nothing to tell us. I feel that he handled the appointment really badly and I was amazed that he had the gall to charge us for that appointment when he didn’t even bother chasing up the results so they would be ready for us. I feel like he really let us down at the end and I am not sure I can really forgive him. I also think, as I mentioned before, that he betrayed my trust in him by prescribing me things that I probably shouldn’t have taken. I trusted him implicitly, perhaps this was my downfall. Never again will I trust a doctor, this whole experience has shattered my trust completely. I kinda feel sorry for the next ob I choose, I am going to be one tough cookie to deal with!

I had made an appointment to see my counsellor at the hospital later that day. I’m so glad I did. DH & I arrived at the appointment and we told T (counsellor) that we had seen our ob and he didn’t have all of the results. She was most taken aback as she had personally ensured they were all sent to him. She ended up getting hold of the results herself and we sat down and went through them together. T is such a lovely and caring person, this was not her job to do, but she could see we were really upset and desperately seeking some answers. She scanned through the results herself, and then phoned the head pathologist who had done Lachlans autopsy to make sure she understood all the terminology so she didn’t make a mistake when giving us the results. She told us that his size was perfect, he was a lovely size, 3lbs and 40cms long. He would have been a big boy, my little darling. He had a perfect heart, lungs, and all other internal organs that made my little baby. He had lovely eyes, a cute little nose and perfect hands and feet. Then we got to the cord and placenta. It was discovered that there were a few too many red blood cells in the placenta and not enough white ones. While T made it clear that there was no definite answer, she said that this indicated a transferring issue. Finally the end of the autopsy arrived, the official cause of death for my dear little boy was a lack of oxygen. T said that although they aren’t 100% sure, it looks like Lachlan had a transferring issue with his placenta and cord. We will never know why, but I am so upset with my ob for not going through all of this with us. That was HIS job, not T’s, and we don’t pay T $80 per consultation! Needless to say, I will be finding another ob next time. Such a shame, I really liked my old one, he was a lovely guy, but now I know what I know I can never go back to him.

I have so many emotions, its hard to make sense of them. I mainly feel like I have left my body and this has happened to someone else, but then something will happen, or someone will say something that sends me crashing to earth and I just shatter. Everyone keeps telling us how strong we are, but I don’t feel strong. I feel so helpless and like my world is ending. I would love nothing more than to hide under the covers but I have to get up every day and look after our son KJ with my husband and try to be a normal parent for his sake, but some days its really hard.

Its not just the loss of a child we are dealing with, I personally feel that I have lost my innocence completely. Never again will pregnancy be something to enjoy for me, it will be a clinical process full of tests, scans and utter fear and terror. Until I hold a baby in my arms, I will be turning blue from holding my breath so much. I don’t think that people really understand the full implications of losing a child. The grief never goes away, NEVER. There is not a day that goes by that my whole being doesn’t yearn for my little boy. I think of him every single day and wish he was here, alive and well. You just learn to live around the big hole in your soul, and learn to live with that missing piece of your heart. Every single belief I ever had has been shattered. I can never look at things the same again, I can never see God the same way again, I am questioning all of my beliefs and all of the things I thought I already had the answers to. I look in the mirror, and I don’t know who the hell that person is anymore. Its really hard to live with somedays. That little sparkle I used to have in my eye has gone. I feel like I have dead eyes, always sad, always grieving.

My friends need to realise that I will never go back to “normal”. That person doesn’t exist anymore. The old me is gone, in her place stands a new me, a person who is uncertain of who she is and her future. I am learning to live with the new me and our new “normal”. Its a hard adjustment for everyone really.

I share our story in the hope that it will help another mummy or daddy know that they are not alone and unfortunately this is something that a lot of other parents experience, and it breaks my heart to think that there might be someone else out there feeling the way we do. I would never wish this upon anyone.

“You were only here for a moment, but you will hold our hearts forever. We will always love you Lachlan, our little angel baby.”

The joys of sharehousing part 2!

So, part 2!

I am living in an old Qld’er style house with V,C & L. I paid $60 per week for my room and I was paid $252.60 per week. It was tough!

So L’s ex bf had tried to break into the house and we had called the police and then my clothes were stolen off the line. All fun and games at this point!

I should add that our landlords were an elderly couple who lived next door to us. Mrs Landlord used to let herself into the house and make herself a cup of tea! WTF? We soon put a stop to that one! Mr & Mrs Landlords son lived in a house behind us with his family. They were all nice enough. We were 4 people in a 4 bedroom old Queenslander style home. The bedrooms in some of these homes are enormous, so we weren’t too crowded as our rooms were our havens.

So one night, Mr & Mrs Landlords grandson was driving past the house and noticed smoke coming from under the house. Old QLD’ers are raised on stumps, so under the house is the laundry and garage and there was some other junk under there too, including old horse hair matresses. V and I were sitting on the back steps smoking and V had flicked her cigarette butt under the house. It was left smouldering, we didn’t know and went to bed and a few hours later we were woken by fire engines and the house was full of black smoke. If it wasn’t for grandson coming home when he did we could have died! I had a pet rat at this point, she was white and her name was Rosie, poor little thing was coughing a bit for days. As I didn’t have my licence at this point, I had to ring DH at some ridiculous hour and he picked me up and took me to my parents place for a couple of days. I was really shaken by this incident and the smell of smoke was awful. I am now totally paranoid about smoke alarms. I check ours all the time.

We lived in a very old area and some of the people in our street were from a low socio economic status. One night we were home, DH was over as he usually was at this point and we heard someone screaming! We were too afraid to go outside so we just called the police. The next thing we know the police have turned up to this house across the road and we heard people getting into cars and speeding off. They had left the house wide open and the police came to speak to us as we were the ones who made the call. It turn out they were running a bit of a drug operation in there. The police knew them from previous offences and domestic violence claims. Charming!

So now we move onto another topic, ghosts. So you are either a believer or you aren’t. If you aren’t, then don’t read on because you won’t believe it, but I swear on my life that this is all true. My DH was not a believer until he started dating me and saw things for himself.

So I have always been able to sense and sometimes see ghosts. It comes from my fathers side of the family as I later found out from him and my Aunty.

Living in a very old house, there was always bound to be something. Before L moved in, I knew they were there but they never bothered me so I didn’t worry about it. But for some reason, things came to a head when L moved in. Her boyfriend (he was 16, she was 19) used to stay over. One morning we found her boyfriend at the kitchen table looking very pale. I asked him what was wrong and joked that he looked like he had seen a ghost! He looked me and said he had. I nearly fell over! L came in and explained that when she had woken up that morning, she saw a figure standing over her bed right near her face! She had woken her bf up and he had seen it too. I just said don’t worry about it, he won’t hurt you.

So L’s bf used to stay over a fair bit, after this one occurrence there was a bit of break and then it happened again! This time, L said ghost was over her bf, and looked quite menacing. Her bf was scared stiff, poor guy! It happened a few more times and then stopped for some reason. We thought maybe the ghost was curious, perhaps L was in its old room or something.

One night, I got up to get a glass of water. I went to the kitchen, came back and I saw a little girl in our hallway. She was crouching near the hall table. I froze and then ran back into the kitchen. When I finally got the courage to come back, she was gone! It really freaked me out. L had been complaining about her ghost again, so I thought that was enough and we did a bit a clearing in the house with some sage and other stuff. Needless to say I think they realised they weren’t welcome anymore and stayed hidden. thank GOD!

So L & C were the same age as me and we got along quite well. V was another story. As she was the oldest and the first in the house, she was in charge. This was fine with us. But she started to get weirder and weirder. I had some people from work over for dinner one night. I had left the dishes that night and was going to do them when I got home the next night. I had stacked them neatly and told the girls and they said fine. I found them on my bed when I got home. V had packed them all up, still dirty, and left them on my bed! WTF?

We noticed her behaviour become a little more erratic and we wondered if she was ok. One day I was putting her washing in her room. At this point, for some reason, my depression had flared up again. I have always struggled with it and I was on some medication to treat it. I noticed the drawer in her dresser was open and I saw some pills that looked like mine in there. At this point I was budgeting as much as I could but I have always been hopeless with money and I thought some of my meds were going missing. So when I saw them in her drawer I thought it was odd, so being curious I opened the drawer and found a sh*t load, and I mean HEAPS of pills there, all prescription and some of them mine! I even found my thyroid pills in there and some others I was on. This really explained her erratic behaviour. She used to claim she had men in her room and make up stories about picking up guys at the train station (charming) and bringing them home. We never saw any of them, and her stories got wilder and wilder and her behaviour weirder so seeing the pills explained a lot. After this, I told C & L and we decided to move out and get a house of our own together, without V.

So L, C & I found a lovely house in the same area and moved in.

Our landlords lived next door again but they were really nice people so it was ok.

L & I decided there were no ghosts there, so that was a real selling point! LOL!

One night we were watching an Australian movie called “He died with a falafel in his hand”. We watched it because the house down the road was famous for being in this movie. We then saw, to our delight, that in one of the scenes our house was visible! We were totally chuffed!

The house was freezing in the winter though, so so cold! The floorboards had small gaps in them and the winter wind used to come in so it got really cold. And then in summer the house was boiling hot! It was a small house, and poorly designed, but it was clean and we liked it.

L, C & I got along quite well and then I finished my traineeship with the home loan company. They only kept on a couple of girls when they finished and I was one of the ones let go. I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do really, so I thought I might try studying HR. What a stupid idea. The only thing that happened is I got a severe bout of depression as I wasn’t working and was living on youth allowance (a tiny pittance). I found some friends in area but they weren’t a very good influence and I spent my days lazing around the house and slowly going insane.

My behaviour was really bad at this point as I was in the absolute grips of depression, I had hit rock bottom. L & C asked me to move out and my relationship with my poor long suffering DH was really bad. I was so insecure and I couldn’t stand the idea of him going out and if he said he would be over at a certain time and wasn’t, then I used to go off my nut at him. Poor guy.  One day we had a fight so loud that my landlord came running over to see if he needed to call the police! It was a real low point for us. My poor DH, he has put up with so much from me and stuck by me. I can’t tell you enough, I was a total nightmare to be with and live with, so looking back I am amazed at how much DH put up with from me. He never once broke it off, he was just always there. He is a gem!

I also used to sit up and play the sims for days on end. I would seriously lose track of time and my longest ever continuous stint was 4 straight days and nights. I had totally lost the plot by this point.

Just before I moved out, I had started coming out of my deep depression cave and decided to get a job. I found one in the legal industry for a very prestigious organisation that looks after barristers (no, not barista’s, BARRISTERS, as in Barrister at Law, LOL!)

Hmmm, time for part 3 I think! Thanks for reading my ramblings so far!

The joys of sharehousing!

Before we start, some blogspeak for you! DH means Dear Husband, DS means Dear Son.

 

So, when I was 18, I decided I wanted to move out of home.

I finished school in 2001 and turned 18 that same year.

I really didn’t know what I wanted to do when I left school, so I got a traineeship with an architects office and decided to do my certificate 3 in business administration.

Basically, I got on the job experience and one day a week to go to college and the company paid for it.

The firm I worked for was awful. It was a family run business and the owner was a jackass who thought it was ok to criticise my clothes and sometimes even refused to let me go to college for my one day a week or made me feel like I shouldn’t go because if I did then I would lose my job. There was a guy who worked for them, he had worked for them for 10 years and was treated like crap. It was almost like he had “stockholme syndrome” and was afraid to leave because he thought himself so worthless that he would never get another job. While he drove around in a shitty bomb and barely made enough to support his family the owners drove Jaguars and Mercedes and had properties coming out of their ears! This guy was such a faithful employee and they took him for granted so much.

The last straw for me was when the owner hired his daughter (who was studying to be an architect) after she claimed the firm she was working for was horrible and they were sexually harrassing her (bullsh*t in my opinion!). So she came to work for Daddy and proceeded to be an absolute princess pain in the ass! She even went so far to criticise my relationship with DH and telling me I should marry rich because I was never going to get anywhere otherwise. Total cow! Her brother was just as bad, he drove a porsche at 18 and was studying medicine, so he was the “golden child” and an absolute brat! I don’t know how the hell he got into pre-med, I think daddy paid for it because he didn’t appear to have a single brain cell! The owners wife did the accounts and used to whinge about paying everyone and then would disappear off to golf for the rest of the day. Ugh, they were horrible!

I should add at this point that I come from a well off family, quite well off actually, so I don’t know who they think they were. Money doesn’t really interest me, and neither does snobbery. Its not my money, its my parents and I have never expected handouts from them, even though they could probably wipe the floor with this family who I worked for. It just irritates me so much! Grrr!

So here I was, making it on my own, on a measly $250 per week. It was a real struggle sometimes! But again, I never expected mummy and daddy to bail me out because I was raised with a good work ethic and to be independent. At 14 my mum took me up to the local shopping centre, dropped me off and I got my first after school job at Rockmans. If I wanted to go out I could with my own money. Then I tried a hairdressing apprenticeship, that was a disaster! Another family run business and they too were awful! They were just using me until another girl came back from maternity leave so I filled in the gap and then they sacked me when she returned. Keep in mind that I had left school to do this job as it was something I really wanted to do. They then tried to get out of paying me what they owed me, but my step-dad stepped in and they had to pay me. It was awful. I then went back to school and got my job at KFC where I met DH.

Anyway, back to sharehousing! So while I was working at this architectural firm, I moved out of home. I rented a room in the southern suburbs of Brisbane ( a really old area) and I found a room to rent for $60 per week.

The girl I was sharing with was 29, from NZ and was a bit weird, but that comes later. So I moved in, DH had heaps of stuff in storage at this point as he had moved back home, so we went and raided his storage unit and he gave me some furniture, bless him! So I was living with V and then C moved in, she was a student, same age as me and from a rural area so she had moved to brisbane to do her degree in science (she was scary smart, but no common sense! LOL!). So I was living with V & C thus far. Then D moved in, he was so weird and was NEVER there, so his room often sat empty with all his stuff in it. I think he might have been on drugs looking back, his behaviour was always strange and erratic. So V, C, sometimes D & me were all sharing a house. It was a lovely house, but quite old and needed a little TLC.

At this stage, I had left the architects and found a great company to work for, it was a home loan company and they hired trainees to do all their grunt work. It was an interesting job, another family run business but these guys were professional and it was a great company to work for. I finished my traineeship with them.

So I am going to tell a few stories about this house I was living in with V, C & D. While I was working at the home loan company I became friends with the other girls in the office. This one girl, E, had moved down from nth qld and moved in with her twat of a boyfriend who was an absolute pig! So she was in a bit trouble, didn’t know anyone and I offered to help her out. As D was never there and we hadn’t seen him or heard from him for 4 weeks, the other girls in the house and I decided to let E stay with us for a few weeks until she could get back on her feet. She was there for about a week, sleeping in D’s room, none of her stuff was in there it was in my room. D came home one day, went off his nut to find her in his room and promptly moved out. No big loss really. So after that E moved somewhere else and a friend of C’s moved in, lets call her L.

So at this point it was me, V, C & L. L was studying music and she was 19, she had a 16yr old boyfriend (eeew!). She was a bit of strange one too. Unbeknownst to us, she had a crazy stalker ex-boyfriend. She had to move and change her phone numberes so he didn’t find her. She never told us this. One night she was lying in bed in her room. The bed was under the window. I was in the shower and the next thing I know L has burst in screaming hysterically! So I jumped out, wrapped a towel around me and tried to get her to tell me what was wrong. She was lying in bed and a hand had come through the window above her face! She thought it was her ex. We had to call the police and she told them the story. We were horrified, concerned for us and her! So the police searched the house and then told us to call them if he came back. He came back twice that night. We called the police both times, but the second time he came back we didn’t know that the police were hiding in the garden, so the sniffer dogs almost got him! But as we were living next door to a park he managed to get away. The police eventually found him and he never bothered us again. Phew!

We also lived a few doors down from a catholic all girls school. They used to cut through the park and the tennis courts next door. One day the little bitches stole all my washing off the line. I had washed all my work clothes and hung them out and when I went to get them they were gone! All my good clothes! I had nothing to wear to work! Luckily my mum bailed me out that time and got me some new clothes. I was so devastated. I had worked so hard to pay for those clothes and those little bitches stole them! I had no money and could not afford to replace them! Me & C marched up to the school and told them what happened. but of course we couldn’t prove it. Damn it!

Ok, going to put this in two parts, this is part 1. To be continued…….

Hello world!

Hi there!

Some of my friends decided I should start a blog, so here I am!

A little bit about me:

I am 28 years old, I have been married to my wonderful DH for 4 years. We have two sons, eldest DS (hereafter known as KJ) is almost 2. He is a my cheeky little monkey and keeps me on my toes. Our youngest DS is Lachlan, he is our angel, born sleeping on 27th September 2011. This blog is named in his memory. We also have a dog, Sammy, that we rescued when we were in Dubai and we bought him home with us to Australia. I also have a 16yr old sister and a 14 yr old brother. They live with my mum and step-dad just down the road from us. DH currently works in the mines in Central QLD, so he is away for 10days, and home for 4. We chose to live near my family so they can help out when he is away. Its a great arrangement and it means I can be a stay at home mummy to our DS because we can afford for me not to work.

My husband and I have only been home for a year, before that we were in the United Arab Emirates for 3 years and our eldest KJ was born in Dubai.

This blog is going to be about our life, from when I met my DH to when we moved overseas (and all our fun antics!) and currently our journey into grief and living with stillbirth. I want to touch on the taboos of stillbirth in society and help create awareness.

IN THE BEGINNING:

I was just 16 yrs old when I first set eyes on my future husband. I had an after school job at KFC and he was one of our “spare” managers who used to go around and fill in at stores if a manager was sick or on holidays.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him. I was working at a store in a foodcourt so it was always busy. I had just arrived for my shift and there he was, sitting just inside the door on an upturned milk crate. I took one look at him and asked a fellow staff member “who is THAT??”, they replied he was filling in for our manager who was ill.

So there he was, my future DH! LOL!

I soon found out he had been stationed as a permanent manager at a nearby store and that store was looking for some staff members. I requested a transfer immediately.

My request was soon granted and I found myself working alongside this guy that I had a massive crush on!

Its a bit naughty of me really, I had a boyfriend at the time, who I adored and had been with since I was 14, but I just thought it was a harmless little crush, so I proceeded to annoy the living crap out of my future DH and we had a great laugh! I used to follow him around the store, he had a pair of pants with a little hole in them, and he used to wear coloured underwear and you could always see what colour he was wearing from this small hole, so I used to run around the store singing “……  has got (insert colour) undies on” over and over again. He just saw me as an annoying little sisterish person. His sister happens to be the same age as me.

Fast forward a bit and I was 17, my bf and I were on the rocks as we had outgrown each other and wanted different things in our lives. I just couldn’t see a future with him anymore. He was very possessive and we had an unhealthy, intense relationship from such a young age. We had been together for 3 years by this point and I just wanted my freedom. So we were in a very bad place in our relationship and it was almost over by this point.

I was invited to a party at my future DH’s bachelor pad as the store we worked in was closing down. It was my first big adult party, after a lot a cajoling my mother decided to let me go. I was one of the youngest people there and we were all drinking and having a great time. I was looking seriously hot that night (even if I do say so myself! LOL!) and I saw for the first time that  my future DH finally saw me as a hot chiki, not just an annoying little teenager. It was a great feeling to see that appreciation in his eyes.

So with a little help from my friend Jack Daniels, I finally plucked up the courage to get him on his own and we kissed! We ended up making out for most of the night. That was the beginning of our relationship and we have been together ever since. I finished with my bf and that was the end of that and the beginning of something really special with DH.

We had our very first date just after the party, he took me up to Mt Cootha and we sat and looked out over the shining lights of Brisbane over a coffee. It was very romantic.

Not long after that, I finished school, DH accompanied me to my school formal. I turned 18 and decided to move out of home. Just as I was moving out, DH was moving back to his parents place as he had decided to start his uni degree. He was 23 at the time (there are 6 yrs between us) and it was a huge life change for both of us. So I started living in sharehouses and began my Traineeship doing a Cert 3 in Business Administration. DH started a cadetship in his chosen field and started his uni degree. I will always be so proud of him for that, he had to move home and start again and he worked his guts out to finish his degree.

I moved from place to place around Brisbane for a couple of years renting rooms here and there. It wasn’t easy, I was on minimum wages and it was really tough sometimes. You meet some very interesting people when you share a house together, my next blog will be some stories on share housing!

Thanks for reading my first ever blog!