Blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water……

So, in case you couldn’t tell, my father is NOT in my good books.

Unfortunately, this time, I am not sure if he ever will be again.

My father and I have always had an extremely tumultuous relationship. When my parents got divorced (I was 9), he always put me in the middle and used me to get to my mother. This isn’t something that I have imagined, although he certainly tries to tell me this when I bring it up. It is what happened. I wish he would take responsibility for his actions of the past, but I have accepted that this is never going to happen. I have also accepted that he does not know how to be a parent and we have never had a typical parent/child relationship. He has always leaned on me and dumped his problems on me for as long as I can remember. I was forced to grow up very quickly when my parents divorced, as I was all my dad ever had, his only daughter. I felt that I had to be there for him, because he had no one else. At 28 years old, I resent my childhood that I missed out on and I have finally realised that I am not responsible for him anymore and his problems are his own, not mine to bear.

I will start this post however, from last years Easter, as this is where our latest saga begins.

Father has always lived in a different state to me since Mother & Father’s divorce.

Last Easter, Father & Step-Mother came to stay. Before they came however, I must clarify that they had been having severe marital issues for several years, and Step-Mother had finally left him. It was not long before Easter that they got back together. After months of listening to him whinge and whine and bitch and lean on me after the breakup, I was actually appalled at the speedy reunion and I knew it wouldn’t last.

So they arrived at our house, full of sickening PDA’s and marital advice. I sorely resented this, it was not long before this that I had to listen to Father moaning about all of these certain issues in their relationship and suddenly they arrive at my home and I can see no sign that any of these issues had been resolved. My husband and I were going through a difficult patch, which was none of their business, and they felt that they could stick their big fat noses into our business and dish out relationship advice? With good cause, this royally pissed me OFF!!

I was also newly pregnant with Lachlan, extremely unwell and really did not have the patience nor inclination to deal with their baggage in my home. So I cracked the shits. I was rude, I had a bad attitude and they ended up leaving our home at 3am to drive back to where they came from.

After this, we did not speak until about three weeks before DH & I lost Lachlan. In between though, Father & Step-Mother split up and got back together again a couple of times. My Step-Mother appalled me by sending me messages on Facebook about what had happened. I was so angry that instead of talking to us about it, my Father had run away (again) and now I was getting FACEBOOK messages from her? I thought this was absolutely and horribly rude and impersonal, so I blocked her from my facebook. Not only was it none of her business as she and my Father were not together anymore, but she continued to dish out marital advice and I have only found out recently (probably because hubby was worried that I would kill her!) that she even went so far as to message my mother in law on facebook to tell my MIL of her concerns about our marriage. I am FUCKING LIVID about this (excuse my french). I will never speak to that woman again as long as I live, for the reasons I have just outlined as well as others regarding her personal beliefs that I do not agree with.

Anyway, moving on. They came back here for Lachlan’s funeral. I had mixed feelings about this, as I had not really had much to do with them during my pregnancy and I was still mad. I was also dealing with all of these feelings regarding our son’s death and it really wasn’t a good mix. I was resentful of the fact that they dared to call themselves Grandparents when they really hadn’t bothered to have a relationship with my oldest son and certainly never had anything to do with Lachlan or my pregnancy. Yet, they arrived and I was so worried about hurting their feelings that, as usual, I went against my own feelings and involved them in the service as Grandparents. I will always regret this.

We ended up going to stay with them for a few days at my husbands insistence. He was so desperate to get me out of the house and try to fix me, as men do, bless. Father & Step-Mother had decided to get back together (again) and we had to sit there and listen to all their plans (again) and I was in such a mess and so numb that I just didn’t care anymore. I had lost my son, I really didn’t give a shit what they decided to do, even though they seemed to think I did. Then, my Father decided to get roaring drunk, I think his guilt at not being there for me finally got to him, and I (the grieving mother) ended up driving him to the hospital at 3am as he was dangerously drunk and we were extremely concerned for his well-being. I was over the limit myself and risked my license to get him to the hospital. As usual, my father turned things back onto himself and it was all about him. It’s just another a shining example to me of his absolute selfishness. It was the last thing I needed to be dealing with, my son had just died! Sort your own shit out Father! I so should have told him that at the time. I needed my Father, and again I ended up being the one there for him. It was a pattern that has been prevalent for most of my life.

Anyway, I forgave him, as usual. I didn’t bother confronting him about it, I couldn’t be bothered. He constantly deflects his bad behaviour and always blames others, there was really no point.

Last December came and DH’s company decided to fly the three of us over interstate for his company Christmas party. My Father lives in the same state so we told him we were coming. This trip was the final straw for hubby with regards to Father. We spent the entire trip doing only things that Father wanted to do, including a whole 6 hours in the car with our poor toddler who, by the end of the day in the car, was completely fed up! I was still exhausted, anyone who has gone through the grief process can understand that after you lose a child, you become weak and easily exhausted. You can just imagine what 6 hours in the car did to me! We had specific things that we wanted to do and advised Father of this and not once did he bother to take us where we actually wanted to go! DH & I were appalled at his selfishness and total disregard for our poor son and ourselves. He dragged us all over the place. DH got fed up and stayed in our hotel room with our toddler the next day. I stupidly went with Father the next day, not wanting to hurt his feelings (again) and was again dragged all over the place. I was exhausted and my temper was short again by the end of the day. We finally left and came home and I was so relieved, it was an exhausting and unpleasant trip, far too soon after Lachlan had died and far too close to his due date which was looming ahead of us.

Finally, we come to this Easter that we are currently celebrating. Father was arriving Thursday morning. I was already annoyed with him as his flight arrived at 5am and he expected me to get my poor toddler out of bed and go and pick him up from the airport. I was extremely annoyed at this expectation and appalled that he just expected it! There was no offer of him getting a cab, I was to pick him up. This was the first of many things to piss me off.

As usual, I swallowed my feelings and just got on with it. It was only the night before that I had discovered I had miscarried my most recent pregnancy. I was tired, emotional, hormonal, had crazy blood sugars and was still coming to terms with our latest loss. Of course, my selfish Father had absolutely no inclination to even try to understand, he just ignored me and carried on. My ex-step mother was supposed to be coming on Sunday night to spend the night and they were to fly back to where Father comes from together Monday morning. I received an email from her advising she would be arriving Saturday and staying for two nights instead. I was extremely annoyed that she didn’t even ask if this was ok and I didn’t think it was too much to ask that we spend Easter morning together as a family and then she arrived Sunday night. I phoned Father before he arrived to tell him I was displeased with this arrangement and can we please stick to the original plan of her only being here for a night. He agreed.

So he arrived Thursday morning, already having annoyed me greatly before he even got here and I dragged my poor toddler out of bed to pick up his Grandfather who he really doesn’t know because he has only seen him twice before in his life.

We came home and the toddler and I had a sleep before we woke up and had to go up to the shops. My best friend had asked if we could meet her for lunch as she knew I wasn’t coping with the night before. She was the amazing soul who had picked up the pieces and put me to bed that night after I lost my pickle. So she wanted to keep a close eye on me with hubby away and Father being here. As you know, the last two weeks have been extremely awful for me with regards to my health and my miscarried pregnancy. I had some medical things to claim and I was stressing about the expenses we had outlayed over the past two weeks. I was also devastated by our latest loss and proceeded to break down in Medicare and sob when I was claiming my things. I was extremely distressed and embarrassed by this and I came out to see Father & the toddler and I was clearly distressed. Father couldn’t even bring himself to simply put his arm around me and comfort me. Instead he proceeded to tell me to sit down and let me sob before picking an argument with me about why I was upset. I was horrified, but far too weak to tell him to get stuffed, so I carried on.

Friday was an ok day, certainly better than Thursday, but we proceeded to rub each other the wrong way all day as I was rather resentful of Father by this stage. Finally it came to Friday night and it was time to collect husband, thank god! Husband came home, he had a shitty week as well, as was less than supportive when he arrived. Saturday morning came and I was rather pissed off with hubby. We had a fight that morning and so I was really shitty with him for most of the morning. We decided to go into the city before taking the toddler over to our in-laws for a family easter get together. Father wanted to go into the city to have a look around and to get a present for his new girlfriend. Hubby & I agreed and we decided to go as it was on our way to his parents home.

When we arrived in the city, Father was extremely quiet and unbeknownst to me, he had said something to my husband which had upset hubby. He asked hubby what my problem was and why I was so angry and hubby came to my defense, of course, and told him to go easy on me as I had been through a rough few days. Father responded with “well she doesn’t have to take it out on us”. Not that it was any of Father’s business, but I was cross with my husband and it was between hubby & I! Again, another example of him only caring about himself, and no regards for me or what I was going through. This royally pissed me off and I spent another hour crying silently before I phoned my mother to come and get me as I had enough at this stage. I was tired, a virus I have been fighting for the last three weeks was rearing its head again, I was emotional and I was a wreck. I just wanted my mummy. So I left them in the city and I went to my mums house.

Hubby came to get me later from my mothers and proceeded to tell me all of the awful things my Father had said to him for the rest of the day. The thing that annoyed me the most was he honestly expected hubby not to tell me. Sorry Father, but although hubby and I had a fight that morning, we have a rock solid marriage and we tell each other everything! We are a team.

He told me that Father had complained bitterly to him about my attitude, that I have a bad attitude. He told hubby that our house is filthy (which it is NOT!) and that I do nothing all day. Lets just keep in mind that not only is this a LIE but I had just had a miscarriage and sorry if I didn’t feel that inclined to do any housework! Fuck you Father! Anyway, he also told hubby that hubby shouldn’t be expected to do housework, he should just come home and put his feet up. Sorry Father, again, hubby and I are a team and he helps me around the house, because that is the kind of man I married.

He basically told hubby that he doesn’t know why hubby puts up with me and that if things get rough, hubby can always leave. That attitude of his probably explains why he now has two failed marriages under his belt. He was an absolute bastard, hubby was appalled. I was horrified with the things he said, there was more but that was the gist of it.

Father, your complete lack of compassion and empathy towards me for your entire visit was what led to me asking hubby to go home and remove you from my home. I know that you told hubby that I “probably won’t speak to you for another decade” and unfortunately this is true. Except it won’t be for 10 years, you are no longer welcome in my life and certainly no longer welcome to call yourself a Grandfather to my son. The sad thing is, you will never understand that it is your actions and behaviour that have led to this consequence. Instead, I know you too well, and you will go home and bitch to your new girlfriend and sob on her shoulder about what a bitch I am and poor you I have cut you out of my life again. I wish I could make you understand how appalling your behaviour is, but I know I will be beating my head against a brick wall. You will never change, I don’t know why I fooled myself into thinking you would. You will always put yourself before me and cast judgements on things you know nothing about. I am sorely disappointed that you are my Father, I wish I had been born to another Father, a Father who always thought of me first and who was always there for me. Instead, I am lucky enough to have a Step-father who gladly filled this role. He may have his faults and drive me crazy sometimes, but he has always been there for me. Blood is not thicker than water, he is not my blood and yet he still calls me his own.

So, sadly this Easter, not only have I lost another pregnancy, but to add to my compounded grief, I have also lost my Father.

I hope one day he realises what he has lost and what he has done. But I know in my heart that is wishful thinking on my part.

Blood is not thicker than water.

Fly free my little Pickle :(

One in 4 women will experience the heartache of miscarriage or infant loss. That is a sobering statistic.

I have had a hell of a rollercoaster ride over the past couple of weeks.

It all started when my period didn’t arrive when it usually would have….

I was due on the 18th of March and………nothing!

I was so excited, I dared to hope and dream that the last 4 months of trying had not been in vain and we had finally conceived!

I went to my doctor for a blood test because nothing was showing up on my pregnancy tests at home.

Come monday afternoon and I was absolutely shattered when my doctor phoned to say that the result had come in negative.

Come Tuesday and still nothing, I was daring to hope again. So I did some research about how long it can take for an egg to be fertilised after ovulation and how long it could take to travel and also discovered that if your HCG level comes in under 5, it is considered a negative blood test. Perhaps it was just too early to tell?

I went and bought a very early pregnancy test that can detect small amounts of HCG, and there it was! A positive line! It was what I had been waiting for.

I skipped into the doctors office on Wednesday and showed her my new hobby, peeing on sticks! She was so happy for me and said that she was absolutely gutted to have to tell me on monday that my test was negative.

We ordered another blood test and I went home to pee on some more sticks and it was official! I was pregnant!

I was so happy, for the first time since I lost Lachlan, I was truly happy and I dared to hope that we were finally getting our rainbow.

I made an appointment to see my endocronologist straight away and miraculously she was available first thing the following week.

It was really lucky that I got an appointment with her in the first place as she was in high demand and it was even luckier as it was discovered my little Pickle had already given me gestational diabetes this early on. I was put on insulin and began the tedious process of monitoring and recording my blood sugar levels 4 times a day and giving myself insulin injections each night. At this point in time I would have happily pulled my own fingernails out each night if it meant we were having a baby!

I was elated to finally call my lovely OB/GYN and tell him the wonderful news. He was so happy for us and made an appointment for me to come in and have a chat about our approach to this pregnancy and to have a little peek at our little Pickle.

I already loved my Pickle, I sang to Pickle, played music to my Pickle and talked to my Pickle every day. I asked Pickle to hang in there and please please don’t give up.

I went in to my appointment with trepidation. I just felt so nervous and all week I had been having nightmares about my OB telling me that there was nothing there and I was making it all up or telling me that there was no heartbeat or something. I shrugged it off, figuring that if Pickle had already given me Gestational Diabetes then it must have had a strong toehold.

I took my mum & my bestie to the appointment as my hubby was away again. My bestie waited outside while mum & I went in to see our little Pickle for the first time.

Then the devastating news, Pickle wasn’t growing the way it should have been and it was possible that perhaps it wasn’t a viable pregnancy. I was to wait until Saturday and come back for another scan.

I was really upset at first, but I still couldn’t bring myself to give up on my Pickle. I went home and just prayed that everything would be ok and we would get there on Saturday and Pickle would have grown and it would be ok. My OB gently told me that there was a chance it could be ok, as I hadn’t had any bleeding so far and there was no sign of an eptopic pregnancy, so he was cautiously optimistic for my sake.

Then I got home yesterday afternoon after picking my toddler up from daycare and I realised that I was losing my little Pickle. I was bleeding and it was heavy and bright red. My little Pickle had decided to go and join its brother in Heaven. I was so upset, and at first I thought my symptoms of shaking and feeling really off were from being in shock, then I realised that I was actually going into hypoglycemia and my sugar levels were really low. That was when it hit me that there was no hope left and Pickle was absolutely leaving me.

I am absolutely shattered. Its been such a rollercoaster ride from day one and I am emotionally spent and completely heartbroken.

My Pickle finally passed this morning, I could see that it had left me and I also felt it in my heart. Its a hard feeling to explain, just emptiness.

For now, I just feel like I have taken about 50 steps backwards and I am in that place that I really didn’t want to go back to. All those months of heartbreak and grief and trying to conceive and then to be given this little beacon of hope that was so cruelly snatched from us again, just as Lachlan was 6 months ago.

Life is just so cruel, I just don’t understand it.

Fly free my little Pickle, though your time with me was far too brief, I loved you from the minute I knew you were there and I will always love you. You were so loved and wanted. Someday we shall all meet again, but for now, I hope your big brother is looking after you in Heaven. Love always, Mummy xxoo