Blogging Old Style Since 2011 ©valeriehannan
Despite all the illness and sadness around here lately, there have been some small and almost overlooked things which have made me happy, and if the little things can make me smile, I count myself very lucky.
The Lilac Bush In The Garden
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A Mascara (which even makes my puffy eyes look better)
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A Vintage Duvet Set (thrifted for Oscar)
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A New Lamp Shade (for my studio space)
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Ellie's Garden
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My New Cook Book
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Kitchen Window Crops
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Valerie
xxx
It was a funny old birthday for Duncan yesterday, and at some point in the future I will give him a 36th birthday over again. I am fairly tearful right now (hormone crash?), and I am afraid it got the better of me a few times over the day.
Still, I managed cake.
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Oscar has been poorly though, which I suspect is down to sharing the germ love during his first week at nursery. He has been running a temp since Saturday evening and over the course of the day yesterday he was overcome with snot. He had a go at the cake, but in the end he only really ate the frosting.
For better or worse I decided to go to my life drawing class last night. I have had a huge urge to draw and paint these last couple of weeks. I expect it is a way to get my feelings out without an explosion (depending on the painting of course).
I was fairly nervous having missed so many weeks, and I was even more nervous that someone would ask if I had been ill. I was just 4 or 5 weeks pregnant the last time I took the class. No one asked though, although I think that was out of politeness because the nice old ladies there do like to gossip.
The drawing was good, although the drawings themselves were rough. I really enjoyed thinking about drawing instead of the endless ticker-tape of grief. There are only 2 classes left until the summer break, which is a real shame. I am in the process of making a studio space for myself though, because I am determined to make time in my life for my passions.
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Valerie
xxx
Birthday To You
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday
Darling Duncan
Happy Birthday To You
Love You So Much
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Val
xxx
People are always saying how chilled out Duncan and I are. I suppose it is relative. Since Oscar came along I have noticed that Duncan tends to be more prone to freak-outs, or rather, over-reactions. He is a loving father who leaps off the chair at the first sign of a fall or a scrape. I am a bit more laid back about it, possibly having been through hundreds of scrapes with the older 2 children (Duncan and I moved in together when the older 2 were 8 and 10).
Since the baby died I wonder if people even see any duality in me (Duncan does of course because we discuss it). Part of me is saying, 'come on girl, pull your socks up, make a million plans and keep busy'. And at the same time I want to lie in bed all day in a tear stained nightgown (dramatic much?).
I have been pushed out of the house amongst strangers this past week because Oscar has started nursery (and somehow found myself in a staff / parent meeting to discuss the upcoming events, Diamond Jubilee, End of Year parade with floats and Olympic themed sports day). Part of me wanted to hide in my coat and not be spoken to or noticed at all. Another part of me wanted to stand on my chair and shout, 'my baby died 3 weeks ago you know'. I didnt do either, I nodded and smiled and said yes in the vote for crown making kits as opposed to chocolate gifts.
I expect if we could see inside other people's heads it would be a truly terrifying experience.
Still, nursery is going well.
Valerie
xxx
One week, 7 days and 7 nights. It seems like this last week has gone past in a blur, and yet at the same time, it seems I have been in this non-pregnant-no-baby limbo for ever. It is difficult to remember not to rub my empty tummy, especially when I am having morning sickness.
The sickness must be on the wain though, because I am having coffee for breakfast this morning. I don't even like coffee really, but I expect to a hardened coffee drinker, my 3/4 (soya) milk hazelnut infused scant spoonful of instant 'coffee' does not really count as coffee at all.
I woke at 6.45am today, which perhaps is giving the wrong impression that I had slept all night, which I didn't. I could hear Duncan moving around downstairs, I could smell his (real) coffee brewing, and I heard the door closing gently as he left for work. He leaves for work at 7am so he can get out of the office at 4pm. Its for my benefit, so I don't need to do dinner and bath and grumpy time alone with Oscar.
Oscar was in bed with me, like he normally is. His head was squashed in to my arm and I could hear his snuffly breathing. I like it. I like that I can smell his hair and kiss his head without him running away. We got to the 'stop kissing me Mama', stage so fast. When he is tired these days he rolls around with his, frankly, disgusting sookie blanket, making whimpering puppy noises (he told me himself it was puppy noises). But I dare-nt kiss him, he scrambles away. A kiss goodnight and a kiss goodbye and a kiss when he is hurt is about my limit. Are girls more affectionate? Had my little baby lived, would she have tolerated being over-kissed at 3 years old, or 4 years old or 14 years old? I think my older daughter liked to be kissed more than my boys, but its funny how much you forget.
A strange thought occurred to me before Ellie was . . . . . and that's another thing. What is the end of that sentence? Was she born? To call her miscarried seems cruel, but she wasn't a stillbirth either. The days of a nurse running off with a bedpan before the parents look in it (and never to speak of it) are long gone . The hospital cremate all the little babies, so doesn't it seem wrong to say, 'yeah we cremated our miscarriage' I think we need another word. A word that respects what was once life, even for a few small weeks. A word that lies someplace in between miscarried and stillborn. What could that word be? I am not trying to say my baby was born at an age where she had any chance of survival outside her Mama, but also, she was born.
Anyway, the thought before Ellie, was 'delivered'. If she came at home, which we were warned she might (after the first set of drugs). This might be my only chance at having a home birth, because my previous history made it unsafe for me to have a healthy baby at home, but it was ok to deliver a tiny dead one. I am not quite sure what to think of that.
So, we are 1 week on, 7 days and 7 nights. If something huge and catastrophic happens to a person, they often wonder how on earth they can still be standing afterwards. I feel like that. I think that I will fall down at any moment, but for now at least I am standing. I cant speak for tomorrow or the day after.
I cry in the shower so I don't scare anyone, its the British way, to hide it don't you know. Its a terrible way to be. Except for maybe my little son, he does'nt deserve to be scared of his mama.
Written on Friday 04th May 2012 (I need to give myself some time in between writing and posting these days, I don't want to regret anything afterwards).
Valerie
xxx
Oscar has finally started nursery school. It was much scarier for me than it was for him, that's for sure.
Oscar at the bus stop, out before 9am - unheard of
Mummy at the bus stop - nervous much?
The nursery is in the University District - its a nice place to walk in the mornings
snack - he chose the pink plate himself
Outside play - in case you can see him, Oscar is dangling on the slide.
I only left him for 15 minutes today, and I stayed the rest of the time. He said 'why did you take so long Mummy'. I leave him for the session tomorrow. Double yikees.
Valerie
xxx
