Summer of Love

This summer project has been really good for me. On most days, I can take stock of the bad and replace it with a whole bunch of good. Yesterday I couldn't. I couldn't cope with Ivy pooing in her pants one more moment. I couldn't cope with the messy house. The washing. Putting the grocery shopping away. The children under my feet. I wanted to escape.

While I was out and about doing a bit of shopping I bought myself a new CD. It's been a long time since I bought a CD without listening to it first, but this particular group I'd heard of 3 years ago (actually I read about them for the first time in Rolling Stone magazine May 2008, just after giving birth to Ivy) and yesterday someone posted a link on Facebook that reminded me of them. So I went and bought their CD, without hearing it, without knowing what it sounded like, but knowing for certain that I would love it.

And I did.

I listened to it in the car on the way home, and was singing away fairly quickly. Then I put it away when I got home and forgot about it while I did my usual thing at home. And then things started getting on top of me again, and by the time Matt got home from work I was seriously ready to admit myself into some kind of home for the mentally unstable. And he saw my CD, and asked me to put it on. Then we ate dinner outside in the amazing night air (the mozzies feasted too) while listening to the gorgeous sounds of Zooey singing her little heart out. And  it made everything ok again.

So, 10 days in to my photo-a-day and I actually kinda forgot to take one. But that's ok. It's not a drama. We'll just roll with it.

I had a young chap at work say a profound and resonating thing to me, and I'm sure he didn't even realise how special his words were.

He finished work at 10pm and said he needed to catch a bus home. I asked him what time the bus was, and he said he wasn't sure, so I suggested maybe taking off a few mins early as it was quiet. And he said to me "it doesn't matter if I miss the bus. There'll always be another one."

In our rush rush lives, where we are always on a schedule and have routines and to-do lists and appointments, do we ever really slow down? Take the long way home for a change. Take the 2nd bus so you can just sit still at the bus stop for an extra few minutes. Catch your breath. Watch the world pass you by, just for a moment. There'll always be another bus.

You know how when you have kids/dogs/bikes/responsibilities and you go away somewhere it always seems really hard work? For us, even a day trip involves a packed car.

Today and tomorrow marks a couple of days of mourning for me. I don't make a fuss anymore. I just light my candle and go about my day. But 4 years ago today we found out during our 13 week ultrasound that we had lost our much loved and wanted baby. It was the very worst day of my life and marked the beginning of a very dark and very sad period of my life. I won't go into too much detail about that day 4 years ago, as it hurts a lot to drag up the memories. But the months that followed were very tough. We suffered another (earlier) miscarriage and we very nearly lost another baby. But we didn't lose that one, and that pregnancy went without a hitch to bless us with our darling Ivy.

Her pregnancy was blissfully uneventful after the 8 week mark when we thought we'd lost her. I was happy as a clam. I found out I was having a daughter and wept tears of such pure joy that I thought I might just burst. It was like a complete yin and yang. I felt so terribly guilty for being happy to have her growing away in my belly when my other "daughter" did not (we don't know the lost baby's gender, but I always refer to her as a girl). When she was born healthy I felt a massive wave of relief and gratitude. Without the losses we'd suffered she would not be with us.

But during the 2.5 years that followed I sunk into a deep depression. One that was all encompassing of many of the hurts I'd suffered, including our miscarriage. I forgot to love my kids, but especially Ivy. She was a somewhat difficult baby, a bad sleeper and a loud cryer. I forgot that I fought so hard to have her. Forgot that she WAS my blessing.

Ivy is the reason and the blessing. Sometimes I just need a reminder. Today is a reminder.

Lover.