Thank you.

To the gentleman who entered my life and changed me irrevocably, thank you.

You have no idea how profoundly you changed me. The difference you made. And all it took was for you to be the first person to know me & see me & appreciate me unconditionally. Understand me. And show me - in a world where I was being told I wasn't good enough, I was too much of this, too little of that - that I was good enough, worthy, valuable, good even.

Ok it helps a lot that we are so very alike, a mirror of each other, so many sentences ending in "me too". Same taste, same manners, same decorum, gentle behaviours. Think so much alike its uncanny. We could almost be related.

Because of this; because of you, I am permanently changed for the better. Its a bitter pill that in doing so I lost my old life - but it wasn't serving me well.

All of this with nothing more than your friendship.


I doubt I could ever repay the favour.


But if I could, I would turn your world around, I would tell you;

That you have the most beautiful heart of anyone I know, you want to love and you want to be loved - you have so much love to give. I know, I see you. Yet you have walls up around your heart and that can only be because you feel you have to, and that kills me.

You ask me, why does she not appreciate you? I wish I had said that I don't think it is anything to do with you. I think it's to do with her - she doesn't do anything to be proud of. She isn't proud of herself. She doesn't value herself. Oh sure, she thinks she is better than everyone she encounters - but thats because of the house of cards she lives in - not anything she actually achieves herself. And I know you love her all the same.

You ask me, why does she not appreciate you? I wish I had said she wants something else, always did, she has an ideal that you aren't meeting, can't meet - not because you're wrong, or she's wrong, just because you're so fundamentally different. She wants man X and you are man Y. A great man, certainly, skilled at many fabulous things, generous with your love - but not the things that she wants, values. And I know you love her all the same.

You ask me, why does she not appreciate you? I wish I had said you've made mistakes, you're human - we all have. She can't forgive you. She can't forget. But she can't release you either. You've been held prisoner for these errors, what 15 - 20 years now? You don't deserve to pay for this by having love withheld forevermore - you have this life to live. But you will be. And I know you love her all the same.

You ask me, why does she not appreciate you? I wish I had said she has to turn away from you, it's impossible for her to see value in someone who sees value in her - when she knows she isn't doing her best. Isn't doing herself proud. There must be something wrong with you. She can't let anyone else like you either. Has to see only the bad in you, it justifies her position. Her entire life is based on "I must, because he isn't or doesn't or won't". Even if she acknowledged your good she can't change this position for to do the opposite would be to acknowledge she is wrong, and she cannot ever do that. And I know you love her all the same.

You ask me, why does she not appreciate you? I wish I had said that I think you married someone as undemonstrative as your parents were. That you knew no better. This is the greatest shame of all for such a heart as yours. The man who gave the jumper from his back to an almost stranger when you noticed her shivering, then turned her world upside down by recognising her.


I wish for you that one day she will appreciate you, or release you. I wish for you all of the happinesses in the world, I wish for you the most passionate love I know you are capable of. I wish for you, simply the best.



Why have I not told you any of this? Because I don't think it would help you to hear it. I don't think you could do anything with it. I think it would just sadden you, remove your hope. You would resign yourself and give up trying. And I don't want that for you. So I tell you instead, the good that I can find in you and in her, the good I can find in you together. Encourage you to try.



But If I thought you would I would tell you to fly, to seek what you deserve, to seek what you are capable of, to live and be cherished and desired passionately. With her if you can, but if not then elsewhere, for I have no doubt you would really, truly live in love.

Raw, you got it

So, almost a year ago a set a goal to write that really raw post that had been burning inside of me - tomorrow my goal (hitherto hidden away) will be exposed and I'll have to answer - did I do it? So it's close to 1am, quite literally the final hour, and here it is. Because I want to have achieved that goal.

This post is about the birth of my son, Harrison, who was born still at 24 weeks gestation. The intent is to expose the reality of birthing a tiny 595gm baby - so that those who endure this as their first labour can understand that that is not normal - that is not what labour is like. Don't be afraid - well be afraid, you will be, but be assured that it doesn't have to be like this. My first labour, a huge term baby was an absolute breeze and I'm lucky I had that experience to draw on.

So, our Harry was interrupted by a clot in the placenta which failed to deliver the pregnancy hormone and the pregnancy began to miscarry. I was away on a conference at the time and ignored some of the signs but there was that deeper consciousness that something was going on. I finally listened and took myself to hospital where I was reassured that everything was fine, fine, fine, until it wasn't. An internal exam exposed that my cervix was fully dilated and the membranes bulging. 

"Your baby is coming now" What.the! We're 23 weeks, what does that mean??

I was quickly; and unceremoniously, dumped upside down to take pressure off my cervix while doctors and midwives scrambled to deliver solutions and contact my husband, a million miles away (or so it felt) in Sydney with our daughter.  

Conversations with doctors, decisions need to be made but I can't rob my husband of his right to be here for them and I can't have him driving upset so we call him to come and drive safely and wait for his arrival; my waters a time bomb the doctors imagine about to explode. 

I'm sat with a gorgeous, sweet doctor who kindly offers me the facts 23 weekers have pretty much no chance of survival. 

To have a chance he needs a ventilated bed which isn't available in Maitland where I am. We would have to go to Newcastle - but my 6 yr old is in the opposite direction. More conversation, this time over the phone, with neonatologists and the chances are grim, we make the incredibly difficult decision to forgo the ventilated bed. Basically we're saying let him go if he comes now. 

But what can we do to prevent this? Assuming cervix failure they offer a stitch and if my waters don't break we're ok - we're in it to the end. Spinal block, vomit on the anesthetist (so sorry) and the stitch is in - yay! 

Day 2 - But not yay, because my waters break. The stitch is now a magnet to every passing infection. The advice is to remove it, but I cannot fathom how to keep him in without it - some delightful midwife had warned me to take a bedpan with me when I visit the loo to catch him "because that's probably where you'll have him", oh god, what I know now.... Anyhoo. I argue on this subject and its agreed we try keeping the stitch in & watching for infection, yay?

Day 3 - looks like an infection, the Big Dipper again. Harry's still kicking like crazy but the signs are bad. A bit of consultation, no not infection, possibly... Up we go again. 

Meanwhile husband is driving up and down the coast with clothes and daughter. Can I say I consider myself infinitely lucky to have my daughter as a focus for all of my decisions - what's good for my baby in gestation (but who's already slightly compromised) then what's best for my 6 year old paramount as its her life that stands to be turned upside down.

Day 4 passes unremarked, lots of walking around the hospital, lots of reading, lots of cheering other babies successfully born - if they can have their success so can I - right?

Day 5 - and baby is nearly 24 weeks, those few days make critical difference in survival rates and also the legal ramifications of resuscitating or not. A ventilated bed with an expert neonatal team becomes available so we ship off to RNS. On arrival, they question my decision over the stitch but agree it's brave and working so far, ultrasounds, blood tests, meetings.

Chief neonatologist enters with a counsellor, "bad news Jessica" (that's my sister, how odd) "the baby has no blood flow, he's brain damaged & we suggest inducing labour now. He'll take one or two breaths then pass away". Down the rollercoaster we go; way, way down. Discussion about funerals, grief, how to tell our daughter.  

Exit that specialist, enter the professor of maternity. "Ok Bec" (right name, good start!), "brave move to date, we're gonna see this to the end, expect to be here a long time." Shocked silence. Counsellor enters - did we hear wrong, we've just been told baby isn't viable & we should give up. Counsellor agrees that's what we were told. In error, apparently. Embarrassed silence, shuffling notes. Poor Jessica. (Not my actual sister, Jessica down the hall who's had the opposite conversation & about to have her dreams shattered). Get me out of here, please. Transferred to Nepean - home at last. 

I silently agree with Harry that it's now or right to the end, the next two weeks come with scarier decisions and yucky numbers about viability.

Day 6 - morning of week 24. It's all over. The rollercoaster has come to a stop. Cord prolapse. It's not pulsing, so neither is Harry. 

Induction. I want it over, I'm done. Stitch is removed - ever noticed there's no lights in delivery room ceilings? They're coming at me with a dolphin torch - overkill - no caverns here! 

Here's the message. This labour is freaking hard - exchange your own favourite swear word there - mentally, you can imagine. But physically! My body isn't ready, hasn't had months to soften. Labour moves along but I know myself so I hurry it a little and when it's time to start delivering it's freaking hard work. He's so tiny, small and insubstantial and no gravity behind him. Every goddamn millimeter is an effort. And I feel like my cervix is being torn in two, I'm being torn in two, so much pain. I've had 8 pound babies & they are easy compared to this, big physical gravity driven bowling balls that should feel like they're breaking you. They don't, this does. So all the hard work, he's through the cervix - that's all you have to do with big babies really, the rest kind of slips out - I ask "what did I have?" The midwife gently tells me he isn't born yet - he's that small he's only through my cervix & now he's (cover your eyes) in my vagina. The feeling is still with me.

I have to do it all again. 

Holy Jesus.

And he's no longer in contact with the muscles in and around my uterus, the muscles you use to deliver. "Think lower" she says "keep pushing" what on earth does she mean I'm pushing like crazy - but I get it. I think lower. Holy Jesus.

That's pretty much it. That's enough. Most physically painful & mentally painful thing I've ever done. And if this is all you know, you have a right to expect a better labour, a veritably pain free labour by comparison, if you can work up the courage to try again. 

Infection was there too - hidden away, he was sick & perishing. But I had to try.  I'm proud of the active decisions I made. I'm proud I endured that pain, a badge of honour I can never wear. I am strong, a winner. A woman.

AHA!

I had an epiphany, a huge "Aha" moment, my god I've been an idiot! Not anymore.

A person I valued, trusted and liked, someone I thought of as close (notice the past tense) made a tiny, insidious, passing comment about a photo of me from some shenanigans last weekend.

Whats pivotal about this was she was wrong. So very blatantly wrong.

And in that one moment she opened up the great black cavern inside her and I could see very clearly that inside her was jealousy and negativity, insecurity and nastiness. Just a momentary glimpse is all it took.

She SHOULD be jealous of me, I am out there doing things, I am making progress, I am winning hearts and minds and I am making a difference. Guess what - I'm even having fun and making other gorgeous friends along the way. Meanwhile she's sitting on the lounge making herself sick with regrets and laziness and still - still - whinging about stuff that she won't bother changing. She is doing nothing appreciable at all. Not me.

Its not the first time this has happened to me, but boy was this an eye-opener. I had been trusting, valuing and appreciating this person who ( with the value of 20/20 hindsight) has been slowly undermining me.

I know why she does it, doesn't make it right.

Hope she finds her peace, it won't be at my expense any more x

You can do it, yes you can!

I will preface this post with some raw honesty. I have never, never ever, believed in myself.

Never.

I have never been one of those people who say "If I say I'm going to do it, I will",  I've never even understood those people. Or "If I want it I will have it / him / that"... frankly I find people with that level of  self belief intimidating. Impressive and intimidating and certainly not me.

More to the point I would have seriously doubted I was good enough for any thing worth being that determined about, which is crazy really, if I think about it dispassionately; I am above average intelligence, above average passion and commitment,  above average effort, my life is reasonably comfortable and privileged, I am honest and loyal and kind but be it a background of being taught to be humble and not prideful, or if it's pride itself that blocks me - I am not a major self promoter, and I struggle to believe in me.

And it is amazing how this plays out and how you can turn it around. Because I am turning it around. Maybe slowly, but I am.

Here's where it starts.

Over the last two years I have done a lot of soul searching, growing, acheiving and mostly losing weight. A lot of weight. And I can tell you how I've done it - and I have done it all by myself, so I should be proud. I can also tell you how I gained the weight, but thats less of a conversation for here and more of one over a cup of coffee. Or vodka.

I'll tell you one thing I have learnt about weight loss, every single dietition, doctor, personal trainer etc will ttell you its 80% food and 20% exercise, and they are dead right, but it's also 100% head. 100% determination and will. You have to be in the right frame of mind - I say it has to "click" - or none of it works. So that's 80% food, 20% exercise and 100% head. Remember this.

Back to the point, I have also improved my fitness out of sight, walking every day and now running. And here's where the head stuff starts.

I still have some goals to hit and walking every day, even increasing the distance and intensity are not getting me there. I would also like to be one of those people who "runs", or at least can "run".

A couple of months ago I heard about #C25K, google it, it's an exceptional program in my mind. Such a simple philosophy and it works.

So anyway, I heard about it, had friends doing it, thought I maybe, could, ought to (see that lack of self belief coming in) be able to do it if they can. I mean I've been walking 3-9 k's every day for 2 years, surely I'm ahead of the pack? So I downloaded the app for my iphone (free app - no excuses!) and I started it and failed miserably. 

The idea is it's built in stages designed to increase your capacity and literally get you from the "Couch"  to running 5 kilometres in 9 weeks (C 2 5K). Week one is a 5 minute warm up followed by intervals of running and walking, and a cool down. So, initially it's 60 second run, 60 second walk; 60 second run, 60 second walk, rinse and repeat as they say.

I could not get past 45 seconds before I am completely breathless. I came up with all manner of excuses as to why I couldnt do it - my shoes weren't great (bought new shoes, they weren't much better), I saw a physio & he checked my feet & knees (issue wasn't the shoes); he explained I am not breathing properly so now I have something to focus on - I get back out there and I still can't do it. I'm still not getting past 45 seconds, and I'm only doing this twice before I give up and walk the rest of the route.

But it's all in my head because I can do it.

I met a wonderful personal trainer, she actually has a running group who are following the C25K program - she's perfect! And she convinces me to give it another go.

Our very first outing I do the program. Thats it. Done. Week one day one accomplished. I am still keeling over at the 45 second mark but I don't give up. And I do the full set of runs, I complete the damn lot. And I'm up to 90 seconds now.

So, was it pride again - not wanting to fail in front of someone - was it the encouragement? I don't know what it was and I don't really care, the point is I could have done it myself but my head wasn't right.

It takes getting your head right. Every damn thing takes getting your head right. And if you're head is right you can do every damn thing! You can!

And now I'm charging through the program, I'm not yet running 5 k's but I will, you can bet on it.

You know what else, the days I step out of my comfort zone - nothing to do with exercise, just days I make myself do something scary, or something I have been dreading - those are the days I lose weight, lose weight and gain me. And it's a brilliant spiral! So go on, give it a shot - you can do it.

Don't all good stories start with Once Upon a Time....

Once upon a time I thought to myself - I wonder what this blogging thing is all about? So I started a blog, two fantastic posts (read that with dripping sarcasm) and I left it there. Setting the world on fire.... or not.

Fast forward 4 years....yes 4 years between posts... and it feels right to pickup the pen (artistic licence) again. Hopefully I have more to say now than I did then.

Life has moved on - that's for sure, and I think it's still on the right path. We didn't buy THAT house, but we did find a lovely new home for us. We did also add to the brood - Miss L who just turned 3 is giving us the usual curry we expect from her, and Miss A is fast approaching teen having hit double-digits last year. We did spend a lot of time fishing, photographing and as it turns out renovating. 

Renovating... now that's a topic in itself & not something I am rushing to do again!

What did I learn in 4 years - plenty. But most of all I learn't what I really love, and that is what I would like to share with you. So please, join me as I ramble and wander through the meadows of my mind. I will have some opinions you may not share & I am sure I'll take a poke at big institutions - all part of me living a charmed life.

Yay it worked

I love technology!

Welcome :-)

Well I thought I'd give this blogging thing a go - see what I can come up with...

It's been a pretty topsy turvy week as it stands, should have had a bub this week - but that didnt work out :-( Then received his birth certificate in the mail today - perfect timing hey? Once again grateful for the fab support from all ... I needed it!!

On the plus side though, did some good work and think I will be able to help a really lovely man who's in a bit of the proverbial brown stuff, this always feels good. (not there yet, fingers crossed), and looking forward to a good weekend.

Looking at a house tomorrow which could be our new home - IF it's a bargain, and I suspect it is - it will give us loads more space and a few lovely big sheds for CJ to play in. Interestingly it's previous occupants ran a Meth lab from one of said sheds, so I think a bit of metal detecting could be worth trying.

Husband is off on a fishing weekend overnight Sat, so it'll just be A & me, and then Sunday we have the mid year concert - YAY... sort of.... love seeing the kids but there's no way 900 people can fit in that venue....