Phases Of The Moon and Phases Of Fertility


Friday, June 24, 2011

Four years on...

It turns out I can actually access this still... I lost access years ago when Blogger and Google started playing funny buggers.

So what's been going on? I now have 2 beautiful children, Isobel who is almost 4 and Harrison who is 2... both are ICSI miracles.

We now live in rural Victoria, and are planning on building.

I'm a full time stay at home mother now... so I should update my profile info from: Thirty something approaching parenthood for the first time thanks to the miracle of IVF. I'm also learning that your greatest fear can be overcome if you take it one breath at a time.

I've missed nails...

It's good to have them back.


Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Venting to try and stay sane...

This is more of a vent than anything so bear with me...

Mum went to the doctors today, nothing new to report but he has x-rayed her chest due to a persistent cough and given her a referral to a physio about her back.

She's in a mood with me because I lectured, and that's as good a word as any, her about combustion in wheat bags. I even gave her guidelines when she said she'd never heard of them catching on fire; one lot from the NSW fire brigade with the risks outlined. She thinks I'm worrying too much and being over dramatic. *shrug* You can smell the wheat bags through the house the next morning, a sort of burnt bread smell, but she can't smell it so it doesn't exist. It also gives her an excuse to criticise the cats and the smell of food/ trays if we mention smells.

Marie has upset Martha with a letter she sent her about Des. Think the Donna fiasco played out on a "Marie was always more spoilt, she and Lorna should never of said what they did after Leo died, etc" level. All the old jealousies that she has played out in us kids exacerbated by the loss of Des. I'm trying to be patient but don't know how to handle this. The Boi keeps telling me to communicate with her but its like talking to... well, let's be honest... Mum.

I never anticipated this when we talked about the move.

Worst of all is she has started doing over the top displays by purchasing things when the Boi and I try to help in anyway. I got an over priced pair of maternity pyjama's for driving her around for the funeral. I don't know if she's trying to out do The Boi's family or what but it makes me feel very uncomfortable and I wish she'd put the effort into her great grandchildren and grandchildren instead.

Oh! If she mentions the PJ's you can tell her how much I liked them. Except for the colour and the price I do. They are a great deal nicer than the granny nighties she keeps pushing.

Taking her to Spotlight was pointless. Walk in, look at wraps, look at wools and leave. Tut tut over the range of polar fleeces, sniff at the flannelettes and run down the suggestion of making PJ's like we bought after saying how she can copy things but isn't original in ideas. Going to Spotlight was her idea.

Worst of all for me is the side comments about how The Boi and I do things. "I don't want to sound critical but..." starts of the conversation. It's everything from how we prepare veggies, to what we buy, to our driving styles and choices regarding parenthood. I know Pete wants me to listen to her advice and try to meet her part way on things but he's not getting the full impact. It's not just me she's running down now. It's like she knows my two weakest points and is hammering at them. I can't hide in bed or the bath all the time but I'm losing it. And if she uses language that negates herself one more time I think I will.

I'm trying to apply the skills we learnt in the course. I'm trying to be patient. I'm losing me, I'm losing confidence, and I'm losing my happy.

This could all be hormones, it could all be topic, but I'm losing it.

If I cannot be a good daughter how the hell am I ever going to be a decent mother?

Thursday, July 05, 2007

DAAS: Misunderstood Hippies

DAAS is one of those "guilty pleasures" that I have hung on to from my Uni days.

The broadband is back and so am I

After a little under 2 months of dial up and no access to computers the Boi and I are now returned to the world of the faster internet connection.

How anyone survives on dial up is beyond me! MSN and hotmail bit more than usual, but Yahoo also failed to live up to the standards I have come to expect from them.

We've left Dodo and gone over to AAPT, following much screwing around until someone asked if the land line was a cable Optus connection. Restoring the old twisted copper line to the house here proved more trouble then expected and resulted in a minor rewiring job.

Talking of here we are slowly settling in and returning to normal. My mother has succeeded in making me feel like I am twelve again and makes many comments that explains years of therapy and undermines my confidence in myself. The Boi is finding this harder to take than I thought. The move isn't the issue, it's seeing someone he normally sees as strong and independent cowed and frightened to be her true self.

Examples: When I get up after 9am due to sleeping poorly as Bub is bouncing on my bladder all night I'm greeted with "It's up!" in a tone that drips with sarcasm and disdain. We'll get in to the whole area of calling a person an "it" another time.

I am criticised for gaining weight (about 5 kg so far) and how I eat. I happen to be five and a half months pregnant but apparently I am gaining weight because I never exercise and eat wrong. I'm also causing irreparable danger to myself and my child by not eating "normal foods." This translates as me being a lacto-ova vegetarian coeliac; akin to Satan worship in her books.

Don't get me wrong. I love my mother and understand on so many levels that this comes from her own inability to cope with change in anyway. BUT do I need to be subservient to my husband? Do I need to have his shirts ironed and meals on the table when he walks in? Should I sacrifice my health and ethics to meet her standards? (Some of which I find archaic to be polite about it.)

Worse of all might be that I don't feel able to grieve in my own fashion. Mum doesn't show emotion. She feels it is a sign of weakness. She doesn't hug or discuss how she feels beyond "I just need time" or a justification of "Just because I don't show things doesn't mean I don't feel them." I am certain I am not the only person out there with a mother like this... I can name at least 6 others ;)... but it's a combination of factors that when taken individually are silly little irrelevancies. Combine them however and I begin to understand how people divorce parents or write them off.

OH! Just in case people are wondering: Pregnancy going well. Baby moving great; if male they definitely could play for the magpies, if female then an interstate team or Geelong. ;p Cravings: Potato, jubes, custard. The photo at the top shows how I've "Popped."

Hugs and thanks to all who've sent messages of love and support.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Thank you

To everyone who's hung in there while I take a break, and especially to all those who've sent messages of support and sympathy on the passing of my Father, I would like top say a huge...


It hasn't been easy lately. I find myself crying for "no reason." I'm trying to get it out of my system as best as I can but find what I really want to do is scream at a section of family that have acted abominably through out the past three months... oh, and at my Mum for standing up for them while they continue to treat her in a way I reserve for those who harm children.

I'm scared that if I don't let this out soon the bitterness inside me will eat my baby or harm her in some way. (No, it's not a girl. We're finding out after I squeeze her out. No, it doesn't have to be a girl. I'd be happy with a boy, as long as he's healthy. I just can't use It. I could use Mum's pet name for her, Billie. Would that be better?)

Anyway, on the baby news front: Billie is stretching lots. I know this as the pain is fun. It's not movement as such more a very uncomfortable pain similar to what you get after doing sit ups after not having exercised since leaving school.

I might be off the air for a prolonged time while we finish the move; seems our ISP are pricks that cannot get their heads around the concept of moving a broadband connection to a new number without it being a 3-6 week delay... or something like this. This is the Boi's area.

Anyhow... just wanted to say Thanks.

Huge hugs

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Friday the 13th: Lucky for some...

I haven't written for a while due to my father's illness and my own tiredness associated with work, worry and pregnancy. I won't be writing for a while again due to my father's funeral, pregnancy and moving.

On Friday after a short illness my father passed over with my mother, one of my brothers and his family, Peter and myself by his side. Peter was actually outside trying to reach my sister as I saw what was about to happen and wanted her contacted as soon as possible.

I've never really held with death as anything more than a transition from one state to another, and feel the body is a beautifully elaborate vessel for holding the energy known as the soul. When he had stopped breathing I fell straight in to the mode of PCA laying out the body. I checked vitals, pupils and let the RN know. I made sure his teeth were in, and lay him flat, removing extra pillows that might add to the slackness of the jaw and make the funeral parlour's presentation job that bit harder. It was second nature to me.

Not so the brother, a Jehovah's Witness, who thought I was being morbid and did not understand the actions I was taking. Due to this I could not perform one of the last things I wanted to for my father, which was to wash his body and prepare him for the journey to the parlour.

I sat and watched him as long as I could, but said brother's 4 year old daughter kept coming in and I was concerned about how this might impact upon her in later life.

Making those phone calls were the hardest thing I've ever done.

You'd think losing a parent would be among the worst thing that could happen then the family tensions begin.

Mum and I went back to her place after the Doctor signed the certificate (about three hours post mortem.) My sister returned home, as did my JW brother. Middle son had come in, seen the body, left. {I'm skipping bits... sorry... I need to get this out in the order in my head.} Brothers who could not make it that evening were coming to the house the next day. We didn't really know who at the time but the oldest boy would be coming to help with the funeral and this we knew. Mum thought it would be a simple case of OB picking her up and taking her to parlour to sort details.

The Funeral rep came to the house to finalise the prepaid stuff and sort out other details. OB, JW, youngest boy and second son were all there by chance. OB because it was arranged was the only expected one. We didn't know it would be at the house. So, not everyone knew, not everyone was there. Those that bothered to call Mum knew what was happening and made their own decisions. Some just rocked up to be with Mum. Middle son never called.

Today we sorted out burial time, place etc.

Mum called around all the family to confirm and finalise all details. This is when the shit hit the fan.

Her first call was to middle son who had not bothered to call her to see how she was, had snubbed her and other family at the ACF where Dad died, and generally been a prick through out the past 8 weeks under the guise of "...but Dad said..." {I might of ranted at some point about a brother who never visited except at Christmas? Guess who?}

MS's de facto wife answered. I was the other end of the room and I could hear the strips torn from Mum as this cow attacked her for not including MS in the discussion. A discussion, keep in mind, Mum thought was the role of OB only and did not expect (or indeed want) any of the others to be at; myself included. When Mum hung the phone up she was visibly shaken and looked ashen. I thought I would be calling an ambulance to get her some help.

Next, she called SS and left a message as he was asleep due to working nights as a baker in his own business. (SS would like to have catered the after party at the house. He's not happy about this being held at the local Bowls club. My mother has major panic attacks at the thought of family coming home and the floors being dirty so can you imagine her state with about 100 people wandering through the house? )

JW was next on list. JW declined to be a pall bearer. Mum is upset by this. JW also refuses to do reading. Mum fears that JW will not turn up.

OB followed on the call list. He was very supportive and helpful. He might even try to make appointment with priest on Monday; first one to offer though all have had this information passed on.

YB took information in much the same way, but has to work so didn't expect to make the meeting about the service.

I had already called Sis so she was up to date over the whole situation, except the MS reaction.

Mum's shattered but holding it together over the whole situation. I feel like I am on the verge of a collapse emotionally so am at home tonight for a break and some cat time.

If your interested: Announcements in the Hun and the Age.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Palliative Care

The case coordinator for my father has called my mother to set up an appointment for this Friday.

They are talking about transfering him from the Kingston Centre to Bethlehem Hospice as he has deteriorated to a point where they feel that Palliative care is the best option.

Sometimes I hate knowing what I do about ageing and aged care.