Hope & Cells

It is the eve of my little Tinker's first day of pre-school so I thought I'd pop in and update you instead of spending any more time fiddling nervously with her little backpack for tomorrow!

Yes I survived last week, and yes I know I owe you some tales and pictures from our fabulous trip. Alas, real life has the audacity to get in the way of my blog posts.

Someone who read last week's post sent me an email asking me about my miscarriage. They made the point that "in the first trimester it isn't really a baby" and suggested I think not of it as the death of our child but rather a mass of cells.

I appreciate the thought, I take it this particular reader thought their advice might console me in some way, however I couldn't help but share their thoughts with you all. Especially after receiving so many emails from other readers who had suffered similar losses and said they found little understanding from their friends and families.

Everybody is different, and if I am to share with you my feelings about this, it would be to point out that a loss is a loss. It is the sudden end to a lifetime of hopes and dreams for a special little person. Whether that little person resembles a salamander in a sac of a fluid or looks a lot like your Uncle Ned, it doesn't matter. An unborn baby represents hope. From the moment you are blessed with a pregnancy your heart fills with dreams for this little person. If the baby dies before he gets the chance to meet you, he takes all of those dreams with him.

In my case, I had put a lot of weight on the fact that our baby was due around the one year anniversary of my dear friend Alli's death. It warmed my heart knowing that our special little baby would bring so much joy and hope to everyone remembering Alli a year after her death. So for me, losing this baby represents a lot.

It comes at a time when some people are moving on with their lives without Alli and for others, the 6month mark has been a very sad one. I'm in the latter group and after this happening, I am feeling a kind of double-grief. Missing so much, my beloved friend and soul mate and missing also, the hope of this new little life that represented so much for so many of us.

Tomorrow

"Tomorrow can be a wonderful age."

That's what Walt Disney said when referring to Tomorrowland, one of the Magic Kingdom lands he created for his theme parks. We "did" the Hong Kong Disney on the first leg of our trip and then we finished off the Disney experience with a week at Disneyworld in Florida on the way home. Tinker is now Disney-mad.

In the photo above she is meeting Mickey for the first time. Would you believe she actually got tears in her eyes when she realised we were actually going to meet him for real? It was adorable.

The week before we left for Fiji we found out that little Tinker was to become a big sister in October. Such magical news. October will be one year since the passing of our dear Alli and what better way to brighten a tough month with the arrival of a new baby?

Sadly, it wasn't to be. I suffered some complications, a subchorionic hemorrhage that lasted a week and horribly ended in the passing of our dear little baby when we were in London. People are hesitant to talk about miscarriage. I'm not really sure why. I guess the term implies some sort of negligence. I miscarried my baby. I carried my baby badly so he died. That sort of idea? It's a stupid word isn't it- miscarriage? Anyway, I'm not one of those people. Death is part of life and it serves nobody to pretend it doesn't happen.

For me, tomorrow will be a tough day. It marks the 6th month since Alli's death and it is also the day we close the chapter on the pregnancy that wasn't to be because I am having to undergo a surgical removal. Graphic terms really, don't you think? Not as stupid as the term they used on my pre-admission form today - "retained products". What? Products of conception. Oh I see.

Nice.

Anyway, tomorrow IS a new day and tomorrow can be a wonderful age.

I'll be back. xx

How to Give Birth

From the UK this week we have learnt two things when it comes to giving birth.

1.) We should not have an epidural.

2.) Our husbands should wait outside.

The first point was brought to you by Dr Denis Walsh, a male midwife and the second point was brought to you by Dr Michel Ordent, a male Obstetrician. You can read the full text of the article covering old mate Denis's views here and our buddy Michael's point can be found here.

What are your thoughts? For me my thoughts are simple. Firstly you must do whatever is in the best interests of the little life you are guarding and then secondly you should do whatever makes you most comfortable. In that order. Pain relief, no pain relief. Husband, no husband. I don't have a view. I think you've got to go with your gut and do what's right for you. *Just re-read that. Get out, I'm a poet!*

Not sure I agree with the sentiment that men should not comment when it comes to advising women how to birth their children, that the absence of female reproductive organs renders their opinion moot. That doesn't make sense to me. It would be like saying female doctors can't advise men with prostate cancer. However a funny comment I read was that men who think women should just suck it up and tolerate the pain in order to better bond with their baby should also suck it up and tolerate the pain of a drug free vasectomy to better bond with their sterility. Nice.

What do you think? Is there are right way and a wrong way and should dad wait outside with a cigar and a maybe a relaxing book?

Too old to be a mother?

I read this article HERE about a 66 year old British lady who is 8 months pregnant thanks to fertility treatment.



Obviously because of her age, the assisted pregnancy has attracted a fair bit of attention and criticism. She says " don't have to defend what I have done. It's between me and my baby and no one else." She also says that "It's not my physical age that is important; it's how I feel inside. Some days, I feel 39. Others, I feel 56"




The photo above shows Ms Adeney, she certainly looks fit. Maybe even fitter than me and she could be my grandma. Apparently she is still working 5 days a week.

It got me thinking... So many of my friends and close family have endured painful struggles with infertility. Many have found success with fertility treatments and have gone on to have children. Some much later in life than they had initially planned. Others have not found success yet and maybe when they do, they will be of a certain age. When I think of how much they want to become parents and how wonderful they will be when they finally get their blessing, all notions of "age appropriateness" go out the window.



Well, to a certain extent. I think having a baby at 66 is very dramatic and vastly different to having a baby 46. But then when I challenge myself I wonder if maybe I am being unfair. If I apply the same principles to the argument in favour of the 66 year old woman having a baby to the argument in favour of my 46 year old friend having a baby then I am a hypocrite.



Is 66 as absurd to us as maybe 36 was to our great grandparents? Is my disapproval of the 66 year old just a sign of the times moving quicker than my attitude? Or is it just too old to even entertain the idea?



What are your thoughts on this? I suppose in my mind the biggest stumbling block is the fairness for the child involved. It seems cruel to imagine an 87 year old planning her son's 21st birthday. It seems cruel to imagine the little 10 year old trying to play cricket in the backyard with his ailing 76 year old mummy... but maybe I am being ageist and awful. Maybe it is smug of me to deny this woman the right to feel the joy that motherhood brings because I happened to be in my twenties when I was blessed with my child...



Would love to hear your views.