July 19, 2012 § Leave a comment

Saying good-bye to my partner’s younger sister today has made me really sad. Sad because she is my partner’s closest family member, and they have never lived on opposite sides of the world before. Amazed and in absolute respect for her as a young mum with a one, two and three year old. Sad because it makes me think about how close and reliable she has been in our times of need. Inspired by the courage her and her husband Tevita exude taking such a huge step by relocating the family from South Auckland to the South of France. But overall sad for how much my partner will miss his little sister.

The tears flowed today as we all stood around the departures area, in the moment when they absolutely had to go. The men being strong, the women wiping tears and mascara, the children largely oblivious. I miss them already.



July 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

Seeing a friend’s pictures of her beautiful new born baby on Instagram was a trigger.

That sadness which is negative and inconsolable washed over me like a king tide.

Like a bad score, moments like this bring down the average and saying “I’m OK, I’m doing well” becomes only a partially true statement.

This was mostly a good week. As my health started to improve, my head started to come together. The reality of having no job was a chilling reminder that life must go on.

I’m just identifying the triggers…

#np These Arms of Mine ~ Otis Redding

It happens slowly but surely

July 10, 2012 § Leave a comment

New day, fresh start. Feeling good. Blue skies.



July 10, 2012 § Leave a comment

Today was a good day.

Although it started with tears (I watched the Huggies ‘It Must Be Love’ commercial about six times and cried quietly in bed for about 3 minutes), I felt more alive health-wise and set about getting out of the house. Today was the first time I left the house by myself since before the miscarriage. It has been slowly occurring to me that if my pregnant stay-at-home girlfriend plans have failed, then I should probably think about getting another job. This hit home when I rang the bank to discuss restructuring my loan repayments – they were somewhat confused at my situation – no income, no job, no real plans. I would need to produce a medical certificate to prove that my work related stress was affecting my health. I’ve thought a lot about stress and my miscarriages.

I always seem to get distracted with online trawling for information about miscarriages. Today I read about the statistics on healthy pregnancies after one, two and three miscarriages. My partner and I will try again and sooner rather than later. I have the strength to endure another miscarriage – it just gets harder and harder to be positive. This time we’ll be going even more to the book – preparing ourselves pre-pregnancy, getting as healthy as possible, ensuring we’ve got shit a little bit more sorted. And we’ll go down this path once again.

I finally left the house to run errands – bank, post office, Council offices, Inland Revenue – I was shattered after just an hour of driving around, parking, walking, waiting, talking. I realised that I didn’t want to see anyone I knew, and I walked with my eyes down. I started getting hot flashes by the time I got to my last stop and I needed to get home.

I didn’t do my hair when I left the house, and I couldn’t be bothered with make-up. I caught a glimpse of myself around lunchtime… it was a bit scary. I had a lovely pregnancy glow two weeks ago – my skin looked so healthy and light. My nails were strong and for the first time in my life I was growing them and painting them and loving it. Two days after leaving hospital last week, my nails started to crack and become brittle. Being some of the coldest days of the year, my lips have become chapped and sore. With the sleeplessness and flu, cold sweats and tears, the bags under my eyes have become pretty serious. I looked old and run down. It was quite a depressing sight.

I looked through job advertisements in the afternoon – wondering what it is that I want to do. I think losing Rèmy has made me re-evaluate my life with a perspective I had never considered before. For this I’m grateful.

I ran out to get a few things for dinner and drove home in the direction of a beautiful orange sunset. I cried. Again. But I was OK. Just ‘process tears’… they aren’t weakness, or falling apart, they’re just the residual pain, hurt and grief which sit around the edge of my life – every breath, every minute, every day.

Today was a good day.

God has taken my babies

July 9, 2012 § Leave a comment

People say God has taken my babies.

Can’t I just have one?



Random thoughts, grief and dreams: one week on

July 9, 2012 § Leave a comment

It’s one week since I lost Rèmy.

I woke up at 3.30am thinking ab0ut his grave. I was dreaming about the soil.

When I was shaking with fever yesterday morning, curled up in the fetal position feeling like I was going to die, I wanted to go to Rèmy’s grave. But I couldn’t see straight and couldn’t have driven. I clutched at the blanket we have kept that Rèmy was laid upon in the casket, and I felt strong.

This is a good resource for miscarriage specific grief – over the last week, my mind, body and soul has been tested to its limits.

One of the well-meaning but irritating comments I have been plagued with this week has been, your time will come – you’ll get there in the end. How do they know? Don’t they think I have hoped, prayed and wished for this? It doesn’t help. It’s well-meaning, but no one knows if this is true and therefore, don’t say it if it is not a statement based on truth.

These are just some thoughts at 4.30am. Lying awake in bed, thinking about Rèmy.

The Aftermath: when the body catches up

July 9, 2012 § Leave a comment

I’ve got the wickedest flu. Fever, cold sweats, meanest headache, achey  body. I feel like shit.

I hobbled to the doctor. My blood pressure was OK, temperature high, heartbeat racing. He said that having had the blood loss of last week, the grief and the trauma, it is natural to have low immunity and to be vulnerable to sickness and infection. As I lay in the nurse’s treatment room waiting for the doctor, I thought about all the things that could be wrong with me. I thought about dying, and having infections of the blood or uterus. Hearing the diagnosis of flu was a relief, but I’ve never had flu like this – the doctor said that it will feel more intense after having had the D&C operation, suffering heavy blood loss and low hemoglobin levels.

My fever has now dissipated, I’m feeling a tiny bit better but I’m hanging out for the antibiotics to kick in. I’m still dizzy, but not as bad as this morning.

But fuck this.

Where Am I?

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