…Edward has just had his last feed and Rick is putting him down. The older boys are all in bed, though possibly not all yet asleep. Rick’s parents are in our family room, watching television. They are staying over tonight because tomorrow morning Rick and I have to take Jamie off to the hospital for a laryngoscopy to try and determine the cause of his husky voice. This means that he will be undergoing general anaesthetic for the first time. It is almost impossible to express how anxious I feel right now – how terrified I’ve been all week in fact. I’ve been playing and re-playing worst case scenarios in my head, and in all honestly, it’s been ‘doing my head in.’ I’ve had more than a few bouts of tears as I picture life without my little boy, and it’s simply been awful; I should never have read that novel, Oxygen, in which a young child dies in the operating theatre because of anaesthesia. Rationally, I know it’s a common routine procedure, but the mother in me cannot help but imagine the worst and be scared. I can’t even bear the thought of my little guy struggling against the gas. I just want it to be over and done with. Tomorrow, we will leave early in the morning at 6am and Jamie is first on the list at 8am. At least we won’t have to wait around for a long time. I just want him to be okay. That’s all I ask. If you are someone who prays, please pray for us…
…teapots on a wall / my milkshake drinker / the softest baby hoodie / two amazing cafes
What’s made you smile this week?
p.s. Thanks for all your wonderful response to the workshop! I’m super excited for it. As for my birth story, today didn’t quite go as I’d planned but I’m definitely on the home stretch. I can’t wait to share it with you guys.
Tonight I am weeping for our friends who have just found out that their baby has died. It is the worst kind of news, as there is nothing more terrible than a parent losing their child.
My heart is broken, simply broken, for them.
I know what lies ahead of them tonight. I know what lies ahead of them tomorrow. I know what lies ahead in the weeks, months and years to come.
What does a friend do at a time like this?
Cry with them. Grieve with them. Pray for them.
And that is what I shall be doing tonight.
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” Romans 12:15
There is something utterly precious about those first few days in hospital with a newborn. The alone time with one’s baby. The solitude. The peace. The first bath. The hot meals. The cups of tea (and the mini cupcakes). The bed rest. The freedom to take things slowly. As much as I am loving being back at home with all the boys, I have to admit that a tiny part of me still yearns for the quiet lull of my hospital babymoon…
Do you have fond memories of your hospital stay(s) after birthing your child(ren)?
…we are at the hospital, the syntocin drip is in (gosh, I don’t like cannulas), and Edward’s heartbeat sounds great. I just had my first proper contraction, and now I’m waiting for the second. To be honest, I’m still half in denial that this is all happening today, but I guess it really is! I just wanted to check in and say thanks for all your wonderful words of encouragement and support. It really means a lot to me. (And yes, I am probably the only woman in the labour ward who came in equipped with her Macbook Pro, wireless mouse and mouse pad.) I probably won’t post here again until after Edward’s arrival, but feel free to check Facebook for more immediate updates. See you all on the other side!
…fun with food & type / a funny nose / roses for the bathroom / a stunning sunset
What has made you smile recently? (Happy Friday!)
I wanted to check in today and let you all know that I am doing so much better now than I was last week when I wrote this post.
I am so very thankful to my close circle of friends, a lot of whom are doctors. They consoled me via SMS and gave me hope when I was in despair. In the end, one of them referred me to her brother-in-law, who is in fact a specialist in the area. I made an appointment at lightning speed, and after seeing him on Thursday, I was finally able to enjoy the peace of mind that I so desperately needed. Even as we were leaving the hospital car park, I told Rick how I felt like a whole new person. And I honestly did. And I still do.
Today, I am smiling again. Big time. And my heart is so much lighter.
Today, I feel normal again. I can finally go about my day, without breaking down into tears or having to lie down every few minutes.
Today, I feel empowered again. I feel like I can embrace these last two weeks of pregnancy once more. More importantly, I feel up to facing the prospect of labour and birth.
Today, I feel connected with my husband again. I’ve finally regained the headspace that eluded me this past week to enjoy quiet moments with Rick, to smell his cheek, to wrap my arms around him and to remind him how much I love and appreciate him.
Today, I feel connected with my boys again. I’ve been soaking in the smiles on their little round faces, and I’ve been loving the sound of their chuckles and laughter.
Today, I feel excited again at the thought of meeting Edward. I am talking to my little baby bear once more, urging him to stay safe and telling him how much we are looking forward to cuddling him.
Today is indeed a good day.
Today is such a happy day.
Thank you again to everyone for your wonderful support. Please let me know how you are all doing, and whether have any special plans for this Easter weekend?
…I am sitting here at the computer in our dining room. The boys are asleep upstairs, and Rick is out for the evening. The house is quiet except for the sound of Modern Family playing on the television in the family room.
…I am working away on photo book projects which I’m hoping to wrap up before baby Edward arrives.
…I am deeply excited about a collaboration that I can’t talk about in detail just yet. It’s something that I’ve been dreaming of for some time now, and I can’t wait to see it come to fruition later on this year.
…I am extremely nervous about labour. I can’t get my head around the fact that I’ll be doing it all again in just two and a half weeks time. Despite having gone through it four times already, it’s still surreal to me that this is the way most babies enter the world.
…I keep vacillating between excitement about Edward’s arrival, and anxiety about his safety in these last days. My mind keeps drifting back to Cameron whenever I start worrying that Edward has been too still. I guess this is simply part of my world now.
…I am so thankful for my husband, who is pulling out all stops in terms of looking after me and the boys, especially as my physical mobility continues to diminish the closer we get to my induction date.
…I am so happy about my day with Jamie today. He and I spent over five hours together this morning – just the two of us. We played, we talked, we read, we got into the car, we drove to Dee Why, we ate and drank at our local cafe, we walked to the beach, we ran errands at Officeworks, we came home, and all the while, we smiled and laughed and said “Love you!” constantly to each other.
…I am so proud of Pete, who is coping extremely well with adjusting to preschool. There are some mornings when he will tell us over and over again that he “don’t want to go to school!” but then by the time he gets out of the car at the other end, he usually goes in without a fuss and ends up having really good days. I love that little man so much.
…I am in awe of Angus, for his comprehension of almost all things in life, and his perceptiveness and sensitivity. There is not much that escapes him. Sometimes I forget he’s only four and a half. I am also grateful to him for looking after Pete so well at preschool on Wednesdays. He has definitely become not just “a big boy,” but also “a big brother.”
…I feel so blessed to have my family.
…I am so blessed to have my family.
These last couple of days have been really hard. The exact reason is too personal to share in this space, but suffice it to say that the final weeks of this pregnancy are taking quite a serious toll on my body. Perhaps because this is my fifth baby, or perhaps it’s just the luck of the draw, but I’m having to deal with certain symptoms that I never had with my previous pregnancies. It makes me rather disheartened, to be honest. Ever since we lost Cameron, Rick and I had both been of the same heart and mind that we wanted to go on and have six more children. For some inexplicable reason, that number just felt right to both of us. But at the rate all this is going, I’m starting to doubt that my body can handle two more pregnancies after this one. It makes me sad even just admitting that out loud. I’m in awe of the fact that my grandma bore ten children. Ten children. What an amazing woman she must’ve been.
Roses. There is something infinitely classic and timeless about them. Even their stems and leaves are uniquely romantic. I bought these yellow ones over the weekend, as I was hosting a coffee and dessert night for some ladies from church and I wanted to adorn our dining table with something beautiful. After the event, I moved them into our bedroom, and I have simply loved smelling their fragrance every evening when Rick and I retire upstairs. Their yellow beauty has also helped to lift my spirits these last two days, especially during my numerous teary episodes…
More flora here.