A moment of happiness

It's hard to be happy. I struggle with allowing myself to feel happy. I mean, how can you be happy when some of your children are dead? Really? It's just always there.

Last night I slept for 8 hours in a row for the first time in at least 8 months. Today I spent the morning with Beanie and Coccinelle. It was a beautiful crisp autumn morning. Coccinelle had a nice nap. When she woke up we went to watch an excavator move huge piles of earth into a dump truck from a house build site near us - something which made Beanie very happy! I took him to daycare - he starts in the late morning on Wednesdays. He likes listening to music in the car. I sang along to the song during the short drive. Coccinelle was busy making baby noises in her carseat.

I felt a moment of spontaneous happiness, one which came naturally and which wasn't weighed down by grief. It can be done. It just takes a very long time.

I made something!

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Beanie and Coccinelle today. Did I tell you I actually managed to complete a knitting project? I made Coccinelle's "shrug". Yay me! She spit up all over it shortly after this picture was taken.

School

I supplemented with formula today for the first time. Coccinelle is 4 months old and my milk seems to be drying up. I had her weighed yesterday and she has slipped down a growth curve. Now I'm supplementing I'm expecting what little of my milk is left to vanish. I'm a bit disappointed but I'll get over it. I wasn't enjoying the bf as much as I did with Beanie and Coccinelle didn't look like she was enjoying it either.

I've more or less come to terms with the fact that I'm unlikely to have any more children. The pregnancies are too stressful and my marriage isn't strong enough. This means that I feel like getting some "formal" exercise to try and tone at least some of the flab that 3.5 pregnancies in 5 years leaves on your stomach. Formula frees me to do that more easily too.

One thing it's difficult to admit to here is that looking after small children is quite hard. Having dead babies doesn't automatically make you into a wonderful parent that never threatens to take her son's favourite teddy bear out of bed unless he stops banging his head like a hammer against his headboard and risk waking up his sister and killing off brain cells. (The threat works like a charm).

I can't think every second of the day about how grateful I am to have two beautiful, healthy, living children. Even though on a macro scale of course I know it's true. I mean, V would have started school this week. I am so lucky to have had Beanie and Coccinelle.

I'm coming close to retiring this blog.

4 years

Happy 4th Birthday V.

We took your brother and sister to the seaside where we had typical British weather, fish and chips and we wrote your name in the sand. The high tide washed it away along with the flowers from your grandmother's garden.

Your little brother sang happy birthday to you without really knowing why.

We miss you little one.

Kids

I don't have the time or energy to update you on the details of my marriage but thanks for your comments and emails. Let's say that DH was sorry about spitting at me, he's just come back from a 5 day business trip. Things are slightly better but I'm still not sure what our long or even medium term future is.

In the meantime, on to happier things, here is a picture of the kids taken on 4th July.

[photo removed]

This morning during an argument, my husband spat in my face. The argument was already bad as it was in front of Beanie. And believe it or not, this evening he is still trying to hold some sort of moral high ground.

I'm not sure where we go from here, but I really want Beanie to stop having to see us argue and I don't want Coccinelle to go through her babyhood in this dreadful atmosphere of bitterness, point-scoring, anger, and well, yes, it seems hatred.

And frankly being spat at in the face has to be some sort of line. What is the next step? Kicks and punches?

Beanie is such a great kid. He is at a really fantastic age. He absorbs everything. He deserves better than this.

Anger and Regrets

Here is a picture of Coccinelle at almost 6 weeks.

[photo removed]

Apart from a gunky eye, which you can't see here as I had just cleaned it, she seems to be doing well.

DH finally took some days off and things got a little better. I am still harbouring a lot of residual anger and I still explode at him for the slightest thing. If the truth be told, I am also angry with him, probably wrongly, about what happened to A. Whilst I wavered about the te.rm.inati.on, he was quite sure. I wasn't strong enough and I don't believe that we explored about all the possible options and outcomes thoroughly enough. But he was already sure. Logically I know that my Dad had just died suddenly cutting short any time for reflection. We had no time left. The longer you leave such a decision, the worse it becomes. Maybe A would have died in utero anyway or after birth or during heart surgery or or or.

I still don't feel 100% comfortable in this "new" house although it's improving slowly. And I'm still angry about the lack of support throughout the pregnancy and the fact that I had to ask him to take more than a couple of days off after the birth of a baby. At least he has a job with good benefits.

But I do feel a bit calmer nevertheless. Probably some part of it was made worse by a dose of postpartum hormones.

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It just slipped out. I referred to Beanie as "the first". Today another parent at daycare who has kids 23 months apart stopped to coo at Coccinelle. She asked how everything was going and in part of my answer I said, "for the first you tend not to leave them crying when they're so little, but when there are two, you inevitably have to sometimes." I don't really know this woman and she certainly doesn't know my history. But as I got into the car I immediately regretted saying that. If only the first had cried. I told myself that "first" was an abbreviation for "first living child". It's quite lame.

Life continues

Coccinelle is a month old now and has put on more than a kilo since we left hospital. She is doing well. Beanie was sick the week we came out of hospital with a fever of almost 40 deg C and I was more than a little paranoid that Coccinelle would catch it too. So I was telling Beanie not to touch Coccinelle which didn't help his psychological adjustment to his little sister.

However ,he is coming round slowly now. Very clingy to Mummy and a refusal of vegetables. But these are good problems for DBMs anyway.

On the marriage side things are going very badly. I feel so angry all the time towards my husband. We have had some very bad arguments which show no sign of abating. Yes, yes, I know that lack of sleep doesn't help matters (although Coccinelle sleeps way better than Beanie did at the same age). Part of the anger is the lack of moral support I had throughout the pregnancy. The day before the birth I wasn't even sure I wanted him to be there. We seem to have no connection or spark left at all. Frankly if it weren't for the children, I don't think I would still be here.

3 years

Dearest A,

I think I will never be able to stop asking you for forgiveness in my head. I love you even though I may not deserve to.

Mummy

Introducing Coccinelle

[photo removed]

2.75kg, Apgars 10, 10, 10, birth story to follow when I am less exhausted! Born at 2.25pm on 28th April. Photo is at 1 day old.