Disco Knitter

Bonnie came with me to the hospital today, and Roshni was back from holidays. It was actually really lovely to touch base with her again – she said that she’d been thinking about me lately. She and I do have a lovely understanding.

1 in 200 miscarriages results in bleeding that goes beyond what is healthy. If this happens, and you don’t get to hospital, things get ugly. Which is why Roshni thinks I should opt for the D&C, and avoid the risk. From her perspective, it’s better to avoid that .5% risk than take the risk of having surgery.

From my perspective, the inherent risks of surgery (general anaesthetic, infection, sharp instruments near bits of me that have had quite a ride already…) far outweigh the benefits of well, waiting.

Don’t get me wrong, I HATE waiting. But having unnecessary surgery to avoid having to wait seems a bit extreme, even to me. Normally, miscarriages happen between 2-4 weeks after the baby stops growing. Which means that I am just inside the window now, and that if I wait another 2 weeks, statistically, I’m likely to miscarry naturally.

Worst case scenario, if I do bleed too much, I have good support, I can get myself to hospital, or call an ambulance, or call someone to help out. I am paranoid enough to be cautious, and I’ve already experienced a nasty infection, so I know about the warning signs there too.

All in all, I am comfortable with the decision to wait, apart from the requirement that I attend the hospital every week until I get the all clear.

That sucks.

And the worst bit? I’m still deathly tired, and still puking.

So rude.

9pm on a Tuesday night, and my temp is going up. Feeling a bit crappy.

Just like I did before I went into labour with A&A. Just before I developed sepsis.

We all know I love a drama, but I could live without this.

Going to take my temp again in an hour, and if I am still under 37.5 degrees, I’ll call it a cold and go to bed I just needed a bit more excitement in my life!

Update – 37.4. Going to bed.

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Further update – Wednesday morning, and I feel perfectly fine. CLearly it’s the paranoia setting in

After a brief show the other day, there has been no further action. The waiting continues.

Mark and I went out party hopping last night, and after a nice sleep in this morning (thanks Bev & Ted), I have started to bleed.

The doctors said it might take weeks, so I am relieved that it is happening naturally. I was offered surgery, but I have this crazy notion that avoiding hospitals and surgery is the best way to go. There is a remote possibility that I may still need surgery, but at least for now, things are looking “good”.

As to how I feel emotionally, I am (touch wood), surprisingly OK. At my age (42 in May), the risk of miscarriage in in any pregnancy is about 50%, so although I have never had one before, I have now spent too much time with other women that have been through this over and over and over to be able to feel too sorry for myself. Mark and I are exceedingly blessed with one freakily awesome child already, and it is mostly for his sake that I want to provide him with a sibling. I also recognise just how awful it was for him to be deprived of a mama for so long, and then to get me back as a shadow, filled with sadness and longing, and barely able to do the physical work of mothering. As to the emotional task of mothering, I am getting better at that, but it has been a long, long road.

So far, my self protective mechanisms seem to have worked quite well. I was grateful to have found out that this baby was gone at 9 weeks and not 19 weeks. I make no judgement about what different gestations mean to other mothers, but to me, so far, it seems far easier to say goodbye to the dream now, rather than further down the track.

And once again I am reminded about how lucky I am to be surrounded by really wonderful people, both family and friends. Had I had the need, I had a huge team of people who would have dropped everything to be with me when I got the news. People that I may not see every day, but who nonetheless are willing and able to step up during a crisis. People who know what it is to suffer, and are willing to share the ride.

Right now, all I can feel is gratitude for the blessings that are in my life. Maybe the bitterness will come in it’s own time, but now I’ll enjoy the love.

On the way to buy gin after finding out that my baby died about a week and a half ago, I slipped in the rain (spectacularly), and took a chunk of skin out I my left knee, and a bigger one out of my left foot.

At home now, with painkillers, gin, and good friends, waiting to miscarry.

Thanks mum and dad for looking after Squishy.

Jen from Rainbow Days posted about an awesome adventure place for kids in Jakarta.

I’ve never really spent much time in Jakarta, usually preferring to use it as a big noisy, smelly & rude transit lounge to much nicer places, but I think this is something Inigo would love so much it might even be worth a social visit.

Check out the website, there isn’t one in Australia yet, but Tokyo and Mumbai are on my travel wish lists

So IF there is a heartbeat on Thursday afternoon, I have support in place for the long road ahead. She is very experienced, and has had stillborn twins, so she KNOWS what this feels like. I am very, very lucky to have found just the right person. Thank you FSM for the connection!

No tutorials or pracs this week, but thanks to Bev and Mum I am able to attend the first lectures of each of my two subjects (Social and Personality Psychology, and Cognition 1). So today all I had to do was get my student card, and try to borrow a book from the library.

After the walk from the carpark, I was already sweaty and lightheaded. I found the line for the student card, and quickly decided that I would either pass out or vomit if I had to stand there for more than a bout 5 minutes, so I gave up. The school leavers around me in the queue were outraged that I was planning on staying on campus without a valid student card. I thought one of them was going to hyperventilate because of the wild and unbuttoned anarchy. And that is clearly the problem with mature age students on campus

I found myself some water, and joined the Dr Who society, the Greens, the Psychological Society, the Womens Collective, the LGBTI group (poor chap wasn’t quite ready for me), and the atheists. By which point I was ready to take to my chaise. I then came across the Campus Wellbeing stall, and it occurred to me that I might as well go and make friends with them, being that if this year goes well I’ll have a baby, and I may need extra support, and if things go badly, I won’t have a baby, and I will very shortly afterwards be certifiably insane…

So I staggered upstairs, explained my history to the lovely Jackie, and made an appointment to see a disability support officer in a few weeks time. She then offered to help me get my student card by taking me to the head of the queue. I almost protested, but better sense prevailed, and I gratefully accepted. And then, once I got it, I had another sit down for an hour to recover my strength to get back to the car.

So I spent about 3 hours in total, and managed to get 1 student card, drink about 2 litres of water, and book in to the wellbeing centre.

But I appear to have completely bypassed all of the promised O Week craziness.

Should I go back tomorrow? I still have a book to find!

Today, things started badly when Inigo peed in our bed. He was awake, it wasn’t a sleepy accident.

Later, we had to leave a friends place because he repeatedly ignored instructions, culminating in throwing sticks in the wading pool where there were babies playing.

Once, I told off some kids for throwing a rock and nearly killing my child, so I take it as my sacred duty to prevent him from killing (or maiming) anyone else’s child. So stick throwing is something I take a very dim view of, and when it is preceded by other bad behaviour, action is necessary.

We came home and had a cool bath together. We talked about why it is important to listen to mama, and about saying sorry. He told me what he wanted to say to our friends, and I printed it out for him to trace.

He then spent the next hour writing this letter for them.

I am very proud that he is learning how to repair after a conflict

But because this has all taken so freaking long – all the tute, lecture and prac places are filled, and I have been forced to enrol in classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays that are on after I have to pick up Inigo from preschool.

I’ll have to try begging to get into some of the classes that are already full.

Oh, UNE, how I miss you!

Oh, and I finally had contact from the hospital. I’ll see the high risk team on the first of March. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that I make it that far.

Article from Slate. Worth a read, but it will make you feel pretty bleak about the Grammys…

Downton Abbey Paper Dolls!

Thank you Jezebel!

Now, for the news that matters…

I was granted 20 credit points by Macquarie. I can use those credit points to get exemptions for subjects that are similar to ones I have already done. On Friday I asked for an exemption for 100 level psych 1&2, with the intention that I would take 100 level stats this semester which would then allow me to take on 200 level subjects next semester.

I’ve been boring my friends stupid with talk of stats, of planning a light semester (only 1 subject, so I can really get my teeth into it), and mentally preparing myself for the onslaught.

And then I was granted an exemption for stats. An exemption I didn’t want, and didn’t ask for.

Now it seems like a free pass, “woo hoo! I don’t have to do stats this semester”, etc, etc…

But what happens when I need to do 200 level stats without even studying 100 level stats.

It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

And in order to avoid thinking about it while I spend this semester out of my brain with stress about something I cannot control, I think I’ll do personality, or sensation and perception…

That was about as much fun as stabbing yourself in the eye with a fork. And I am not done yet.

The subjects I have chosen all have prerequisites, which I will be exempted from because of previous studies, but that credit wont be applied until
Some time over the weekend. Once that is done, I should be able to apply online on Monday or Tuesday.

Then I can buy textbooks, and start the serious business of study. Finally!

Tomorrow is enrolment day at Macquarie. I am all kinds of conflicted about the decision, but for now, I am going to stick with Macquarie. If it all goes pear shaped, I am pretty sure UNE would take me back, and give me credit for anything I achieve at Macquarie, so it’s a pretty low risk experiment.

That said, it’s a lot of hassle to avoid being away from my kid for one three day residential school. Now the wheels are in motion, and I am going to make the best of things, and try to be excited about my first ever experience as an on campus university student. At 42 years of age, I’ll be finding out what I missed out on by having my *head up my own arse at 18 years old.

*Disclaimer – while I think that most 18 year olds have their head up their own arses, I think there are exceptions, and some of them even pass first year. I also think it is fair to note that in the intervening years my head has not been entirely, or permanently removed from its place of lodging.

Wish me luck!

A pic from Tuesdays Auburn Breastfeeding mums ABA group – our room was double booked, so we squeezed 21 people into a tiny room! Lots of happy mums and babies, it’s such a joy to be part of this lovely group.

Apparently some one/thing has hacked into my blog again. I find this painful because the blog is my touchstone for where I was, what I was doing, and for reaching out and connecting. Life wouldn’t fall apart without the sparkly pink background gif and assorted blatherings, but it would be less fun.

And I find it very strange that anyone would bother trying to tear me down. I don’t get thousands of hits a week, or run a business, or do anything interesting here (unless you think talking about gin, dead babies and university bureaucracy is fun), so I can’t see what possible purpose there is in attacking it.

Mark seems to have fixed it now, bless him, and I hope the attacks stop. But I can see a new host in our future. Any recommendations internet peeps?

In real life today, I went to my support group, then had lunch with some lovely friends. So lovely in fact that I think all three of us ended up in tears more than once, and though it was wrenching and painful and hard, it was also uplifting and nurturing.

Then Squish had his first piano lesson, which he loved, and we’re looking forward to going back next week.

The tiredness is starting to get to me. I’m (apparently) still pregnant, and the first trimester tiredness is kicking my butt. The nausea rears it’s head every now and then, but it’s the tiredness that is really kicking me around. Driving to Lilyfield and back, and sitting on my butt all day has really taken it out of me.

So on that note, goodnight, and I will see the world tomorrow at about midday, when I finally get out of bed. Mark has this week off, so he is taking Squish to singing playgroup, and I get to have a massive lie in. And I don’t feel guilty at all much.

Project-L Song can be purchased on iTunes – I did!

It absolutely flabbergasts me that someone like Magda STILL has to think seriously about coming out. She is a massive star, loved by all Australians, and yet she waited till 2012 to publicly talk about her sexual orientation.

Just for a minute, think about having to make that decision, think about having to decide, worrying about how you would be perceived, whether you would every get the same job offers, the same party invitations.

Think about what it means to be so vulnerable to the whims of public opinion. I was born in the 70′s, when David Bowie wore make up, and Elton John and Liberace were “flamboyant”, but no-one was ever openly gay.

Then in the ’90s, AIDS came along, and the hatred and fear was out in the open. In the last decade, the heteros started going to mardi gras, and it was cool to have a gay boyfriend (if you were a girl!).

We’ve come a long way, but obviously, watching Magda tonight, not far enough.

There is no point talking about being “almost equal”, Australia needs full legal equality, so that our kids don’t have to deal with this crap.

It’s great to say “it gets better”, but it’s far better to fight to make it better. Today.

Marriage inequality is the last remaining barrier to legally entrenched discrimination.

I wouldn’t be happy with a civil union.

Would you?

Happy Valentines Day. I love youse all.

OK teaming up with Sesame Street to sing about primary colours.

Inigo and I just got out the food colouring and made orange, green and purple. Which makes me a feel a little bit better about putting on a movie at 7am so I could get some more sleep. Mark is working, and this pregnancy lark is making me so freaking tired! Inigo normally only gets tele once a week, when the whole family watches a movie together, and whenever his grandparents let him – this is not a regular occurrence!

My HCG is perfectly where it should be for dates. Blood sugar and liver enzymes were a little high, and iron a little low. So no more gin (I’ve been off the turps for a while anyway), no more coffee with chocolate in the morning, and no more carbs, or at least a only a minimal amount of carbs. And back on the iron supplements.

I have a referral to see Roshni, and apparently I have to see her within 3 weeks for more tests. I was too tired to ask why.