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!
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.
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.
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.
Squish came with me to get my blood test this morning. It hurt like hell. I had blood tests up the waazoo in 2010, and got quite accustomed to it. This one gave me a cold sweat, and I was taken right back to those days at the hospital when they were trying to figure out what drugs the bug in my blood would respond to.
I’ll get the results on Friday morning, and if they are within what is expected for dates, I’ll get a referral to see Roshni.
I went to the “Pregnant and Paranoid” group at SIDS & Kids today. It’s always wrenching and exhausting going to groups, but it’s also very normalising, and reassuring.
My request for recognition of prior studies came through today, Macquarie are willing to grant me 20 credit points for my 48. Which is almost fair – my 48 cover 7 whole 100 level units, and at Macquarie, 100 level units are worth 3 credit points. Why I didn’t get the extra 1 point, I don’t know, but I am disinclined to ask, considering the run around I had to go through last time I asked a question. Perhaps I can deal with it later. Perhaps I can fight it if I have any fight left in me later…
And the Squish. Has a 38 degree fever and a headache. Currently in flannel pyjamas, watching “Annie”, and eating weetbix for dinner. Poor baby.
He was so brave, he didnt even cry when he had his needles (x2). Hes now waiting for an adverse reaction in the waiting room. With a well deserved lollipop.
And the doctor was impressed with his pronunciation of vaccination!
Touch wood.
I’ve spoken to my midwife, who reckons that I am still a candidate for a home birth. But that I should check in with Roshni (my lovely high risk OB at the hospital). I was hoping that I could avoid the hospital, but probably isn’t rational – borne out of having had waaaay to much medical stuff after the twins were born.
Of course, I am still very, very terrified. Beyond terrified. I’m convinced that this will end in tears, that we won’t come home with a healthy baby, that Inigo won’t have a brother or sister. Apparently most women who are pregnant again after a loss don’t acknowledge it or make plans until much, much later. With my history though, I think that if I want this baby to live, I have to be open to whatever my medical team advises.
So on Tuesday, Inigo and I are going to the GP. He for his 4 year old vaccinations and a new referral to talk to the paediatrician (some anomaly with his last hearing test), and me for a blood test (just to make sure the hormone levels are on track for where they should be – I’d rather avoid a scan if I can), and a referral to see Roshni.
Tonight we told Inigo that we were working on another baby. Last time, we told him he was going to have two babies. This time, we’re “working on it”.
a picture of daddy having fun
Inigo had a great time today, and is looking forward to going back tomorrow. He really loves Claire, one of the teachers, and he loves Eva and Jody too.
Eva thought that I packed too much food for him. She has no idea how much that kid can eat when he isnt distracted!
As for Macquarie, I think their assessment protocols suck. Evie got it right, they shouldnt be punishing me for a fuckup in 19-freaking-99. Or 2000. If I recall correctly, I dropped out of uni when my grandmother died. Lots of stuff in my life was down the toilet. I didnt know why I was studying, I had no direction, and I didnt withdraw in time to escape academic penalty. Cest la vie.
But for now, if I can get into a Bachelor of Science, do some psych subjects, and then dazzle them with my brilliance for a while, I should be able to easily transfer into the BA/Psych or the BSc/Psych.
Well, that is the plan. There are a few more hurdles, like, will they give me credit for the 3 units I did in 1999/2000? Of they are going to punish me for the failures, they bloody well better give me credit for the wins.
And then there is convincing the lecturers to allow me to study Psych subjects when I am not enrolled in a Psych degree. But that is a battle for another day.
I havent even been accepted yet, and I am already hating the bureaucracy!
Ready for school – Mark went in to work late, and we all cycled to preschool together. He asked us to wait for 5 minutes, but was then happy to let us go.
Last seen playing by himself, I am hopeful that he will make friends and that he will come home looking forward to going again tomorrow. Waiting till 3.30pm to find out how is is doing is so hard!
Now, on to Chad…
Frog Chops 1, 2, and 3, bathing
Today, my babies should have been turning one. We didn’t celebrate, didn’t visit the cemetery, and I didn’t collapse into an alcoholic stupor.
Because, I’m pregnant.
I want to write “it looks like I am pregnant”, or, “I might be pregnant”. But the pee on the stick doesn’t lie. It doesn’t guarantee anything. But for the past three days (since the day my period was due), there have been two little pink lines of the stick. Very faint on the first day, but getting stronger day by day.
And there are a shedload of things that can, and probably will go wrong. At this point I am approximately 4 weeks and one day along. Something like 50% of pregnancies miscarry withing the first trimester – before 12 weeks. Conventional wisdom says that you shouldn’t announce a pregnancy until after this “danger period” has passed.
But hey, I was well out of my first trimester when things went pear shaped during my pregnancy with the twins. Aubrey was 19 weeks when he died. Archimedes was well past “viability” when he was born.
Crazy, terrible, devastating things happen during pregnancy, and there is no magic “safe” time. Your baby can die during labour, or you can have her for three years and have her die in her sleep. I have lost the comfort of believing that these things don’t happen, or that they happen to “other people”.
I am now the living embodiment of that horrible warning. The woman with the dead babies. The one that you don’t quite know what to say to. And that is ok – “I don’t know what to say” is a perfectly acceptable thing to say.
So the announcement is coming now for two reasons.
1. I am not your gorgeous glowing pregnant woman. I get really tired, really nauseous, and I find it really hard to stay cheerful and hide my symptoms in public. And this time there is one other symptom that I will be unable to hide. The all consuming terror. The countdown to early September (if we make it) will be glacial. Every hour, every twinge, every cramp, every visit to the toilet will be, in my mind, a harbinger of doom. It’s hard to live a normal life when you feel like that.
2. If this goes pear shaped, I will need people to know. Miscarriage is such a private thing, rarely discussed, usually hidden and secret. Baby loss used to be the same way, whispered about, but never discussed openly.
And that just isn’t my style.
Tonight, Inigo fell asleep listening to the first chapter of “The Hobbit”. My dad read it to my brother and I when I was about 4, and I figured he was ready to encounter long form stories.
We started with a CD collection of Enid Blyton stories read by Kate Winslet in the car, he was enthralled.
It’s so great to have a kid that appreciates the finer things in life
Some people have Godparents, some have Fairly Odd Parents, and now Aurore and Freya have “Spare Parents” – Mark and I!
Today Bonnie and Zenia asked us if we would accept the position, and I immediately burst into tears. Not only are Frog Chops 1 and Frog Chops 2 (Inigo has earned the moniker Frog Chops 3) two of the most adorable, sparkly eyed, feisty, clever and captivating children you could hope to meet, their parents are very special people too.
Inigo still has three of his original four “Odd Parents” who take an active role in his life, and I know the care and consideration we put in to selecting those people – people that we hoped would be a part of his life as he grew up, people that he would be able to turn to no matter what. People that would love him unconditionally, people that would be there for him if ever we couldn’t be.
It’s a special job. A sacred job. One that I am honoured to do. And feel very lucky to have the opportunity.
We went to the post office to pick up some shopping – a new t-shirt that says Awesome in groovy 70s lettering. So of course he had to wear it today
