tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84883466673542892162024-02-07T22:17:54.009-08:00When You Can't Have KidsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger166125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-71899782699121157272017-09-06T23:42:00.000-07:002017-09-06T23:42:08.662-07:00The fog hasn't lifted...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Lately I feel like I’ve been
wearing a mask…I put on the happy and confident face when I’m out in public.
Sometimes I am actually happy and confident – so I fit the mask – but mostly I’m
not.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Why?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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In the past few months some
events have occurred and some issues have arisen that have floored me in terms
of my self esteem and self worth. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me especially,
because this is just the way it is at the moment, and I will get through it,
and many people have far worse things to deal with than I do.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am going to share what’s going
on though – because I want you to know that times like this happen to me and to
everyone, and it sucks, but it is also a part of life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So, here’s what’s going on:<o:p></o:p></div>
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A few months ago Kirby and I had
a major falling out with one of our dearest friends. It was a complete
communication break down and it has ended up with us not knowing if the friendship
can be saved. I hope that it can be, but I’m not sure it will be. It hasn’t
only been the loss of the friend, but also of her family. She has a husband who
had also become one of our dearest friends, and she has two little girls who we
had become very close to. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s thrown me in a way that I
didn’t know I could be thrown. I feel lost, anxious, confused, hurt, sad, and
wondering just who the hell I am and what my worth is. My motivation has
dissipated – leaving me with little energy (mental or physical) to follow up on
the things that are important to me. Even reading has become too much. And, as
you know, writing this blog just hasn’t happened for a while.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is not our friend’s fault –
she cannot be blamed for the way I am at all. This is just the way my mind and
body is responding at the moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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In addition to this, my endometriosis
has come back with all the associated pain and discomfort. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And I also have fibromyalgia. My
fibro has me feeling like a complete failure. I am sore in all my joints, I can’t
sleep because of the pain, and when I do get to sleep I sleep too much (like
the other day I was up for a whole seven hours!), and the sleep is not
refreshing. Apparently people with fibro don’t get quality sleep because their
brains are wired to be on constant alert – so I can get nine hours of sleep but
it won’t be quality sleep. My brain gets all foggy and I start struggling to
finish sentences when speaking, or I mix up words, or forget a word completely –
like the other day I was talking about succulents, but I couldn’t remember the
word “succulents” – so I said “you know, those plants that take up water and
keep it in their leaves”. For someone who loves words as much as I do this is
very hard to take. My body (my legs in particular) doesn’t seem to do what I want
it to do sometimes – if I want to pick up a pencil I may have to really
concentrate on getting my fingers to move in the right way to pick it up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve tried all sorts of ways to
address the symptoms of the fibro, but unfortunately there doesn’t seem to be
any agreement on the best method or therapy among different professionals. So,
that probably means a journey of trial and error until I find something that
works, if I ever do. And to be honest, I feel too tired to bother at the
moment. After all: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul>
<li>in my childhood it was trying to
find a way to stop me wetting the bed</li>
<li>in my teens it was trying to find
a way to stop having heavy, painful periods</li>
<li>in my twenties it was trying to
find a way to deal with depression, anxiety, and OCD</li>
<li>in my thirties it was trying to
find a way to deal with epilepsy, and to overcome infertility</li>
<li>and, now, in my forties it’s
fibromyalgia…</li>
</ul>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p>I’m tired of having to try and
find out how to deal with something every damn decade of my life – at least at
the moment I am. I know that my inner strength will come back and I will
unleash my inner wolf again…I have to. What’s the alternative? I give up? That’s
not me.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Then, I can’t help thinking about
what our kids might have been like. Hayley would have been 19 this year, and
Jacob and/or Ruby 8 this month. How do I let them go? They are so real to me. How
do I get to a point where I no longer think about “what if” they had been born?
I guess I won’t…I know this in my heart, but sometimes I just wish I could have
an operation or something that would make me forget that I ever wanted
children. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I feel like a failure. I wasn’t
able to have children, I don’t feel productive due to having depression,
anxiety, and fibromyalgia, and I feel like I am letting everyone who cares
about me down. I know that the people who care about me don’t see it this way,
but I do. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My lack of self-esteem is killing
me. I’m not writing, I’m not walking – I’m putting on a good show of being
okay, but I don’t feel it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’m not depressed – I know that –
but the fog is heavy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t know – maybe I’m
depending too much on the fog to lift on its own, but instead I should be
walking, in any direction, to see if I can find a way out of it. Maybe it’s a
little bit of both – the fog and I both have to do something to get me out of
it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Well – that’s where I’m at at the
moment. Hopefully next entry will be a more uplifting one.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-41368491924777568092017-08-26T23:08:00.000-07:002017-08-26T23:08:50.369-07:00Life and all it brings...Hi everyone,<br />
<br />
These past few months have been a real struggle on many fronts and as such I haven't written a blog entry for quite some time.<br />
<br />
I've also failed to respond to some messages sent to me directly via my email - and for this I apologise. I hope I have now responded to everyone, but if you have messaged me and I haven't, please contact me again.<br />
<br />
I do care very much for each and everyone of you - we are sisters (and I'm sure some brothers are out there too!) in this reality that we are facing - it's just been a really tough time for me lately and I've had to take some time out from many things.<br />
<br />
I'll be writing a blog entry later this week.<br />
<br />
Kate xxxUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-35788622220600103412017-07-02T23:30:00.000-07:002017-07-02T23:30:17.234-07:00The fog...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I’ve been in a bit of
a grey place lately. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Things are getting
better and there have been some adventures (such as a trip to Thailand) recently,
but I still find that the grey is around me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I think all of us go
through this from time to time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve written the
following poem as a way to understand where I am at the moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Something is amiss<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>My world is dimming<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>For fog has appeared again<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Slinking into existence<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>And wrapping up my spirit<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>In cold bondage<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>So, what?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>What can I do?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>How can I grovel my way clear<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>When I do not know<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Where the fog ends and I begin?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>When I do not know<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Where clarity lives?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Perhaps that is the point of it<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>I am not meant to know these
things<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Instead I must simply give in to
it<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Let the fog sort me out<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>With its wisps and subtle
movements<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>With its greyness and its sighs<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>No need to struggle<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Gently soothe the screams in my
heart<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>And distil the cries perched on
my lips<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Calmly sit within the fog a while<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Wait to see what it is<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>That the fog is gifting me<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>And see what it is that is left<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
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<i>When the fog has gone again</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-6636506785378906722017-05-13T23:07:00.001-07:002017-05-13T23:08:15.823-07:00Felix...This past week has been very traumatic and difficult. Our beautiful 14 year old cat Felix became very ill and he was suffering.<br />
<br />
On Friday he passed away by euthanasia with Kirby and me by his side.<br />
<br />
We're still in shock.<br />
<br />
I'll write more about him in the next couple of entries.<br />
<br />
Today is Mother's Day...I miss our boy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFoVVOrlgb0qj2o708SO5mBWeQEIOPQLnJsB8uHUwAG2wozHVwgs2F8kH6-J5NPGv_S83bVFMWGWSwcjw7iqyDT-4Cv-u_CRqRgLIV7Ft57AzHsrtZTpuYIPoQ55iobcf9g6mmzGXH_g/s1600/DSC_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFoVVOrlgb0qj2o708SO5mBWeQEIOPQLnJsB8uHUwAG2wozHVwgs2F8kH6-J5NPGv_S83bVFMWGWSwcjw7iqyDT-4Cv-u_CRqRgLIV7Ft57AzHsrtZTpuYIPoQ55iobcf9g6mmzGXH_g/s320/DSC_0067.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-70138089493114554352017-05-08T17:13:00.000-07:002017-05-08T17:13:44.764-07:00Mother's Day<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
It’s been a while yet
again! I’ve been in a bit of a fog for the past few months, which I’ll write
about in the next entry.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On Sunday, in
Australia, it will be Mother’s Day. Along with this day will come all the familiar
thoughts and emotions that those of us who can’t have children often encounter.
The grief and sorrow, and even bitterness sometimes, and the “why not me?” and “what
did I do wrong?”. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Last year I met one
of my friends, who also can’t have children, for lunch. She said to me that one
of the hardest parts for her is the messages that accompany Mother’s Day that
suggest children choose their parents. For example, “thank you for choosing me
to be your Mum.” It sounds like a lovely sentiment – but there is a definite
sting in there for us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As my friend said, it
implies that there are children who looked at us and went “Nup – not good
enough – I’ll head over to the drugged up, abusive couple down the road thank
you very much.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Or, perhaps even more
difficult to fathom, the children who did come along, but didn’t stay due to miscarriage,
picked us but then changed their minds. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This really hurts. It
really, really hurts to think about.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Am I saying that
people shouldn’t write this type of message on their Facebook walls? By no
means. They should if this is what they want to do. All I’m asking is to be
aware that friends and/or family members who can’t have children might find it
difficult to read these kinds of sayings, and when they do they may feel their
hearts break a little for the millionth time.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Be aware and be
sensitive, as it’s a hard enough day for us as it is.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-2216818116134352432017-03-05T17:31:00.001-08:002017-03-05T17:32:09.328-08:00Hayley...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
In my entry on the <a href="http://whenyoucanthavekids.blogspot.com.au/2017/01/revisiting-secret.html" target="_blank">31stof January</a> I mentioned Hayley, and that I wasn’t quite ready to write about
her. In the last week something happened that brought her back into my mind and
I want you to know about her now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What happened last
week was in the Adelaide Railway Station. A man was yelling at a woman because
she was having difficulty using the ticket machine (which I, myself, have found
confusing at times). He called her a “f**king idiot” and “bloody stupid” etc.
My rage skyrocketed and I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing and
told him not to talk to her like that. He scurried off like the low-life
creature he was. Sadly, despite the railway station being reasonably busy, I was
the only one that spoke up. What a society we live in!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well – this incident brought
back memories and emotions that I haven’t felt in years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In 1998 I was in an extremely
unhealthy relationship. Many things happened in that relationship that made me
feel humiliated and degraded, including being talked to like that man spoke to
the woman. It was tough to get my confidence and sense of self back, and it surprised
me how easily I slipped back into feeling those old “I’m no good, I really am
stupid” thoughts and emotions again. Other things happened in the relationship
that I would rather not write about as they are too personal, but I am facing
them now and I believe I will become stronger through that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the hardest
things in the relationship was when I had a very early miscarriage. I was only about
six weeks along and I never had a pregnancy test, but I knew. My period was late
(and it never was) and other signs were there. Then she left. I don’t really
know if the baby would have been a girl, but I felt like she would have been, and
I would have called her Hayley. She would have been nineteen years old next
month.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When I told the “man”
I was in a relationship with about the miscarriage, his response was along the
lines of “well, it’s lucky you lost it.” Even now thinking about those words
stings my heart. She would have been his child and he had no love at all for her.
Wow! <o:p></o:p></div>
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To cope with this, as
I did often then, and still do sometimes now, I wrote a poem for Hayley.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Whisper<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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A whisper on the whisper of the
breeze<o:p></o:p></div>
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Through my body<o:p></o:p></div>
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Changes as ancient as the sea of
time<o:p></o:p></div>
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Announced your presence<o:p></o:p></div>
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Within a heartbeat<o:p></o:p></div>
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I knew you<o:p></o:p></div>
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I loved you<o:p></o:p></div>
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I dreamed forward to the day<o:p></o:p></div>
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That my arms would hold you<o:p></o:p></div>
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I did not know<o:p></o:p></div>
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That you could not stay<o:p></o:p></div>
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That you would slip away<o:p></o:p></div>
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Almost unnoticed <o:p></o:p></div>
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Except that I felt you<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dancing with my body<o:p></o:p></div>
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Taking your part<o:p></o:p></div>
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They say it’s for the best<o:p></o:p></div>
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For the best maybe<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I’ll always wonder <o:p></o:p></div>
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Wonder about you</div>
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My baby</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-78072043628690334642017-02-12T18:10:00.000-08:002017-02-12T18:10:36.486-08:00A cute video...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week’s blog post
is a bit of a cheat one, as I won’t be writing much.<o:p></o:p></div>
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There’s a YouTube channel
called “Cole and Marmalade” which is well worth a watch for a giggle as well as
for really good information on cats and cat rescue. Cole and Marmalade are
adorable and their parents are pretty good too!<o:p></o:p></div>
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I saw a video the
other day about why cat mums (moms) are awesome (or pawsome!).<o:p></o:p></div>
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It made me smile, and
get a bit teary too. It’s how I feel about my two cats, and my dog as well of
course! And, okay, my four fish…though it’s a little bit different with them as
snuggling with them is not really an option…<o:p></o:p></div>
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For all us fur-mums
(and dads), especially those who couldn’t have human kids… <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5HztoTQ9EU" target="_blank">Why Cat Moms are Pawsome</a></div>
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And here’s the link
to the “Cole and Marmalade” website…</div>
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<a href="https://shop.coleandmarmalade.com/" target="_blank">Cole and Marmalade</a></div>
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And here are our fur-babies...</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigBYyxQo1CXCi8QphyphenhyphenyFgM9Enr1r8p02WYSyhj_mnIE2H7neNSd22aNxjxatBHclJJSbLYyqTUuoMyhTsTGrDOBJ9t_F0dPCZIxlNds5SWzP44zGhyhRI3gWmHuWQNDOPunqSoKJK6zGs/s1600/Odi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigBYyxQo1CXCi8QphyphenhyphenyFgM9Enr1r8p02WYSyhj_mnIE2H7neNSd22aNxjxatBHclJJSbLYyqTUuoMyhTsTGrDOBJ9t_F0dPCZIxlNds5SWzP44zGhyhRI3gWmHuWQNDOPunqSoKJK6zGs/s200/Odi.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Odi getting yet another toy...</td></tr>
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<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrYyy5YkLsCpPIbzdk0U0YVPAfKw3ns3MS7YrJlIvp07PtGrQpdcCUK_NUPNwDN4D36Al_u60D_WkQsLg_Ch51pYRPH-EvCWPhzAsmHWf5Y3P7oKcG685eOqy4LaC5mVRg4BzHuNT6DA/s1600/Felix.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrYyy5YkLsCpPIbzdk0U0YVPAfKw3ns3MS7YrJlIvp07PtGrQpdcCUK_NUPNwDN4D36Al_u60D_WkQsLg_Ch51pYRPH-EvCWPhzAsmHWf5Y3P7oKcG685eOqy4LaC5mVRg4BzHuNT6DA/s200/Felix.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Felix reckons Mum gives the best cuddles...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSN-mSTsz-EwTRVgfUUwI61q_WmLCAJwGMpWe2Akl6r8kaOrnbwjHjz0BEzj_iZ8BTvYhaBX9-nmNLI7AafVSFKWw0VVpdrZ5G_XMuSSW3t24GSsCMQlyKVe_iXg0TwDQ4Bcp4HWJIubw/s1600/Frankie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSN-mSTsz-EwTRVgfUUwI61q_WmLCAJwGMpWe2Akl6r8kaOrnbwjHjz0BEzj_iZ8BTvYhaBX9-nmNLI7AafVSFKWw0VVpdrZ5G_XMuSSW3t24GSsCMQlyKVe_iXg0TwDQ4Bcp4HWJIubw/s200/Frankie.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frankie hinting that I should be paying her attention...</td></tr>
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<br /><br /><b>And our angel fur-babies...</b><div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQp8eJ_95kDYvCXs90L8cdwEky6RMVyaD43WbMDpLt4Ah2T6nWMz1gl_B-xafEqRwvj2MwHHeOtAijxVymDqHbOIun4DCjm_8FeKfBy-6qzNqjZj9WigkL0qpNqy_Exhk32ETBhVYz7w/s1600/Ari.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQp8eJ_95kDYvCXs90L8cdwEky6RMVyaD43WbMDpLt4Ah2T6nWMz1gl_B-xafEqRwvj2MwHHeOtAijxVymDqHbOIun4DCjm_8FeKfBy-6qzNqjZj9WigkL0qpNqy_Exhk32ETBhVYz7w/s200/Ari.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ari was only a little dog...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjdV3nvb7abuRWflAKJ_XkIoX32PZi15v3CxI18TKOHBqBfH1vnZaCtNdaRAf3gxno3LYYCGI2EJT7rCU8owlKHntZtlNAgwNzTJsFvTH75-INaOf1-CtlWZ_d8jvIeWJy4QPunR84U4/s1600/Min.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjdV3nvb7abuRWflAKJ_XkIoX32PZi15v3CxI18TKOHBqBfH1vnZaCtNdaRAf3gxno3LYYCGI2EJT7rCU8owlKHntZtlNAgwNzTJsFvTH75-INaOf1-CtlWZ_d8jvIeWJy4QPunR84U4/s200/Min.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minerva's favourite perch from when she was a kitten..</td></tr>
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</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-81096373985556647342017-01-31T15:40:00.000-08:002017-01-31T15:40:17.972-08:00Revisiting the secret...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Before I start this
entry I want to make a clarification regarding last week’s post. It’s true that
people with children will generally spend more time with people who also have
children, but there is nothing really wrong with that. It’s actually to be
expected. People who share common interests do tend to hang out together – and
having children is a huge common interest. It is also so important for parents
to have that base on which they can gain support from people in a similar
situation. Not that we who don’t have children can’t provide support to parents
– it’s just that it will be a different kind of support. As a really simplified
analogy – you can go and cheer on a soccer team without playing soccer and have
some idea of what the players are going through, but the team members on the
field will be the ones who really get the game.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now that’s clarified –
let’s get on with this week’s entry.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve recently come
across a book by <a href="http://www.jessicasepel.com/" target="_blank">Jessica Sepel</a> called “The Healthy Life”. It is an absolutely
fabulous book in terms of gaining knowledge about all different areas of
health, including fitness and nutrition of course, but also regarding being gentler
with oneself, forgiving oneself, and being more compassionate toward oneself.
It also has a great section on sleep – which has been an eye opener for me – or
should that be eye closer? (Please excuse that really lame attempt at a joke! <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>).<o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the sections
is about drawing what you want, in terms of your dreams, to you through mantras,
belief, vision boards, etc. It’s kind of like “The Secret”. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now – if you’re a
regular reader you will already know that I have a massive aversion to anything
to do with the law of attraction. I don’t believe it is as simple as that. This
is especially true given I had every expectation I would have children to the
point that I had their nursery worked out in my head, had collected samples of
paint and material, had saved a picture of a gorgeous wall border, and even had
clothes put away ready for them when they arrived. If that’s not belief and
vision and so forth, then I don’t know what is! Yet – my beautiful babies,
whether they had been Ruby, Jacob, or my Hayley (who would have been nineteen
this year – I haven’t written much about
her, but I will one day – I’m not quite ready at this point) never arrived.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Despite the
marvellous insights I gained from the rest of Jess’s book I was going to skip
the entire section on living the life of my dreams. But, I thought what have I
got to lose?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m glad I read it.
While I still don’t believe that getting what you want is as simple as
believing you are worthy of what you want, envisioning it, and working towards
it, I have had insights into where I am and have been that I wouldn’t have had
otherwise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I sat down with a cup
of tea, and with my pencil to highlight different parts of the section that
interested me, and I began to read. Soon I was in tears.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What was it that struck
me so? <o:p></o:p></div>
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I realised that I’d
gone to the extreme of not believing I could have anything I wanted. I didn’t
believe that I was actually worthy of achieving anything – especially regarding
my dream of being a science fiction writer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After all, I can’t do
what comes naturally to most other women – I can’t do the simple thing of
carrying and giving birth to a child. If I can’t do that, then how could I believe
that I could do anything else in my life? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Losing our precious
dog, Ari, last year added to this hurt and subconscious thought. I didn’t recognise
that he was so sick, I told myself time and time again that I should have. He
was my boy, and I let him down. Even though in reality I know that I did
everything I could and nobody could have picked up how sick he was – even the
vet. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was a failure. So,
why dream big?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was useless. So,
why should I even think I deserve to have anything I want?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve been pushing my
writing away by making every excuse under the sun – and finding other things
that need to be done urgently (like doing the dishes or cleaning the toilet or
watching that episode of Brooklyn 99 for the tenth time (though it is a good
show! Great for a giggle!)). <o:p></o:p></div>
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I need to step away
from the extreme of assuming I can’t, and move a little toward believing that
maybe I can. Why not? Where is the harm in having a vision board or repeating
mantras if it’s going to put me in the right frame of mind where I might make
it to be a full time science fiction writer? Where is the harm in believing I can
create a beautiful garden to surround our home? Where is the harm in believing
I can snorkel, cage dive with white pointers (yes that is on the list!),
travel, and have many adventures? Where is the harm in believing in myself?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am really thankful
to Jess. She’s brought me to a point where I am much more compassionate with
myself, and this has allowed me to think about who I am and what stirs my heart
and soul, and to start to remove the self-judgement that I’m no good.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I might not make it,
but I am now in a frame of mind where I believe more in myself – and surely
that can’t be a bad thing.</div>
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So, thank you <a href="http://www.jessicasepel.com/" target="_blank">Jess</a>!</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-15898622296437451812017-01-25T18:54:00.000-08:002017-01-25T18:54:41.435-08:00Port Lincoln...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Well – haven’t I been
a slacker!<o:p></o:p></div>
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It seems some months
have passed since I’ve written a blog entry. I could come up with lots of
excuses – such as it was Christmas and I’ve been adjusting my diet to help
combat my fibromyalgia (which is helping – yay!) etc. But I’m not going to. I’m
just going to get on with this entry!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Between Christmas and
New Year, Kirby and I travelled with our friends to <a href="http://www.visitportlincoln.net/" target="_blank">Port Lincoln</a> for three
nights. The purpose of our trip? To go out on a boat with <a href="http://adventurebaycharters.com.au/marine-adventure-tours/swim-with-sea-lions/" target="_blank">Adventure Bay Charters</a> to swim with sea lions. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BkeVCVn8RsEa07atuTJdYCelmr_gSBtQMMC8eqiDrbsNewC7472rq45CT-GFnBl2tSkFiUH7xznkVdztNlh_LzMnN8OHsQxLKD-pEOIMzRD0eJxy1GDvH0M-2-OZG_YFc1G1RimzHKo/s200/15727282_10211990551738380_465864555953144850_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travelling on the boat to the seal lions</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQwN5NLEbNmOAv-RnlPby78NyjlnSDlt8tSF177B2O_YG95BGlVxSfGSOci32ydF2FD6lyn4yuPPeavYQZ29tcffTeu5xx2-n5S6f7lybA2vzIfuaoisZk59p-_dcH5kOEXEgm13X8Ho/s200/15822801_10211990553098414_635093018895195947_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dolphins joined us for part of the journey</td></tr>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BkeVCVn8RsEa07atuTJdYCelmr_gSBtQMMC8eqiDrbsNewC7472rq45CT-GFnBl2tSkFiUH7xznkVdztNlh_LzMnN8OHsQxLKD-pEOIMzRD0eJxy1GDvH0M-2-OZG_YFc1G1RimzHKo/s1600/15727282_10211990551738380_465864555953144850_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQwN5NLEbNmOAv-RnlPby78NyjlnSDlt8tSF177B2O_YG95BGlVxSfGSOci32ydF2FD6lyn4yuPPeavYQZ29tcffTeu5xx2-n5S6f7lybA2vzIfuaoisZk59p-_dcH5kOEXEgm13X8Ho/s1600/15822801_10211990553098414_635093018895195947_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lviRev0r62m1v1uoLVN7ZfXcZJJ4svo0TNQQ_Mz2_GSQtVcAJ8f5x8LbAv1VJpqU8CtSwRpVWsVm6n6XRL32KKPORJH5n4M9JwYXzY8rOAO7lZdlhaqvEZ1aySGMul3HY63qffIW5G0/s1600/15781322_10211990547578276_1154960761562940348_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lviRev0r62m1v1uoLVN7ZfXcZJJ4svo0TNQQ_Mz2_GSQtVcAJ8f5x8LbAv1VJpqU8CtSwRpVWsVm6n6XRL32KKPORJH5n4M9JwYXzY8rOAO7lZdlhaqvEZ1aySGMul3HY63qffIW5G0/s200/15781322_10211990547578276_1154960761562940348_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and one of our friends in the water</td></tr>
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It was absolutely
brilliant! Sea lions are endangered – there are only 10000 left – so swimming
with them was a real honour.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vuXghY1zRrlCtx0Lyl74G2mrIUSBJ9KmsyQpKXyo3r_c9UNPxIfOKBTytoGAKik51npPHFacIRA7P26M41ITa3ElBAi5G_zuWrkp5ynFdY1QrT11i0qwxjFgTPKn8ZCOHuY_IP66sV4/s1600/15781653_10211990554898459_7674650545844193947_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vuXghY1zRrlCtx0Lyl74G2mrIUSBJ9KmsyQpKXyo3r_c9UNPxIfOKBTytoGAKik51npPHFacIRA7P26M41ITa3ElBAi5G_zuWrkp5ynFdY1QrT11i0qwxjFgTPKn8ZCOHuY_IP66sV4/s200/15781653_10211990554898459_7674650545844193947_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sea lions lazing around</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMy0rrswx0uUCS7spzA_6yf2eHyEVw1saLaR2PqGNWA0khy0tEeqXjRfDa-EEpi_kXTdKDLhWL0T2QVZ0rEtSUkw0dj3x1fgxvNvy6_pqen3xi9SStBXEPsnpDttUzR6Me_S1p7konDE/s1600/15726872_10211990547058263_5752995520142733921_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMy0rrswx0uUCS7spzA_6yf2eHyEVw1saLaR2PqGNWA0khy0tEeqXjRfDa-EEpi_kXTdKDLhWL0T2QVZ0rEtSUkw0dj3x1fgxvNvy6_pqen3xi9SStBXEPsnpDttUzR6Me_S1p7konDE/s200/15726872_10211990547058263_5752995520142733921_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the water</td></tr>
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I also loved the way
the crew of the boat we went on to where the sea lions live were very
respectful of the sea lions. We were not allowed to approach them, but rather we
were to wait until, and if, they came up to us – which made it all the more special when they
did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sea lions are so
playful and cheeky! One of the crew put a floating line as a guide to where we
were allowed to swim – one of the sea lions grabbed one of the floats and took
it down to the ocean bottom (it was shallow water) and proceeded to lie on it!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HCcRmYvhZw6qNsoJQq4bNEi0lupHuDn5Zw-dKKJmIAzCBdArQpYP9O39A48xuPea_GtKt-y95zpd7SfHPWC_3GL4fILWVYml4WLo7lwDysscH0PvthrCbe173HEsmsvqzcv77-vmMAU/s1600/15747377_10211990543058163_4171839881074651218_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HCcRmYvhZw6qNsoJQq4bNEi0lupHuDn5Zw-dKKJmIAzCBdArQpYP9O39A48xuPea_GtKt-y95zpd7SfHPWC_3GL4fILWVYml4WLo7lwDysscH0PvthrCbe173HEsmsvqzcv77-vmMAU/s200/15747377_10211990543058163_4171839881074651218_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look what I can do!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6PtutEowGRW33U7nBuT3YfNBdzM5nWB9I4p1mBSNTph5PrDQkNjI-LKOQT0WMJYYOopPysn3QiY_iyIWu7KJSMuu7H4LByK5kE0RqlG1p1w77SZ-hQHYlfEWFx-sLNRwZBv2nfPiZM0/s1600/15822857_10211990542618152_3713084106155213842_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6PtutEowGRW33U7nBuT3YfNBdzM5nWB9I4p1mBSNTph5PrDQkNjI-LKOQT0WMJYYOopPysn3QiY_iyIWu7KJSMuu7H4LByK5kE0RqlG1p1w77SZ-hQHYlfEWFx-sLNRwZBv2nfPiZM0/s200/15822857_10211990542618152_3713084106155213842_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't see me!!</td></tr>
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While we were in Port
Lincoln we also visited <a href="https://www.environment.sa.gov.au/parks/Find_a_Park/Browse_by_region/Eyre_Peninsula/coffin-bay-national-park" target="_blank">Coffin Bay National Park</a>, where we were fortunate to see an emu and his
chicks (yes – the Dad takes on the child rearing responsibilities!), New
Zealand fur seals playing, and a kangaroo. The beaches were so wide and white,
and the water so clear. It was stunning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81zqKMYyAJPwkoo6hEKFIWKZo0DV0rMdkN1rCY1-LOcg2dOrqTgThZV7iSE8DrXrK3QSrc54w0ShodEaI-fUrfPC-Q0IC0LbiCEnbC-X1vzbTuKTLBdA79eFx-AlnuTpo6S91gSNlaWY/s1600/15747475_10211989910242343_8326361932890790578_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81zqKMYyAJPwkoo6hEKFIWKZo0DV0rMdkN1rCY1-LOcg2dOrqTgThZV7iSE8DrXrK3QSrc54w0ShodEaI-fUrfPC-Q0IC0LbiCEnbC-X1vzbTuKTLBdA79eFx-AlnuTpo6S91gSNlaWY/s200/15747475_10211989910242343_8326361932890790578_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby emus with their Dad</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzgsYgLe8h-W-pdd66IBBPfd1Se3a5cSbCxG_-FgRscWO6JteQxWpR9t9hlGAepR00h7tyAyaHHVWO8mck7z9kD3Hwk1vAg_OmDgDmw52q6-DQI-blvqBfWMZmXvqJPyLlne9r9hwPvY/s1600/15780816_10211989898322045_2454260472218741044_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzgsYgLe8h-W-pdd66IBBPfd1Se3a5cSbCxG_-FgRscWO6JteQxWpR9t9hlGAepR00h7tyAyaHHVWO8mck7z9kD3Hwk1vAg_OmDgDmw52q6-DQI-blvqBfWMZmXvqJPyLlne9r9hwPvY/s200/15780816_10211989898322045_2454260472218741044_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving life!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYTBmLXO27JCSZ5fXde1-iNC6mKRnBSXscpThz-3OGFBjoYaJdxcZ0OGXeIa5zwUAZCi17TgSOOdryMR5_QrzH0EMdK-W-EP9EOKx_dNVvhABurOF_xwyDitMlYUtHifDsIWuQCicolw/s1600/15781030_10211989907082264_7309476961920414030_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYTBmLXO27JCSZ5fXde1-iNC6mKRnBSXscpThz-3OGFBjoYaJdxcZ0OGXeIa5zwUAZCi17TgSOOdryMR5_QrzH0EMdK-W-EP9EOKx_dNVvhABurOF_xwyDitMlYUtHifDsIWuQCicolw/s200/15781030_10211989907082264_7309476961920414030_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful remote beaches</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXC65wiMxWIim5ukR7kBGvVwWEOkXf49edafSq59BbYDCg_YGR9Eg12NeUxt82-b9f0W8_KIQq7F47aF8BngQuJlcRzIy7KsimrNbWseVEXlCNypuJ0dYrrtb9TmZrJOD6UC3EaWftMhE/s1600/15823596_10211989908402297_9129557314039792078_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXC65wiMxWIim5ukR7kBGvVwWEOkXf49edafSq59BbYDCg_YGR9Eg12NeUxt82-b9f0W8_KIQq7F47aF8BngQuJlcRzIy7KsimrNbWseVEXlCNypuJ0dYrrtb9TmZrJOD6UC3EaWftMhE/s200/15823596_10211989908402297_9129557314039792078_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kangaroos camouflage so well! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhW4w4dTCzLFyipfJEveKQxODC4zWdJLktQvJVMwbF0WZyu2xqXbPpLegv2_CWFanzyVW0N1SMrkHubd3K-OPcAX5dcfcJh8WnSDEM_FNZVv9ckPLxZJHsQ3lx3hXq7YFmN2MUIOPu-Q/s1600/DSC_0368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhW4w4dTCzLFyipfJEveKQxODC4zWdJLktQvJVMwbF0WZyu2xqXbPpLegv2_CWFanzyVW0N1SMrkHubd3K-OPcAX5dcfcJh8WnSDEM_FNZVv9ckPLxZJHsQ3lx3hXq7YFmN2MUIOPu-Q/s200/DSC_0368.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fur seals playing...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRT6xXEZOdB6bt0H6UGxhyTLHf7EqYNTsEx8gOHXHtuXGvz3gKV33xClEoyvwFA50pF9ZaZfEoZnMJT279m4SKSGYCdR2A_QIFeq0LXM2qsdX78vuAr6yaqGmxjVkzPEnO8fa_lWf6Sik/s1600/15825736_10211989903722180_3389841935843392598_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRT6xXEZOdB6bt0H6UGxhyTLHf7EqYNTsEx8gOHXHtuXGvz3gKV33xClEoyvwFA50pF9ZaZfEoZnMJT279m4SKSGYCdR2A_QIFeq0LXM2qsdX78vuAr6yaqGmxjVkzPEnO8fa_lWf6Sik/s200/15825736_10211989903722180_3389841935843392598_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ferocity of the ocean</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I’m writing about
this holiday for a couple of reasons – aside from the fact that it was awesome.
And those reasons relate to the fact that we couldn’t, and don’t, have
children.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJabFYBJbNOTgT0O7LhJoWQx4db_536FnfG9FWylgKdhNuTKAMujy0GCN9hVip4hiwWHVw73TBrqkZPovS32qWVn55CVDkD5cRCpn5TUeHGT4cwoWpR_5ab6XqOi_b5wpaundmkPrSTI/s1600/20161229_192513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJabFYBJbNOTgT0O7LhJoWQx4db_536FnfG9FWylgKdhNuTKAMujy0GCN9hVip4hiwWHVw73TBrqkZPovS32qWVn55CVDkD5cRCpn5TUeHGT4cwoWpR_5ab6XqOi_b5wpaundmkPrSTI/s200/20161229_192513.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our balcony at the <a href="http://www.portlincolnhotel.com.au/" target="_blank">Port Lincoln Hotel</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
The first is that our
friends are in their early twenties – and we are in our early forties. It’s
quite an age gap and yet we are good friends and we get along so well. The
truth is that if we had children it is less likely that we would spend as much
time with these friends, if any, because we would be mixing in quite different
circles. People with kids tend to mix with other people with kids – and are
less likely to mix with people from very different age groups. Lately Kirby and
I have been looking more at what we do have in life, instead of what we don’t,
and these friends are part of what we have – and they are a blessing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
The second is that we
could just go away. We can go away, work permitting, any time we like. We don’t
have to think about school holidays or making sure that the activities we do
are kid-friendly. Kirby and I can take off on the weekend, or even just for a
day, and do what we want. Of course, we have our fur-kids to think of – but
they are so adorable that I think we’ll have to start a raffle with the winner
being the one to look after them next!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Lastly – life is
getting better. I still get sad about not having children – but what we have is
amazing. Kirby and I have changed in the last year. It’s taken a while, but we
have become more aware that we have a life well worth living and that we
shouldn’t waste. It doesn’t mean we don’t feel a sense of missing our children
though – that will never go away. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Kirby and I are
spending more time with friends and family, going out to different places, and
enjoying life. We even spent Christmas Eve putting together Lego – Kirby had a
car and I put together Rey’s speeder from Star Wars: The Force Awakens! If
that’s not geeky I don’t know what is!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Life – dance, play,
work, laugh, love, cry, walk, see friends, listen to music, feel angry, do
something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
It’s too precious not
to.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-73409850765545463342016-12-04T23:16:00.000-08:002016-12-04T23:16:24.221-08:00A letter to her child...<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The following is from one of my readers - a beautiful letter to her child...</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Dear baby,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I've wanted you for
what seems like forever, I dream of holding you and feeling your warmth. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
You have no idea how
badly I want to create you. To be a mother, I want you more than I can take...
more feeling than it is possibly to feel. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
It's almost like a
need, a need for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
To feel you move like
butterflies, to feel you kick inside me, to feel ethereal, dreamlike,
unbelievable to thing I could grow life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I want to feel the
pain of you getting bigger inside me, the weight of you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I want you to grow
and grow like a butterfly in a cocoon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
To see the plus sign
on a test, to squeal with glee, to hug my fiancé and see the amazed look in his
eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
To cry over the joy,
the adventure, the possibility that will be your life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I can draw, paint,
write and knit, but creating a painting is so much different to having a work
of art, a pure creation made by two in love grow inside you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I envision your tiny
little legs, kicking and squirming, your chubby fingers tight around my thumb,
your beautiful soft skin & perfect eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
We've talked about
you for what feels like eternity, we read books, articles, watched videos about
you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
We planned names like
Damian or Hamish or Olive or Christine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
We planned out your
early years, we planned out everything. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I felt so ready yet
scared and excited, the ovulation tests, pregnancy tests, the baby books, my fiancé’s
mothers handmade clothes, created for his baby. Special for his baby, our baby,
our soon to be universe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I couldn't wait for
you, I was so excited, we were so excited. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I wanted to hear you,
hold you... I wanted you to be mine, which you can never be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I started becoming
more tired, more stressed & in more pain. I wondered is fibromyalgia
genetic? Could my mum have passed it to me and if so, what would happen to our
dream?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I googled it, my
heart didn't just sink, it fell, down & down & down. It spun down like
a penny in a charity coin machine, until it hit the ground with a cold hard
thunk. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
My fiancé was broken,
I was broken. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Months have passed,
he's sold the baby books, hidden his mother’s baby clothes and I have hidden my
pregnancy jumper & sold my ovulation tests. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I sold my pregnancy
journal, the very happy mother to be messaged me urging delivery, so elated and
excited at her pregnancy. I marker penned my name from the 'this book belongs
to section' scrubbing it out, trying to clean to sadness away, the memories. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I stuck a neat white
sticker over it, almost purifying it as if some omen, some sad, angry,
heartbroken entity was being removed or set free. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
My fiancé posted the
book whilst I tried to forget. When I found out fibromyalgia is genetic and
clusters in families. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
My dream died, my
never born baby died with it, I feel stupid to mourn a baby that has never
existed & will never exist but I can't help it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I used to brood over
babies, seeing pregnant women's tummies & children pulled my heartstrings
and made me excited and nervous.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Now when I see a
child, a baby or a pregnant woman. It ruins my day, I see children’s
clothes/socks/blankets & toys in shops & supermarkets.... it makes me
feel sick to my stomach with loss. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Most days I can try
not to think about it and it sort of works, but some days I cry about you, my
never baby. Some nights I stay awake, like right now & I feel sad and
broken. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
I needed to write this
letter to you my never baby, because as I know you won't ever be here I still
love you, I still think of you & I still hold a piece of my heart just for
you and I hope one day that mourning will heal & my heart won't be quite so
fragmented. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
Endless love,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
A lady who dreams of
being your mum.<span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-2840068227176327102016-10-13T16:21:00.003-07:002016-10-13T16:21:38.428-07:00Babies...<div class="MsoNormal">
Apologies again!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve had a few health
issues this past month, plus a work project that I’ve had to focus on, so the
blog has gone on the back burner for a while.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure if you
heard about the storm that happened in South Australia a few weeks back. It was
one of the biggest we’ve seen and ended up with the entire state losing power –
some areas for more than 24 hours.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hospitals and other
emergency services generally have backup generators, and so do IVF clinics.
After all – they have frozen embryos that need to be looked after.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unfortunately one of
the IVF clinics in South Australia lost all power and couldn’t get it back before
they lost all of the frozen embryos. All of them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They have offered free
cycles of IVF for all affected clients.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cried for the
clients and the embryos when I heard this news. I was also very angry. I was
angry at the loss of the embryos, but also because to most people the offer of
another cycle was an acceptable way to make amends.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, the loss of those
embryos, at least to me, is much more than a free cycle could ever compensate
for.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we did our IVF
cycles we got to take home photos of our embryos. We have two photos and I’ve
kept them. I won’t ever part with them. Because they are our children. Had we
lost any embryos in an incident where power failed I would have felt that our
children had died – not just that embryos had been lost that can simply be
replaced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Does that sound weird?
I would have felt that the clinic was being flippant about the loss of our
babies. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What do embryos mean? How
early is it in the cycle to say “they are our children”? For me, our embryos
were our children – especially given they were as close as we ever got to
holding our babies in our arms.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They were never just
embryos to me. In those tiny little beings there were already so many things
that were set – their eye colour, their hair colour, whether they would have
had Kirby’s eyes. Would they have been interested in computers or writing?
Would they have loved animals like I do? We’ll never know, but we’ll always
wonder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnUFRxDRPBGdL85AvOrfjpHO0mw802ZB4ffpfM9YQgL-eV8NsoBqz0q3vSX1mUfk7RCJ7n0FtTukL_yz_qJxsU007pGNFxEx8NZqrFcq4LjoEGyzOLfYDjLmuxCw3WrMncFn3hj_dl3s/s1600/my+babies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnUFRxDRPBGdL85AvOrfjpHO0mw802ZB4ffpfM9YQgL-eV8NsoBqz0q3vSX1mUfk7RCJ7n0FtTukL_yz_qJxsU007pGNFxEx8NZqrFcq4LjoEGyzOLfYDjLmuxCw3WrMncFn3hj_dl3s/s320/my+babies.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our babies...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
No doubt the different
clients of the clinic would be experiencing so many different emotions and
thoughts. For those whom IVF does not work for, will they forever wonder if one
of the embryos that was lost could have been the one? I often wonder about an
embryo that was not put in me because it was not judged as strong enough – could
that have been the one that made it? Again – we’ll never know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All I can say is that
our embryos were the closest to our children that we ever got, and they were a
part of Kirby and a part of me. They were more than simply embryos – so much
more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-8252122961792356272016-09-18T20:00:00.001-07:002016-09-18T20:00:44.253-07:00Wayward wonderings...<div class="MsoNormal">
Sorry about that!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve come back to
writing the blog a little later than I promised. Just after I wrote my little
note on the <a href="http://whenyoucanthavekids.blogspot.com.au/2016/09/apologies.html" target="_blank">4<sup>th</sup> September</a> I got a lovely stomach bug and then a headache
that lasted about a week, and so looking at the computer was limited to work
and not much else!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh – and I said that I
was going to talk about “Stranger Things”, but I got the name wrong. I’m going
to talk about “Wayward Pines” instead. If you haven’t seen it and plan to I
will try not to give any spoilers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The premise of the
show is that a select group of people have been selected to be put in cryostasis
by a particular man who predicts that something bad is going to happen to
humanity. The people are woken up some time later (a long time later) and often
don’t even know that they were put in cryostasis, so they wake up rather
confused.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway – that’s a
pretty all over the place, brief description of the show. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What got me thinking
though, is that one of the key aims of the community of Wayward Pines is to
increase the human population. And anyone who could not produce children was
seen as unnecessary and were…well…I’ll say no more on that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a real commentary
on what is important to humanity. Would it be the case if something happened to
humanity and only a certain number of people could be saved that those unable
to have children would automatically be left behind?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if a brilliant
poet or philosopher or teacher or scientist was unable to have children? Would
they be left behind? Okay – so the scientist may not be as they would have
something to “contribute” – which is another issue altogether on what is valued
in society and what is not.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If Charlotte Bronte,
or Plato, or Degas, or Beethoven, or Confucius were around and couldn’t have
children - would they be left behind? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If the only thing that
is of value when push comes to shove is the ability to procreate, then what would
we lose? Who’s to say that those who can’t have children have nothing to
contribute that is worth saving? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Art has been around as
long as humans have been. Storytelling, music, all of that – crude as it might
have been – were part of early human society. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course it isn’t an either/or
– having a child doesn’t mean you can’t be an artist too!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m getting myself all
confused now. What is the point of this entry?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess my point is
that people are much more than just their ability to procreate, but when it all
boils down, people who can’t procreate are seen as “not as worthy”, not as
valuable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, we are. I say we
are. I say we have a lot to give. We have a lot to give future generations. No matter
what society says.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-82864682356271989432016-09-04T22:26:00.000-07:002016-09-04T22:26:02.735-07:00Apologies...Hi everyone - my apologies for not having posted for almost the last month. It's been a difficult month with not a lot of time for writing...<br />
<br />
I plan to do a post or two later in the week...one will be about "Stranger Things"...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-2001845007860883712016-08-09T21:39:00.002-07:002016-08-09T21:57:38.624-07:00A letter to the clinic...<div class="MsoNormal">
Back in March I wrote a
<a href="http://whenyoucanthavekids.blogspot.com.au/2016/03/the-letter.html" target="_blank">letter to our IVF clinic</a> about my endometriosis and how I felt about the fact
that they didn’t investigate whether I had it or not, and that if they had, and
it had been treated, we may well have our child with us right now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t post it!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The letter was teaming
with anger and name calling…not exactly the most productive way to get the
clinic to understand us and our situation. I meant to write that version of the
letter exactly as I did as I needed to vent completely before I could write a
letter that could actually be sent to the clinic.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have written that
letter now and emailed it to them last week. It’s below for you to read if you
wish - just double click on the picture to open it so that you can actually read it!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh – and to date – I have
heard nothing from the clinic…not even an acknowledgement that they have received
the letter and that it will be given to the person to whom it was addressed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wait with
anticipation as to what they will say…if they reply that is!<br />
<br />
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuzl28OOzMRuw7vfWIhf8zFGNMFD2gTJP0MAr7AnXMpHa0SaOnvSUW-AuzCWBEdCC_dcx7bOvta3Xtn9lcSDsEV4HdvEh8IPmjipKYoIzZ0TIVsKjLsnFRanO35A_9YqOY6zsyemWLR8/s1600/letter+to+clinic+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuzl28OOzMRuw7vfWIhf8zFGNMFD2gTJP0MAr7AnXMpHa0SaOnvSUW-AuzCWBEdCC_dcx7bOvta3Xtn9lcSDsEV4HdvEh8IPmjipKYoIzZ0TIVsKjLsnFRanO35A_9YqOY6zsyemWLR8/s400/letter+to+clinic+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-55448649848934481492016-07-25T18:01:00.001-07:002016-07-25T18:02:08.013-07:00An old soul...<div class="MsoNormal">
We took the eleven
year old daughter of our friends out on Saturday. We went on a dolphin cruise
on the Port River in Adelaide and we even saw four dolphins! We were the only
ones to see one of the dolphins which was pretty special!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jess knew that Ari had
died and in the car on the way to the Port she said about how sad she was that
Ari was gone and how it must be really hard for us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She said “He was like
your child…so he was like my cousin too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay – I’ve got tears
in my eyes right now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This beautiful,
amazing girl said so simply and honestly exactly how we felt about our Ari. He
was our child.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She showed more
understanding than many adults would and with such simplicity and honesty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We adore her so much –
she is a pure delight in our lives – and I know for sure she is an old soul.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We love you Jess! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Tdtpf2JQCAM1Ki3YJpty13tuFkUGTOnl7EZVu3gjYFGThdA6f4A2PioWtMiisZmFfZwKV3YuAWIqzpAr6wrxI0HhuO1vSgw4tkjML6Anv3G2LXk5fNoIHDC7EKuXqDFr7ji7ntsOLNM/s1600/DSC_1157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Tdtpf2JQCAM1Ki3YJpty13tuFkUGTOnl7EZVu3gjYFGThdA6f4A2PioWtMiisZmFfZwKV3YuAWIqzpAr6wrxI0HhuO1vSgw4tkjML6Anv3G2LXk5fNoIHDC7EKuXqDFr7ji7ntsOLNM/s320/DSC_1157.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Jess, and Kirby</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafL2o-wCd6gUfP4dKbpaDZwyDpudcFHhDu5ha_jGXOHvXJ8B7k-KMDfHiuRARP-wdjla10i72KCuXJngdFIqQtXJb4g0TnOncJGyEyN0idi5EK0VmI16k0b0wsXBwKKXpzd4XHrEi8RY/s1600/DSC_1167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafL2o-wCd6gUfP4dKbpaDZwyDpudcFHhDu5ha_jGXOHvXJ8B7k-KMDfHiuRARP-wdjla10i72KCuXJngdFIqQtXJb4g0TnOncJGyEyN0idi5EK0VmI16k0b0wsXBwKKXpzd4XHrEi8RY/s320/DSC_1167.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Port Adelaide River</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenBcchnC10-SIsdFeU42y-lAlPrNdKqJwqFpKc8eK3hXhCaHpPE5-7kB66aessQQQKc39szbp4G1gjpwsFPM34wjPeV2TnjhoSFiqtoz1040_0ZGKr1E3AdRRrdm7VnD_c5VAyO9dYTc/s1600/DSC_1184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenBcchnC10-SIsdFeU42y-lAlPrNdKqJwqFpKc8eK3hXhCaHpPE5-7kB66aessQQQKc39szbp4G1gjpwsFPM34wjPeV2TnjhoSFiqtoz1040_0ZGKr1E3AdRRrdm7VnD_c5VAyO9dYTc/s320/DSC_1184.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the tall ships the "One and All"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSmCltAm7RUczXBqhdUXIge3ozpx8FqqvLJgzDsitNORFERDQbpDgPuRBO2Wm61Qb4XBpppHZPU9LZysWFyNHYsZGrIGjZNfVZIXfkRohe0MPjgS27xiKfAvWYxm12qsRb22qir_xEFg/s1600/Dads+and+kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSmCltAm7RUczXBqhdUXIge3ozpx8FqqvLJgzDsitNORFERDQbpDgPuRBO2Wm61Qb4XBpppHZPU9LZysWFyNHYsZGrIGjZNfVZIXfkRohe0MPjgS27xiKfAvWYxm12qsRb22qir_xEFg/s320/Dads+and+kids.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess with her Dad, and Kirby with Ari when he was a puppy.<br />
Jess can't remember a time when Ari wasn't around.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-65278598896773413252016-07-19T16:06:00.001-07:002016-07-19T16:06:26.028-07:00Counselling and stoicism…<div class="MsoNormal">
Earlier this year I
was considering going for <a href="http://whenyoucanthavekids.blogspot.com.au/2016/03/stuck.html" target="_blank">counselling </a>after my operation in January. This was due
to the surgeon finding endometriosis, which very likely could have contributed
to my infertility but was something the IVF clinic we went to never looked into,
let alone mentioned. I was feeling very angry and let down and the grief about
not having children reared up violently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I haven’t gone to
counselling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This time I found,
after a bit of time, I didn’t feel that I needed it. I found that I have moved
through the grief and pain (although it did rise again after my last operation
in June) and have come to a point where the anger is not overwhelming and I no
longer feel guilty that I let our children down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was only since
losing Ari that I realised that the need for counselling had gone. This wasn’t
because I thought that I needed counselling after losing Ari, but rather that I
realised that I know things about myself that I didn’t even know I knew – how’s
that for a mouthful!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I used to be a
positivity nut – and when things weren’t going my way or I thought they were
unfair I would try to control everything to make the situation good again, or I
would look for a very good reason as to why things weren’t going my way. I didn’t
recognise back then that what I wanted was for things to go my way – I just
thought that because I was thinking positively about certain aspects of life
that they would happen the way I envisaged. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even after we couldn’t
have children I had this idea of how life was going to be for Kirby and me and
that was the way it was going to be. If we couldn’t have children then surely
this new vision of life would become a reality? It would be completely unfair
if it didn’t!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It didn’t. Well, not
completely – things have happened that we hoped for, and things have happened
that we wish hadn’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mother-in-law said
to me the other day that there is something different about me this year – that
I seem more settled in myself. And that is how I feel. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life has its ups and its
downs – I have very little control over it really. I do what I can do and then
the rest happens due to events, people – a combination of things really.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have learnt to
accept that – most of the time! The night before Ari died, when he was in the
emergency vet overnight and we knew he was very sick, I said to Kirby that it was
quite possible that Ari might not come home. Kirby was surprised, I think, as
normally I wouldn’t even want to entertain that idea. But, it was a real
possibility, even though I hoped that what was wrong with him would be
something like a blockage in his digestive system that an operation could fix. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t believe that
my “negativity” contributed to the outcome. How could it? Ari already had lung
cancer and was going to die. I didn’t create it overnight and change what was
wrong with him from something that could have been fixed to cancer. If I had
the kind of power to change situations there is so much I would change in the
world and I would be a god! And, Ari would still be here because I would
definitely have made it so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I’m not sitting
here with my thoughts and emotions constantly wondering why it all happened and
how unfair it all is and that life is over. Of course, I am grieving – which involves
feeling sad, angry, guilty, asking why, etc. but it is a healthy grieving, not
an unhealthy grieving. I hope that makes sense.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stoicism is something
I have been reading about lately – once again thanks to <a href="http://www.oliverburkeman.com/" target="_blank">Oliver Burkeman</a>! Being
stoic – as it is defined today – was not what it originally was. Stoicism is a
philosophy and one I am keen to learn more about. One of my favourite quotes
from Marcus Aurelius (2<sup>nd</sup> century AD) is:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“The cucumber is
bitter? Put it down. There are brambles in the path? Step to one side. That is
enough without also asking: “How did these things come into the world at all?””<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve still got a long
way to go in understanding Stoicism, but it seems to be a philosophy that quite
possibly will appeal to me the more I delve into it. Or maybe it won’t be. I
don’t know and that’s quite okay.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, with the
endometriosis and with Ari and with not having children – I can grieve in a
healthy way, and wonder why as part of that grieving, but that is it. I don’t
have to keep on asking why and constantly dwell on it and be angry all the time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The interesting thing about
Stoicism is that the recognition of a situation doesn’t mean that you don’t do
anything about it – if someone is bullying you, you wouldn’t sit there and say “well
this is how it is” and leave it at that. You would say “this is how it is – now
I recognise this and I will do something about it.” Perhaps it is in that
recognition of the situation that the clarity of whether there is anything that
needs to be done occurs, and if so, what that might be? What do you think?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Therefore, I will
still be writing to the IVF clinic to ask for an explanation about why they
didn’t look into endometriosis – because I believe this will be a healthy thing
for me to do and may prevent them from failing someone else in the future as they
did us. After that, whether I get a satisfactory answer or not is out of my
control, and I will leave it be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-8390664091513851312016-07-12T20:25:00.000-07:002016-07-12T20:25:48.325-07:00Odi...<div class="MsoNormal">
After last week’s sad
entry I thought I would share with you a video to make you smile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was really worried after
Ari died that our other dog, Odi, would fret quite badly. But, while he’s been
a bit confused and looking for Ari, we’ve had him inside more and he is proving
quite the well-behaved indoor dog!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My Mum and Dad bought
him a new toy “Giggle” as well, which he absolutely loves. Toys and presents
are Odi’s absolutely favourite things! He even tries to take presents that are
given to Kirby and me…if he can get to them first!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, here is a video of
Odi playing with Giggle…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzzMyKrVUE2KBkty4KHbU-cvo6I8n6aw2KPfsHiRYtTtLxXGZmcxUJvapKPOgGEagrfbW_n6sErws5VPrOJGw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-30772650361773138632016-07-05T21:29:00.004-07:002016-07-05T21:29:48.256-07:00Ari...<div class="MsoNormal">
Well – this past
fortnight has been extremely sad and Kirby and I are still in shock.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our nine year old
German Short-haired Pointer, Ari, was absolutely fine a few weeks’ ago. He
played, ate, and was the silly larrikin he always was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then about a fortnight
ago he refused his dinner, which he had never done before. Breakfast and dinner
time were the best times of day for him!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took him to the vet
and it seemed he had a bit of a stomach bug. I offered him chicken and rice (as
per the vet’s instructions) when we got back home and he ate that down quite happily.
Over the next few days he returned to his normal self.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then early last week
he wouldn’t eat again and I took him back to the vet. The vet took blood and
tested it, and everything was fine. He did have a yeast infection in his ears
and it seemed he also got something in his eye – so we started treating both of
those things. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ari ate the next day
and we planned to take him to the vet for a check-up later in the week.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Then on Thursday night
Ari started breathing really heavily (using his entire body to try and
breathe), he was having trouble walking, and looked terrible. We rushed him to
the emergency vet and they admitted him as he was clearly in pain, and they told
us they would do scans on Friday and then call us with the results.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The results were not
what we what we ever thought we would hear. Ari had lung cancer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kirby and I went to
see him. He could barely walk, and just wanted to lie down. He knew we were
there, but didn’t wag his tail – he just didn’t have the energy. He couldn’t
lift his head, and so I sat down on the floor and lifted his head onto my lap
and patted him. Kirby sat down on the other side of Ari and stroked his head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The vet came in and
Kirby went to stand up, but the vet sat down on the floor with us – which was
lovely for her to do. She explained it all. He had a large amount of tumours in
his lungs, which was why he couldn’t breathe properly, and there was no
treatment because of the stage of the cancer. We could have had him go for more
scans (more invasive) to make sure it was cancer – but the vet said she was 99%
sure it was. The tumours were the shape of cancerous tumours.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were given time
alone with Ari to talk about what we would do, but really there was only one
thing we could do. He was in so much pain – it wasn’t fair to keep him going
any longer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The vet came back in
and Kirby and I held Ari and patted him as the vet gave him the injection to
put him to sleep. He stopped breathing and slipped away from us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just as I wrote that
last paragraph I felt that tightening in my chest that happens when somebody
tells you bad news.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is just a bad dream…surely? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWVtIktHz7sBLP7D9NpMNBYEZMP11QFGTP6cR8K-UAtPfy5H7bWDt_AU7IkPv1MZjjMOVpjQLxoFO4hfpwtFi3lvkDO836U_92XtbLW-xV04oB4mAkpP1k1LcCXlDNT8eMeE0Pwn2zsY/s1600/just+relaxing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWVtIktHz7sBLP7D9NpMNBYEZMP11QFGTP6cR8K-UAtPfy5H7bWDt_AU7IkPv1MZjjMOVpjQLxoFO4hfpwtFi3lvkDO836U_92XtbLW-xV04oB4mAkpP1k1LcCXlDNT8eMeE0Pwn2zsY/s200/just+relaxing.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuegFoMrff7z6WdSKiek0IEc4fVT5D15ZkPe5_Lknq1Eo3muZbLjlMY1tE2C-_2KB7T-JDuhK2_6HEElwd243BnHFiBYmvelaPs22F3RF5QOTfh8nnE7WwgJUpRB9TYWi28XGUJfBkFE/s1600/20150_1392296006297_1199067254_31179267_5802695_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuegFoMrff7z6WdSKiek0IEc4fVT5D15ZkPe5_Lknq1Eo3muZbLjlMY1tE2C-_2KB7T-JDuhK2_6HEElwd243BnHFiBYmvelaPs22F3RF5QOTfh8nnE7WwgJUpRB9TYWi28XGUJfBkFE/s200/20150_1392296006297_1199067254_31179267_5802695_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNK6ZjqxAw-pNcNsIZ5spCzTXnCImVX6Vln8IbSZkhvZbhF7obTyUXbqjsnLE4sHKazTpT9rzeFH4Nu-XXwqhBz-n5dqLNC-irxjBZvjCV80jDsFKomCvZy1eHIK6nIvCl3H5BGJlF81c/s1600/P7100033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNK6ZjqxAw-pNcNsIZ5spCzTXnCImVX6Vln8IbSZkhvZbhF7obTyUXbqjsnLE4sHKazTpT9rzeFH4Nu-XXwqhBz-n5dqLNC-irxjBZvjCV80jDsFKomCvZy1eHIK6nIvCl3H5BGJlF81c/s200/P7100033.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmNMRKlWCM31tUjA3IhoqxLOUbeCcsvYQKKPBuoRhYPeIcHnq9TjwLyvRNkhRRpGY1rub1Q0XwB-zeePebSTZ53h7h7h1DWvAyYizvJ0MjFI6YaZB_p4SuaaAfh6-e2RSvUqbVFBiUMo/s1600/DSC_0824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmNMRKlWCM31tUjA3IhoqxLOUbeCcsvYQKKPBuoRhYPeIcHnq9TjwLyvRNkhRRpGY1rub1Q0XwB-zeePebSTZ53h7h7h1DWvAyYizvJ0MjFI6YaZB_p4SuaaAfh6-e2RSvUqbVFBiUMo/s200/DSC_0824.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-86437007890903944062016-06-21T20:02:00.002-07:002016-06-21T20:02:16.961-07:00I don't want a baby...<div class="MsoNormal">
Surgery is over and I’m
on day six of getting better. It all went well and while I’m a bit sore still
and can’t do a lot of physical activity I do feel much better energy wise and
therefore mentally and spiritually as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My surgeon found more
endometriosis – quite significant scarring actually. And it may be that the
pain I felt before I will still feel in the future. I’m reading a book called <a href="https://susanevans.evolveshop.com.au/epages/susanevans.sf/en_AU/?ObjectPath=/Shops/5353109591318146/Products/1" target="_blank">“Endometriosis and Pelvic Pain”</a> by Dr Susan Evans at the moment to get some tips on lifestyle changes
I can make to help me be as healthy as possible. I may go to the clinic where <a href="http://www.pelvicpainsa.com.au/" target="_blank">Dr Evans</a> works as well as luckily for me it’s here in Adelaide, South
Australia. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing that concerned/s
me a little is that my surgeon said that if the pain doesn’t go away then the next
step may be a hysterectomy, but from what I’ve learnt about endometriosis, a
hysterectomy won’t do anything to fix the problem. I think I’ll get a second
opinion before going down that road as it’s not a simple procedure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, as the title of
this post says, I don’t want a baby anymore. Really – I don’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I no longer think much
about holding our newborn or nursing him or her or changing their nappies. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead that longing
has been replaced by one for our seven year old child. I wish our seven year
old Jacob or Ruby were here with us. I wish they were moving from being a small
child to being one with more independence and riding around the wetlands on
their bikes with their own friends, who is going to school and learning, and perhaps
playing sports. Who knows what they would have been interested in? I wish they
were here so we could know them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my heart my
children are growing up as the years pass by. They were newborns, toddlers, pre-schoolers,
and now they are seven years old. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few weeks ago Kirby
and I both had gastro – as we were sitting in the lounge feeling sorry for
ourselves I asked Kirby if he thought Jacob or Ruby, given they did not have
gastro also, would have looked after us as best a seven year old could do. We
both thought that they would have – at least some of the time. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then Kirby and I
held hands and reflected on what might have been.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-19952008281050120852016-06-14T17:14:00.001-07:002016-06-14T17:18:36.304-07:00Back I go…and my nephew…<div class="MsoNormal">
Hey everyone! Tomorrow
I’m headed back into hospital to fix up a small issue from the procedure back
in January – not my doctor’s fault, just something that happens. My body does not
like the clips put on my fallopian tubes and so they are coming off and my
tubes will be taken out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not looking forward
to the procedure itself, but I can’t wait till it’s done and I can get out and
walk my dogs and ride my bike and so on again. It’s really quite exciting!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay – got to tell you
about something my five year old nephew did a few weeks’ ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kirby and I were going
to look after him one evening, but Kirby was sick and so I got to look after
our nephew by myself, which was quite nice as we don’t get a lot of one on one
time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We played some games,
he beat me at an x-box sport game, and then we had some quiet time before he was
to go to bed. We decided to watch a movie.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My nephew said I could
pick the movie and pulled out his DVD box. I looked through them and picked out
“Despicable Me”. He looked at it and shook his head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We can’t watch that,
because it’s for over three year olds and Charlie is only two.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I picked out
another movie “Kung Fu Panda.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No – that one is for
over three year olds as well.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually I picked
out a DVD “Planes.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes – that one is
okay.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was really
thoughtful of him to think about what movie would suit Charlie as well…we
wouldn’t want Charlie watching something that is too mature for him…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the way – Charlie is
the dog.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My nephew let me “choose”
until I picked a suitable movie (otherwise known as the movie he wanted to
watch all along)!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I let my nephew have
that one – he is a clever little guy!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-72738172329954336262016-06-01T20:47:00.000-07:002016-06-01T20:47:28.452-07:00Like mud...<div class="MsoNormal">
The Australian show “Four
Corners” covered IVF this week – I’ve yet to watch it as I want to sit down
properly and be able to focus on it. But, the following quote was in the
synopsis on the <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/4corners/stories/2016/05/30/4469652.htm" target="_blank">Four Corners’ website</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Embryos are like
mud. You keep putting embryos on the wall of the uterus, eventually one will
stick." Fertility Doctor<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yeah – you read right.
Apparently our precious little embryos were like mud. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay – so I know what
this doctor was getting at – they put an embryo in and they hope it will stay.
But the analogy shows a lack of understanding and compassion as to what we go
through. My embryos were real children to me and still are – they weren’t mud.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I actually felt
shocked by this comment and began to feel upset as though this doctor was
personally attacking my children (our embryos). I wanted to find out which
doctor said this and call them and blast them into realising that they were
stupid and uncaring and just plain wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, instead I tried
practicing something I learnt recently – I took a few minutes to determine if
there was a judgement that I was making that was leading me to be excessively
angry. There was – I made the judgement that nobody should ever make comments
like this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The reality is that
there will always be comments such as this. I can’t change that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also made the
judgement that I needed to do something directly about this comment and make
that doctor feel as bad as possible. But I don’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These realisations
took a bit of the heat out of my anger.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I was able to
think more clearly about if and what I could do about it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And now I’m writing
this entry to say to anyone who reads it – please consider what you say about
IVF, our babies, and us, because words can hurt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s all I need to
do for now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-22898427442584645102016-05-30T21:36:00.000-07:002016-05-30T21:36:06.554-07:00Sometimes it's convenient...<div class="MsoNormal">
In the last few weeks
I’ve had a big editing project on the go, and I’ve also had the pleasure of a
bout of gastro! So I’ve been either busy working – or sick. Now it’s just the
working bit that remains (thank goodness!).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I was sick on
the weekend and in bed feeling quite awful, I had the thought that sometimes it
is quite convenient not to have children. Wow! This was followed by feelings of
guilt – how could I think that? What a terrible person I was! What a selfish
person I was!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, let’s be honest –
when you’re sick and all you want to do is sleep in between bouts of (well
probably no need to go into detail), not having to worry about anybody else makes
it much easier to rest and focus on getting better.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is that such a
horrible thing to think? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t believe so. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a reality.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m sure parents wish
for peace and quiet when they are sick. And, imagine trying to look after
yourself if you and your children all came down with gastro at the same time!
But, all in all, I doubt those parents would choose not have their children at all
for the sake of peace and quiet when they are ill. Of course the perfect scenario would be to
have both children and peace and quiet in times of ill health. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wouldn’t have chosen
not to have them either. If Jacob and/or Ruby were here I would have managed
somehow and I wouldn’t have given them up for the world – even if I was sick
and they were constantly waking me up asking about this or that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to say that I
admire parents (most anyway as some of them don’t deserve to be called parents)
in how they deal with being sick and still caring for their children. I don’t
know how they do it. Sure – they kind of have to – there’s no off switch on
kids that you can press when you want some time to yourself. Regardless – they are
pretty amazing!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-60781654425838052252016-05-12T23:55:00.000-07:002016-05-12T23:55:36.064-07:00Back to it...<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew it had been a
while since I’d written an entry here, but I didn’t realise that it has been
quite so long!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The last month and a
half have been busy with a family wedding and work and so on. I’ve also been
unwell. The pain in my side has become worse and I will be going back in for
surgery in mid-June to see if that can be resolved. More of my beautiful fish
died – it seems there has been a spike in pH in the pond which is now fixed. I’ve
been sleeping a lot and have kind of been a bit of a hermit regarding my
writing and this blog. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve had a few things
to sort out in my mind before I felt ready to write again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In regards to my last
entry, one of my readers asked about endometriosis and what the symptoms are.
There are many symptoms, and one of the best places I’ve found to read about
them is on the <a href="https://jeanhailes.org.au/health-a-z/endometriosis" target="_blank">Jean Hailes website</a>, and the video <a href="https://jeanhailes.org.au/resources/search?orderby_sort=title|asc&keywords=endometriosis" target="_blank">Understanding endometriosis</a>
is really informative and I’ve shared that with my family to help them
understand what endometriosis is all about (it's the third resource from the bottom of the page).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last weekend there was
an article written by (yet another) a woman who had gone through IVF and talks
about how difficult infertility is, has ended up having a child, and is telling
the rest of us not to give up because “you know, miracles DO happen. I have one
sleeping upstairs right now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I still find articles
such as this frustrating. Really – who is this woman to tell us that miracles
happen? How often, really, do miracles happen? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well – at least this
woman is trying to be positive and encouraging. On the flip side of the coin,
some of the comments on the article were just down right cruel toward people
who are struggling to have children. It’s fine to have a difference of opinion,
but why be nasty about it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One woman suggests that
our wanting children is the same as wanting any “commodity” and that we have some
kind of sense of entitlement to children, and from her “Buddhist” perspective desiring
to have our own children is an EGO-TRIP and will only end up with our
suffering. Many people pointed out to her that compassion is one of the key
principles of Buddhism, but she didn’t seem to get that point. I had an
interesting debate with her, but eventually gave up – there’s no point trying
to talk with someone who just wants to be right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh – and she also
claims to have infertility envy. Yeah – you read right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be honest – just
thinking about what she, and some others, wrote brings up the angry wild beast
in me. I won’t share with you the names I want to call her that are rolling
around in my head – but I’m sure you can imagine what they might be. I’ll just
say that she’s a great big meanie-head. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why am I sharing this?
Because there are going to be times when people are going to say cruel things
to us – we who want children so much but can’t have them. It’s like we deserve
the judgement and criticism for wanting children more than people who don’t
particularly care about kids, have them anyway, and then treat them like dirt. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s getting easier
with time to let these remarks and comments go without latching onto them, but given
what I’ve recently been going through the comments by this woman really stung.
I felt fragile and anxious and stuck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ironically, it was
thinking about this woman’s version of Buddhism that got me back
to feeling settled again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For some reason I
wanted her to be compassionate to me, but she wasn’t being compassionate. I
made it my mission to get her to understand my perspective, but she wouldn’t.
There came a point where I could either go crazy trying to change the way
things were or I could let it all go. So, I let the anger go and watched it float
on by – and I still am letting it go and float on by whenever the anger about
what she said arises in my mind. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I like to think of
Buddhism in terms of a river. Your <i>self</i>
is sitting on the bank of a beautiful clear river and all different leaves
float by from all different types of trees. You try to control them by creating
a dam, but that just stops the flow of the river and all the leaves come
together and form an indistinct sludge. You try to capture the leaves using a
scoop, but that just stirs up the river and the clear water becomes so murky
that you can no longer see the bottom. You try to push all the leaves away from
you with your hand, but they just stick to you instead. Eventually you learn
that all you need to do is watch the leaves float by.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of the leaves represent
different emotions – anger, sadness, happiness, love, guilt, joy, satisfaction.
None of them are seen as “better” or more “worthy” than others and none are
meant to be latched onto or pushed away. They are what they are – you see them,
you feel them, you appreciate them for what they are, you may even act on them,
and then you let them go. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is what I try to
do with my emotions – but it’s not always easy because I’m human!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The anger comes
around, I see it, I feel it, I act on it if I am able and it would be healthy
to do so, and then I let it go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m going to leave it
there, except to suggest that, if you are interested in a book that I have
learnt a lot from, have a look at “The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t
Stand Positive Thinking” by <a href="http://www.oliverburkeman.com/" target="_blank">Oliver Burkeman</a>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just realised that I
mentioned this book in April last year – so you can be assured it’s a favourite
of mine!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-58126695621211829082016-04-03T19:19:00.000-07:002016-04-03T19:19:40.442-07:00My weekend...<div class="MsoNormal">
Wow! What a weekend of
ups and downs and challenges…which all started on Thursday. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Thursday I had my follow
up appointment with my gynaecologist and I mentioned to her that I have been
having a pain that feels like something is pressing on the left side of my
lower abdomen, and every now and then a sharp pain that sometimes makes me
double over and gasp. She explained that sometimes there can be a build-up of
fluid on the ovary side of the clip that was put on fallopian tube.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I’m off for an
ultrasound on Friday and then another appointment with my gynaecologist
Thursday week.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learnt some more
about my endometriosis as well. It was not just a little bit, but is at stage three.
There are four stages from one to four with one being the least amount of
endometriosis and four being the most – although the amount of endometriosis
does not equate to the symptoms or pain a woman can feel. A woman can have
stage one and be in a lot of pain, while a woman can have stage four and not
feel anything. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It seems I have stage three
with much of the endometriosis in places where it cannot be removed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure what is
going to happen from here, but much will depend on the ultrasound findings, but
possibilities are further surgery and a possible hysterectomy. Which I do not
want. I definitely do not want a hysterectomy if at all possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friday I was one very
unhappy chicken. When I went in for the uterine ablation and the clipping of my
fallopian tubes I was looking forward to a simple procedure which would leave
me with far less monthly bleeding and therefore an increase in energy. I was
really excited about feeling good again and being able to get on with life.
But, as can happen with all of us, it wasn’t so simple and things still aren’t
sorted out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So – Friday. I went
out to the pond to find one of my fish, Sahmi (a golden comet), had died – he lived
in the little pond with Uthai (another golden comet), and Jade and Jasper (my
catfish). As my regular readers will know I love my fish. They all have names
and they are very friendly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had to do a water
change in both of the fish ponds and so I did that and put the fountain back in
the bigger pond. I went inside to do some other things that needing doing.
Later I went back outside and my big pond had tipped over and much of the water
was gone. The dirt underneath was a quagmire and the pond was floating. I panicked
as I couldn’t see my big fish (Rose, Ash, Billy, Jamie, Flint, Gertie, Myrtle, Faith,
and Mai). I pictured them having gone through a hole in the bottom of the pond
and having disappeared somewhere in the mud.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ran into the shed
and grabbed the first plastic box I could find to put any of the fish I could
find in. While doing so I shut the garage door on my thumb – ripping some of the
skin off and bruising my nail. It was very, very fortunate that as I emptied
the big pond I found each and every one of my babies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I rang Kirby in tears –
I just didn’t know how I was going to cope. Being the amazing man he is, he
talked me through my feelings and suggested sitting down with a coffee and
doing some deep breathing. I did so and felt much better – although my thumb
was really hurting by this stage!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Onto Saturday. Kirby and
I found that the area beneath the pond was extremely soggy and far too soggy to
put the pond back in, unless we wanted it to float and tip over again. Kirby’s
Dad came over and suggested we put two large holes deep into the ground and
fill them with gravel so that any water would drain away more easily, now and
in the future. Kirby did this, but by Sunday the ground still hadn’t drained
enough to put the pond back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Sunday we decided
that the best option, as the fish couldn’t stay in the containers for much longer,
would be to empty the little pond and put Uthai, Jasper, and Jade into the big
pond. And then we could put the big pond where the little pond had been (on
stable ground) for the time being until the water in the big pond hole drained
away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I began emptying the
little pond. Uthai was easy enough to catch, and being the easy going fish that
he is he was quite happy in the container I put him in until the big pond was
ready. As I emptied the pond further I started getting worried as Jasper and
Jade were nowhere to be seen, which was unusual as they are curious and like to
know what’s going on – especially Jade.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I eventually found
Jasper. He was dead on the bottom of the pond. Then I found Jade, she was very
ill and on the bottom of the pond. I burst into tears and it felt like nothing
could stop my heart from breaking. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The endo, the
possibility of future surgery, the fact that our kids had more of a chance than
the IVF clinic had given them, and my fish. It was far, far too much to take
on. I actually had a dream on Saturday night (before I found Jade and Jasper)
that I was in a room with some other women and there were darts, daggers, and
spears sticking out from the walls. The people in control said that every now
and then, with no notice, the weapons would be shot out into the room and some
of us would be injured and possibly die. The only way out was to pass some
tests. One of which was to be able to communicate with a dog, but I don’t
remember the rest of the tests. It was really frightening – especially when I
had passed a test (the dog communication one) but still had to go back into the
room, with the possibility I would die, before I could do any further tests.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m still thinking
about that dream. It is one of those ones that seemed to have a message from my
subconscious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pretty yucky weekend
all around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, last night, something
happened. I didn’t want to go to bed as my mind was racing and I was crying a
lot and I didn’t think I would be able to sleep. I decided to go outside, in
the cool darkness, and look up at the stars for a while. At first I could only
see a few stars, then more became visible, and eventually I could see the white
mist of the Milky Way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought to myself –
the Milky Way is so vast, and then there is this universe beyond that. One of
the stars I could see is 1340 light years away, which means the light I was
seeing left that planet around the year 670AD. The time before me and the time
after me is fathomless. I’m tiny, I’m a blip (less than a blip really). My life
is nothing in the vast scheme of things. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead of making me
feel unimportant and worthless I felt a weird sense of freedom. If my life is
so small and I am a speck of dust, then why do I worry about so many things?
Why don’t I feel the sadness, the happiness, the love, the hate, without
judgement? Why don’t I just get on with my life as it is? If I don’t really
matter in the big picture then maybe I ought to live my life without all this
worry and speculation and wondering what other people think of me and how messy
the house is and trying to work out how I can control what happens to me. All I
need to do is live the best I can doing what I believe is important.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s all I need to
do. I can still feel the fear and loneliness, but I need to learn to detach
from them so I can see them for what they are, and not hold onto them when they
are no longer of any use to me. I can still feel sorrow at the loss of my fish
and that our children were never born, and I can feel anger at the IVF clinic. But,
I need to realise I don’t have control of everything – or anything perhaps. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a freedom about this and all I need to do is embrace that freedom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s all I need to
do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieH9k-NSQWt9LZd3K_9RtPRGDj8k4dv8uYEfaWgf2c9C8K9ozT2brAsghMbB6Dc3d0TQSzhe01cGjT_UQDKZhg-nLwKm9ji7-mepMGnOb9W2dauvGS-d12Xz8hkEKvwhgOtx6ELj-Ep9U/s1600/fish+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieH9k-NSQWt9LZd3K_9RtPRGDj8k4dv8uYEfaWgf2c9C8K9ozT2brAsghMbB6Dc3d0TQSzhe01cGjT_UQDKZhg-nLwKm9ji7-mepMGnOb9W2dauvGS-d12Xz8hkEKvwhgOtx6ELj-Ep9U/s400/fish+4.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of my beauties...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8488346667354289216.post-27101618887120875402016-03-28T15:14:00.004-07:002016-03-28T15:14:56.096-07:00The letter...<div class="MsoNormal">
I went to see my doctor
not long after my last blog entry. And my apologies for the time between
entries! I’ve a couple of big projects to do and I haven’t been feeling too
brilliant – although much better now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back to the doctor.
She was amazing. I told her how I was feeling and that I wanted to go and see a
counsellor. She agreed it would be a really good idea and we worked out who
would be best for me to go and see. My doctor also offered to spend time, right
there and then, talking about the endometriosis and how I was feeling about it
all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I won’t go into all of
it, but she basically validated what I was feeling – which was very important
as I now realise. To have someone who doesn’t have a personal link to me (as family
and friends do) say that my thoughts and feelings are rational was so
comforting – I’m not crazy! At least not on this issue…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My doctor suggested
that I write a letter to the IVF clinic that we went to and let it all go.
Write exactly what I feel and say exactly what I want to say – let it rip and
use all the angry words I want to use without any holding back. And then, if I
wanted to later, I could write it in a more appropriate way and actually send
it to the IVF clinic manager.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote the letter
about a week after seeing my doctor. It was really therapeutic. I started off
with my incredibly angry words, and then through the letter ended up claiming myself
and my healing back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have decided to
share the letter with you as it shows the thought process that I went through
while writing it – from unbelievable anger at the clinic to claiming my own
self again. I have blacked some of the letter out due to the words not being
necessarily appropriate!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s320/letter.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0HrqIPTnAwXFfphwec9vzTLb5JSb4WOVVanUSrY6E9Ex1xlUYkWhFsOumr5twddFkR52q_UHRz9EtFHC0n250pBhE7xXZBVtZ59jX2AmCAGzpNQRkTPAGW1tRx5oAwtpCnzjeIAcglY/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a>I will still be
writing to the IVF clinic formally and seeing a counsellor, but writing this
letter now has been an important and valuable first step in working through
these messy emotions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0