Mother's Day

I know it's after the fact, but I wanted to record something of what took place yesterday, because it felt like such a significant day.

Between the rush of church and family gatherings, I scarcely had time to think about some things that cropped up for me.

Just recently I've found myself thinking a lot about Zoe. Mother's Day obviously brought her to mind in a big way, but I've caught myself looking at her photo a lot in the past few weeks, and talking to her again. I haven't done that in a long while.

Did I tell you about the painting I saw at Kirstenbosch recently? There's a permanent art display near the nursery up at the top gate, with rotating art by local artists. G and I decided to go and see it while we were there recently. While there, I saw a lovely little painting of 3 blonde kids playing in the surf: two girls with a little boy. Their ages looked correct for Janel, Zoe and Nathan as they would be at the moment. It's a fairly simple painting, but it captured my heart. Maybe that's why she's been in my thoughts so much of late... I've promised myself that if we have enough money left over after our current renovations & G's op & a few other essentials, that I'll go back to see whether it's still there, and if it is, I'll buy it.

But getting back to Mother's Day. The sermon on Sunday morning was on.. wait for it... "Is God in control?". I know, not the sort of topic you would expect for Mother's day, but there you go. Given the place my heart is in right now, it was a timeous topic. This is one of the things I have always struggled with since Zoe's death. Why didn't God save her? Was it because he wasn't able to, didn't care enough to, or was there some other reason? I've come to accept that it's the 3rd - that there was another reason for her death. However, this sermon really helped me to firm up that foundation, to remind me of how I can know that God IS always in control, and that he continues to care, but that his purposes & plans are bigger than me and my little life. It was one of the best sermons I've heard in a long time - and I wound up in tears. (Now doesn't that sound familiar????) I'd recommend you listen to it. (Click this link to download it from the church's website.)

Then, my mom and I had such a fabulous talk - HOURS long - about all sorts of things, both trivial and meaningful. We haven't had an opportunity to talk like that in a very, very long time. I've missed it. It was so awesome to connect with her again.

All this following on from pancakes in bed for breakfast (my man is the BEST!) and special pictures from my kids made this Mother's Day a special one to remember.

Motherhood

Before you all get the idea from my previous post this afternoon that I'm completely morose, borderline schizo and had a horrible, horrible day, let me say that I am none of those things. Paranoid, yes. But I had a good day - despite the fact that it wasn't what I was expecting. It was a good day because my husband made me pancakes, my children hugged me, I got to hug my mother, and I got to be Mommy to my sick baby girl.

I've mentioned before that as a result of this pregnancy I've been contemplating motherhood. No-one can ever explain to you how being a mother forever changes you. I mean, they can try, but nothing can really prepare you. Becoming a *good* mother demands sacrifice, and let's be honest - who amongst us really likes sacrifice?

When I see first-time mothers, pregnant and scared, or women without kids terrified by the prospect of having kids and how it will change them, I can't help but gush. Yes, there is a price to pay, and yes, it is a high one, but oh my word it is SO worth it! That's the only reason I was prepared to try for a baby again. I know that there's a very high probability we will lose this baby and my heart will be broken again. I know that, but I'm willing to try. Why? Because having kids is the biggest and most incredible privilege in the world. While I absolutely want to honour my own mother for her sacrifice, part of me feels that on Mother's Day mothers should be the one saying thank you to their kids, not the other way around. Thank you for being my baby. Thank you for allowing me to be your Mommy. Thank you for the joy you bring into my life. Thank you for the lessons you have taught me. Thank you for thinking so highly of me, even when I screw up so regularly.

My favourite things about being a Mommy? Like Browning, I want to respond... "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."

I love the smell of my baby's head (even now she's a little girl).
I love the feel of her skin.
I love the shape of her face.
I love the feel of her little body hugging me.
I love the weight of her head resting on my shoulder.
I love the way she calls me when she's really in need - cut her finger, or bumped herself.
I love that sometimes she wants Mommy to wash/ carry/ feed/ help her.
I love the way she plays with her father.
I love the sound of her giggles.
I love the way she copies the adults who care for her.
I love the way she plays with her dogs.
I love her excitement about the world around her.
I love her curiosity about life.
I love her expressions of delight - squealing and jumping and clapping her hands.
I love that she is developing a sense of humour.
I love the way she lies in bed when she sleeps.
I love that she knows the difference between pretend and real.
I love that she is still (mostly) predictable.
I love watching her develop new skills and show unfettered pride in them.
I love her generous spirit.
I love that her nails are always dirty (it means she's been playing outside).
I love that she loves me, that she wants me to reassure her that I am *her* Mommy.

And loving her as I do, I can't but help be so grateful for her presence in my life. The price to pay for that privilege is high, but I'm very willing to pay it, and to go on paying it for the rest of my life. Sometimes I think that letting your kids go must be the most painful price to pay, but also the greatest joy as you accomplish your goal of raising healthy, responsible, mature adults.

A blogger friend wrote this poem for Mother's Day, and I think it's rather apt:

You were costly,
but we paid the price
eagerly
joyously.

You were carved from
our bone
fattened by our
very marrow
leeched out from
our souls.

You were costly
but we paid the price
knowing no certainty
awaits.

We bore you up
on aching arms
shifted weight from
foot to foot

stood breaking-back
vigil
over cribside dark
stroking cheeks
with worried look.

You were costly
but we paid the price
eagerly
joyously.

You bruised our limbs
and splintered toys
pierced ears with
raucous shrieking noise
soaked our shoulders
with soundless
sobs

You were costly
but we paid the price
proudly
humbly

begging to be put to the
test
to be granted this risk
to hold heaven
to touch bliss

And in His abundance
He sold pricelessness
for cheap

needing nothing
but wanting all
gave us everything
gave us you.

You were costly
but we paid the price
vouchsafed by our love
secured with our lives

we paid the price
eagerly
joyously.

Mother's Day with all my children

As the 33 week mark draws near (Wed), I'm finding myself panicking at least once a day, often more. Fortunately though, every time I do start to panic, within a few moments, baby boy responds by moving and I can breathe a sigh of relief.

I had a wonderful moment this morning, followed by a moment of sheer panic. Nellie came for a snuggle in bed this morning before G got up to make me pancakes in bed (he has NEVER made me pancakes before!). As she and I were cuddling, I suddenly became aware of baby boy being part of that hug, and then of Zoe on my other side. It was such a warm, happy feeling - all my children with me, all happy, all loving me. I wish I could have bottled that moment; it was so precious.

A few moments later though I wondered to myself whether the reason that I felt Zoe's presence was because baby boy won't be with me much longer, and God wanted to give me at least one special moment with all my kids together. Cue panic.

People keep telling me to be positive, to trust that all will be well. While I appreciate they're trying to help, I wish they'd say nothing. I am trying to be positive, but however positive I am, that makes no difference to whether this baby will live or die. That decision is entirely up to God, and no matter how positive I try to be, it's a decision that is out of my hands. I was terribly optimistic about Zoe, because she'd managed to stay put till week 37; because the scan on the Wed showed that all was well with her and me. Look at how that positivity turned out.

I will treasure that moment this morning for a long time, but doing so does not alleviate my fear and paranoia. I'm getting to the stage where I want to have a monitoring belt permanently attached. If this baby is going to die, there will be no warning, no indications. He will be here one moment, and gone the next, but I want to know when that moment will be. There is no way to prevent it (other than what I am currently doing in terms of taking my meds), and therefore there is no way to reduce my fear.

Trust in God, everyone says. Hmm... trust in him to do what, exactly? Keep this baby alive? I don't know why God decided not to let Zoe live, so I have no idea whether he might make the same decision with this baby, or not. I am in completely uncharted waters here. While I trust in God to do whatever is best, I have next to no faith that he won't make the same decision again, that him choosing not to let this baby live is what is best. So how exactly do you want me to trust in God? God is sovereign. If he chooses to take this baby, or if he chooses to let him live, the extent to which I trust him is not going to change the outcome. All I can trust is that God is faithful. If he does take this baby, then he will help me cope; he will get me through it, eventually. I'm not sure how, but I trust he will. That trust, though, does not alleviate my fear that God's plan is to take this baby.

I guess that knowledge made that moment this morning all the more precious. If he is going to take this baby, then at least, for that one moment, I had all my children with me, and what better day on which to have it than Mother's Day.

So I'm grateful, even though the thought that that may have been the last moment on this earth that my children were all together scares me witless. Small mercies...

As for the rest of the day, well, it was nice, but nothing spectacular. I didn't feel particularly treasured, or appreciated. Nellie is ill - she's going to the doc tomorrow to get something. She's been ill for about 2 weeks now, but was getting better last week. Then, suddenly, yesterday, she developed a fever. Today, she was completely lethargic... quite scarily so. At one point I was ready to rush off to ER with her.

The time we had with my mom she was asleep (she slept from about noon until about 3pm!) and I was constantly keeping an ear out for her to wake or cry, and worrying that she'd hardly eaten or drunk a thing all day (up till that point) and wondering whether she was getting dehydrated. (A mother's lot in life, I guess!) The time we had with G's family I spent entertaining her and so not interacting with anyone else. I'm not complaining about that - I loved the hugs and cuddles and snuggles... but having to remind/ harass others to get me stuff to eat/ drink or fetch my bag, etc because I couldn't get up, and not having a decent conversation with any of his family for 2 hours, well... that wasn't really how I envisaged mother's day....

So, now I'm off to bath my baby and get her into bed. Then I'm off to bed myself. Sleep cures a million ills, I figure!

Milestones??

On Sunday we went to church. We purposely arrived late and sat right at the back so that we wouldn't have to talk to people for a while. It was an all-age service, which meant the kids were in for the entire service. That was okay, as I don't think I would've wanted Nellie to be out of sight in the creche (plus one of us would have had to have been with her because she still doesn't settle there without us...).

The sermon was good - all about what it means for Jesus to be king - nothing too emotional. I found the worship really tough - not because I couldn't acknowledge God as all-powerful king, but because doing so means letting go of Zoe in some ways. Graeme didn't manage to engage at all with any of it as he was running around after Nellie. Tea after the service was ok. Mostly people were lovely - neither too caught up in their own grief nor too distant from ours. There were a few people who kept their distance that we had hoped would say something, but there was only one person whose expression of grief I felt I had to manage. The rest were just amazing.

So, all in all, a tough morning, but not a bad one. At least now we've seen a chunk of the church members, which should make the Easter service easier, and should make the funeral easier too, as it won't be the first time we're seeing people. One milestone (if you can call it that) down...

Another milestone was going to meet Ella. She's gorgeous - looks just like her parents! (But if you know her parents you know there's no way she could be anything but gorgeous as they are both very good-looking people!) Seeing her was a lot easier than either of us expected it to be. We had thought we would need to weep, but that wasn't the case. For me, there were only one or two moments where I felt a pang (and caught myself thinking about how I wasn't going to have that problem/ feeling/ bond for at least another year), but nothing overwhelming, thank God. Having a cuddle was very special - there is something so incredible, so holy, about newborns.... I don't know if you truly appreciate that when it's your child. I think you're just too tired and wrung out. I certainly wasn't as aware of it with Nellie, or with Zoe, as I was with Ella. Odd. Anyway, we were really able to celebrate her, and celebrate with her parents, and that was very special too.

It felt odd being the experienced ones though and seeing them struggle with all the issues that first-time parents have (sleep??? what's that??? when will my milk come in?? is she feeding enough?? why won't she stop crying?? how do you hold her??... etc, etc, etc). I can remember how out of my depth I felt, and it was great to be able to reassure them both that while this first week is tough, things get progressively easier.

On the Nellie front, things have been up and down. After we got the news about Ella on Saturday, and had spent the rest of the day feeling devastated, Nellie was extremely anxious on Sunday. Fortunately, she had a really good day with the child minder on Monday, so was much happier last night and again today.

I can't remember whether I've blogged that she's started eating raisins (finally!! some fruit that she really enjoys - she's gone off whole pieces of any other fruit, and isn't wild about pureed fruit either anymore). Needless to say, in an effort to get fruit into her, she's now got a runny tummy.... hmm. Maybe Mommy is getting over-excited about the raisins.

She also said another word the other day - yodit - meaning yoghurt. So cute! She's learnt to make the sign for 'more', which means that we have another way of checking if she's still hungry towards the end of mealtimes. And she's started trying to communicate to us when she's done a poo!! She's also starting to learn the sign for 'nappy', which will help with this. Potty training here we come... in a little while. Let's get through the funeral first, then we'll hang on a bit longer for the warmer weather to become more predictable before we venture forth into this next phase of toddlerhood.

So - there are things still worth celebrating, even in the midst of all the pain and confusion, and we're trying to keep focussed on those things when we can. It helps with the pain; makes it slightly more bearable.

Tomorrow my mom arrives from SA, after about 25 hours of travel. (The cheapest flights always go via, via, via... with lay overs of several hours between connections.) It's going to be FANTASTIC having her here with us, but she's going to be too exhausted to think for a day or two I suspect! Funny how, even now as an adult, when things go wrong, all I want is my Mommy!!