I do love Christmas - the excitement, the family, the sense of occasion. After all the grief of FiL's death in November it was only appropriate to be there despite my family kicking up a stink. As dysfunctional as my family are, his family are sane and happy so it was great to be there. The is a certain kind of comfort in a great family and some of my favourite moments were just watching The Hubster, his sister and brother just gently ribbing their mother with pure fondness and no malice what so ever. Being with the In Laws there are still subtleties of the family dynamic that go over my head: the occasional tumbleweed moment and a little dancing on egg shells.
The most Christmasy bits were more private. The magical time on Christmas morning when the Pickle climbed into bed and we inspected what Father Christmas had brought. He must have read the Pickle's list well as she got her welly boots, sunflower seeds and scissors. He read my mind as I got a couple of cook books, a pestle and mortar, fluffy socks and a New Internationalist diary with some cartoons so explicitly political it is not appropriate for all business meetings :)
The Pickle had very kindly passed me a virus - so after trying to pull my weight on Christmas day I have been almost bed ridden ever since. I need to pull myself together as the Hubster has been looking greyer and more exhausted I am worried that he is about to succumb. Happy New Year?
Well, yes, Happy New Year - I have been forgiven. After the fireworks of deciding to spend Christmas with the In Laws my Mum is finally speaking to me again. Why? Like the Grinch did her heart grow by two sizes? Almost, it was a gift: diamonds? a designer hand bag? No, it was a small, lurid, fluffy horse that could fit into your palm. Far from the tasteful and chic it was tasteless and cheap but it was obviously chosen for her by her Granddaughter, and she loved it.
Happy New Year to you all - I hope that this is a year of family, peace and a little silliness for us all! xx
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Thursday, 16 December 2010
The Waiting Game
It is funny, the whole infertility thing - but not very amusing. In your twenties it never crosses your mind, birth control seeming more relevant. Now it seems to be socially acceptable to chatter about conception tips, vitamins and supplements and even compare notes on consultants.
I think it is great now that infertility is no longer a taboo subject. However, I still struggled to find sympathy for Mylene Klass when she bemoaned her 18 month wait to conceive. 18 months? The Pickle is 4 and we have never not been trying! I feel a bitch, but fertility and hormones are bound in together, and even if I am pleased that she is now expecting I can't empathise with her wait.
I am amazed by the attitudes to it. I was in casualty one long night recently and chatting to a consultant; he was talking about his training and the different jobs he had done. He revealed how the one job he could not do is fertility. He looked at me, saying how unfair it was the people like us struggled to conceive then others had issues over how to control their families - by implication talking about who deserves children. I don't subscribe to that way of thinking, there are no undeserving Mums, just a range of stories from triumph the tragedy about struggling to do our best (or just to cope). But, even then it is still loaded; someone I care about is undergoing IVF for a first child - I find it hard not to consider that maybe she really deserves the luck more than me.
It is certainly, for me, so different second time around. Before the Pickle every period was difficult, another month of hopes dashed. When we finally got to see the consultant I was told to loose weight and then they would see me in a few months time. So I did a major detox and sure enough I got pregnant. Was it the detox? I am not sure, we got more strategic about when we tried, I was taking vitamin supplements and going to a homeopath - so it may have been any of a number of reasons, or just Mother Nature kicking in.
This time around I have found the detox more difficult, in fact my effort could be described as best as half hearted. When I last checked, many months ago, I was at the same weight as when the Pickle was conceived. I have given up caffeine and since being a Mum my drinking is not what it used to be. It is only recently when the medical intervention has really started that I have got religious about my folic acid.
So where are we now? Mildly hopeless but hopeful (I don't think think that is an oxymoron or a Jane Austen title 'Sense and Sensibility'/'Pride and Prejudice/'Hopeless but Hopeful'?). The medical intervention? That is a story for another day.
I think it is great now that infertility is no longer a taboo subject. However, I still struggled to find sympathy for Mylene Klass when she bemoaned her 18 month wait to conceive. 18 months? The Pickle is 4 and we have never not been trying! I feel a bitch, but fertility and hormones are bound in together, and even if I am pleased that she is now expecting I can't empathise with her wait.
I am amazed by the attitudes to it. I was in casualty one long night recently and chatting to a consultant; he was talking about his training and the different jobs he had done. He revealed how the one job he could not do is fertility. He looked at me, saying how unfair it was the people like us struggled to conceive then others had issues over how to control their families - by implication talking about who deserves children. I don't subscribe to that way of thinking, there are no undeserving Mums, just a range of stories from triumph the tragedy about struggling to do our best (or just to cope). But, even then it is still loaded; someone I care about is undergoing IVF for a first child - I find it hard not to consider that maybe she really deserves the luck more than me.
It is certainly, for me, so different second time around. Before the Pickle every period was difficult, another month of hopes dashed. When we finally got to see the consultant I was told to loose weight and then they would see me in a few months time. So I did a major detox and sure enough I got pregnant. Was it the detox? I am not sure, we got more strategic about when we tried, I was taking vitamin supplements and going to a homeopath - so it may have been any of a number of reasons, or just Mother Nature kicking in.
This time around I have found the detox more difficult, in fact my effort could be described as best as half hearted. When I last checked, many months ago, I was at the same weight as when the Pickle was conceived. I have given up caffeine and since being a Mum my drinking is not what it used to be. It is only recently when the medical intervention has really started that I have got religious about my folic acid.
So where are we now? Mildly hopeless but hopeful (I don't think think that is an oxymoron or a Jane Austen title 'Sense and Sensibility'/'Pride and Prejudice/'Hopeless but Hopeful'?). The medical intervention? That is a story for another day.
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
Dear Father Christmas
What should I do? I just had a horrible conversation with my Big Bruv and I am in pieces. You see, Big Bruv has been a rock for me, as my relationship with the Mumster has floundered, when I suffered miscarriages and when life has seemed cruel you have always been there. He offered us whatever support we needed when my FiL died, so why now is he laying down the law?
It is all about where we spend Christmas. My family verses the in-laws.
There has always been something magical about being at 'home' with you over Christmas. The house holds a lifetime of special memories drenched in tradition. Each year barely deviating from the minute by minute agenda set at birth, the the walls all echoing to the sound of past Christmases. Just coming through the doors and smelling the two large Christmas trees transports me back to the time when Christmas was the focal point of the year, when cynicism had not set in, and when Christmas was just uncomplicated joy. But this year, things are not so simple - and now that I have my own family is your house still really my home?
Things got tougher when Daddy got ill - but we stuck together. The Hubster and his family never questioned that he should be with me, and my family, both in Daddy's last Christmas and the next few years after that.
Now I find that I am the hopes, and more pertinently, the fears of my generation of the family. The Hubster's Dad has just died and I thought that what was right for one family was right for another and I volunteered to change plans to be with his family. This Mum had asked politely on numerous occasions if we may be available, and wanting to support an 80 year old widow we had said that we would spend Christmas with her.
Now Big Bruv has said that there will be (to quote) "a nuclear explosion" if I do that. Citing the fact that the Hubster is one of five and they have a big family and could cope without us. I do understand that it may be a bit dull just Big Bruv, the Mumster and the Maiden Aunt (particularly the Maiden Aunt) but still I feel it would be the right thing to be there for my MiL.
What should I do, Father Christmas? Give in to Big Bruv's threats or risk a family schism? If I do that I will devastate the Hubster's family by dragging him away from them. If Big Bruv was married this may not be so critical, but should I be forced to compensate for that? I have spent the last 24 hours in tears and vacillate wildly between anger and capitulation.
By the way, as I am writing to you anyway, here is the Pickle's Christmas Wish list:
Sunflower seeds
A pair of scissors
A pair of wellies
A Hello Kitty Sticker Machine
A crash helmet with a Daisy on it (okay I may have subconsciously implanted that one as I know that we are giving her a bike).
A sage response to my quandary would be greatly appreciated!
As ever,
Sarah
It is all about where we spend Christmas. My family verses the in-laws.
There has always been something magical about being at 'home' with you over Christmas. The house holds a lifetime of special memories drenched in tradition. Each year barely deviating from the minute by minute agenda set at birth, the the walls all echoing to the sound of past Christmases. Just coming through the doors and smelling the two large Christmas trees transports me back to the time when Christmas was the focal point of the year, when cynicism had not set in, and when Christmas was just uncomplicated joy. But this year, things are not so simple - and now that I have my own family is your house still really my home?
Things got tougher when Daddy got ill - but we stuck together. The Hubster and his family never questioned that he should be with me, and my family, both in Daddy's last Christmas and the next few years after that.
Now I find that I am the hopes, and more pertinently, the fears of my generation of the family. The Hubster's Dad has just died and I thought that what was right for one family was right for another and I volunteered to change plans to be with his family. This Mum had asked politely on numerous occasions if we may be available, and wanting to support an 80 year old widow we had said that we would spend Christmas with her.
Now Big Bruv has said that there will be (to quote) "a nuclear explosion" if I do that. Citing the fact that the Hubster is one of five and they have a big family and could cope without us. I do understand that it may be a bit dull just Big Bruv, the Mumster and the Maiden Aunt (particularly the Maiden Aunt) but still I feel it would be the right thing to be there for my MiL.
What should I do, Father Christmas? Give in to Big Bruv's threats or risk a family schism? If I do that I will devastate the Hubster's family by dragging him away from them. If Big Bruv was married this may not be so critical, but should I be forced to compensate for that? I have spent the last 24 hours in tears and vacillate wildly between anger and capitulation.
By the way, as I am writing to you anyway, here is the Pickle's Christmas Wish list:
Sunflower seeds
A pair of scissors
A pair of wellies
A Hello Kitty Sticker Machine
A crash helmet with a Daisy on it (okay I may have subconsciously implanted that one as I know that we are giving her a bike).
A sage response to my quandary would be greatly appreciated!
As ever,
Sarah
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
I am
While writing the last post I was reminded how I have not linked up to the Sleep is for the Weak writing workshop for a while. So I have decided to take Josie's advice and just take the plunge - and I am seemed a pertinent follow on from the last two posts.
I am...
... individual. I don't mean to but I do things my own way and this can make me unconventional at times.
...creative. This is not a boast, but it is just who I am. I am not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg with the creative / individual comment.
...a wife and mother as well as being a feminist. I wonder at times if there is any conflict between these but as they are all so much part of me I accept and enjoy!
... kind. I have foot in mouth disease, but I genuinely think that despite some of the outrageous things I say (by accident) I always try to find the good in everyone and everything. I try never to pre-judge, and give loads of benefit of the doubt.
...40 but I still feel that I have loads of life and new beginnings to come.
...in need of a bit of a kick up the bum! I need to loose some weight and refocus after this year of hell.
...ethical. I believe that all my actions have impact in the world at large. I have no expectations for friends and family, I love them as they are, but I won't be serving Nestle coffee and fois gras in my house.
...me! At 40 I realise I have strength and weaknesses, sometimes my looks would frighten a small child but I can scrub up. I have had great times, sad times, done things I am proud of and things that I would prefer to gloss over. Good and bad, I'm me and really quite happy with who I am - just give me that kick to remind me to make the most of this life.
I am...
... individual. I don't mean to but I do things my own way and this can make me unconventional at times.
...creative. This is not a boast, but it is just who I am. I am not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg with the creative / individual comment.
...a wife and mother as well as being a feminist. I wonder at times if there is any conflict between these but as they are all so much part of me I accept and enjoy!
... kind. I have foot in mouth disease, but I genuinely think that despite some of the outrageous things I say (by accident) I always try to find the good in everyone and everything. I try never to pre-judge, and give loads of benefit of the doubt.
...40 but I still feel that I have loads of life and new beginnings to come.
...in need of a bit of a kick up the bum! I need to loose some weight and refocus after this year of hell.
...ethical. I believe that all my actions have impact in the world at large. I have no expectations for friends and family, I love them as they are, but I won't be serving Nestle coffee and fois gras in my house.
...me! At 40 I realise I have strength and weaknesses, sometimes my looks would frighten a small child but I can scrub up. I have had great times, sad times, done things I am proud of and things that I would prefer to gloss over. Good and bad, I'm me and really quite happy with who I am - just give me that kick to remind me to make the most of this life.
Good Grief
I don't think that there is a good way to die, but at times I think that my Dad's was the worst. He had early on set dementia (like Alzheimer's for younger people) and it took years to watch him slide towards death. It is hard to say when charm turned to eccentricity and eccentricity to inappropriate behaviour, and likewise his stuttering became aphasia and then he just forgot how to talk.
As he got more ill I decided to give up my job and study for a Masters as I could study from my parents home and be around when I was needed. As his health deteriorated by personal life seemed to be on the up. I met the Provite and two years later he asked me to marry him. It has great to have something positive to think about to distract from the illness - and I realise how important it is for me to know that the two men I love the most got to meet while my Dad could still just communicate.
We could not really predict the trajectory of the illness so we set the wedding date for two weeks after I handed in my long study for my Masters in September and the planning began. Sadly my Dad did not make it, he died six months before our wedding.
It was great as we had something positive to focus on after the funeral, we had the reading that included 'A time to weep, a time to laugh' at both funeral and wedding as a poignant reminder of the tumultuous year.
But maybe we focused two much on seeing the good side and glossed over the need to weep. I remember after the funeral everybody came back to the house; I was walking in after the private family burial and being accosted by someone who was insistent that we talked as his son was getting married in September - I remember repeating calmly to him that I wanted to put down my coat before talking, time after time when he did not listen until I finally just fled upstairs. That seemed to set the tone for the mourning.
All seemed to be going well and it is now eight years since his death. This year my usual calm has been shaken, as readers of the blog may have noticed. After reading 'They F*** You Up: How to Survive Family Life' by Oliver James I was determined to unpick my past so that I could be a better parent to the Pickle.
This dredged up so much! My parents had a simple facade - if there was a duff decision, it was my Mum's fault and if anything was cool that was because of my Dad. Nobody presented it that way, but folklore is often based on prejudice and this myth was built up. I do have a rocky relationship with my Mum but I have been forced to accept that it may have been a little unfair.
Then my Father in Law died...he was the most amazing man and his death came as quite a shock even though we knew that he had terminal cancer. He just seemed so strong and indestructible. My first concern was the Hubster, then his Mum and my step children. But why was I finding it so hard to keep it together?
I was crying when walking the dog, crying at my desk, generally crying when the Hubster was not around to see me! I felt like an Oscar Wilde character "To lose one father, Ms Dawnay, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose two looks like carelessness". I was not sure if I was crying for my Dad, for Leon, for the miscarriage, depression that was settling on me from general life - but I was sad and I was crying!
I survived the funeral - thanks to my amazing sister in law's gentle comforting. I was not a soggy mess, just a few appropriate tears (although what is appropriate is any body's guess) and I was strong enough to be there for the Hubster.
I am now feeling strangely free - I have cried away so much past hurt. I feel as if I am starting to move ahead and can look more clearly to my future. After a year of feeling blocked in my issues beyond my control, I can now start to plan again. I appreciate that this is the resolution of over ten year's grief.
As I feel stronger this weekend was a stark reminder. Our lovely friend Rob was building us some gorgeous book cases (that we originally commissioned about 3 or 4 years ago). I was thinking of Leon as previously he has done built all our amazing furniture, I realised how hard it must have been for the Hubster. As my grieving comes to an end, I hope I can be truly strong for the Hubster - as trust me, it is shit, but sooner or later it does get better!
As he got more ill I decided to give up my job and study for a Masters as I could study from my parents home and be around when I was needed. As his health deteriorated by personal life seemed to be on the up. I met the Provite and two years later he asked me to marry him. It has great to have something positive to think about to distract from the illness - and I realise how important it is for me to know that the two men I love the most got to meet while my Dad could still just communicate.
We could not really predict the trajectory of the illness so we set the wedding date for two weeks after I handed in my long study for my Masters in September and the planning began. Sadly my Dad did not make it, he died six months before our wedding.
It was great as we had something positive to focus on after the funeral, we had the reading that included 'A time to weep, a time to laugh' at both funeral and wedding as a poignant reminder of the tumultuous year.
But maybe we focused two much on seeing the good side and glossed over the need to weep. I remember after the funeral everybody came back to the house; I was walking in after the private family burial and being accosted by someone who was insistent that we talked as his son was getting married in September - I remember repeating calmly to him that I wanted to put down my coat before talking, time after time when he did not listen until I finally just fled upstairs. That seemed to set the tone for the mourning.
All seemed to be going well and it is now eight years since his death. This year my usual calm has been shaken, as readers of the blog may have noticed. After reading 'They F*** You Up: How to Survive Family Life' by Oliver James I was determined to unpick my past so that I could be a better parent to the Pickle.
This dredged up so much! My parents had a simple facade - if there was a duff decision, it was my Mum's fault and if anything was cool that was because of my Dad. Nobody presented it that way, but folklore is often based on prejudice and this myth was built up. I do have a rocky relationship with my Mum but I have been forced to accept that it may have been a little unfair.
Then my Father in Law died...he was the most amazing man and his death came as quite a shock even though we knew that he had terminal cancer. He just seemed so strong and indestructible. My first concern was the Hubster, then his Mum and my step children. But why was I finding it so hard to keep it together?
I was crying when walking the dog, crying at my desk, generally crying when the Hubster was not around to see me! I felt like an Oscar Wilde character "To lose one father, Ms Dawnay, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose two looks like carelessness". I was not sure if I was crying for my Dad, for Leon, for the miscarriage, depression that was settling on me from general life - but I was sad and I was crying!
I survived the funeral - thanks to my amazing sister in law's gentle comforting. I was not a soggy mess, just a few appropriate tears (although what is appropriate is any body's guess) and I was strong enough to be there for the Hubster.
I am now feeling strangely free - I have cried away so much past hurt. I feel as if I am starting to move ahead and can look more clearly to my future. After a year of feeling blocked in my issues beyond my control, I can now start to plan again. I appreciate that this is the resolution of over ten year's grief.
As I feel stronger this weekend was a stark reminder. Our lovely friend Rob was building us some gorgeous book cases (that we originally commissioned about 3 or 4 years ago). I was thinking of Leon as previously he has done built all our amazing furniture, I realised how hard it must have been for the Hubster. As my grieving comes to an end, I hope I can be truly strong for the Hubster - as trust me, it is shit, but sooner or later it does get better!
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
Getting it out
This one is dedicated to Dawn AKA The Moiderer . I owned up to not being able to blog when I am on emotion overload and she has encouraged me to work through things. I have read her blog and it is always honest ranging from the laugh out loud to posts that have had me sobbing - I hope to take her honesty as inspiration.
So I am going to start off by giving an assessment of ME - what my blockers are and then I would love your feedback on what to unpick first.
Here is a school report of the factors affecting me. Which one should I unpack first on this blog?
Subject: General Well Being
Grade: A-
Summary: Sarah is generally very happy with a clear grasp of the issues that really matter.
Subject: Grief
Grade: B+
Summary: Sarah's husband recently lost his father, which meant that Sarah needed to take on a caring role, supporting her husband. This role was somewhat hampered by Sarah's residual grief for her own father who died eight years ago.
Subject: Motherhood
Grade: A
Summary: This grade is primarily for the joy that Sarah received from being a mother. She tries hard to strike a balance between being a fun Mum who always listens and a firm operator who keeps in check her daughters determined streak. She loves sharing the simple things in life from cooking and the garden to exploring science and world cuisine with the Pickle.
Subject: Fertility
Grade: C-
Summary: Sarah would dearly love another child and a sibling for the Pickle. Somehow she fails to remain totally focused on the task, aware that diet and fitness would greatly enhance her chances. After initially pursuing alternative therapies she is being cared for at the RBH fertility unit and has a few more months of chemical enhancement before IVF remains the only option.
Subject: Business
Grade: D
Summary: It has been a tough waiting year for Sarah as she has been unable to optimise the potential of her great idea through factors beyond their control. She is not complaining and has stayed sane, which may have been beyond many in her shoes.
Subject: Material wealth
Grade: B-
Summary: Sarah does not lack any of the basics, she has food an shelter and a wonderful home with potential. Everything in Sarah's material life seems to offer potential that she has yet to capitalise on. She has started the renovations in every room of the house pending more time and finance and the business growth has stalled pending the new version of the site going live. Six years on she is still grateful for heating, hot water and an inside loo - that we had to work so hard to install.
Please let me know and I will try my best to be honest and open in my response in my quest to tackle my fuddle.
So I am going to start off by giving an assessment of ME - what my blockers are and then I would love your feedback on what to unpick first.
Here is a school report of the factors affecting me. Which one should I unpack first on this blog?
Subject: General Well Being
Grade: A-
Summary: Sarah is generally very happy with a clear grasp of the issues that really matter.
Subject: Grief
Grade: B+
Summary: Sarah's husband recently lost his father, which meant that Sarah needed to take on a caring role, supporting her husband. This role was somewhat hampered by Sarah's residual grief for her own father who died eight years ago.
Subject: Motherhood
Grade: A
Summary: This grade is primarily for the joy that Sarah received from being a mother. She tries hard to strike a balance between being a fun Mum who always listens and a firm operator who keeps in check her daughters determined streak. She loves sharing the simple things in life from cooking and the garden to exploring science and world cuisine with the Pickle.
Subject: Fertility
Grade: C-
Summary: Sarah would dearly love another child and a sibling for the Pickle. Somehow she fails to remain totally focused on the task, aware that diet and fitness would greatly enhance her chances. After initially pursuing alternative therapies she is being cared for at the RBH fertility unit and has a few more months of chemical enhancement before IVF remains the only option.
Subject: Business
Grade: D
Summary: It has been a tough waiting year for Sarah as she has been unable to optimise the potential of her great idea through factors beyond their control. She is not complaining and has stayed sane, which may have been beyond many in her shoes.
Subject: Material wealth
Grade: B-
Summary: Sarah does not lack any of the basics, she has food an shelter and a wonderful home with potential. Everything in Sarah's material life seems to offer potential that she has yet to capitalise on. She has started the renovations in every room of the house pending more time and finance and the business growth has stalled pending the new version of the site going live. Six years on she is still grateful for heating, hot water and an inside loo - that we had to work so hard to install.
Please let me know and I will try my best to be honest and open in my response in my quest to tackle my fuddle.
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Always and forever
I did not mean to say those words, but maternal love is a funny thing. The Pickle just woke up and could not find me wondered downstairs in tears, so I scooped her up and told her how I loved her and was here for her, always and forever.
The irony could not be more acute - I am downstairs unable to sleep because the Hubster is away comforting his mother as his father died yesterday. Always and forever? My father in law was an amazing man, and I do think that his impact - and love - will be around always and forever. He was a Dad of five who could combine grit with tenderness, and the strength of presence that was an inspiration. But always and forever? Yes, certainly. He is the Hubster's role model and he is reflected in so many of his best qualities.
We can't promise to live forever, but I sincerely hope that, like Leon, my love for the Pickle throughout my life will give her the strength of character to support her through good times and bad, always and forever.
The irony could not be more acute - I am downstairs unable to sleep because the Hubster is away comforting his mother as his father died yesterday. Always and forever? My father in law was an amazing man, and I do think that his impact - and love - will be around always and forever. He was a Dad of five who could combine grit with tenderness, and the strength of presence that was an inspiration. But always and forever? Yes, certainly. He is the Hubster's role model and he is reflected in so many of his best qualities.
We can't promise to live forever, but I sincerely hope that, like Leon, my love for the Pickle throughout my life will give her the strength of character to support her through good times and bad, always and forever.
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