"Edited to Add"....

This started as a pregnancy blog when I fell pregnant in May 2009 after four years of finding a donor, doing all the counselling / paperwork / tests and trying.

And now, thanks to a 4WD which skidded onto our side of the road, killing our baby daughter at 34w and injuring me, my partner and two of my stepdaughters on 27 December 2009, it has turned into something else. We didn't want this something else, but apparently it is all we've got to go on with.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

On being a terrible blogger & new things

When I returned to blogging to start this blog (a long long time ago on the other side of the abyss), I promised myself that it would be guilt-free blogging. With my previous blog, that was what had killed it - the guilt and shame of not having posted for x days, which made it all too hard to actually post again. So this time, I promised it would be just about writing when I needed / wanted to, and not out of any sense of guilt or shame.

I'm not kidding myself that I have lots of readers out there waiting for me to post something - if anyone is reading this, then you are exceedingly patient and persistent - thank you xx But guilt-free blogging doesn't mean I don't feel sorry for the few of you reading - so my apologies for being a terrible blogger.

Walking the dogs, we were wind-blown and on our grumpy way home. And there in front of us on Murray Road was a café that wasn’t there before – all new pot plants and fresh paint smell. But also a toasty cheesy smell – maybe we were hungry after all. We are greeted warmly into the place by – we’re guessing – one of its new owners. He’s excited to see us, he’s read us already – two women, two dogs, and concludes rightly that we’re “family”. Just like we’ve read him, his earring, his manner of speaking and his glances towards the man in the kitchen. He fusses over us, explains that there is only a limited menu at the moment as their in the process of converting the stove. “When did you open?” I ask.
“Saturday last”, he shines with all the enthusiasm of someone starting their own dream project. He’s not tired yet.

When we go, his partner comes out of the kitchen, they introduce themselves. I explain that we’re new to the area, and so happy to find a good little café so close by. “Come by whenever you want – sit and read, or write”, he says.

I’m excited, but also sad for what I’ll eventually have to tell them, if we become friends. We will watch their faces fall, shock unrolling from them – both at the awfulness of it and also that we are here, ordering coffee, as though life goes on as normal after a child dies.


  1. The telling is hard, over and over.

    And don't be sorry. Not for us, certainly. This is your space, and here for what you need it for.

  2. You're not a terrible blogger and I'm not particularly patient, but I AM persistent. You write beautifully about the most devastating thing I can imagine. Please keep at it, when you can, and know that there are those of us here waiting to read and appreciating you with every word. Peace to you and your family.

  3. no way you're coming off my feed reader.

    and the new cafe sounds like the perfect location for a friday morning cuppa. we'll get there eventually!

  4. What a lovely place to have so close by. I'm glad you went there again to have milkshakes.

    I guess life both does and doesn't go on as normal - pub trivia and eggplant parma are 'normal', but the path to lead you there on a windy Melbourne Sunday afternoon isn't. It was wonderful to see you - xxx

  5. Kate - Thanks so much for the reassurances & for your persistence xxxx I will keep bashing away at it, even if it can't be beautiful all the time.

    Sorensen - New cafe is lovely - let us know when your fridays mornings are workable.

    Leo - Exactly. As callous as it seems for life to keep going, I guess it would be an Even Worse Thing if it didn't. Good to see you & D too. xxxxx