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.
It was well past midnight when we finally got home from our flight from Sydney after our weekend of "baster-related" activities. El Prima was exhausted, and went straight to bed, and I meant to, but I kept coming back to the lucky 10c piece which we'd found yesterday (on the lucky date of 10/10/10).
I'd spent Saturday afternoon with a dear friend who is doing IVF, and had an embryo transfer on Friday, and we sat there eating yum cha - compatriots in this strange lottery of trying to get pregnant. When I found out that she was having the transfer, and that we'd cross paths in Sydney, I suddenly felt very pagan, and adapted one of my mum's shell mobiles to craft a little fertility charm for her - copper wire, mother-of-pearl, a shell spiraling into itself and infinity, and purple cotton yarn to connect all these things.
So when I got home to our house, quiet with the girls sleeping, I thought, I need to mark this moment - to embrace the hope and to give my little pagan thanks that we are finally back in the game - and to somehow weave together our love and grief for Z with the hope that one day we might bring home a living brother or sister for her. In the two days we'd been away, the sage bush in our front yard had burst into dark purple leafed flower. I went out, in the mild spring night, and cut two sprigs, and put them in the cornelia shot glass in our bathroom. I tucked the 10c piece into one of the shells which hang above the bath (also from my mum). And then, with the same special matches I use to light Z's candle, I lit a new little light.
Who knows what will happen? We've tossed* the coin, now we just have to wait two weeks to see which way it lands. We might be lucky, or it might take us a long time. But I'm so glad to at least be back in the game. Wish us luck. (and tell me, do you have little luck rituals? Do they work for you(either to make the good things happen, or to make you feel better about the trying)? I felt so secretive and embarrassed about this - I wasn't sure whether to post it or not. I know it doesn't make sense, and I know that these things won't change our odds, but they do help my heart, so that I can sit with this uncertainty and not let it drive me crazy)
And in related fertility news, look at my broad beans! We ate our first little crop tonight, with fresh tagliatelle, pesto and parmesan. So so good.
El Prima - my *ex* partner & aaineh number one. Yep, she's a lady. And so am I. Scandalous. Even better, she's Lebanese - and not just in a euphemistic way.
"the girls" - El Prima's two teenage daughters, Snacky & Snazzy, who live with us, and put up with my poor attempts at stepmama-ing. Her eldest daughter is 20 and living in another city. Snacky moved up to Sydney to study in Feb 2012 after finishing high school. Snazzy still lives with us (or at the house, with El Prima) and visits me and Ali where we are staying with friends,
Z - (aka Haloumi or khallila) our baby daughter, who died from placental abruption at 34w in the car accident on 27 December 2009.
Ali - long awaited little brother to the girls and to Z, born in May 2012
*edited on 13 July to add*
[where did my ticker go? It broke - I guess pregnancy tickers don't magically transform into "x days since our baby would hypothetically have been born, had she not died 6 weeks before" tickers. And I'm not sure I need a little program to tell me anyway.]
*edited on 11 Jan 2010 to add*
I think the reason why I'm leaving this ticker up here is because it is important to my mourning right now. We've had a funeral for our beautiful little girl, but in accordance with El Prima's faith (and my wishes) we will have a further, more public, ceremony around 40 days after she died. In some kind of wierd coincidence, 40 days was almost exactly how many days were left until her due date at the time she died. (I think that counts as irony of the saddest kind)
So while the significance has changed so radically, we are still counting down to something, even if it is not what we expected.
The fine print
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