"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.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Not Molar!

There has been much punching of the air in the last 2 minutes around here - not only was yesterday day 1, but I finally got a call from someone at the Womens telling me that the genetic testing has come back, and PLB was definitively NOT a molar pregnancy. (oh PLB. I wish I was hypothesising about who you might be rather than celebrating the fact of something you weren't) If it feels windy where you are, that is probably me exhaling after five weeks worth of holding my breath. No, that isn't exactly true. Okay, it's a big fat lie.

Somewhere after my last post, after I had been holding my breath for so long (metaphorically, people)that I just wanted to vehemently push each minute past me and away from me - just throw it away - I couldn't do it any more. I did kind of break, and came closer to realio trulio mental hospitalio madness than I ever wanted to come. But in breaking, I also exhaled, and felt what it might be like to live without hope dragging me forwards into an imaginary future moment. And I breathed in all the scary things that a molar pregnancy might mean - not knowing whether I could get pregnant again for 6 months, a year or ever, chemo, having to do stupid 24 hour urine tests and carry 4L plastic containers of my own wee into the Womens every week. And I breathed out, because I wasn't there yet, and every little second standing between me and a 4L urine sample container was a precious precious thing.

Breathing in an uncomfortable spot like that can be hard, but I've had lots of practice at it by now. I take great pride in the fact that when my brother and sister in law (both dive instructors) took me for my first ever ocean scuba dive this January, I used less oxygen than either of them, despite freaking out under water about how to clear my mask. See - that's my talent - breathing. Simple but actually pretty important.

I hope this is making sense. It isn't as though my life could go to bits and I'd still be happy as la-la because I could breathe, but you take comfort where you find it - and given my luck, I can't really be too picky. The work incident also reminded me how much I value my work - and forced me to start being more assertive with work, rather than continuing to be hedgehog-like and resentful about it.

I've missed my bloggy family, but needed to put my head down for a bit, and focus on holding onto my job, and breathing. We also got news over easter that left me without words - dear friends of ours who lost their baby boy last year, greeted a beautiful baby daughter - but she was in distress at birth, and was put on life support. She held on for four days, so she could meet all four grandparents, and then died in her parents' arms. Those 49 words can't possibly convey a scrap of it. Two entire universes-worth of love. I know that this is unfixable, as much as I've come to accept that my loss of Z is unfixable, but still my mechanical brain spent days going in circles, trying to think a way out of it for them.

I'm sorry I've been quiet for so long. I feel like I've done a bit of a mental spring clean - and am hopefully coming back a little bit fresher, even if I'm a little heavier with this news for our friends.


  1. Disappearing is necessary every now and then, but I'm glad that you're back, and even more glad for the news that it wasn't a molar pregnancy.

    I am heartbroken for your friends, though, and will keep them in my thoughts.

  2. You know, it has been very breezy here the past few days!

    I'm very very glad you can breath a sigh of relief over the molar question.

    I'm so very sorry for your friends. I understand that going round in circles trying to make it all right again. I still do that myself.

    Much love to them, and to you. x

  3. So very pleased for you that you have the best news of a bad situation.

    And oh my goodness, your friends. This should not be able to happen twice.

  4. Oh Hanen.

    Yay! It's not molar and you can keep trying - relief is indeed the word.

    Sorry we buggered off right when things were so hard.

    Oh no, oh no, no no no no no. Your friends. Just so terribly sad and unfair.

  5. So very pleased, and relieved, to read your news. And also, so very, very sorry to read about your friends. Tragic in whichever way you look at it.
    We've missed you.

  6. We are here when and if you need us. Sending love to you and your friend. Devastating news. xo

  7. Oh such devastating news from your friends. :( I'm so glad to hear your pregnancy wasn't Molar, though, and am glad that you are breathing a little easier these days.

  8. So very very sad for your friends. Everyone's worst nightmare, come true twice. It's too much to fathom.

    I am so relieved to hear your good news, Hanen. I was thinking of you yesterday and hoping you had heard back from your doctor, and here I come to this update today.

    Thinking of you and sending love, as always.

  9. Hanen, so good to hear you exhaling, OMG your friends' story laves me utterly breathless at the sheer pain of it. My heart goes out to them, strangers once removed.

    I am very glad that PLB was not molar after all. What an enormous relief, though not the relief we had hoped for in the first place. I miss you. I am glad to hear from you.

    I think about you and your family often, and as you head toward winter, know that we are green and budding here. There is always springtime somewhere.

  10. I hope you had a wonderful spring clean! And it's wonderful news that it wasn't a molar pregnancy.

    And so, so sorry to hear of your friends' loss. I know what you mean about a few words being inadequate to explain a universe of feeling.

  11. so glad to read your head line. i have been hoping for this for you. phew and youpiii - maybe a change in luck?! -or whatever it is that determines what happens next- i will hope. thanks for thinking about us and esther. your friends too. bisous xxx

  12. Thanks, Hanen, for visiting and for your lovely comment.
    My first pregnancy was molar. It was terrible at the time, especially because it was in the days before ultrasounds, so I had to wait until 16 weeks, when I could have an Xray, and then had to have delivery induced.
    I was told to wait before becoming pregnant again, but no-one explained to me about the risks, so ten months later I gave birth to my first child, a beautiful daughter who turns 40 later this year. I was 23 then and I thought I'd never have a baby. My mother always said that's why I went on to have four - couldn't stop once I'd started.
    I wish you happiness, and success in your endeavours.