"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.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Being here

Little girl

Four years strong.

Tree-climbing, conversation making
Child.  Putter-on of your own
Shoes and socks
(I'll help you with the laces,
my love)
Four years of ghost memories and
I'm still no more certain of
your hypothetical self
Had you lived to four.

But still, I feel I know
More of you
From the tiny glimpses I get
(I'll take any that come my way).

Kids tell serious stories
Using your eyebrows.
Your colours - that orangey-pink-red and the
Grassy pale green, retro light blue
Are apparently fashionable this year.
Every rose and its scent
Is yours by right.
The crush of petal to lip.
Your sleeping brother's eyelashes.
His insistence.
The new warble of young magpies.
The whole moon and your star's
Side of the darkening sky.

I piece you together from
These clues.
I want to find you nearby
To make these circles overlap:
Knowing my child is okay
and Being here.

Yes, it has been yonks.  So many yonks that here we are again, back at Z's time of year.  Divorce, selling the house, working again, being mama have all kept me in a constant path of motion, so it is good and also scary to have a little pause.  I am thankful.  It all could have been so much worse.  The break-up nastiness was shortlived and we're both so delighted to be out of the relationship (and to have sold the house for more than expected) that there is actually goodwill between us, as well as huge love and concern for Ali and Snazzy.  It's hard to know what I feel, though, while everything is still in boxes, awaiting removal from the old house, storage, and unpacking in my new space.  We've been in some state of renovation or divorce induced transit since february.  Why do I need physical possessions in order to feel my feelings?  I don't know.  That's not quite it - it's more the energy that managing possessions across three places and in various states of packed / unpacked requires.  I aspire to own less

I had decided back in July that I wanted to start marking the 28th as Z's birthday, which it actually is - but our accident was on the evening of the 27th, and because there was no sleep that night, and because of that confusing death and birth in the wrong order thing, I had always marked it as the 27th.  A big mashed-up birthday, deathday, accident anniversary sadfest.  This year is the first time I have actually been able to start distinguishing between the grief and the trauma, and I think I optimistically thought I was 'over' the trauma.  But these last few weeks it has come back to bite me with nightmares and feeling triggered and hypervigilant while driving.  So I think I need to mark the 27th as well - even if just to keep it firmly in my gaze because I don't trust it enough to be an ordinary day. 


  1. Beautiful poem. I think that I know the experience that you describe, snatching at those tiny glimpses. Sweet Z, you are so missed - how four years pass without you I simply don't know.

    I am glad that the nastiness is over and that good will remains. I hope that the unpacking goes smoothly and you are soon settled in your new place.

    Thinking of you, Ali, Snazzy and El Prima over these coming days especially and remembering your precious little Haloumi. Dear little Z.

  2. Thanks so much Catherine. Sending lots of love to you and yours too. I really wondered if anyone was still reading here when I'd been so quiet for so long, so it is lovely to hear from you. xxx

  3. I will always be reading. Through your poem I could see, really see Zainab in my minds eye, and then I cried because, well, you know exactly why I cried. We all love you and can't wait to have you living closer.

    1. Thanks S. Yep, me too - on both the crying and hurray for being on the same train line very soon!!

  4. Hello! I do wish you would post more often-I love your poetry. Z will always be caught up in the smell of cut oranges for me...
    We are going away for a week to Tathra, and we will be toasting Z with red wine on the 27th and remembering her with something yum on the 28th (cake!) and wishing upon her star on New Year's Eve.
    Looking forward to our next chaotic catch-up. Lots of love to you and A and your many boxes. xxxc

    1. Oh, I have grand ambitions for more posts in 2014, thanks Bean! And yes, cut oranges - I was so overjoyed when that was the first food that Ali wanted to eat, when we were sitting on the old back step before the house was renovated. Have fun in Tathra and thanks so much for your lovely thoughts. Mmmm cake... I like that thought. Happy birthday kiss to S for new year's day and look forward to seeing you in 2014. Safe travels and big love xxxxxh

  5. I lost my first child, a little girl in November -she was stillborn at 36 weeks, someone, somehow directed me to your blog and I read all of it in those first weeks and it lead me to others to find comfort and understanding and even hope that there is a way through this so thank you! Your writing is beautiful. Halloumi sounded gorgeous and I too will remember her.
    sending love to you, her and Ali from Seren - a babylost mama/stranger on the internet xx

  6. Hello Seren, I am so sorry to hear that your beautiful daughter died before she was born. I am sending you so much love. Thank you so much for reading my blog and for remembering Halloumi - I'm so glad to hear that the connection with the online babyloss community is some solace to you. There *is* a way through this - it will be your own way, but we are here with you. As unwelcome and painful as it is, heartbreak of losing a child also expands your heart, and forces you to grow in ways that might not have been possible before. For me, that growth helps me face the loss and sadness - the two exist side by side. I know I am a more compassionate person because she is my daughter, and that I understand more about life and death than I did before. I hope you can be tender with yourself and your grief - I remember when I was still counting the days since I held my daughter, and when I could hardly experience anything except her loss. Take care and please email me if you'd like to talk in a less public forum xxxxxx Hannah

    1. Hi Hannah yes I would love to email if you wouldn't mind? Excuse my stupidity but where would I find your email address? (spot who doesn't do blogging) Thanks so much Seren

  7. Hello Seren! No, not your stupidity at all - I'm sure there was a way to see it, but now that I look, I don't know where it is. But I can give it to you here :) it is hannah underscore robert at yahoo dot com dot au - but with no spaces and symbols not spelled out - if that makes sense. xxh

  8. i am always amazed by your ability to find the right words... you're fantastic. Happy no.4 birthday ZZZZ. xk

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