Ponderous Thoughts

Jenni at One Thing has posted a series of "would you rather" questions, asking about things like Twilight, vomit, Robert Downey Jr., and sheep's brains. (Um.. not all in the same question.. that would be weird.) The last question was "Would you rather answer all of these questions, or come up with 10 of your own?" I answered her questions, as I'm not sure I'm capable of coming up with 10 of my own, but there are 2 that I've thought about quite a bit over the years.

The first one is easy, and coming up a lot at the moment: Would you rather keep coughing all night, or actually take some of that disgusting cough mixture?

Coughing usually wins. That stuff truly is FOUL. And it doesn't seem to have much of an impact on my cough.

The second one is harder, but one that I'm extremely unlikely to ever have to properly think about again. Would you rather go into labour entirely alone, with no opportunity to get someone to help, or have your waters break spectacularly in the middle of a shopping centre?

Hmm. Solo Birth, or Extreme Embarrassment? Before I had kids (and I used to ponder this while I was pregnant with Critter, so I'm really not just making this up), I would have taken the Solo Birth. I probably would have died of embarrassment if my waters broke in the middle of a shopping centre, and women all around the world have babies all the time, without the aid of a plethora of medical staff. We've been doing it for thousands of years. Our bodies are MADE to do it.

Then I had Critter. I was in labour for only 4 hours, he got stuck, and I lost a lot of blood. I was on iron tablets for over a year to get my iron count back up, and I have NEVER had a problem with iron levels. After that, I started thinking that maybe I wouldn't be one of those women who could do the whole solo birth thing. Then again, my mother had fast labours, and hers were relatively uneventful.

And then, I had Gosling.

Knowing that a four hour labour with the first child is VERY FAST, and that labours tend not to get longer with subsequent children, my husband already insisted that we head to the hospital at the first signs of labour. In the end that wasn't necessary. At my 39 week check they ended up deciding I needed an emergency c-section, when the baby's heartbeat dropped so low I thought the machines were just picking up me. That was probably the most terrifying day of my life.

If I ever get pregnant again, Solo Birth is not going to be an option. I will camp out on the hospital doorstep for the last month if necessary. I am just not someone who can have a baby alone. I hate having babies in the hospital. I hate the fact that pregnancy is treated as a disease as much as a natural process, and that birth is considered impossible without medical intervention. But, without medical intervention, there's a possibility that I could have died having my first child, or that my second would never have made it out alive.

And really, after an open-door hospital birth and a c-section, so many people have seen me naked that a little amniotic fluid in the middle of Westfield probably wouldn't even phase me.

This has not been a great week

Spaceghost can't seem to make up its mind whether to be super-low-down causing me aches in rather uncomfortable places, or all-stretched-out making it hard to breathe. Combined with the weather, this makes for a rather uncomfortable Sarah.

But I can deal with that.

What I'm finding harder to deal with is the fact that my father is currently in hospital with septicemia.

On wednesday afternoon, at nearly 4pm, I was getting ready to leave the house to go pick up critterbug from pre-school, when the phone rang. Since I had to leave the house in less than 10min and was only halfway dressed, I ignored the phone, and checked the answer machine just before I left. I heard something along the lines of this:

*VERY QUIET VOICE* mumble mumble mumble dad, mumble mumble mumble north shore private hospital mumble bone infection mumble mumble mumble

I turned up the volume as high as I could on the machine, but my father gets a bit incoherent when he's sick, and that was all I could make out.

Figuring there was nothing I could do to sort out the message, I left the house, and continued on my way to pick up my son. I texted my sister when I got to the bus stop, since calling dad would have resulted in more incoherence. She didn't have much more information. He was unwell, presumably some sort of infection, but they couldn't find it. They suspected he had an abcess of some sort, and were going to do a scan to figure out what it was. The were trying to put him on antibiotics, but couldn't get an IV in because his veins kept on collapsing. And of course, he thought he was dying. My father is a bit of a hypochondriac, and always thinks he's going to die whenever he has an operation, but this time he actually sounded very very sick.

Yesterday she had more info for me. They suspected septicemia, and he still thought he was dying. My father has rheumatoid arthritis, and therefor a compromised immune system. He doesn't get sick very often, since his body his constantly fighting everything including itself, but when he DOES get sick, he gets SICK. And in much the same way that AIDS sufferers tend to die from some random other infection that they can't fight because of the AIDS, apparently RA sufferers tend to die from mass infection. He's had a few scares in the past 10 years: an incompetent doctor who gave him 10x recommended dose of Methotrexate, making him extra-ordinarily sick, and thereby cutting it out of his treatment regime since he developed some sort of allergy and couldn't take it any more; an abcess on his spine which spread infection elsewhere (his elbow looked like someone had put a tennis ball under the skin, and felt like over-ripe fruit), and when trying to remove said abcess, the doctors managed to break his neck, though thankfully the spinal cord was undamaged. And now this.

Today I got a text from him. "seems clear i have septiccemia improving now hopefully home mid next week with aintibiotic drip pump sewn into me. will know more after scan monday."

I'm praying that he'll be OK, that he'll get over this the same way he's gotten over everything else. But I'm scared. Septicemia is not something to be taken lightly.

fearful noises

as a parent, one of the most terrifying things i have ever heard is silence. sounds odd doesnt it? but really, silence can be scary. there are other scary noises for a parents, but silence is definitely up there.

my critter was a noisy baby. he snuffled. so much that we actually HAD to put him in a different room in order to get any sleep. if he was within about 3 metres of us, we couldnt sleep because all we could hear was snuffling. he was also the kind of baby that wakes up every 2-3 hours regardless of whether he needs feeding or changing. he would wake up, scream for a few minutes, then go back to sleep. wasnt THAT fun.

so back to scary silence.

one morning i woke up feeling oddly refreshed. i lay in bed for a minute, enjoying the peace and quiet. i rolled over, and glanced at the clock. 7am. what a good nights sleep! wait.. a good nights sleep... but my baby wakes me up every couple hours.. why didnt he wake me up during the night? not only that... even if he slept all night, why did i wake up ON MY OWN this morning? oh please Lord dont let there be anything wrong with my baby.. and i ran into his room, heart pounding, not knowing whether to be terrified or not.... to find that my mother had got up to him during the night. gee mum, give me a heart attack why dont you?

what made me think of this was waking up this morning to silence. my family is afflicted with a horrible cough. i seem to be the only one who's lost a voice in return for the cough, thankfully, but my boys are coughing up their lungs just as bad as i am. so when i woke up this morning, and heard NO COUGHING from my sons room.... i panicked again. after all the stuff thats been on the news the past couple of months about this horrible flu thats going round... and that poor woman who woke up to find her son had died from flu during the night...

silence is a very scary sound.

pain

i am having so much trouble right now, dealing with all the household stuff. i love my mother dearly, but i so wish my little family was our own, and not living with her still. everything is so expensive, i sometimes wonder if we will ever live jsut us. although if she does indeed take the job in adelaide, we will live here and pay rent, adn that will make things easier. but still, i worry about money, whether i ought to find a place for my critter in daycare and find myself a job, and i know hubby thinks it would be good for him, to spend time with other kids, to socialise. (personally i think we should just have more kids, and the kids can socialise with each other, but hubby doesnt know if he ever wants more, and the subject doesnt seem to be open for discussion at the moment. or in fact ever.) but i like being able to be at home. to cook, to wash, to raise my own son. who would cook if i was at work? when would the laundry get done, if it rains on the weekend, and im not home during the week when its dry? when would my husbands shirts get ironed, if im getting ready to leave in the morning at the same time he is? (i iron as needed, since everything gets re-wrinkled in the wardrobe, and ironing twice seems a waste of time.) and seeing as i have absolutely no qualifications, and even something like a receptionist seems to require a masters degree, what kind of job could i get that paid enough for it to all be worth it? to cover daycare fees, transport to and from work, buying ready to eat food, laundromat/drycleaner, and still ahve enough left over to contribute something to mortgage/rent/savings/whatever. i realise i am possibly being overdramatic here. but there is also the possibility this is entirely acurate. a few months ago i had a look for jobs. i am not certain there is anything out there at a decent wage that i would get. a job in a video store, although short hours and something i can easily do, is not a very big contribution, and the wage would very possibly be taken up entirely in daycare fees.

not just finacial problems either. i am getting over the heartwrenching pain, and i am not crying nearly as much, but it still hurts, and i still fear, and i miss my child. i know that it was small - i wasnt even sure it was there till it was gone - and broken, through no fault of my own, or my husband's, and there was nothing i could have done. but to feel that life stop.. and i know that it must not ahve been God's will, for us not to ahve another child now, but that doesnt make me miss my child any less. and i know that everything God does is for a reason, but that doesnt make me any less angry with him. and i know that it is ok to be angry, but that doesnt make me any less disapointed in myself. and i know that my dear one has bypassed all the terrible horrible things in this world, that it is now with God, protected and loved, and waiting till one day i am there too, that there will be no suffering, no pain, no heartache, for my dear unknown little one, but that doesnt make me want any less to hold my child in my arms, to watch it grow, to feel it grow. none of it stops the tears, or the pain.

dear God give me strength, i cannot get through this without you. i know you have a plan for each of us, but why must mine tear at me so? fill me with your peace, surround me with your love. i kneel before you in tatters, begging to be made whole again. i ask for myself, and for my family, who need me to be in good working order. to keep my house for my husband, to not neglect my son who is with me. to be support for my mother, and companion for my sister. i cannot do this alone. please lord, give me strength. strengthen my heart, to accept what has happened. to accept that i could not change this, that it is not up to me, and it is equally not my fault. strengthen me to do what i need to do, to live my life, to get on with my works, and give me the strength and courage to talk to my husband when i need to, to not try and deal on my own. to let him help me as he wants to help me, and not push him away. and please lord, let my body be ok. things are not back to normal. give me courage to see a doctor, so i can be sure of my health and my ability to do my work. in Christs name.

crying and praying alwyas make me feel better. but it is so hard. i so want another child. and knowing that my husband currently does not, and NOT knowing if he ever will... its so hard. i know he is worried for me. life was hard after the critter was born. i know my husband has my best interests at heart, that he only wants for me to be healthy, but i so want another child. and i miss this one so much. so so so so much. my dear one. would ahve been nearly half way there by now. time passes so strangely. ten weeks since my life went downhill. it feels like such a short time ago, and yet it also feels like years have passed. i need God's strength to get out of this funk, to get on with my life, to be there for my family. i know ive been no good these past few weeks, and i try so hard but i just cant do it... i will do it, and i will do it without medication. i will be a loving wife, a joyful mother, a happy housekeeper, with God's strength and peace i can do anything. but i give myself licence to cry. bottling up is not good.

i got through the toughest other time of my life, my son's birth, with God's and my husband's help, and i can get through this.