Not so much

Jam had a third miscarriage on Saturday. Early Sunday morning, really. There were mild cramps and spotting when we were buying fish'n'chips for Saturday lunch during our day down the coast, and then there were more cramps and some bleeding and then in the middle of the night we woke up and there was pain, a lot of pain, and not too much blood, but enough that the job was certainly done. It's easy enough to talk about and people have been very nice, and my parents are sending us back down the coast for the Easter weekend (not to the same place, I'm relieved to note). And there are worse things that happen at sea. Et cetera. But for crying out loud.

We bought some screen-printing stuff and we're taking it away with us and we're going to try art therapy. Even if it can't help us come to terms with three non-babies, perhaps it'll ease the pain of waiting SEVEN WEEKS to see a specialist. Time's a-wasting, friends. Time's a-wasting.

We both know that it's going to work out and that we will, at some point and in some way, be parents. But we want it now, and we're tired of not having it while lots of other people have it very nearby and by the way what will this mean for work and home-owning and the state of our ovaries and all the rest?? Rant over. Hope asleep.

still pregnant

Several days later and I am still pregnant, even though I got over stimulated contrary to my kinesiologist's advice and had a bit of a wig-out at a fair. I have been instructed to stay calm especially in the first trimester. I am doing very well so far and I can do very helpful things for this like eat really super well and meditate. I have books that are teaching me these things. I just had miso soup for breakfast and am cooking brown rice for later. Perhaps I will not, after all, be one of those pregnant women who treble their body weight in the first trimester. I am also being encouraged to excersise and intend to walk today-over to my mum's house for dinner tonight. My mum is completely over the moon. Donor Daddy made me a spinach pie.

Apparently fish is a good idea--she said justifying the image--but I am a vegetarian who ate a fish once when I was pregnant before and it tasted really fishy so I didn't like it.

Two lines.

I weed on a test last night and it was positive. I kind of knew it -I feel totally pregnant, and I don't feel premenstrual. Turns out they are a bit different. Oh my God. I am just gobsmacked...so are the other two. I reckon this is going to work this time. I reckon we got our selves a proper little friend in there, growing beautifully. My period is only just due today, so I really shouldn't be shouting it from the rooftops yet. So I'll just put it on the internet for now. Actually, we'll just tell peeps when we see them or think to or want to, pretty much. And they can get fucked if they don't want to know until the second trimester...

I'm really hungry. I want my Girlfriend to come home so we can get excited together for longer. I'm going to make pizza. I'm going to be one of those preggas women what treble their bodyweight in the first trimester.

I'm glad. And I'm proud of us all. I'm really looking forward to this baby and I'm not scared to get my hopes up because what is the point in all the trouble of getting pregnant if you're not going to be excited and hopeful about your baby when you finally succeed?

Dear blog,

Another cycle is nearly over-for better or worse-and I have much to tell you. But it is so similar is many ways to every other cycle that I simply have not bothered, and have rather felt you should just go back and read the old entries and ad lib to fade.

But notably, I have had Kinesiology treatment twice during this cycle for the purposes of sorting out the miscarriage problem. Apparently I have been over producing adrenaline , like , all my life and anyone who knows anything about that or early pregnancy will know that you can't really have a surge of adrenaline while early pregnant and get off scott free. Things in the kinesiology room made sense to me. It is an incredible art of reading the body based on reflexes. My neo-natal reflex commonly referred to as the Startle Reflex (its actually the "Moro" reflex), was a bit out of wack and the nice man fixed it. Apparently I am good to go in terms of conceiving and carrying a baby full term. My headaches, of which there have been many, have abated since the treatment, which is apparently an indication of the adrenaline business evening out. I'm feeling positive about the full term thing. Now, I won't freak out totally when i do get pregs. Which could be now (according to my mother it's now) or could be next cycle perhaps. A few days to go till KT180 and I can bring ourselves to do a test. Stay tuned...this is getting good.

plus, how funny is that sign? Lake Macquarie Resort that I went to do a gig at had it, plus many kookaburras, who i really dig. They laugh at all my jokes.

Every month the same old song

I think it's harder for me this month than it's been for a long time. I don't mean the scheduling or the mucous-examining or the inseminations themselves. In fact, I feel entirely isolated from the process --- you two bio-parents have had such inelastic timetables that I have missed out on almost all of that. But I am bone-weary, dear Jammy. I have no idea in my head that it will ever be different from this.

I know I shouldn't complain. We can be lesbians without getting into trouble (even if we can't get onto the same Medicare card). We have food and drink and access to cheap manufactured goods. Neither of us is sick or on the run from justice. I don't want to complain. But I'm scared by the sheer quantity of what is denied me. I don't want everything ever. I don't. But I want you and a baby and to feel less sad. That's a lot, isn't it? Now that I see it written out I understand that it's a lot. Okay. I'll get back to work.

annother no

Ended up getting my period. So, fuck everyone and everything. According to the blog I am one of two determined young women. God, I hope so. Gonna need it. Not sure where my life is going. Possibly nowhere. Really quite possibly. In all areas. And no-one and nothing can or will help. With anything.Ever.

Period: or The End

Swennyway. Not so much with the proto-girl just yet. Mind you, dear Mother-in-Law did say ten months, did she not? I mean, her maths is pretty dodgy, but she has had quite a few children, not to mention some nursing training. She does know about the forty weeks, doesn't she? I suppose her 'Good News on the Second of March' promise is strictly speaking yet to be broken.

GOD GOD GOD I AM SICK OF WAITING. Perhaps we should be grateful, as we hurtle ever closer to our own mortality, for anything capable of making time crawl. Because crawl it does. Fourteen days (except really more like nineteen or sometimes thirty) and then an ovulation. And then the world's slowest fortnight (slower with every passing cycle) while we wait and watch your nipples --- harbingers of false hope --- FAR TOO CLOSELY.

And there are heavily pregnant women everywhere. And we see them and then look at each other and that weird mind-reading thing happens and we have to hold hands or look at the ground. Or both.

I'm not mad at your ovaries or anything. I totally still blame my grandmother. Your mother might be psychic, but Granny has a hotline to the pre-Vatican-II Wrathful God Of All. (He might have been made redundant, but that doesn't mean he's not still around. He pops out of his assisted-care villa in the sky and takes over from Happy-Clappy New-Millenium Gentle Father whenever he's called upon by the kinds of little old women who sometimes go to the Greek Orthodox Church as a personal protest against the Vernacular Mass. My Granny doesn't. But she probably would if she'd thought of it.)

And every month might make me closer to my own Use By Date, but it also makes us that much closer to buying a little flat. And each month I accrue another 1.6 (recurring) days of annual leave to spend with you when we really do have a little Blessed Burden of our own.

I love you gigantically. It's so big that even my (if I do say so myself, enormous) heart is stretched and heavy.

My head is swimming with it.