Shuffling forward

This afternoon I walked past Mothercare without wanting to cry. Sounds pretty mundane, but this is a real achievement and a noteable step forward for me. Previously accidentally walking past a baby shop - I surreptitiously planned my journeys to avoid walking past them - would have been enough to dissolve me into archetypal crazy lady cliche, so upset I could easily have lain prostrate on the ground and cried my own little river.

Today I noted the babies in the window display, but my first thought was - 'aaah cute' and then I moved on, not 'I want one' which would invariably lead into 'why did I lose my baby, what if I can't ever have a baby, why does everyone else have babies, why is everyone else happy, why is the world so cruel...'. So, a welcome little shuffle forwards back towards the land of normality, methinks. Let's hope I keep shuffling...

The most terrible time

I saw in the weekend's papers that Kelly Brook has spoken out about her miscarriage. She has described it as "the hardest, most terrible time in my life". I really empathise with her. For the Boy and I losing our baby was the most painful experience we have been through, and for Kelly to have lived out her loss in the public eye and in the media must have been even more devastating. I can't imagine what it must have been like for her - I felt like such a failure in front of my friends, family and colleagues, and for Kelly to have had her tragedy splashed on the front pages of the red tops must have been incredibly difficult.

I really applaud her for speaking out so bravely about what she has been through and I find her words a huge comfort. In my opinion, going through a miscarriage can be a very lonely experience. I've found that while the Boy and I were very lucky to have so much love and support at the beginning, of course people's lives move on and they forget what you have been through or choose not to talk about it for fear of upsetting us. But the Boy and I will never forget. I've found lately that I can feel lonely at times with my loss, but Kelly's words reach out from the pages to me and remind me it is an experience shared - sadly - by many others and paradoxically there is a reassurance in that. I am reminded we are not alone, and therein lies the irony of both more sadness that so many others suffer, yet more comfort that we are not the only ones.

Kelly's full words were: "It was the hardest, most terrible time of my life. You feel emptiness, sadness, guilt, loss. I take it one day at a time. One moment you don't even think about it, the next you're crying hysterically. But it's complicated isn't it? There are moments of total sadness and devastation, and moments of relief too. But you also have to remember that it's life. Stuff like that happens."

I don't think I could have explained the last few months better, or summed it up any more cohesively myself. I really thank Kelly for being able to share her loss in such a human and dignified way, and I hope other ladies - and their Boys - going through a dark time are able to take some comfort from her words in the way that I have.

Front Porch Visitors

Our family spends a lot of time on our front porch.  It's not a big porch but there is a two-seater swing, two rockers and a small bench so it's the perfect cozy place to hang out in the summer.  

 My husband loves birds and he spends a lot of time feeding them and with the heat we've been having, he keeps all the birdbaths filled with fresh, cool water.   

Over the years we've had a number of hummingbird feeders, but a couple of years ago at the Powers' Crossroads Country Fair and Arts Festival  we found a handmade pottery hummingbird feeder that has brought us so many beautiful hummingbirds.   Because our porch is so small the birds are always just a few feet away so we are able to capture some beautiful photographs.   If you look carefully as you watch the video my husband filmed yesterday you will see the hummingbird's tongue.   Read a bit more about the hummingbird tongue here.

Today I'm linking up with The Tablescaper for Seasonal Sundays.   Hop on over and enjoy other scenes of summer.  

Hard work

It's been a while since I did this on here, but I'm in need of a quick rant this morning so bear with me. I think I'm going to (a) scream (b) punch someone (c) both of the above (!) if another well-meaning relative, colleague or friend tells me what hard work being a parent is. I accept that by not yet being a mum I don't know what it's like to have a child and be with that child, responsible for it and caring for it 24/7 - I understand that. But it really galls me when they look at me with a knowing, sympathetic smile and shake their heads saying I'll find being a mum so demanding and such hard work.

Various reactions run through my mind, which I'll try to surmise here. Probably for the best for me to process them and pin them down, as I suspect that if I don't do this, one of these days some poor soul is going to say the wrong thing and get a torrent of Elly Beans abuse that isn't at all justified! So, here we go:

REALLY? I'd like to think by the ripe old age of 33 I've picked up a little life experience and haven't spent more than three decades with my head buried in the sand. While I haven't been a parent I'm not a complete naive imbecile, and I can well imagine how demanding it might be. While I know I won't and can't fully appreciate the complexity and diversity of  parenting unless I experience it myself, I like to think I have enough empathy and understanding to be aware of what might lie ahead if we are lucky enough to have a child.

YOU MANAGE. Maybe this is a little mean, but I'm constantly surprised by my peers who have just become parents telling me how hard it is to be a mum without appreciating the irony. Before they were parents they were just like me, and while their lives have changed now they are parents, they manage. I don't see many differences in our characters or make-up, and in fact I perceive my relationship with the Boy to be stronger than some other relationships around me as he is very giving and wants to be fully involved as a dad, so while I'm sure it is incredibly difficult - if they cope, with as much if not more support around me, why wouldn't I?

IT'S BETTER THAN THE ALTERNATIVE. I suspect this is the real reason that these fairly empty and innocuous words press my buttons in the way that they do, because it's a pretty harmless phrase that irritates me so much. Many of the friends and colleagues who say this to me have been lucky in their experiences of conception and pregnancy and have never lost a baby. And that's how it should be - the majority of pregnancies go well, and I certainly don't begrudge my lovely friends their good fortune. In fact I hope it rubs off on me so I can join them in the parenting ranks! But, the flipside to me not knowing their experiences as the mother of a loud, demanding, lively baby, is them not knowing mine as the mother of a quiet, silent, lost baby. And believe me, getting over that is hard work too. Given the choice I know which outcome I would have preferred.

So - it's all out there now. This is just one of those examples when people say harmless things with the right motivations, and because of my experiences, their words irritate me through no fault of their own. We all have our blind spots, and I guess this is mine. It's nothing to do with my family and friends, and everything to do with me and what life has been like for me and the Boy over the past few months.

Deep breath, and time to let go. Maybe if all goes well, in a year or so you might even hear me turn round to a friend who hasn't got a family, telling her what hard work it all is... ;-)

Desperado

Another working week is drawing to a close as I write this. Fridays generally make me happy, the thought of one last day in the office and then a glorious weekend and free time stretching ahead. And this weekend promises to be a belter as we are staying overnight with some of our best friends tonight at their new home in Chipperfield, and then Sunday brings the Apple Cart festival and the Charity Shield, when I shall of course be rooting for the mighty blues. It feels like it will be one of 'those' weekends - packed with happy times and special moments.

We started the day by arriving late to work; not the best plan when we hope to escape early to leave London town for the night, but it was for the best reasons - if you get my drift! A fun way to start the day, leaving us both a little ruffled but with big smiles on our faces. We're in the period of the month when we know it's a good time for the fun and games to possibly lead on to conception, and we tend to try and make the most of it. But in a light-hearted and fun way. It's dawned on me recently, just this week really, how important it is that we keep it that way, and that our dreams for a baby don't become desperation.

I've re-engaged with internet parenting and baby sites in the last few weeks and I've really noticed how sad and desperate some of the posters seem and how it appears that life will never be ok for them without having a child. While I can really empathise with the desires and the need to have a family - the Boy and I certainly want that, so of course I can relate - I am wary of becoming so enticed and obsessed with it that it overtakes my life and I forget how rich my existence is and how blessed I already am.

Some of the women on these sites seem to read every article about fertility and conception, and think of nothing else from dusk until dawn. What they do, what they eat, what they drink, what they weigh, what they wear, what they say... it all seems to be tied in to having a family.  I really don't want that to happen, although I can already imagine how easy it might be to start slipping down that road. I hope by talking to the Boy and putting fun plans in the diary with him I can keep an eye on this and just enjoy the trying, and remember how much joy I have in my life already and how lucky I am to be married to my soulmate and best friend.

At sixes and sevens

It's a hot and humid day today in London town as I write this, and office workers are wilting under heavy blue skies. Ties and shoes are off, and we work to the gentle murmuring of electric fans dotted around the open plan office. Days like this are too nice - and too few and far between this summer - to be stuck indoors, but they always seem to fall in the week. All I can do for now is stare out of my window envious of friends who are able to enjoy this weather, and content myself I that I will feel the sun on my back when I leave the office later, as I head north to my weekly volunteering commitment.

Life plods along for the Boy and I. We had a better than expected weekend. I'd been nervous of going on a hen do and to a big 40th birthday party while I've been feeling out of sorts. I would have been six months pregnant on Monday, so our loss has been in the forefront of our minds again and we have both wobbled - it is difficult when the anniversaries arrive. I don't want to remember them but I always do. And it's hard to reflect on what might have been - but we have muddled through together. However, I enjoyed seeing old faces from the past immensely and the weekend was really good fun. I was reminded how lovely so many of my colleagues from my early days in PR, when we worked at the ChildLine charity, were, and how special a time that was.

A few of the old faces I chatted to on a one-to-one basis confided in me about their stories of miscarriage and loss in their searches to have a family. One old friend who I was very fond of when we worked together told me his wife had lost three children before they finally realised their dream and had a beautiful daughter. The stories are so sad - and I feel a spontaneous ache in my heart now as an instinct when I hear of anyone who has lost a child - but in the darkness there is light as they bring me some comfort and hope. I feel for my friends who have experienced loss, but that they held tight to what they wanted and have gone one to have a family gives me courage to go forwards also. I'm really starting to believe for the first time since the miscarriage that while the road ahead for the Boy and I is unknown, it could well lead to happiness - in fact, it probably will. I think I needed that gentle reminder.

So we're back in the part of the month where we're 'baby-dancing' as I believe the phrase goes! It feels different this time. I can feel a change in my emotional state and mood - while I hope this might be the month we get good news, it doesn't matter - as much - if it isn't. If we don't fall this month, then nothing is lost, there's tomorrow, next week, next month, next year and sooner or later good things will happen. I think in the last few months I've felt like the hole and the ache inside could only be filled by a new baby, but now I feel like the Boy has filled that hole. I'm very tightly bonded to him just now and being intimate together feels more about us and an extension of our love than anything else. I am reminded on a daily basis how fantastic and loving he is, and the closeness we have is incredibly special and important to me.

When we first began dating and even in the early days of our marriage I held quite tightly to my independence and we made quite a lot of social plans separately. Now something has shifted and I can hardly bear to be separated from him. Now he has seen all of me. Now he has been there for the best times and the worst. Now he means even more to me than he did before, more than I ever could have imagined. Now I walk along the street and find myself smiling because now I feel my heart almost fit to burst with joy that this person is by my side in all that I do. Holding me up, keeping me strong, being my understudy. So perhaps, in a funny way, after everything that has happened this year, maybe now is the best time of all.

Carve Out Some Time For Carver's!

Today my girlfriend invited me out to lunch so instead of going to lunch with my TLG (Tuesday Lunch Group) I went out for a lunch time adventure.  

Not far from my office is a place called Carver's.  Have you heard of it?  If you love southern food you might want to check it out.  

This is not necessarily a place that you would notice driving by but then again the fish might catch your eye.

Once I was inside I had no trouble deciding on my entree.  My pick was the Dolly Parton Fried Chicken Breast along with mac and cheese, crowder peas, a biscuit and sweet tea, of course.

 Honestly,  I haven't had a biscuit that good since my Aunt Elphia made them for our breakfast back in 1966.  If you live in Atlanta or happen to be visiting the area and you like southern food, you have to try Carver's.  They are only open weekdays from 11-3 and it's a cash only restaurant.  Hope you like it!