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.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
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!
This is not necessarily a place that you would notice driving by but then again the fish might catch your eye.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
A Day in the Park - Piedmont Park
This morning we headed out extra early for a morning in the park. Not just any park. We spent the morning playing in Piedmont Park, a beautiful 189 acre park that provides green space and recreational resources in the city of Atlanta.
Today I'm linking up with The Tablescaper's Seasonal Sundays so be sure to stop by and see other beautiful and inspiring posts.
Friday, July 29, 2011
It's Hard to Keep Up
This week it's harder than usual to keep up with blogging, work, chores around the house and THE GRANDGIRLS!
Yes, the grandgirls have been with us all week attending a day camp at the Atlanta History Center and they have had a great week. It's been really funny to listen to them talk about playing over at the Swan House.
And at night it's really been fun to go play in the park, play charades, watch movies, play butterfly bingo, put puzzles together, take bubble baths and read Junie B. Jones books.
We've got lots more to do this weekend before taking them home, but it has been a great week.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
In the name of the father
I read with interest in the Guardian that the Office for National Statistics has released its annual baby names survey today. It feels a little sad to see all the names listed there - as until recently the Boy and I had a vested interest in children's names - but I enjoy casting my eye over the names all the same, and seeing where the names we both like rank in this year's ratings.
Most of our favourites are very near the top so we may need to do a bit of a re-think when (if? please, when...) the time comes. Or maybe not - I'm pretty sure the Boy and I would prefer to choose a name we both love rather than be dictated to by statistics, and if that name is a little more common than others, well so be it!
Most of our favourites are very near the top so we may need to do a bit of a re-think when (if? please, when...) the time comes. Or maybe not - I'm pretty sure the Boy and I would prefer to choose a name we both love rather than be dictated to by statistics, and if that name is a little more common than others, well so be it!
How life mirrors art
For the last four years I have volunteered as a counsellor at a small bereavement charity. I was drawn to counselling after receiving a few therapeutic sessions myself when life felt difficult about seven years ago. I qualified as a counsellor in 2008, having spent three years training at various colleges in central and South London. I find the work meaningful and rewarding, and get a lot from it. It feels important and real, and I enjoy doing something different outside of my full-time work.
The charity where I volunteer offers long-term bereavement counselling to adults for up to two years, in weekly sessions that last about an hour. Each volunteer sees two or three clients a week. In my four years with the service I have worked with eight clients, male and female, from a few months to the full two years. During these sessions a client has never brought issues relating to miscarriage or wanting a child - the work has predominantly been about the loss of a parent, partner or family member, and all the difficult feelings and thoughts that go along with such a painful loss.
Since the miscarriage I've noticed that the dynamics that have changed in my personal life have also changed in my counselling space. A client I had been seeing for about 18 months, who had never shown an interest in becoming a parent, informed me that she was beginning the IVF process in the first session we had following the short absence while I recovered from my miscarriage. My second client and I only began meeting in June - she was presenting for various family bereavements. In our last couple of sessions it has come to light that the most important issue for her has been how much she wants children.
I find it interesting to be in a position where the feelings, thoughts and concerns of my clients so closely echo my own, when with my recent experiences I can feel such strong empathy for them. I can't help but wonder about the timing... Is it just a coincidence that these two clients are bringing these issues now, when they are so parallel and coherent to my own?. Or has something changed subconsciously to allow these themes to come up at this point? It's the first time that my 'art', if you will, echoes my 'life' and I feel this is a really important stage in my counselling work. I'm working closely with my supervisor and the director of our tiny charity to make sure I am being the most effective counsellor I can be, and that my distress and anxiety is left out of the room and the client remains the focus. So far it's working well.
The charity where I volunteer offers long-term bereavement counselling to adults for up to two years, in weekly sessions that last about an hour. Each volunteer sees two or three clients a week. In my four years with the service I have worked with eight clients, male and female, from a few months to the full two years. During these sessions a client has never brought issues relating to miscarriage or wanting a child - the work has predominantly been about the loss of a parent, partner or family member, and all the difficult feelings and thoughts that go along with such a painful loss.
Since the miscarriage I've noticed that the dynamics that have changed in my personal life have also changed in my counselling space. A client I had been seeing for about 18 months, who had never shown an interest in becoming a parent, informed me that she was beginning the IVF process in the first session we had following the short absence while I recovered from my miscarriage. My second client and I only began meeting in June - she was presenting for various family bereavements. In our last couple of sessions it has come to light that the most important issue for her has been how much she wants children.
I find it interesting to be in a position where the feelings, thoughts and concerns of my clients so closely echo my own, when with my recent experiences I can feel such strong empathy for them. I can't help but wonder about the timing... Is it just a coincidence that these two clients are bringing these issues now, when they are so parallel and coherent to my own?. Or has something changed subconsciously to allow these themes to come up at this point? It's the first time that my 'art', if you will, echoes my 'life' and I feel this is a really important stage in my counselling work. I'm working closely with my supervisor and the director of our tiny charity to make sure I am being the most effective counsellor I can be, and that my distress and anxiety is left out of the room and the client remains the focus. So far it's working well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)