Tree Fall

The one where she has a glass of wine.

Ok, I'm going to have to fess up here.. I was intending to write a great big long post, but I can't. I just can't. Because I have had two glasses of wine and whilst I'm still perfectly sober, I wouldn't want to be in charge of a car and I don't think I should be in charge of a blog either. If for no other reason than my mother keeps sneaking on and reading this, and she'd tut and roll her eyes. So, I shall try to keep this short! (but no promises!)

First off,  I finished this quilt about a week ago.

It's for a very special friend of mine. Ages ago, just before all the crap really started, I mentioned that someone I cared very much for had had some bad news. At the time I didn't feel that I should go into it, but she's told me she doesn't mind if I share it here.
I met her at a mother and baby group that I went to when Bella was tiny and we quickly discovered that we had a lot in common, and I quickly discovered that not only is she the kindest, most thoughtful person I know, but she is also the absolute funniest. This girl could make you spit out your drink in polite company!
There are 19 days between our girls birthdays and we insist (yes insist) that they are the best of friends. Which means frequently ignoring the scratching and biting! Ack, I'm sure we've all wanted to bite our bestfriend at some point (actually Grainne, I can't think of a time - can you??).
Anyway, in July she found out that she was pregnant with her second child. Which was wonderful news that had a much bigger affect on Jim and I than we would have expected. We had been talking about trying for another baby for a long time but we were scared and kept chickening out. However, when she told us the news, we were both jealous. Very jealous.

And we realised that now was the perfect time and that we should just go for it. And we did. And it worked!
But here's the thing. The day that we found out that I was pregnant, my friend found out that she was going to lose her baby. She had been for a scan and found that the baby was not growing.
And we all had a truly shit week. She tried so hard to be excited for us and we tried so hard to ignore our excitement. We were all heartbroken.
But do you know what she said to me? She said that if either of us was going to lose our baby, she would rather it was her, because she's never had any problem with getting pregnant and I've already lost 3. Can you imagine?
The following thursday, we looked after her daughter, whilst she went in to hospital and lost her baby.
Exactly a week later, to the day, she looked after Bella whilst we went to hospital to be told that I had a coexisting ectopic pregnancy as well as the normal one. And she looked after Bella the following Thursday when we went to hospital to be told that neither pregnancy was viable.
I lost my baby exactly 19 days after she lost hers. There were  19 days between the first being born and 19 days between the second being lost.
And through it all we have both laughed (a lot) together and cried together and most of all sworn together. But whilst I am incredibly grateful to have her by my side, I would give anything for her not to have gone through it with me.
I'm not able to take away her pain, but I would like to at least make her a bit more comfortable as she lies on her sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, so I made her this quilt. It's one of the most important things I've made.

And because Christmas is only 3 months away (how the hell did that happen???) I've started on the christmas range. These two stockings accompanied the christmas cats to the US.

And finally, (because that third glass is calling to me and then all bets are off!), I recieved a wonderful package this morning from Jhoanna .
This is the absolutely beautiful Freya!

Oh my, if Jhoanna puts more of her dolls up for sale, you should definately buy one. They are perfect. Perfect in every way. I had originally thought that Bella might have her, but now that she's here, she's all mine I'm afraid.
Included in the package were these beautiful fabrics!

How beautiful are they? I. Love. Them!
And as if that wasn't enough, Jhoanna also included these magazines.

Thank you so very much Jhoanna, I really do love it all. And I'm so sorry that I haven't been in touch about my side of the swap. I will get to the post office this week. I promise! Although, now I'm worried that you won't love my package as much as I love yours!!!

That's all for tonight - Jim's just upped the ante by coming in with a packet of chocolate Hobnobs!!

No, No, No!!

(stamping feet. hard) Broadband has been down for the last 3 days and there is no word when it's coming back. I hate Tiscali. With a passion. Hate!
I will be back. Just don't know when. Aarrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

A Little Bit Normal

First of all can I say that every single comment that I have received in the last 2 weeks has touched my heart and soul. Both Jim and I have been moved to tears on a number of occasions by the amount of love and support that you have all graced us with. I need you all to know that your words have had a real affect on how we have coped with the events of the last week. At our loneliest moments, when we have felt that we were the only ones here, another comment has been posted and we have been pulled back into your warm embrace. And for that we will forever be grateful
I am the sort of person that withdraws when in pain. I find it hard to allow anybody close and most people that know me know that I need my distance in order to heal. I wish this wasn't the case and I am aware that it can make the people around me feel useless and frustrated. My poor mother has had to listen to me say that I don't want a hug, again and again in the last week. And as a mother, I can well imagine how hard it is to not be allowed to hug your child when she is in such pain. I'm sorry Mom.
But not withdrawing from here , has allowed me, from a safe distance to let you all in. And in turn has taught me that I need to learn to do that far more in my 'real' life.  And I really will try. Although it may take a while.

That said, I think that it's time to get back to some nice stuff. I need this little part of my world to be nice and pretty and ordered. I need it to look the way I want and I need to pretend, a little, that things aren't all doom and gloom. And I need to say (for my sake only  - I know no one else thinks it) that it doesn't mean that everything is ok, just that I want it to seem it.

I bought these today. And I'm relieved to tell you that even as lousy as I'm feeling, I can still appreciate some good ribbon!

And oh wow! Grey ricrac! I have no idea why I love it so much, but I really do. It really did make me smile when I saw it today. Does that make me bad?

I meant to show you this cat a week ago. He's called Taking the Liberty and he's a bit of a dandy.

The fabrics are all Liberty Lawns with a matching button on his felt collar. He's only little but he's big on style.

Jim loves the patchwork wall so I've agreed to keep it for a while. I have to admit that I don't hate it today, but we'll see how I feel in the next few days (or more to the point, we'll see if I ever work up the energy to do anything about it!!).

And finally, Bella has been staying with my mom for the last 3 days because not only have we been going through all the crappy stuff but Jim has also been ill and between us we simply could not look after Bella as well as she deserves. I've felt rotten about not having her here, but she absolutely loves staying with my folks and is spoilt rotten so I know I don't need to feel too bad. We do however miss her like crazy and have found ourselves looking through her photo albums a lot. So this photo is to make us feel better - because it does make us feel better when we see how wonderful she is. Especially in her new green Wellington Boots!

(sorry for the disjointedness (it's a word!) of the post.)

Thank you. All of you.

Jim and I went to Ikea yesterday. We were just getting to the checkout when I realised that 'it' was about to happen. So we literally dropped everything and drove home.
After days of waiting, it actually only took a minute for it all to be over. Which confused us. We'd waited for and dreaded this moment since I had started bleeding on Friday and yet it just came and went. One minute I was pregnant and the next I wasn't. And we didn't know what to do. So we drove back to Ikea. Seriously. We both just got back in to the car and headed back to buy the fabric and bookshelves that we had decided we desperately needed. We drove back to Ikea and left our hearts sitting in a pot in the bathroom.

This morning we got to work. We didn't discuss whether we were doing the right thing. Or whether we were dealing with it in the right way. Or even if we were physically up to the work. We just got out of bed and started working.
First we built a plain Ikea bookcase. Then we primed it and started painting the three coats of cream satinwood that it would need to cover it's original dullness. We measured and cut and glued beading on to the front edges of the shelves. And we cut and glued vintage Laura Ashley wallpaper to the inside of it. And whilst we waited for coats to dry, I wallpapered one wall of our bedroom with a patchwork of various vintage and new wallpapers.
We didn't stop for lunch or dinner but we did drink a lot of tea and coffee. We spoke to my midwife who was very excited to find that she had me on her books again and then very sad to hear that I no longer needed to be. We spoke to Jim's new employers (he starts a new job next week) who were very kind and said he could delay his starting date. And we spoke to the hospital who managed to make a bad situation worse (god bless the NHS). We spoke to eachother. We spoke to my mom, who wanted to know if the fact that Bella was chasing an industrial lawn mower around the local park was cause for concern.
We worked and watched crap tv. And we got the bookcase made and altered and attached to the wall and filled with books. We worked and got the wall papered and picture frames painted. And finished jobs that have been waiting to be finished for months.
And then I stopped working. And I realised that after denial comes anger. And I hate the wall papered wall and the bookcase looks like shit. And none of it made any fucking difference anyway. And I was actually dumb enough to think that if I just kept busy. If I just kept moving. It wouldn't catch me.

I'm sorry.

I had both an ectopic pregnancy and a normal one. At first it looked like everything would be fine because the ectopic was not growing and would not cause a problem.
Then we found out that the other pregnancy was growing too slowly and that neither would survive. We were told that I would have to be scanned every week until the heart stopped beating. And then we would have to  decide whether to wait  for  it to naturally miscarry  or have medical  intervention. We  were told it could take weeks.
It didn't. I started bleeding on Friday night and today I lost my baby.
Blogging is a strange thing. Some would question why I would want to share this on my blog, with a bunch of strangers. And I wouldn't blame them for questioning it. Losing a baby is intensly personal. But it is also very private. Too private. Nobody wants to talk about it. People flinch when you use the word 'baby' instead of 'miscarriage'.
People want to tell you that these things happen. And that at least you already have a child. And that you can try again. And it's all true. But it doesn't make one bit of difference.
This is my fourth miscarriage but I can tell you now, the other three may as well have never happened. This one is entirely different.
I already have a child. And every single time I look at her and hear her laugh and feel her touch, I know exactly what I've lost.
Before I had Bella being a parent was an abstract idea. Having a baby was an abstract idea. I never felt that I had lost an actual baby because I couldn't imagine who that baby would have been. I couldn't imagine how much I would love it. How much my life would change. How my whole being, my whole reason for living, would be to simply protect and love that tiny creature.
We've been lucky. Other people go through far worse things. Sarah, since first reading your story I've admired your strength immensly.
But as I lie here I can feel how wrong this is. It's just wrong.
And I'm sorry to write it here. But I don't want to pretend it hasn't happened. I need to say it happened. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I won't be offended. You've all been very patient and understanding and I'm very grateful.
But today I lost my baby and it feels like there's a shard of glass buried deep in my soul. And it hurts.