Hey :)
Oh my gosh, it's been sooo long since I last blogged. I can't tell you how good it feels to have the weight of my apple Mac on my lap and touch the familiar keys - hearing the gentle 'clickety-clack' as I write...this is my idea of heaven.
Well okay - one of my many ideas. Don't get me started.
I have LOADS to write to you about:
My family
Alun and I and our trip to Koh Samui
My new job
My new struggles in my new job (arrghhhh)
and a lot of other things...
...but for tonight, while Alun is snoring softly in our bedroom down the hall and I'm alone in the living room with the heating on...I'll tell you about Milton.
Milton is what I would have named our little boy if Alun and I ever had a baby. I grew up all my life thinking I wanted to be a Mom. Then I married Jonathan and wondered WHY people wanted to be Mom's in the first place as with him, I just didn't feel it. I didn't feel a need to make a family with him, we were both super busy with work and Church and Jonathan's many, MANY ideas...there simply wasn't time for anything else. We also didn't have sex - EVER - so I guess that greatly influenced my thoughts, dreams and hopes of the future. I was so traumatised by "what is wrong with me? am I not sexy/beautiful/attractive/womanly/feminine enough?" that the thought of anything beyond just getting my husband to TOUCH me was foreign.
I convinced myself I just wasn't the woman the woman I thought I'd grow up to be - I didn't want to be a Mom...I was struggling just being a wife. I couldn't see how a little person would make our lives better - I just saw it as additional stress, to be honest.
Even so, Jon and I talked about it. He wanted a little girl. We saw Doctors, we got 2nd, 3rd and 4th opinions and all of them the same "We're sorry...but..."
Every Doctor examined me, sent off tests and said the same thing - my endometriosis was so severe that nothing would ever grow in my womb. IVF wasn't an option as my body would 'attack' and 'break down' ANYTHING foreign so no little baby would ever be able to grow.
It hit Jon and I hard...but not so hard it grieved us - it was just a huge disappointment.
Not to mention you've never even had sex with me, Jon!!!
Argh.
Let's move on.
So we - I - accepted motherhood just wasn't for me.
Then I hooked up with Matt and lost my virginity to him. I have been "in love" with that boy since I was 14 years old. I was 32 when we slept together and I remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror after we had sex and thinking I even LOOKED different. I was a woman now. It was amazing.
Because I fancied myself in love with Matthew...my whole outlook on my life and my future changed. It hit me like a lightning bolt - I wanted to have a baby. I wanted with my whole heart to make a tiny version that would be made up of Matt and I. I wanted it so badly.
This was challenging.
Ultimately, Matt wasn't in love with me. I never expected that after everything we'd been through in the last 20-odd years that he would consider me a "fun weekend" and I would consider him "my everything".
After years of heartache and grieving and questioning again "why am I not enough for this guy?"...I again said to myself "It's okay because I don't really want to be a Mom anyway"
Fast forward to 3 years ago when I was saying "I do" to Alun on a winter's day in the Perth Wedding Registry. We were both crying because we were both just so happy. I was in love with someone who felt the same about me. I can't tell you how powerful and life changing that is. To love someone with all your heart who loves you with all of theirs. It's incredible.
I hadn't thought about children until that night - tucked up behind a snoring Alun who was still in what he wore at our wedding - apart from his shoes which I'd carefully slid off his feet and his tie which I carefully loosened so he'd be okay in the night. I breathed in the wonderful lemony-fresh natural scent Alun has (I love it so much) and there it was again - that quiet, gentle yearning in my heart...to have a little one that would be a tiny version of the person I loved most in the world.
So Alun and I talked about it. For a really long time. Alun had tried to get pregnant with his first wife, but had found he was infertile. His sperm are...disfunctional? is that the right word? His first wife had been very hard on Alun because of it and had blamed and shamed him a lot. When I heard this, I felt as if this was a sign. A HUGE SIGN from God that we were definitely NOT meant to have a baby. Think of it, I'm infertile and now Alun is, too? Woah, that's a huge 'coincidence', don't you think?
But unlike with Jonathan - who wasn't really that bothered, just more disappointed - but moved quickly on to pouring his entire being into the Church...and unlike Matt - who was horrified at my idea of being a family and planning a future with him "calm down, Janet - you're starting to sound crazy"...Alun and I were both heartbroken about it. We cried, we hugged and we pulled through like the team we are and I pray we always will be.
Sometimes though - we talk about the son we both would have wanted. I wanted to name him HENRY as Henry is my FAVOURITE name in the world. Alun shook his head "too English". As a very patriotic WELSHman, my husband wanted a Welsh name.
I was watching a tv show at the time of all our talks and it featured a little boy with big brown eyes, brown hair and the CUTEST smile you ever did see. He lived on a farm in the middle of Australia - thousands of miles from ANY civilisation - and he loved it. He loved his family, loved the animals and more than anything - idolised his Dad, Milton. He was named after his father and everyone in his family and the staff working on the farm named him "little Milton".
Oh that little boy stole my heart.
"What about Milton?" I said to Alun later that week.
"Huh?"
"If we ever had a little boy - can we name him Milton?" I wiggled my eyebrows invitingly
Alun considered it "I like it" he finally said. "Milton"
So the next few years, we accepted we wouldn't be parents...but every now and then, "Milton" came up in conversation. If Alun saw a cute baby's outfit, he'd said "Milton would look so cute in that". If I heard a song or saw a little truck, I'd say to Alun "Omg can you imagine Milton would love this?" and we'd both nod and hug each other.
We'd both comfort each other and remind each other that we were ALL we needed. We couldn't have children and adopting from Australia as 40 year olds makes the process so much harder and so much longer - so we just accepted it all. Milton would live and play, laugh, giggle and be loved in our hearts but never in person.
Then...yesterday happened.
I got my period the DAY BEFORE Alun and I flew out to Koh Samui.
Great.
NOT!!!
So for a good 4 days, I couldn't enjoy swimming or having a nice bath. I was in painful cramps the entire time. I was miserable, in constant pain and this was the heaviest period I had ever experienced. It wasn't just blood coming from me - it was big clumps of...stuff. The pain was unbearable. Thankfully, my period stopped and in the last 2-3 days of holiday, I was finally able to jump in the pool with Alun (woohoo!) and go snorkelling - both of which I loved.
2 weeks later (this leads us to yesterday) and I find I've started bleeding. AGAIN. Heavily. SO much so that I'm bleeding through my underwear and all over my clothing. I'm going through a packet of pads every single day.
This is not right.
I was really scared. Alun was worried when I told him about my bleeding and pain - so I booked in an appointment.
My Doctor was fully booked so I had to see a Doctor I was unfamiliar with.
This new Doctor - let's call her Doctor Baskin - said something that shook my world.
"I think you've had a miscarriage, Janet"
The words rang clear as a bell and something deep, deep inside me resounded with truth.
Suddenly, I thought so, too.
But how could this be?
Because Dr Baskin had NEVER seen me before, I tried to explain my history of NOT BEING ABLE TO BE PREGNANT to her.
She nodded and listened patiently, but then repeated "I still think you've miscarried, Janet. It explains the blood loss (also a huge factor in my low iron), the clots that you've expended from your body, your onset of depression (I'm really suffering with it lately) and how ill you've been. It explains the pain and it explains why you're "spotting" these last few weeks.
(what does "spotting" mean???)
Wait.
WHAT?!?
I swallowed hard.
"Pardon?" I forced out, shaking and having to grip the table and lean forward as I suddenly couldn't breathe.
"I strongly feel you've miscarried, Janet. I want to get some tests done urgently and I want to examine your insides so I can make sure the entire foetus has been expelled so you don't get ill and infected. ok?
Wait.
Did you just say FOETUS??? AS IN BABY???
My vision blurred and my head made the room wobble.
BABY?!?
Tears sprang to my eyes and with it - I guess from a combination of anxiety, depression and illness - along with the emotions of my crazy past - came visions of Alun picking up a little boy from his crib and holding him in his arms.
Milton.
I swear I could almost hear Milton's baby giggle/gurgle.
I saw myself blowing bubbles with him on a summer's day. "Momma?" he'd ask "Yes darling" I'd say, feeling my heart swell with love for this little version made up of Alun and I. He'd babble and giggle and I'd take him in - his big brown eyes - just like Alun's, my Filipino nose, his chubby, gorgeous little cheeks and his brown hair in tufts on his head. So perfect and sweet.
In the background, Dr Baskin was printing off information about miscarriages, referrals for ultrasounds and other tests.
I heard it again in my soul - a little boy's voice with a hint of a smile..."Momma?"
I shook my head.
"Pardon?" I asked out loud
"If you go down the hall to the door on the right, our Nurses can take your bloods, Janet" Dr Baskin said, smiling kindly and pointing down the hall.
I was afraid to stand, not thinking my legs would work. Not thinking ANY part of me would work.
Had I lost a baby?!?
Oh Milton...
I think my body auto-pilotted me through the rest of that Doctor's appointment. A kind Nurse took vials of my blood and put stickers on them, sending them to places all over Perth, I guess.
I wasn't "present"...I was grieving over a lost baby. Mine and Alun's lost Milton.
It wasn't a baby. Surely. Doctor Baskin said it MIGHT have been a miscarriage. Surely it wasn't a baby as she said foetus...so maybe it was just cells beginning to transform...it wasn't a baby. Right?
But then my heart's knowledge and belief in God make me feel that even if it was "just cells" - it was still a life form.
A baby.
A baby I killed.
OMG.
I texted Alun who rang me immediately.
We were both stunned. We were both grieved.
It is honestly one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through - and I'm STILL going through it. So is Alun.
I rang my best friend (or did she ring me? I can't remember - I was still pretty much on autopilot) and tears streamed down my face as a lifetime of "memories", hopes and dreams of little Milton flashed before my eyes and broke my heart.
"Honey, sh*t happens" my best friend tried to console me.
But this isn't stubbing my toe or dropping a coffee down my shirt. This isn't missing the bus to work or a flat battery. This isn't a flat car tire or getting drenched in the rain on the way to work.
This is so much MORE that something "unfortunate".
sh*t does happen - but this is so much more than that.
And I don't know how to work through this. I don't know how to tell my best friend that this has rocked the VERY CORE of Alun and I. This feels like someone we both love very much DYING.
And it was me who KILLED them.
And I didn't kill 'just anyone'...I killed a tiny version of Alun and I.
I killed baby Milton.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?
I feel evil.
I feel disgusting.
I feel ashamed.
I feel SO MUCH PAIN and SOOO MUCH SADNESS.
I can't begin to explain how incredibly PAINFUL this is.
Alun and I have grieved and have consoled each other - Alun has looked after me and comforted me and tried his best to get me through this - even though he himself is grieving. I couldn't love him more for doing this, honestly. I have the best husband in the world.
It hasn't even been confirmed yet - maybe I've just gotten a very bad illness or maybe it's something else inside my womb and ovaries that is very wrong and has nothing to do with a baby or a miscarriage. I just don't know.
But if it IS a miscarriage - how do I go on?
It sounds so dramatic...but how do Alun and I move on from this?
Baby Milton - little one with big brown eyes, tiny hands and feet...your Father's stubborness and charm, Alun's ease at making friendships and how he so naturally cares for everyone around him...maybe my tenacity and my mouthy ways. Maybe you would have been a truck driver or lawyer, cleaner or athlete...maybe you would have taken your first steps when I turned around to pick up your toy from nearby and I would have almost missed them if not for Alun saying excitedly "look, Janet - look!"
Maybe when you couldn't sleep, you'd cry out in the night "Daddy" or "Momma" and Alun and I would come and get you, carry you into bed with us and you'd pass out fast asleep in the middle of us as Alun would stretch out his long arm and enfold us all.
Maybe you were nothing at all and I have cysts on my ovaries or my womb is breaking down more endometriosis and it's just been especially bad this time.
...but I still love the idea of you.
Your father and I would have loved you more than anyone on this planet.
Oh my gosh, it's been sooo long since I last blogged. I can't tell you how good it feels to have the weight of my apple Mac on my lap and touch the familiar keys - hearing the gentle 'clickety-clack' as I write...this is my idea of heaven.
Well okay - one of my many ideas. Don't get me started.
I have LOADS to write to you about:
My family
Alun and I and our trip to Koh Samui
My new job
My new struggles in my new job (arrghhhh)
and a lot of other things...
...but for tonight, while Alun is snoring softly in our bedroom down the hall and I'm alone in the living room with the heating on...I'll tell you about Milton.
Milton is what I would have named our little boy if Alun and I ever had a baby. I grew up all my life thinking I wanted to be a Mom. Then I married Jonathan and wondered WHY people wanted to be Mom's in the first place as with him, I just didn't feel it. I didn't feel a need to make a family with him, we were both super busy with work and Church and Jonathan's many, MANY ideas...there simply wasn't time for anything else. We also didn't have sex - EVER - so I guess that greatly influenced my thoughts, dreams and hopes of the future. I was so traumatised by "what is wrong with me? am I not sexy/beautiful/attractive/womanly/feminine enough?" that the thought of anything beyond just getting my husband to TOUCH me was foreign.
I convinced myself I just wasn't the woman the woman I thought I'd grow up to be - I didn't want to be a Mom...I was struggling just being a wife. I couldn't see how a little person would make our lives better - I just saw it as additional stress, to be honest.
Even so, Jon and I talked about it. He wanted a little girl. We saw Doctors, we got 2nd, 3rd and 4th opinions and all of them the same "We're sorry...but..."
Every Doctor examined me, sent off tests and said the same thing - my endometriosis was so severe that nothing would ever grow in my womb. IVF wasn't an option as my body would 'attack' and 'break down' ANYTHING foreign so no little baby would ever be able to grow.
It hit Jon and I hard...but not so hard it grieved us - it was just a huge disappointment.
Not to mention you've never even had sex with me, Jon!!!
Argh.
Let's move on.
So we - I - accepted motherhood just wasn't for me.
Then I hooked up with Matt and lost my virginity to him. I have been "in love" with that boy since I was 14 years old. I was 32 when we slept together and I remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror after we had sex and thinking I even LOOKED different. I was a woman now. It was amazing.
Because I fancied myself in love with Matthew...my whole outlook on my life and my future changed. It hit me like a lightning bolt - I wanted to have a baby. I wanted with my whole heart to make a tiny version that would be made up of Matt and I. I wanted it so badly.
This was challenging.
Ultimately, Matt wasn't in love with me. I never expected that after everything we'd been through in the last 20-odd years that he would consider me a "fun weekend" and I would consider him "my everything".
After years of heartache and grieving and questioning again "why am I not enough for this guy?"...I again said to myself "It's okay because I don't really want to be a Mom anyway"
Fast forward to 3 years ago when I was saying "I do" to Alun on a winter's day in the Perth Wedding Registry. We were both crying because we were both just so happy. I was in love with someone who felt the same about me. I can't tell you how powerful and life changing that is. To love someone with all your heart who loves you with all of theirs. It's incredible.
I hadn't thought about children until that night - tucked up behind a snoring Alun who was still in what he wore at our wedding - apart from his shoes which I'd carefully slid off his feet and his tie which I carefully loosened so he'd be okay in the night. I breathed in the wonderful lemony-fresh natural scent Alun has (I love it so much) and there it was again - that quiet, gentle yearning in my heart...to have a little one that would be a tiny version of the person I loved most in the world.
So Alun and I talked about it. For a really long time. Alun had tried to get pregnant with his first wife, but had found he was infertile. His sperm are...disfunctional? is that the right word? His first wife had been very hard on Alun because of it and had blamed and shamed him a lot. When I heard this, I felt as if this was a sign. A HUGE SIGN from God that we were definitely NOT meant to have a baby. Think of it, I'm infertile and now Alun is, too? Woah, that's a huge 'coincidence', don't you think?
But unlike with Jonathan - who wasn't really that bothered, just more disappointed - but moved quickly on to pouring his entire being into the Church...and unlike Matt - who was horrified at my idea of being a family and planning a future with him "calm down, Janet - you're starting to sound crazy"...Alun and I were both heartbroken about it. We cried, we hugged and we pulled through like the team we are and I pray we always will be.
Sometimes though - we talk about the son we both would have wanted. I wanted to name him HENRY as Henry is my FAVOURITE name in the world. Alun shook his head "too English". As a very patriotic WELSHman, my husband wanted a Welsh name.
I was watching a tv show at the time of all our talks and it featured a little boy with big brown eyes, brown hair and the CUTEST smile you ever did see. He lived on a farm in the middle of Australia - thousands of miles from ANY civilisation - and he loved it. He loved his family, loved the animals and more than anything - idolised his Dad, Milton. He was named after his father and everyone in his family and the staff working on the farm named him "little Milton".
Oh that little boy stole my heart.
"What about Milton?" I said to Alun later that week.
"Huh?"
"If we ever had a little boy - can we name him Milton?" I wiggled my eyebrows invitingly
Alun considered it "I like it" he finally said. "Milton"
So the next few years, we accepted we wouldn't be parents...but every now and then, "Milton" came up in conversation. If Alun saw a cute baby's outfit, he'd said "Milton would look so cute in that". If I heard a song or saw a little truck, I'd say to Alun "Omg can you imagine Milton would love this?" and we'd both nod and hug each other.
We'd both comfort each other and remind each other that we were ALL we needed. We couldn't have children and adopting from Australia as 40 year olds makes the process so much harder and so much longer - so we just accepted it all. Milton would live and play, laugh, giggle and be loved in our hearts but never in person.
Then...yesterday happened.
I got my period the DAY BEFORE Alun and I flew out to Koh Samui.
Great.
NOT!!!
So for a good 4 days, I couldn't enjoy swimming or having a nice bath. I was in painful cramps the entire time. I was miserable, in constant pain and this was the heaviest period I had ever experienced. It wasn't just blood coming from me - it was big clumps of...stuff. The pain was unbearable. Thankfully, my period stopped and in the last 2-3 days of holiday, I was finally able to jump in the pool with Alun (woohoo!) and go snorkelling - both of which I loved.
2 weeks later (this leads us to yesterday) and I find I've started bleeding. AGAIN. Heavily. SO much so that I'm bleeding through my underwear and all over my clothing. I'm going through a packet of pads every single day.
This is not right.
I was really scared. Alun was worried when I told him about my bleeding and pain - so I booked in an appointment.
My Doctor was fully booked so I had to see a Doctor I was unfamiliar with.
This new Doctor - let's call her Doctor Baskin - said something that shook my world.
"I think you've had a miscarriage, Janet"
The words rang clear as a bell and something deep, deep inside me resounded with truth.
Suddenly, I thought so, too.
But how could this be?
Because Dr Baskin had NEVER seen me before, I tried to explain my history of NOT BEING ABLE TO BE PREGNANT to her.
She nodded and listened patiently, but then repeated "I still think you've miscarried, Janet. It explains the blood loss (also a huge factor in my low iron), the clots that you've expended from your body, your onset of depression (I'm really suffering with it lately) and how ill you've been. It explains the pain and it explains why you're "spotting" these last few weeks.
(what does "spotting" mean???)
Wait.
WHAT?!?
I swallowed hard.
"Pardon?" I forced out, shaking and having to grip the table and lean forward as I suddenly couldn't breathe.
"I strongly feel you've miscarried, Janet. I want to get some tests done urgently and I want to examine your insides so I can make sure the entire foetus has been expelled so you don't get ill and infected. ok?
Wait.
Did you just say FOETUS??? AS IN BABY???
My vision blurred and my head made the room wobble.
BABY?!?
Tears sprang to my eyes and with it - I guess from a combination of anxiety, depression and illness - along with the emotions of my crazy past - came visions of Alun picking up a little boy from his crib and holding him in his arms.
Milton.
I swear I could almost hear Milton's baby giggle/gurgle.
I saw myself blowing bubbles with him on a summer's day. "Momma?" he'd ask "Yes darling" I'd say, feeling my heart swell with love for this little version made up of Alun and I. He'd babble and giggle and I'd take him in - his big brown eyes - just like Alun's, my Filipino nose, his chubby, gorgeous little cheeks and his brown hair in tufts on his head. So perfect and sweet.
In the background, Dr Baskin was printing off information about miscarriages, referrals for ultrasounds and other tests.
I heard it again in my soul - a little boy's voice with a hint of a smile..."Momma?"
I shook my head.
"Pardon?" I asked out loud
"If you go down the hall to the door on the right, our Nurses can take your bloods, Janet" Dr Baskin said, smiling kindly and pointing down the hall.
I was afraid to stand, not thinking my legs would work. Not thinking ANY part of me would work.
Had I lost a baby?!?
Oh Milton...
I think my body auto-pilotted me through the rest of that Doctor's appointment. A kind Nurse took vials of my blood and put stickers on them, sending them to places all over Perth, I guess.
I wasn't "present"...I was grieving over a lost baby. Mine and Alun's lost Milton.
It wasn't a baby. Surely. Doctor Baskin said it MIGHT have been a miscarriage. Surely it wasn't a baby as she said foetus...so maybe it was just cells beginning to transform...it wasn't a baby. Right?
But then my heart's knowledge and belief in God make me feel that even if it was "just cells" - it was still a life form.
A baby.
A baby I killed.
OMG.
I texted Alun who rang me immediately.
We were both stunned. We were both grieved.
It is honestly one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through - and I'm STILL going through it. So is Alun.
I rang my best friend (or did she ring me? I can't remember - I was still pretty much on autopilot) and tears streamed down my face as a lifetime of "memories", hopes and dreams of little Milton flashed before my eyes and broke my heart.
"Honey, sh*t happens" my best friend tried to console me.
But this isn't stubbing my toe or dropping a coffee down my shirt. This isn't missing the bus to work or a flat battery. This isn't a flat car tire or getting drenched in the rain on the way to work.
This is so much MORE that something "unfortunate".
sh*t does happen - but this is so much more than that.
And I don't know how to work through this. I don't know how to tell my best friend that this has rocked the VERY CORE of Alun and I. This feels like someone we both love very much DYING.
And it was me who KILLED them.
And I didn't kill 'just anyone'...I killed a tiny version of Alun and I.
I killed baby Milton.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?
I feel evil.
I feel disgusting.
I feel ashamed.
I feel SO MUCH PAIN and SOOO MUCH SADNESS.
I can't begin to explain how incredibly PAINFUL this is.
Alun and I have grieved and have consoled each other - Alun has looked after me and comforted me and tried his best to get me through this - even though he himself is grieving. I couldn't love him more for doing this, honestly. I have the best husband in the world.
It hasn't even been confirmed yet - maybe I've just gotten a very bad illness or maybe it's something else inside my womb and ovaries that is very wrong and has nothing to do with a baby or a miscarriage. I just don't know.
But if it IS a miscarriage - how do I go on?
It sounds so dramatic...but how do Alun and I move on from this?
Baby Milton - little one with big brown eyes, tiny hands and feet...your Father's stubborness and charm, Alun's ease at making friendships and how he so naturally cares for everyone around him...maybe my tenacity and my mouthy ways. Maybe you would have been a truck driver or lawyer, cleaner or athlete...maybe you would have taken your first steps when I turned around to pick up your toy from nearby and I would have almost missed them if not for Alun saying excitedly "look, Janet - look!"
Maybe when you couldn't sleep, you'd cry out in the night "Daddy" or "Momma" and Alun and I would come and get you, carry you into bed with us and you'd pass out fast asleep in the middle of us as Alun would stretch out his long arm and enfold us all.
Maybe you were nothing at all and I have cysts on my ovaries or my womb is breaking down more endometriosis and it's just been especially bad this time.
...but I still love the idea of you.
Your father and I would have loved you more than anyone on this planet.
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