Sunday 28 October 2018

Annie

Near the end of last year, when she was three and a half, Pickle was having great success with cosmic ordering.  She wanted a pink, two wheel bike, with a basket on the front and training wheels.  Lo, the next day, the people around the corner put one that met her specification outside their house with a sign saying 'free' just as I was driving by.   She wanted a surfboard, with a legstrap - our neighbours got a new board for their daughter, would Pickle like the old one?  It was even her favourite colour pink! Yes please.

Pickle started preschool at the beginning of this year.  Whenever she was asked to draw a picture of her family it always included her Dad, me, herself and her little sister Annie.  The teachers thought she had a little sister and asked me about her.  But no, Annie only existed in Pickle's imagination. 

(Despite hoping for a sibling, I've had two miscarriages since her birth, and none in the past year. Our plan hasn't changed since we decided to try to have a family.  Keep healthy and keep enjoying each other without contraception, if it happens, it happens). 

Pickle asked me many times when she could have her little sister and I explained about how it wasn't that easy.  It's not like buying something in a shop.  It's more like gardening.  The Dad needed to plant a seed in the Mum and hopefully that seed might grow into a baby inside Mum and after lots of waiting that baby might be born.  But we couldn't choose if the baby would be a boy or a girl, and we couldn't make the seed grow into a baby.  We could just do our best and hope.

I also mentioned a seed was more likely to be planted if she stopped coming into our room at night and keeping us awake all night with her kicks and sleep talking.   I heard a good description of sleeping with a small person recently - they only do crucifix or swastika shapes and alternate between them.  In the last few months Mr Duncan and I were even taking turns sleeping in the spare room a couple of nights a week each so everyone got better rest.

When her Dad went to the UK for a month for work recently, Pickle slept all night in her own bed for the first time since she was 2.5 (and started having night terrors).  She breezed into our bedroom in the morning to wake me up. 

"So. Mum. I slept in my own bed ALL night.  Can I have my little sister Annie now?"  

I praised her for staying in her room all night and reminded her that Dad needed to be here to plant the seed.  That was nearly three months ago and her all-night trick has yet to be repeated.

Mr Duncan died six weeks and one day ago - less than four weeks after he came home from his work trip. 

Tonight, at dinner, Pickle said 

"So I guess we wont be having little sister Annie any more" (in a pretty upbeat manner).

 I asked her what made her say that (I find I get much better answers from 'what' questions than 'why' or 'how').

"Because Dad isn't here to plant the seed" (duh Mum).


I replied "Hmm, you're right (taking a deep breath and trying not to crack up and cry). No he isn't.  What do you think about that?"

She was quiet for a bit and answered uncertainly.

"Maybe.. one day.. we could have a new Dad?

I asked "would you like that?" but she had gone somewhere else in her mind, gazed out the window and never replied.

Thing is, I don't want a new Dad for her.  He is her Dad.  And he was amazing at it.

It's a big thing for me. 

My Dad has always been and continues to be a crap parent (he sent 'condolences' by text message ffs).  Fortunately I realised he was just too self involved in my teens, so it hasn't fucked me up too badly as an adult because I can manage my expectations.  Low.  Very low.

But I was 100% clear with Mr Duncan that were we to have any children, he'd have to actually be a parent.  Not technically, because of sperm, but practically, on a minute by minute basis.  That if I died, Pickle should never have to wonder who would look after her if I wasn't around.  There should be no question!  It would be her Dad, who had always looked after her.  So he had to be on board before we even started trying. 

And once she came into the world, he showed me how fully he was on-board. 

How could I possibly meet someone else that I wanted to be in a relationship with, that could Dad as well as Mr Duncan did with Pickle?

But I think it's the first time she's shown me that she misses him.

I know she's worried about me.   And, having two sisters of my own, I feel terrible that she doesn't have a little sister Annie to share it all with.




Sunday 14 October 2018

I don't even know where to start...

I don't even know where to start...

More than two years later I find myself returning here, to this blog, where I felt so much safety and comfort while I was in pain...  and I'm thankful that here is still available to return to.

For the past couple of years I had little time between parenting and running my own biz to share my thoughts and feelings, but in addition to having less time, my life and heart were full.  I had less need.

That changed four weeks ago when the rug was pulled out from underneath my feet - Mr Duncan died unexpectedly at the age of 41. 

You don't fight so hard to have a child for that child to be deprived of her father at 4 years old!  I mean fine, sometimes relationships break down, but I was always confident that Mr Duncan would be a present dad, irrespective of our relationship status.  And he was a very present and loving father.  But even if we broke up, he would always be her dad, whether or not he was my husband.

And yet now he is her dad, but not present.  Except in our memories.

Pickle will now always be an only child.  I know the odds of her having a sibling were very low, but we've had a couple of positive pregnancy tests and subsequent early losses since she was born.  We weren't counting on it, but there was always a slight possibility of a sibling... until two weeks ago when my period finally came... late.  I know it was extremely unlikely, but now it's impossible.  And somehow,  the grief I already felt for Poppy and Pipkin, is joined by grief for their Dad, and grief for Pickle's never-going-to-exist potential sibling.  And grief for Pickle.

Now Pickle is the only child of a widowed and grieving mother.  People have been saying to her stupid shit like "take good care of your mummy" -  I practically snarl at them that its not her responsibility.  She's four.  She just lost her dad ffs.

I've written before about how I had a lot of responsibility as a child and how it's shaped my personality - not necessarily for the better.  I don't want that for her.  I just want Pickle to enjoy her childhood like a normal kid.  But now... how is that even possible?  I see her carefully watching my every move.  She tries to comfort me.  I forgot my watch the other day, she said 'That's okay mummy, you can look at the time on your phone".  She's also smart enough to try to parlay my weaknesses to her advantage.  Sometimes I feel so tired that I give in to her suggestions for the ipad simply so I can nap for an hour.

How unfair that at the same time you lose one of your parents,  the other parent starts acting extremely weird?  For the first week my phone did not stop.  There is a crapload of stuff that needs to be sorted out when someone dies.  Not just a funeral which is enough work.  Lots of stupid legal and financial and immigration stuff.  And my background is in project management so I used the adrenaline I was feeling to go into project management mode.  Yes I was sad.  But this was distracting and made me feel less helpless.  I feel lucky that a friend tentatively suggested Pickle had never seen me in professional mode and that it might be like she'd lost her dad AND her mum, because her mum wasn't acting anything like the mum she knew.  So I decided to become the mum and appointed a project manager friend to do all the organising.

And how weird is it that you're arranging an event, like a wedding or a big party, trying to honour your dead person's self and respect their families needs at the same time you're wondering how the hell you will be able parent successfully or make your next mortgage payment without the other member of your team!

Coping with death is stressful, whether it was expected or not.  I don't have a cause of death or death certificate, so I cannot start life insurance claims.  In the meantime I need to pay for a funeral and all normal living expenses while I can barely think in a straight line.  I've found myself doing stupid absent minded stuff like putting milk in the dishwasher instead of the fridge and last night I burned soup.  I need to be careful I don't end up burning down the whole house!

Anyway.  So I'm back.  Not sure for how long, maybe only this post, but I do know that this blog really helped me when I was struggling after losing Poppy and Pipkin.  I hope it will be able to help me again now.  And in helping me, help Pickle.

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