Tree

At work we got a voucher for a tree. One area of the parking lot was filled with trees and people giving out hot chocolate milk. All trees were in a net, a green sausage if you will.
Because the new house is so large and the living room plenty high enough I said to DP "let's take the biggest tree they have"
HB was kind enough to let us fill his car with the tree and suffer the needles after he dropped it of with us. We fed him dinner for it ;-)
It took a while before we got around to unpacking the tree, and DP decided it should be in a corner. First after taking the netting off, nothing much happened. The branches are ever so slow coming down. Now it is standing quietly and dark and very wide. It is a beautiful tree. No one seems in a hurry to decorate it and that is fine by me. It wouldn't make the tree any more beautiful to me.
Somehow it makes me feel like we have a giant teddybear in the corner of the room, keeping watch.

Sending you hugs for this time of year.
VV

Talking too much

I talk a lot.
My mother talks more. (and starts to repeat her stories too)
My mother is almost 73. She has a busy schedule, most of it involving activities with other ladies, no matter if it is volunteer work, charity, tennis lessons, choir, museum visits or lace making.
At lunch she told me that one woman said to the group of talking women they were with that she has no husband or children and found it painful to have to listen to the rest of them constantly chattering about their husbands, children or grandchildren.
I'm not sure what kind of reaction my mother wanted from me (yes, she did want me to say something). I'm hoping she didn't want an explanation, so I just said I was aware of this possibility while we were still considering treatment. I think even BambiEyes did point this out to me, that after other people getting pregnant comes the next generation of other people becoming grandparents, that I would have to deal with that later on.
I took that as encouragement. Now or Never. and while 'Now' seemed to slip away, the Never seemed to grow ever longer.
Maybe that is what my mother wanted to share, the future pain that I will miss. (I hope so)
But I'm a bit afraid my mother thought it was strange or not polite from this woman to say this out loud.

Also.
I have a new temp boss at work. He wanted an introduction get-to-know-each-other conversation. In which he not only asked if I met DP at work but also if he was already separated or not when we met. It's been a couple of weeks now, and it still bugs me.
The other gem was him first suggesting his own first child came 9 months after a party, and when I said it is not that easy for everyone he said he had 2 couples of friends that are in the process of adopting or doing DE. I did say politely it was amazing he still had friends.

777

When I got back from my trip I was overwhelmed by how big our new house is. When we first moved here it was after months and months of being involved in many details of the renovation, so it was more of a project. I was feeling proud of what was achieved, of the realisation what we had set out to do.
Then one month trying to get settled wasn't really enough.

On the trip I had very little time or space to myself, and just enough energy for scuba diving and keeping my milk production going.

Getting back was a bit of a shock in more ways than one.
Halfway through the flight home (in the middle of the night) there was a call for medical assistance. The doctor from our scuba group and 2 other people got up to offer help.
I checked the inflight map system and saw we were above the big nowhere between Ulaanbaatar and Novosibirsk and did a silent prayer for the person in need. I tried to doze of and later saw we were heading for Moscow instead of Amsterdam.
We did a quick stop to get the poor passenger to a hospital, and arrived home with just 2 hours delay. we met up with the doctor who told us the passenger in need was a woman who was only 24 weeks pregnant. They found out there were contraction inhibitors on board they could administer, and with help from 'ground control' Moscow was picked as best option. I'm trying not to think about what it must be like getting stuck in a Russian hospital with contractions at 24 weeks.
It was ever so reassuring that DP came to the airport swinging Suzy about to pick me up. So happy to see them, even if unshaven (him) or covered in dried snot (her).
Still hard to adjust from hot to freezing temperature.

And suddenly the house felt so big! It is 'the new house', not yet our new home. When I say house keys I mean the keys of the old house, I say keys of the door in the ally when I mean the new ones.
This morning I had a new shock: I looked at the gas meter. (Our central heating and hot water system works on gas) 777 m3 in a good two months, roughly 500 euros.
And winter has not even begun.
The doll house had an energy bill of 1000 euros a year......
We've adjusted the thermostat programming as soon as we got home, shaving of degrees and hours of the heating schedule, and we will keep a sharp eye on that meter for the next couple weeks.

(depending on how that goes I might think of curtains. I do enjoy the view so much though)

It was fine

As always with the news, it's different when you are there. It was all fine and nice and paradise.
Maybe 200 km north of us disaster had struck, but the most we noticed was more power outages. But the diving resorts are out in the sticks most of the time, and had their own generators.

Missing DP and Suzy wasn't bad (as I had feared) but the whole 'wow I'm in paradise' wasn't as soothing as other years (as I had hoped). I guess the biggest difference was: this time I didn't want or need to be away from my daily life.
One afternoon, on a rare occasion spending time with HB alone, we listened to the soundtrack of 'Once', a movie we watched together almost 3 years ago. It reconnected to the sadness I felt then. And it made me so sharply aware of the differences between now and then: HB's father died, Suzy came into existence, HB's mother is no longer (she doesn't recognise him anymore, can't even follow simple conversation).
It was good to see HB enjoying paradise.

It is good to be back home.

Lighting candles

December 8, 7pm

remembering our miscarriages, and yours.

I've lit more than a dozen candles in total (because there are 10 little candles for May&H)


(On youtube some videos from last year. Someone said 'remembering the children who lost their lives too soon' As if there are children who lost their life just in time?)

Small Virus into a Super Typhoon

Last week I was horizontal with some virus. Silly little bug made me dislike food, even the lunch I'd already had. So from Thursday to Monday I ate and drank very very little.
My aunt came in to look after Suzy who happened to be asleep at that time.
She berated me for even contemplating my upcoming trip. How could I leave Suzy after fighting for her for 6 years? While I'm still breastfeeding? While we just moved and surely I would endanger my relationship with DP as well?!
And all of that on a very tiny empty stomach.

When I told DP that evening he was as flabbergasted as I was. (thank goodness)

As soon as I was up and reading the news again it started to dawn on me the news wasn't good. That biggest typhoon of recorded history? you guessed it, my trip is supposed to go to the Philippines. 36 hours till departure, 60 till arrival, right now it is hard to judge whether my hotel will still be standing or if the roads will be passable.
Right now the airline (Cathay) is saying it is delaying today's flight till tomorrow. Will see what they say tomorrow though.
Going and not going both seem ridiculous options now...

PS, I seem to publish two posts together every time now, and then some people miss the earlier one

Storm

On Monday I was supposed to work half a day.
And the weather was supposed to be very stormy.

I didn't feel good about it and decided to work from home.
The windows were rattling and at times it felt like the house was shaking. The water in the canal was swept sideways, sirens were riding past and all the sounds made me uneasy.
Then the painter who was working on another part of the house heard it on the radio: a tree on our canal had fallen, and killed a woman. If I would be so kind to stay inside.
I followed his advice and slowly a knot tied in my stomach.
This is what I saw the next morning, one bridge away from our new place:

 Can you believe how calm the water is again?
Then I turned to go to work, and was shocked to see another tree, at another bridge:

The knot in my stomach kept telling me: it could have been me. (No, it couldn't, I stayed inside) I'm sort of glad I don't know which tree was the fatal one.

Moved & Minor Miracles

We moved.
We survived.
On October 15th it was exactly 8.5 years (oh and one month) that we were together. We used to do something special on the 15th in the earlier years. This month we made up for all the not-so-special 15th-s and moved into our own house. It was stressful at times, the weeks before and after. But we knew each other well enough to not get into useless fights.
DP still confuses left and right, is still in major To-Do-List mode but it is all good. If not all finished.
In the weekend we did after-move chores, only to get ready for the next big thing.

MIL turned 75 and wanted to celebrate with the entire family (of 11) in a hotel in the east of the country for a weekend. And a minor miracle happened: DP's oldest, 14 year old did join. It was the first time he would see me since a year ago, so the first time he would see Suzy. It was remarkably normal. With everyone arriving in various cars we met there, DP's youngest son doing the introduction: 'this is my little sister'.
(He dropped the half-sister thing a while back) 
The oldest has always been fond of babies, and still was.

Not a word was uttered on what did and did not happen in the past. It is past anyway.
I'm much relieved, DP was happy to feel complete and his parents were the richest people on earth having all of us around.

Banana

Babypost coming up.

When Suzy was born she weighed 3.9 kilos. At first she lost some weight, as is quite normal for breastfed babies. Then she struggled for 3 weeks to gain back that weight, but then she started growing. And hasn't stopped since. Babybacon thighs even, yum.  At 5.5 months she began to notice that we put  'things' in our mouths, and wanted to try some.
Spoonfeeding made her vomit, not such a success...
So we have had her try herself almost everything we eat that is solid enough for her to hold in her little chubby hands, so she could get used to food without us forcing it upon her. At first she would contort her face, like she couldn't believe we would eat actual bread. Fruit, even banana, seemed too strong or strange a flavour. But she kept coming back to bread. Chewing it, sucking on it and losing it from her mouth again. yes, we had a book that said this is a normal first stage of learning to eat.  It also said it could take a few days. or weeks. It never said it could be almost two months before she got the hang of swallowing.
But this weekend marks a tiny milestone: Suzy ate some banana...
We let her try herself, and when the banana pieces were small and slippery on the table I put them on the tip of my finger and she could suck them off.
She weighs 8.1 kilo now and I think she will depend on my milk for a bit longer. But it does amaze me that she doubled in weight just feeding from my boobs.

(Don't tell DP, but if all goes well I would like to give Suzy milk till she decides she doesn't need or want it anymore. It does put strain on my body but my BMI is still 20.4, so above 20, so still healthy I think.)

Thrown out

We're moving soon, 12 days to go.
So we are packing boxes.
I'm a hoarder, so every time I move there are more boxes with 'archive' / memories / stuff
And DP is a purger, throwing things out that don't need to move with us. I have been hiding the medicine boxes from the DE-IVF all this time, stuffed in a plastic bag. Of course he started to throw them out. To him they are nothing more than old paper, clutter. He was a little incredulous that I kept that many useless boxes. What had a planned to do with them, he asked.
I couldn't come up with an answer, not in words. As if I need to hold on to something tangible, proof how hard it was. Proof for Suzy that we didn't just hop on a plane and steal/buy an ovum on a whim.
He suggested we take a photo, but I was feeling all grey and unmovable, unconvinced that would make it better.
I was adamant we kept all the tests (again he was surprised there were that many), he just threw out the wrappers and boxes and put them in with the one unused test that is left.
What to do with that one I don't know.
   

Time goes slowly when you're dead

August 6 was my deceased cousin's birthday.
I visited his grave like I do every year, planted a pink geranium. I usually plant a little white rose, but the plant shop didn't sell them at that moment. Pink with purple it was.
I took Suzy with me, as if I needed to introduce her. But I was nervous about driving with her on my own so I asked my mother to join us. While it was reassuring to have company, it was not the same as visiting the grave on my own. I couldn't get into the emotional space to think of my cousin properly, so just did the physical part, a bit of gardening, and didn't dare to 'talk' to my cousin.( Forever 31.
He did meet DP, he did ask me if DP was the guy for me, but cousin didn't live long enough to know about our IF. Wasn't there to think through DE with us.) I'll go back another time, he won't mind.
Also, if he and I don't believe in heaven, he will not have met the vanished twin. Anyway.

Mom took pictures at the grave. Looks odd, the juxtaposition of new baby and the stone marking the end of his life. I have been a bit locked up since the visit. After a month decided I should write cousin a letter, get it out. In Dutch, so won't publish. Somehow it is harder to write in dutch... More practice writing here..
And so much happening in the here and now to keep me from writing.
We're not dead, and time doesn't go slowly at all now.

Luxury Problems

The renovation is almost finished.
We might even get a proper connection to gas and electricity. Who knows, even water, but that request seems in eternal limbo.
The roof started leaking and ruined a newly stuccoed wall. Had it fixed. and found out the water now chooses the other side to leak through. (Only) minor damage to a wooden floor.
Luxury problems.

The Movers come Oct 15th.
The (empty) boxes came today. 120 of them.

I didn't get the promotion at work. Because, well, I had been Away with being pregnant and all.
And my boss implied I shouldn't complain because I have More Important Things to Worry about. So I do the high skilled work while keeping the low payed job.
See, I have a job. And not getting paid for it like the others who do the same work is a luxury problem. The only reason I accepted this job was to keep my sanity. So I refuse to drive myself insane with the unfairness of it. My boss might've been a friendly coworker, he is not a good manager to me.

Suzy. Yes, my dear little human. There is some magic in waking up in the night and feed her, that small body in the big bed, latching on, relaxing, falling asleep. I carry you back to your crib, but only because I need some sleep myself. Trust me, I wish I didn't. My elbow hurts at weird moments, probably from getting old and carrying you. And some hours later we repeat this.
I keep telling myself that if I firmly believe that broken sleep will get me rested as well I should feel rested. It is true you get used to not sleeping so well. But some days I can't think straight with how tired I feel. A rational part of me tries to tell me that breastfeeding takes a lot of energy, that maybe now is the time to rethink how much energy I can afford to spend on milk, and reducing my chance of ovarian cancer and ... I don't even want to look down the list of perimenopausal risks.
Luxury problems, I tell myself. I'll give it my all.

Going away with HB and the scuba friends group. for two weeks, in Nov. I'm crazy, I'll miss DP, the new house and Suzy so much. Luxury problem. I want to still breastfeed, I'll pump and feed the fish.

I don't know why the previous five years were so slow and everything is happening now at once. at breakneck speed too.
Sort of waiting for something to go horribly wrong. Till then, gnawing the bone and sucking the marrow from this year.

Dreamtime

"In Australian Aboriginal mythology, Dreamtime is a sacred era in which ancestral totemic spirit beings created the world."

creating the world, creating new life, a new individual... The first half of this year already feels like a dream. Such a special time, with its own time warp. Even though I take a picture almost every day it still feels like sand flowing through my fingers. I would like to hold on to this time. To wrap myself and Suzy in an eternal baby-now. After longing for this for so long it seems to go by so very very quickly.
Five months now, and I am shocked by the first tentative sensation of two tiny bottom teeth.
Later this week it will be August, which means I will go to work 70%. While more days and hours at work means I can get into it again and not feel like a fraud sitting behind my desk, it is also so much more normal. Like before. Not exactly as if nothing has happened, but almost.
Did I enjoy it as much as humanly possible? Did I do everything to drink it all in? Did I spend enough time with her, and share with family?
I feel a little melancholy, knowing deep down that this is the only time I'll get to do this. The hurt for the twin that didn't make it is unpredictable, but pops up every now and then. I don't want to 'try again' for 'another baby'. I don't want another, I wanted that one (those two)
(and yes, it is hard to allow that sadness and not constantly berate myself to count my blessings and hug Suzy tight. I shouldn't be surprised that the twin wriggles itself into another blogpost. Where else would it be?)
So um, normal seems hard sometimes...

Take care, and cherish your dreams.

Blogger ate my post

Finally I wrote this post about love.
And then blogger ate it. Not even a draft was left. Or maybe it was a firefox crash or a sudden battery-low-shut-down while I was trying to get it to publish...
It was the first time I actually lost a post. Comments I've lost frequently, but this... ah well, I'll try again.
Later.

Back to work.
I found it a bit shocking when the first of July rolled around. First half of this year gone! past! So much happened and I´m not nearly done soaking it all up.
Torn between wanting to document it, and actually living it. So much here and now, and it just keeps going.
Heather (sorry, link removed) writes: "We’re trapped in that weird new baby space/time continuum where you feel like you’ve known the baby your whole life, but every day runs together into one endless feed/sleep/poop loop."

Now I have to break the continuum. I went back to the office. Sat down on my chair, at my own desk that has been waiting for me the whole time.
I was prepared for some emotional turmoil when leaving Suzy at the daycare. Didn't happen. I mostly found it soothing to know she is finally around other babies. Maybe she doesn't miss her twin, but I do.

More than half

It's well documented, this phenomenon. For a couple sharing household duties each party feels that (s)he is doing more than her/his share.
And I hate it.
DP doesn't seem too happy about it either.
There is always more to do, never an end to laundry. The dishwasher broke so we have to arrange a replacement and do dishes by hand in the mean time. The house is cluttering up.
We have completely given up on cleaning the windows or the balcony years ago.
I guess we try to be efficient in doing all the bits and pieces. But I just realised (once again) that when you split the duties and optimise all time spend on chores we and up doing them alone.
And therefore start to feel alone.
So maybe I should stop feeling sorry for myself for DP not wanting to do what I think needs to be done right now, and snuggle up with him and Suzy on the couch...

hugs to you

Out of sorts

Last night I couldn't sleep. And I realised it has been a while since I last lay awake. Before DE there were always big decisions to ponder. Big emotions to deal with. I know having Suzy in the here and now doesn't erase the past, but it does leave me less time and energy to think and ponder about it.
And there it was.
Even though I didn't realise it straight away.
Did start up my laptop and started reading blogs. Having my toes and fingers crossed for May. Reading about Shannon stopping blogging because of a step teenager.
But it took me half this day to realise that two years ago exactly DP and I went to the beach to say farewell to our Knut.
I'm not very good at feeling the happy (for what is) and the sad (for what isn't) on the same day. Do still miss my BambiEyes, feel like I have left things unfinished with my therapy. Probably should accept there is no such thing as being finished with emotions or grief.
So today is a good day to be sad, to remember all we have been through, all we have lost.

Today also happens to be the day someone gave us their old high chair that is very similar to the one we use for Suzy (but on ours the newborn adaptor didn't fit)
So suddenly we had two chairs at the table. One fit for a baby. One empty. The closest thing I can imagine of a picture of a vanished twin. The closest thing to making it tangible. And it is still almost too big to feel all at once.

Tears for today. Tomorrow is another day. Another birthday.

memories getting hazy-er-der

Some memories I wanted to write something coherent about, but it seems that will  not happen before they fade even more. So I'll try it this way.

Our bedroom is in the attic, our bed sheltered under the rafters. Suzy´s crib just of the foot end of the bed. I remember that first time that DP took Suzy to her crib, saying that we both should get some sleep. I tried laying back in my pillows. And slowly realised I was alone in my body. And Suzy was alone in her crib. Alone. ALL ALONE. And had to take her back and hold her close.

Tuesday Feb 26. DP went to the city hall to register Suzy's birth,  had an appointment at 11 AM.
At 10:50 I was standing over her crib, looking down on that tiny tiny face. And I remember thinking that for 10 more minutes she would just be ours, mine. So private, so pure, just herself. No number to represent her, no database to know of her, nothing virtual or official. Just that dreamlike reality. I don´t think I was afraid that the bubble would burst, but it did feel a bit less safe somehow.
This week I realised I needed her social security number, so I opened the envelope with her paperwork. And found out the city had given her a tag blanket. Welcoming her as an Amsterdam citizen.

Suzy is eleven days old and I think I´m strong enough to take her outside. Well, with DP carrying her. To the new cake shop that opened 5 doors down the street. I only just made it, had to sit down inside to rest. Then DP walked me back and continued with Suzy to the printer to pick up envelopes for her birth announcement cards.

Suzy in her crib, and I want to sing her a lullaby. The first few times I was just so emotional I choked up, couldn´t even finish the simplest of songs. Now, with months of practice, I sing her Brahms´ Wiegenlied, making up our own lyrics. And bah bah black sheep both in English and in Dutch. And wonder every time how that sheep changes colour in translation ;-)


update: (almost forgot)
the first ten days or so I didn't dare to use deodorant, afraid that Suzy would not learn my natural smell. I was too weak to move anyway, so not sweating 

In the news

Every now and then something horrible hits the news. I think the paper said that on average in my little country it's  once a year that a 'family drama' occurs: when a parent kills their children and commits suicide. This time it came with a twist, because the two little bodies were hidden, and half the country was searching for two weeks. (with hope fading of finding them alive)
On the day they were found another missing person story made it to the paper. She was a famous Dutch volleyball player. And had gone to Murcia, Spain with her partner. Just for three days, probably for fertility treatment. They haven't come back.

We almost went there. Around this time of year, last year. It feels like I have escaped something. It feels like it could have been us.

That feeling will fade I suppose. It's just....... Take care (and please don't go missing) 

[Update: It didn't end well. Suspects have been arrested, bodies found]

{another horror story with thank goodness a miracle ending: chinese baby found alive after having been born in and flushed down a toilet. Poor woman. poor baby}

M-day

(M-day is not the same day in every country, here it is the second Sunday in May)

2 AM. I wake up because I can feel something on my body. It is milk, trickling down. A very special way to realise this is my first mother's day as a mother.

Later there were chocolates and strawberry cheesecake.

But there is something nagging me about this day. I had said to DP that I didn't want to ignore it now, so he asked me what gift I wanted and dutifully went out to get some chocolates. But after so many years of it being a painful reminder of not being a mother it didn't turn into something happy. As always, happiness doesn't come when the calender dictates. And the blogs I started reading the first are still waiting, fighting and hoping for their miracle. And I know how it feels if you have been trying longer and someone else gets their miracle when it isn't even their turn....

update....
I have a stupid confession to make: I bought myself a stupid gift. And made a silly photo of it too.

DEtails

Only a few people irl know about the DE-IVF. We have decided to tell Suzy first, so she will grow up always knowing, but leave it up to her who she wants to share her origins with.
(I should really make a list because I'm already forgetting who knows and who doesn't.)

My parents know. And somehow this doesn't stop my mother from pointing out that Suzy looks like DP over and over again. She even asked if I didn't mind. Apparently it was a rhetorical question, because despite I said I did mind she hasn't been able to stop herself.
I'm telling myself to forgive her, she adores Suzy, she helps out whenever she can. She is most likely genuinely pleased to spot the resemblance...
There is no doubt my parents consider her 100% family. I was a bit afraid my father would find it awkward, but he is completely smitten with her too.

Suzy was born with brown hair. Much unlike DP's boys who were bold for their first two years. Now (April) her hair starts to go a bit chestnut. We say she must have gotten it from me.

She has my ears. Tiny ears with tiny free earlobes. DP's ears have attached earlobes.

Everyone has long legs. And my family is skinny too. Although at 8 weeks Suzy is putting on her first rim of Michelin man legs.

She has dark blue eyes. In her left eye, on the left side, from 9 to 11 if you will, a bit of brown. DP's eyes are summer sky blue, mine a forest of browns and greens with a drop of honey. We are ever so curious if they will change or remain blue.
(And already I hear myself saying that my brother has blue eyes too. This Monday Apr 22 a family friend remarked Suzy looks like my brother. It made me smile. Just a gentle happy smile, not a if-you-only-knew smile)

So. After deciding that the donor is such a good match and therefore looks like me, I feel comfortable saying Suzy looks like me. I'm grateful she does, that they both do. 

Permission

The Building Permission is granted!
And work started about the same day. Those guys must like demolition, we hardly have time to think.

View of missing future roof terrace into our kitchen-to-be.

The kitchen has a similar hole in the floor.

Once the floor and roof are in place, and separate meters/cables/pipes for electricity/water/gas are installed, we can officially buy 'our' part of the property.
Till then a gazillion decisions to be made. Because we need to prepare now for all the work we need to have done, also the part after separating our future living space from the remaining office below.
It feels a bit weird not doing part of the actual work ourselves, but the office needs to be in shape to be rented it out asap...

We have been waiting/searching a long time to find this property, and it is taking a year and a half to actually really buy it. From now it will be just a few months and this build can make another dream come true. Feels a bit like a 'grand designs' episode. I've always wondered why people got babies in the middle of construction work. But after all those years I couldn't be happier that it all happens now.
Hoping this will not turn in some kind of nightmare, but after all we have already gone through this feels easier to navigate. Even when plans change on a daily basis, even when we don't always feel in control, even when we expect setbacks dealing with a 17th century house where nothing is straight or level.

I mean, who wouldn't want a new beamed ceiling so we can gain 5 cm height in the kitchen?

more first times

April 10. It was such a quiet evening that DP decided to do some serious work on his bicycle. New pedals, sprockets, cog-wheels and chain type of work. After an hour or two I heard, in quick succession, the sound of breaking glass, strong language, a very urgent doorbell.
When I opened the door DP was doubling over in pain, holding his arm, bleeding all over the place, asking me to get something to stop the bleeding. I picked a dark towel and called 911.
Someone sensible answered the phone and after making sure it was an accident and not a fight instructed to remove the towel again to check how serious the bleeding was. It felt scary and boy did it look scary, but the blood wasn't gushing on the rhythm of his pulse. So, not life threatening then, and no ambulance. But I was still panicking a bit, and rang the neighbours' doorbell. She was home, but he was gone with the car so she couldn't bring DP to the ER. Same story for the neighbours at the other side! thank goodness our neighbour kept her wits, gave DP something to drink, wrapped him in a fleece blanket and suggested I call a taxi.
Since DP is not great with blood and needles I decided to go with him, and realised we had to take Suzy as well. Even though my neighbour offered to look after her. But I had no expressed milk stored at all.
During the taxi ride DP and I recovered from the shock and realised that it was a nasty cut, but nothing too bad as the bleeding had tapered of considerably.
And so we arrived back at the hospital where Suzy was born a few weeks earlier. But now the roles were reversed: I was carrying the maxi cosi with Suzy, and we were there to support DP. Which she did by being cute and quiet for two hours.
DP was stitched up and now walks around showing people his Frankenstein picture. And advises people to not stumble over your tool box in a bike shed with single glass window panes.

The day after my father came by and spoke the memorable words

"Valery, you may want to remove the blood from your doorbell"

I did.

Jumble

You know how, when something hurts too much, you close the lid on that feeling? And when you try to lift the lid it tries to crush you? I'm not sure what I'm feeling these days, but the crushing feeling is there. I do miss my BambiEyes. I don't want to have to explain it all over again to someone else and then find them unhelpful. She helped me understand what I was feeling, she helped me try find words and then made me give myself permission to feel those feelings. I do want to blog but it is hard to get my thoughts straight. Let alone put words to feelings.

When we had to pick the words for the birth announcement card I nearly broke down. What a lousy and ungrateful person I must be for not putting on the cards how happy we are? how lucky? how much we wanted her? how long we waited? But I hated the clichés, they felt impersonal and brrr, the exaltation. So we settled on saying our Suzy was born.

People ask me to confirm that 'it was all worth it', now that Suzy is here. I've stopped saying yes. I have decided the question is ridiculous, it is the wrong question. Infertility takes an emotional toll, it scars you. Looking back hurts. Thinking of the vanished twin is hard. Trying to imagine the could-have-beens is simply too much now.

I know that I'm tired. I know that when I'm tired I'm more emotional. There's hormones (I suppose), so tears are loose. I'm afraid of missing something important, of not 'creating the right emotional experience'. I want to feel something simple, to be able to say 'this is joy' or 'I'm so happy'.
But it's all jumbled.
Most of the time it is too hard to open the lid.

Something small

Today I was talking to Suzy as we were walking through the house. Usually I call her little Suzy, or sweet little girl.
When I stepped from the room into the hallway she looked a bit frightened, her deer-in-the-headlight eyes looking up to me. I wanted to soothe her and said "it's OK, I'm your mother"
And I promptly burst into tears....
It was the first time I had said that out loud.

something so small
yet so big

trying to keep track

In the order in which it happened:
21 Feb: last-day-of-pregnancy
22 Feb: Birth night
22 Feb: the day
23 Feb: the next
still to write about going home and recovery

just in case not every post showed up ...

Hello World

40 years ago my parents were new to their street. When I was born they decided to invite the neighbours and everyone else in the street plus family and friends to a big reception (in their big house). This way they would get to know more people around them and also have most of the baby-visits over and done with in one go.

With me horizontal for so many days it became obvious that I would not be able to receive many visitors any time soon.
And our big house may not be ours for quite some months to come.
My parents didn't hesitate to repeat history, they even got my birth book to check to do lists, guests and ingredients.
It was wonderful.
It was overwhelming.
It was incredible to physically see so many people who cared in some way.
I think around 60 people attended. Half of them invited by me and DP (including our families), the other half people my parents invited, people who belonged to the fabric of my youth.
There was plenty 'beschuit met muisjes'

There was tea

There was cake

There was  'kandeel', an old fashioned home brew from oblivion, cinnamon, white wine and egg yolks( I think the only other time I heard of that was at my (and my brothers) birth)

And we need to get Suzy her own bookcase for all the lovely books she got.

Suction Cup Suzy

Hospital staff was wonderful.
I could push a button when Suzy or me needed a clean diaper and they took good care of both of us. I think I kept feeding Suzy every couple of hours.
At 3 AM one of the nurses asked if she would take Suzy to the children's room so I could get some sleep?
What? A children's room? with trained professionals looking after her? well, yes please! Sleep to get my recovery going sounded like a marvellous idea.
Around 5:30 they brought Suzy back, screaming loudly for more milk. No problem! And I was allowed some more sleep after that.
When the day started a new nurse came in with Suzy again. And told me with a smile that she had been a handful. Apparently all the nurses had taken turns trying to settle her, and hospital breastfeeding rules discourage the use of a soother and promotes a pinky finger instead. And so she earned her first nickname: Suction Cup Suzy ;-)
And I was glad to know that her suction was very powerful indeed, that it wasn't my imagination. Also, no need for me to worry about this whole teat/nipple confusion conundrum, she will suck the life/milk out of anything you put within her reach.
Looking at her little face, the complete devotion to latching on, with the attack of a viper-kitten, like her life depends on it... well I suppose in a way it does...
Breaking that seal took a bit of practice, and I was surprised to find quite how far a nipple stretches within a babies mouth (using my pinky finger whole top digit to spoon it out from her palate)

Even now when I write this 3 weeks on, I have to look and double check if she has taken a big mouthful of breast with lips curled outwards when latching on, she can still be soo eager and superquick that I don't always have time to shape my breast for her mouth to catch properly.

The day after the night before

Friday, still the 22nd of February.
My parents and HB coincidentally showed up at the same time, so we could more or less formally announce all Suzy's given names: one for my mother, one for DP's mother and one for HB, who was conveniently named after an aunt of his.
The three of them left for work (or playing tennis), the three of us could take a nap: a camping bed was wheeled in for DP and he crashed gratefully.
Two hours later we had to move from delivery to nursery, much more comfy bed for me, no bed for DP.
When I had to shift to the other bed however the nurses warned me: I might not be able to stand up...
Gloops...
Tried very carefully, and was glad to discover I could still manoeuvre myself 20 cm across. But was indeed glad to go back to horizontal!
The sun came out, an aunt came over before lunch.
My mother popped in the bring more biscuits and coloured aniseeds ('beschuit met muisjes')
DP picked up his youngest son from school and his parents so the afternoon was full house. My FIL looked golden to finally have a granddaughter too. It was wonderful to see DP's youngest make the transformation to bigger brother, he was really happy to be there.

When he kept asking for more 'beschuit met muisjes' the traditional Dutch birth treat I send DP and his family out to go get some food. I knew they were allowed to stay with me till 8 PM, but I didn't want to stretch the new big brother love that far. I mean, you can only keep a hungry 9 year old for so long... (and it was only 5 PM)
DP's parents took back their gift to get Suzy's name engraved on the dinner set.

Can't remember much about the breastfeeding (ohw, should have written this earlier!)
just that I was completely amazed about how strong a newborn can be!
And that tiger-crawl-towards-breast-reflex? if it is stimulated it gets stronger!!! So with Suzy on my chest she would kick her legs, push up on her arms, lift her head and let it crash like a little wrecking ball, suckle where she landed and if no milk comes out try again 5 cm further on.
And when she latches, OMG my poor nipple didn't know what was happening to it. I was warned that the first 30 seconds can be quite painful, but when milk starts flowing it should subside. It did, thank goodness. And I knew to take it easy, just a few minutes at the time to get into it without overdoing it. So I stopped when the pain came back.

(ah, an aside on pain: my whole pelvic floor area was blissfully numb for at least a week. Didn't feel a thing)

When everyone finally left I was tired. Made a phone call to HB and talked him through posting the B-day post.
And Suzy was still at my side, in her glass crib on wheels... I could lift her out myself to feed or cuddle her.
Or I could just lay there and look at her.
our DE miracle.
real now.

Birth Night

Very short version:
birth was fine, baby girl doing really well, afterbirth caused too much blood loss to be fun.
Next day I was fine too (but very weak).

Short-ish version:
at midnight we arrived with a taxi at the hospital. DP had 2 backpacks on his back, an empty maxicosi swinging from his one arm and a moaning me on his other.
We called my photographer friend J.
Within the hour a doctor said I was 5 cm dilated. Another hour 7-8. Three quarters of an hour later I felt like a slight urge to push was mingling in the waves, someone said only the slightest rim was left and I was allowed to start pushing gently. Found it difficult to change tack (which way is down anyway when you're on a bed?)
Another hour later the tiniest head of hair peaked into this world, but a shoulder wasn't turning. Capable hands showed the way, and minutes later she was there, our little baby girl.
Warm on my belly, wriggling her knees like she had so many months.
Unbelievable.
I knew her, she was mine, now ours.
Suzy.

A couple of minutes of peace.
(This was the easy bit)

Afterbirth was high velocity drama, loosing blood, ever more blood.
IV, another IV, oxygen, alarms beeping, more machines and tubes and measurement, more doctors.
I asked DP to hold our daughter as there was too much going on with my body.
I had felt some euphoria, but it drained with the blood. I knew I was in the best hands I could be, they would surely save me if possible. If only they would let me sleep and stop hurting me....

Suddenly Suzy was back with me, latched onto my breast, the strangest sensation as it caused yet another contraction and sent both the placenta (and the emergency OR team) on its way.
Alas, still bleeding.
J was done long done taking pictures and was holding my hands instead.
My pain tolerance had vanished completely, every question reduced me to tears and I could only think of crying for my mommy, of wanting to go home. But I needed stitches, they took enormous care with every layer (if only the bleeding would stop).
They triple checked everything there is to check (blood clotting OK, Hb down to 4.2) but couldn't find a(nother) cause. And eventually the bleeding tapered of. I had bled through the entire stack of  'mats' of that delivery room, which were collected on the same scale as they had used the weigh little Suzy. She was 3930 grams, my blood 2570 ml.
J left as quietly as he had come in.
It was then decided I better get some new blood, and would stay the day in hospital.
I called my parents and HB

Last day of pregnancy

will be updated at some stage (at least, that is my plan ;-)

 My cousin came over for the day. From the train station it is only a short ferry ride & walk to the new building of the film museum. A special expo on Oskar Fischinger 1900-1967 .He did animation to classical music before the invention of the computer. Ballet for coloured blocks...
Best bit was sitting in the sun in the cafe

because the whole walking thing was getting a bit tiresome. And my mother had simply forbidden to go on those endless stairs.

On the way home we had to take a break for what I thought were some Braxton Hicks, and sat on a bench in the sun at one of Amsterdam's lovely bridges.
Around 3-ish I was getting a bit uncomfortable and my cousin left so I could take a nap. We were wondering if this was the start of anything, but nothing regular...

I had loaded an app on DP's tablet to time contractions. To ease my mind I started using it around 5 maybe, but realised that with 17 and 44 minutes apart the occasional 5 minutes didn't mean much. I thought we would be in for a night where the books said I might fall asleep because it was only a practice run...
While the really long intervals disappeared my belly still was doing it's irregular thing, and never much longer than 20 seconds or so. Around 10 DP wanted to go to bed, so I tried.
Belly started to get a bit painful.
But our instructions said not to worry before we had had an hour long of contractions 5 minutes apart, lasting 60 seconds.
Between 23 and 23:20 however contractions were suddenly 3 minutes apart (but still not lasting a full minute) and I asked DP to inform the hospital, and ask them what to do.
Their answer was quite simple: come in.
Taxi arrived within 10 minutes.
The books also said that quite often on the road to the hospital the contractions stop, but no such luck. I was wriggling through them on the back seat (and DP had wisely chosen the front seat)
I was still half afraid that we would be sent back, as I still wasn't sure if this was the real thing...
At the hospital reception desk they wanted to send us to ER, figuring we were there with a sick baby in the maxicosi. I admit that my yoga pants weren't exactly flattering, but geez, can't you see I'm as pregnant as I'm ever going to be?

Home

home sweet home
on the day after.
Will write soon.
lots of love.

B-day

On behalf of Valery, I'd like to share the happy news that a little girl (weighing 3930g) has been born 03.47AM today! Due to loss of blood, Valery will spend another night at the hospital but if all goes well, she'll be home tomorrow!

On my own behalf, I'm happy to report having become a godfather today :-)

FoF

For a long time I had wanted to let FoF know how much the whole experience had meant to me, and how important plan D (with her as our donor) was as a stepping stone for plan E (España, unknown donor). To explain that we couldn't have done that without her.
But between email and text messages we just hadn't really gotten around to meet up or talk again.

Today I felt time was sort of virtual, like extra time that shouldn't have existed or wasn't predicted somehow. And finally plucked up the courage to hop on my bike, cycle over and ring her door bell.
And as luck would have it she was home, alone, and had time for a cup of tea.
She was happy to see me, and when I told her I wanted to show her a big surprise and opened my jacket her face lit up even more, she was so happy to see my belly.

She told me she has been struggling with depression the entire time in between (I think it started Oct 2011, quite shortly after plan D fell through) medication has been problematic. She looked very skinny, but her smile was a hundred shining suns.
We both had been thinking about each other, we both had felt guilty and sad and neither had had the energy to arrange a meeting. Till now.

The time was right and we had a good time. 

D - day (but nothing happened....)

but nothing happened....
rationally I know only 5% of babies chooses their due date to actually be born, but emotionally I don't understand why nothing happened today. I mean, it's D Day ! The day I didn't dare to believe would ever come, and now that it is here it just passes by.

The good news is we had a check up today. 40wk 0 d. We took J along, both as a practice run and for this relatively special occasion, introduced him as the photographer and he promptly melted into the background. Trainee midwife going solo, taking all the time in the world for us.
Blood pressure back to normal: 120/70.
Belly check: all OK, Grasshopper's head engaged (=deep down low, ready for exit) She estimated the weight of the Grasshopper just from her hands on my belly, around 3200 gram, perfectly average.
When we said that DP's boys were a good 4000 she promised to eat her shoe if the Grasshopper would be as heavy ;-)
I said that compared to two weeks ago we feel less 'life'. Rationally we know there is just less room for the Grasshopper, so not only hopping is impossible but also kicks have changed into wriggles. Still going strong, but no more morning or afternoon playtime. She asked if we were worried, and I said I try not to. She asked if we wanted to do a CTG? Yes! The midwife in charge approved of it immediately, so I was hooked up to a belly band + monitor, and were left to listen to the sound of the heartbeat for half hour! (C for cardio)
T for toco, uterine contractions. Except we had no clue what the numbers meant.
And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I settled back in the cushions, legs up on the bed, DP fetching some tea, Grasshopper decided it was showtime.

Top blue line is the grasshopper heartbeat, and every big increase was accompanied by big belly movement. Near the end, the last 5 minutes you can see the rhythm returning to 120, start of the next nap time...
Afterwards they asked if I could feel the contractions? Um, no. If I press my hands on my belly then yes.
Looking at the bottom line you can see some fairly big increases, they must be Braxton Hicks contractions, but as long as I'm relaxed they are not painful at all. (For now!)
Glad we were offered the CTG, and not only reassured but very happy to see and feel the Grasshopper so alive.

While DP was getting us some tea J came up to me with the camera, showing me the 'picture of the day'. Big belly with doppler, my smiling face and DP with a shiny grin on his face.
Even DP agreed that J had a remarkable talent for being in the room without us realising it, so we could be relaxed and ourselves with our emotions.
And relive some of that with those pictures later....

Puku Nui

There are a couple of blog posts swerving through my head that can't seem to make it into separate ones, so I'll simply list them here.

My brother popped over for a visit on Feb 4. It was lovely and so very normal to have him in the house we bought for him and me 12 years ago. He was excited to see my belly instead of just listening to me over the phone. He did bring a minor truckload of baby things with him: more toys, another play mat, baby carrier, bottles, clothes from his two boys. There was also a mobile that we can hang IQ training pics from. Starting with basic shapes in black and white, than moving on to stage 2 plus 3 and lastly faces showing different emotions. (Oh my dear, I didn't even know there was such a thing as baby IQ training. Not sure I wanted to know)
Lunch on a canal.
Showed him our future canal house and he was as enthusiastic as I am.
Meeting up with our parents for tea and cake was weird. They were nervous around him, trying to make holiday plans in order to spend time with his boys. I was tired and a coward and withdrew....

An uncle of mine turned 65 the Saturday after, and had a big do in a museum and restaurant. Everyone thought it was so really special I was there. I had put some effort in dressing up, and at the last minute I asked my mom to fetch her festive Chinese jacket that is both shiny and really wide. I knew she had been wearing that sleeveless jacket when she was pregnant with me, and my uncle recognised it immediately. I'm so grateful I get to repeat some nice parts of history.

My mom had her 72nd birthday in January, and I hadn't really done anything in the way of a gift. So last week I dragged her along to my favourite bicycle shop and made her try this electric bike. While she loved to ride the bike,
she is adamant she doesn't want it. She doesn't want a new bike as it has a high risk of getting stolen. And she thinks she is 'too young' for an electric one, as an 80 year old friend of hers said she regretted not getting an electric bike 5 years earlier. Even though my mom admitted that longer distances are now tiring for her (her volunteer work is 7 kilometers from her home) and Amsterdam bridges seem to be getting higher...
I tried to change tack, saying that her grandchild will grow heavier faster than she will grow older, but she wasn't having any of it.
Then I said I would just order it now, ride it for her for three years so she can have it when she turns 75....
(I guess this means we are equally stubborn and a bit crazy? and not wanting to give in?)

My childhood friend J arrived on Valentine's day. He couldn't bear to stay in France anymore. He's installed as anti-squatter in the canal house now. Loving to be back in Amsterdam. And fully taking care of himself, despite the lack of kitchen and a shower with only cold water.

On Friday Lily came over and we prepared some sewing project for baby bed linen.

Saturday DP and I ventured out to a kitchen showroom that was recommended by our architect. They have everything we could possibly want. And more. Much more. More than I dare to imagine:
(Well, you know. If you ever wanted to dream of an outer space stove landing near you.We'll stick to something with a bit more 17th century feel.)

Can't believe tomorrow is D-Day.