My Heart, Your Home: September 2012   

Thursday, 27 September 2012

When Breast Isn't Best

When I was pregnant with Evelyn I made many decisions about how my life, my household and my parenting choices were going to play out once she arrived. Many of them unrealistic, some of them ill informed, others based on judging the choices of other parents. There is a lot of information we are fed before we have babies and mostly, we don't go digging for any further information. We take the booklets, we listen to the advice, we see other's mistakes and theirs triumphs and we start to make our own choices and decisions based on this. But the reality is, that this information isn't the only, or even the best, information.

While I was pregnant with Evelyn, there was so much about pregnancy, about birth, about parenting that I just didn't know. I wish they told you about the bad and the gory as well as the pleasant and the simple. I wish I was more read. I wish I had have been better prepared. Because once she was here, I had to struggle with the shock and then the disappointment and mostly the guilt of all the things that went so horribly wrong.

We each have our own stories about those first few months with a baby, finding our feet, getting to know each other. Figuring out what works best for us and trying to find a way to make our new lives work. We each have our own stories about how we prepare for the day we are to bring our new baby home and the months that are to follow. My story is quite simple really, but it is an emotional one that still, 17 months later, can make me cry. I thought I was prepared. I thought I had it all under control. The nursery was done, the car seat was installed, the bassinets was made and my mind and heart was ready.

The night I went into labour I was so very excited that the time was finally now and in not too long at all, I would be holding my precious Daughter. We went to the hospital and I endured my 33 hours of labour and then... there she was. Here she is. With me and ready to bond as Mother and Daughter. Our very first moments to be her naked body, next to mine. We were wrapped up in a new kind of love that I will never find the words to explain. Then came the time to feed my new born, crying baby. Not once did my mind ever consider that this may be hard. I put baby to breast and she latched on and suckled away perfectly. The midwives checked to see that all was as it should be, and as it was, they left me to be, new Mother and new Baby. Little did they, or I, know that this would not work so perfectly on the other side.

Before owning a blog I had never admitted this to another person but I have one inverted nipple. Before I was a Mother, I never knew the complications that an inverted nipple can carry. Not once in my preparation to become a breast feeding Mother did I come across any information about how this could affect me and my baby. I did once sit down with a midwife and express my concern about how this may affect my breast feeding journey and she laughed at me. I had to beg her to look at my nipple and beg her to tell me if and how this could change my path. She laughed. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Took a quick look. Rolled her eyes again and then said it'd be fine. She did not discuss with me that it can in fact be a problem. She did not discuss with me that many women cannot breast feed with an inverted nipple. She did not discuss that some women have an operation to have their inverted nipples fixed. She did not talk with me and about nipple pullers, nipple shields, nipple anything. She simply rolled her eyes and ushered me out of her office.

I didn't pursue this any further as it was too humiliating to show your breasts to someone to have them laugh at you and I tried to forget that a problem may be sitting in my bra that will affect the course of my bonding with my baby.

Once Evelyn was here and I saw that this inverted nipple is actually cause for concern, I was to shy and embarrassed to call on the midwives and because they thought I didn't have any troubles, they never asked. I was sent home, unable to feed this new child of mine. Unable to care and nurture her in the best way I could. I went home with an attitude full of fight and hope and I truly believed that I was going to be able to figure this out on my own. This just wasn't so.

After a week of trying every angle I could possibly try to have Evelyn latch onto my left breast my spirits begun to break and my fight begun to falter. I started to feel like a failure. After all, isn't breast feeding meant to be natural? Isn't breast feeding what we are meant to do? Isn't it my responsibility as a Mother to ensure that my baby is given the best and isn't breast, best? 

I can still remember sitting on the side of my bed when Evelyn was 4 weeks old and I was crying to Anthony. Inconsolably. Sobbing. 

I am a failure!

This is the one thing I meant to do naturally, and I cant do it... what kind of a Mother is that setting me up to be?

I cant make my own baby happy. I cant give her what she needs. I am starving her

No one ever told me that breast feeding might not work. No one ever told me that shape or size of your boobs can make it more difficult. No one talks about flat or inverted nipples. No one talks about a bad sucking reflex, low milk supply, cracked and bleeding nipples. No one tells you that it might not work. All they tell you, they hammer into you, is that breast is best.

But what if its not?

I tried so hard to work out a way to be able to feed my baby. I tried every single brand of nipple shield I could find, none of which Evelyn would go anywhere near. I found a device called a nipple puller, its purpose was to draw my nipple out, but rather, it just made it invert even more. I spent hours upon hours in a hot shower or bath trying to draw the nipple out myself, to the point of turning my boob black and blue. I tried to express with a pump from that side, which split my entire nipple in two and instead of expressing milk out of that nipple, my bottle filled with blood. I tried to manually express every hour from that breast, to the point of causing carpel tunnel in my wrists. I tried feeding from only the right side, to the point that my right breast was two cup sizes larger than my left.

I found myself at a breast feeding clinic crying. Heaving, hysterical big breaths of absolute despair and complete defeat. The nurse looked at me and simply said "breast is only best, when it is best for Mother and child". At that point I knew, that breast feeding just wasn't going to work for me. I knew, that if I wanted to create a happy baby and a happy family, I had to admit defeat and let it go. On the way home, I bought my first tin of formula.

I breastfed Evelyn, exclusively, for the first seven weeks of her life. Back then, that was a failure. But today, this is an accomplishment. I introduced my first bottle of formula at seven weeks old and I continued to feed Evelyn from the one breast in the morning and in the evening until she was three months old. 

To me, breast just wasn't best. To me, to continue down the breast feeding path would have caused major destruction. Mental and emotional destruction. I still feel like I haven't quite lived up to the my role of being a Mother and I still feel such a huge amount of guilt for buying that tin of formula. But what I need to remind myself is that before that tin, Evelyn and I were both two very unhappy girls. Crying all through the days and nights. And after? We were at peace. We finally had the energy and strength to bond with each other. We had finally found a sense of happiness and normalcy. 

In the end I had to make a decision that was best for both my baby and I and in our case, breast just wasn't best. I will try again with baby Jelly. But I will not place so much importance and pressure on what is so trivial in the grand scheme of things. 

Your health is just as important, if not more, than the way your baby eats. So if you find yourself in a similar situation just remember that Mum and Baby need to be nurtured!

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Our Love Notes

Anthony is a quiet and private person. He lives his life the way he wishes too and mainly keeps to himself, he does not use any form of social media as he cannot understand the desire to know about peoples business. For this very reason, I don't very often talk of him or of our relationship here or in any other form of social media. I try to respect his privacy as much as he respects my need to share. But, this blog is to be a gift to my Daughter one day. I am using this space as a way to document our lives together and the lessons we learn and teach each other. I cannot give our story to my Daughter with a big Anthony shaped hole in it. He is a part of me, a part of her and a very important part of our story.

Anthony is my partner, my best friend, my accomplice and my support. He is my warmth and my resting place. He is, for me, the calm and the logic that I am lacking and I am for him, the fire and the passion, that he keeps hidden. He challenges my intellect and he gives me direction. I challenge his emotions and remind him to show them. Together we combine and we are for each other, what we have always been without. He is my opposite and I am his, but together we form a team.

Like most relationships, we have had our ups and our downs, we have our trials and our triumphs. We fight, we play, we cry and we laugh. We are just two people who are trying to make it and who sometimes forget to make the other one feel great. All relationships have a fictitious beginning, you know, how we pretend to love the tour de france because he does. Or they pretend to be romantic with flowers, because she wants that. Then once you have them, the truth comes out. There are no flowers and the tour de france will never play on this television while I am in the house. 

Sometimes we let the romance die out, sometimes we revert back to living our lives separately and we forget to do those little things that say to the other, "hey, Im thinking of you and I love you". So, we have had many discussions and arguments between the two of us, about how we aren't letting the other one feel the love. Conversations about how we are getting swept up in the whirlwind that is life as parents and we are forgetting about life as lovers. The thing is, we don't spend much time with just the two of us. We don't have many people who we can call upon to take Evelyn so that we can have that special "us" time. So we need to find other ways to do this. We need to be a little more creative in the ways that we take each others breath away. We need to create moments amidst our daily family life to let the other know that even though we can't run away for the night, I still want you.


For Evelyn's first birthday, we were given a packet of bath crayons. I thought to myself, "Wow! Gee thanks! Another mess I'll have to spend hours scrubbing away". I know right, very appreciative gift recipient here! Evelyn was too young to play with these so they were packed away for a later date and swiftly forgotten about.


One morning I woke up and I dragged my tired feet into the bathroom to find inspiration beneath the hot stinging needles of the shower. I washed the nights bad sleep away and scrubbed in some energy and revitalisation. And as I turned off the shower taps, I found some real inspiration. I found my smile for the day. I found a moment, which took my breath away and made me feel more then loved. I found Anthony's feelings and emotions, which I rarely get to hear, scrawled out in bright coloured bath crayons on my shower screen. My heart melted and my day was made. 

And now, this has become an almost daily ritual. He will write to me and confess his love, and I will wash it away and return the notion. Each and every morning I look forward to getting out of bed and letting my heart skip a beat. 


I thank my friend Zelda, every morning, for that packet of bath crayons. They have breathed a little spark and fire into my relationship that was becoming a little drab and forgetful. They have given us the inspiration to remind each other that we love each other. They have given us fun and they have given us romance. 


There is joy in things as small as a packet of crayons, that even we adults, can learn to find.

***This post was read and approved by Anthony before posting, who requested I add the following disclaimer***

This all originally started with a nice big red letter on my fridge, written in a whiteboard marker, it took us two nights of intensive scrubbing to get it off! Sometimes, romance can backfire!

**Fridges are not whiteboards**

Linking up with Diary of a SAHM IBOT for the first time - thanks for having me :)

Monday, 24 September 2012

At the risk of sounding melodramatic...

The year 2011 was an ordinary year for us.

On New Years Eve I wished upon the first star I saw, I made a resolution and at midnight my hopes were that the year 2012 would be better. Much like most of us do, I wanted to build on the year that was, learn from lessons made, laugh more, live greater, love harder, make more friends, lose weight, save money, learn to bake, clean more, be more organised and just have a year without dramas. A year without loss, without financial concerns, without illness, without pain. The year that we all strive for. The year that, come December, we all start to plan and map out.

The year 2012 has been even less than ordinary. 

It has had many great moments to it, we had a trip to Bali, we finally fell pregnant, we have moved into a family home that we adore. But the day to day drone has been less than enjoyable. At the risk of sounding pessimistic and melodramatic let me tell you a little bit about our life since March this year.

We had the most beautiful family holiday in Bali to celebrate Anthony's 40th birthday, celebrate being a family and to just enjoy being together as us. It was some of the most fantastic 15 days that we have had together. We walked onto the plane to make our travels home, ready to concur the world with fresh and rested minds. We were to take a further week holiday in our favourite little fishing town, Hat Head, with our favourite friends. We arrived home in Sydney at 7am on a Saturday morning and we drove the 5 hour drive to Hat Head that afternoon. On the drive up I was overcome with the most intense pain in my upper back, I whinged to Anthony that the minute I get back in the car, that awful pain comes back. We made it safely to Hat Head and we put ourselves to bed. At 1am that morning I was woken by that pain, it was intense, it was relentless, it was nauseating, it was faint inducing. After an hour or two I found relief by laying on my back and pushing down. The pain stopped. For five minutes. Then it transferred to my abdomen. And it was worse, so much worse. I found myself crawling to the bathroom, vomiting and losing consciousness on the way. The pain didn't go away until 6am that morning. 

I went about my daily business trying to forget the night that was. Until 1am the next morning, it started again. And again, the next night. Until on day four Anthony and I rushed ourselves to the nearest hospital. On my holiday. An hour and a half away. I was admitted. I was stuck with needles. I was doped up on morphine. I was given an ultrasound. Then I was given some news that I could barely believe. My gallbladder is two, thirds full of gall stones. At age 25. I was discharged with orders and well wishes.

I went back to my holiday and I suffered each and every night in silence. Then when we went home I saw my Dr, who referred me to a specialist, but not before telling me to press pause on our baby making plans. Great. So I took myself off to see the specialist and was told there was only one option. To have the entire organ removed. I was booked in for surgery for a weeks time. 

Only, two days later, I ended up in the ER with a temperature of 41 degrees that I could not control with any amount of panadol. I had come down with full blown influenza. I had that temperature for 5 days. Panadol and nurofen would drop it to the lowest of 39. I was in agony. Surgery was delayed and I spent thee weeks trying to get myself better. All the while, having to still look after my 1 year old baby on my own. The hardest part of being a Mother sometimes, is not being able to crawl into bed and sleep your illness away. So I agonised through 5 days of the highest damn temperature I have ever experienced, while still putting on a smile for Evelyn.

Three weeks later, I was admitted to hospital and I had my first surgery (that my adult mind can remember). I dressed up in my OR night gown and cap, my super spunky stockings and slippers. I was wheeled through the hospital in a bed and straight into an operation room. With scrub nurses and surgical doctors and the man with the gas mask. Then I had an organ removed. Through my belly button, of all places. And that still freaks me out to this day.

I had an adverse reaction to the anaesthetic so I spent an extra night laid flat on my back and unable to get myself to the bathroom. Then I came home and Anthony went back to work. And I just had to get on with it. Four scars on my belly, a groggy mind, a sore body and a toddler to handle. Three days later I was to start my first day at work. Awesome for recovery time.

Once I recovered from surgery, I came down with Gastro. Badly. Then I came down with a cold. And I recovered, only to be hit by another cold. Since then I have had three more colds. All the while, I had a house to run, I had weekly house inspections to clean for, I had a child to look after (who fell sick just as often as I) and all I wanted to do was just crawl in between my bed sheets and curl up in a ball and wait this whole thing out.

But, that is not the life of a Mother. That is not the life of a Mother who has no support. You suck it up, you keep breathing, you suffer in silence and you just get on with it. Throughout these 6 months of illness I also lost my relationship with my Mother, my Aunty passed away, my best friends still remain overseas, the one girlfriend I thought I could rely and depend on was neither reliable or dependable and I really felt the sting of loneliness. 

This year, has been a year of illness and as the last traces of Winter fade and spring has begun to bring the warmth I am just praying and hoping and wishing that this is the last of our sickly, sniffly, snotty 2012 and now the fun times can begin.

We deserve it! Hell, if WE don't then I definitely do!

Sunday, 23 September 2012

The Bump ~ 15 Weeks

I am finding it hard to sit here and focus, I found it hard to actually do my hair and put on a dress and leave the house, I found it hard to find a smile and I found it hard to play with Evelyn. This week has been that kind of week and today has been the hardest day yet. For nine days now I have had a relentless and consistent head splitting migraine. I do not exaggerate when I say that I have not had even an hour of relief. These past two days it has been so bad that I cant actually speak properly. I try and words don't come, just noise. When I stand I experience the most intense stabbing pain in my left eye that I lose sight for moments, I go black, I feel dizzy, I am lucky if I don't fall over. Throughout my pregnancy with Evelyn I was consistently sick, at this point in time, I would prefer that. At least then I would throw up and then feel ok for a few hours.

Pregnancy is so hard on our bodies. So hard. My first pregnancy I had every symptom you wish you'd never get. But by the time Evelyn was born I had already forgotten. Thats the beauty of pregnancy. It doesn't last forever and each day that I wake from a very painful and restless sleep with my head still screaming at me, I remind myself, this wont be forever and this will be worth it. Because in 6 months time, I will be holding Jelly and I won't remember a thing. This is what is getting me through another day.

We had our booking in appointment at our hospital of choice on Monday. Lindy, our midwife, was wonderfully kind and gentle and the type of person you want to surround yourself with. The hospital is newly renovated and has only had 21 babies born there since reopening. It is also within walking distance from our home. The view from the room is our favourite beach or a golf course. It is peaceful and beautiful.

Anthony and I have discussed how we would like our birth to go this time around. Before I was ever pregnant I had always wanted to have a water birth. Throughout my pregnancy with Evelyn, I was somehow talked out of this. When I went into labour with Evelyn I didn't have with me a birth plan. I am the type of person who, once I have a plan, everything must go to plan. And so I didn't want to set myself up for more stress or any disappointment. However, this time, we have decided to have a plan. I will fight my hardest to have my water birth. And I will try again to have a drug free birth. With Evelyn I made it to 29 hours before needing an epidural. This time, I will try to make it to the 30th hour. I won't be disappointed if I have to rely on those drugs, but I will be disappointed if I don't at least try. 

Jelly, you have made this week a very hard week for your Mama to focus on anything other than her throbbing head. But even throughout that I have found my hands drifting down and holding you whilst day dreaming about the day I get to touch you and see your face. 

Its you and me babe, through the pain and through the glory, we will make it to the end!

Things to do and see in Fisherman's Beach
Tim Bailey - The weatherman, is more often than not, recording the weather on this beach!

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Love explosions

For the 6 months just past, I had been working from home for three days of every week. I was to fill 8 hours worth of work each Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And I was to complete those 8 hours worth of work within business hours as much as possible. In those 8 hours I was also to be a present, loving and doting Mama and a domesticated house wife in order to keep myself and Anthony and our home happy. I was to serve breakfast, lunch and dinner to a demanding Evelyn, as well as snacks, nappy changes, nap time and reading, play time. I was to prepare dinner for Anthony and I (I was however lucky enough that on most nights Anthony would cook the meal and do the post dinner clean up). In amongst all of this, I was to somehow feed myself, shower and clean myself, look after my health and somehow my happiness.

Each and every week, I didn't think I would survive another. But then the weekend would come, and I would relax, I would spend time with my family, I would find my happiness again and by Monday I would think, "I can do this". Until Friday arrived and I would consider my resignation, yet again. This became our normal, our awful, dreaded, weekly routined normal. But... somehow, I survived. I completed that 6 month contract. And, I actually got everything done. So much so that my last 2 weeks were spent asking for more work to do. 

I felt a sense of pride, going back to work and surviving it. Bringing in some much needed money all whilst still taking care of our Daughter. However, I feel so much guilt and I feel that both Evelyn and I were deprived of some very special times. We spent too much time indoors. I spent too much time being frustrated at her, for just... needing me. I felt angry with her for no reason other than she wanted a cuddle. I put that job before her. I let that job make me feel emotions towards her that I otherwise never would have felt!

So, since the day I handed in my computer and signed the end of my 6 month contract, three weeks ago, I have been creating a new normal, making sure I spend every day with Evelyn. Giving her my all. Giving her everything she wants from me, everything she needs. With each cuddle she requests, I open my arms and I embrace her. With each book she presents, I sit and read until she begs me to stop. With each cry or complaint or laugh she sounds, I run to her side and aid her request. 

Now that I am able to celebrate each and every moment of Evelyn, without other commitments intruding on our time, my heart has just exploded with love and my heart has also ached with a little despair. How much I missed out on, whilst staring at that computer screen. But how much I am now gaining. The bond between us has doubled in strength. My understanding of her and her language is now unbelievable. The fun we have, the wrestles, the reading, the airplanes, the cuddles, the kisses and most importantly the learning. Her learning new words, me learning her words. Her watching the world and me seeing it for all its glory through her eyes. She has so much to learn, and so much to teach me. 

Over the past week especially, there have been moments where she has melted my heart with her incredible love, so much so that I have cried. Such happy tears. Such love. Such fire I feel for her and her, obviously, for me. Each and every night Anthony does the "ni-night" routine by dressing her in her pajamas and giving her, her sleepy suit. She brings the suit to me and I lay it out on the ground where she promptly lays and patiently waits for me to zip her up. As I do so, Anthony prepares her night time bottle. She runs, from me to him, in her sleepy suit, yelling "bauble, bauble". Anthony takes her hand and asks, "Wheres Mr Rabbie?", and as her beloved Rabbie adventures all through out the day by her side, he could be most any where! We all spend the next 5 minutes searching for Rabbie and once he is found she squeals in the most divine show of delight there ever was. She and I say our good nights and give our cuddles,  Anthony starts to walk her up the hallway to bed. I shout out after her, "I love you", she turns, she runs to me, her lips puckered and her eyes swollen with pure love for her Mama, I take her wee little head between my hands and I give her the biggest, sloppiest, most loving kiss I can possibly muster. She looks at me and she nods and she turns and walks herself back to her Dadda and into her bedroom where they share secrets that only a Daddy and his girl will ever know. And in that moment I know that my world is right. 

And then I cry. 

Because I am living a life that even my dreams couldn't give me.

Monday, 17 September 2012

The Bump ~ 14 Weeks

This last week I put aside to let myself just sit and be. The week that was, was such a trialling week on my body and heart both physically and emotionally so I needed to take the time to rejuvenate and recharge so that I can tackle life with all my might moving forward. My body could not be any more grateful for the time out.

As my body recovered, Jelly's body thrived. On Saturday morning, we got to see our growing little bundle of baby, hear their heart beat and show Evelyn what her little baby actually looks like. Out of all the ultrasounds I have ever had, to see babies or just to see organs, it was by far the best and most exciting one of all. To have Evelyn there with me, holding my hand and pointing at her baby brother or sister whilst squealing. It was just the most heart melting and soul warming moment of little Jelly's little existence. It made me look forward and see what a beautiful little Sister my gorgeous little baby is going to make.

Evelyn has the kindest little heart, she walks gently on this earth. She watches the world go by with curiosity and she joins in with caution and care. She always stops a moment to touch and feel with the softest of hands and she looks on with the kindest most caring eyes, her Dadda's eyes. The eyes that I fell in love with. She is going to make such a beautiful sister. A soft, caring, protective Sister. The type of big Sister any young girl or boy would be more than lucky to have. The type of big Sister my little Jelly deserves. 

Seeing Jelly on that screen, with their little heart racing, their bones growing and their body forming gave me a little extra bonding juice. Gave me that little insight on who my Jelly is going to be, and he or she is going to be incredible. My children are going to change the world in ways that they will never know. My children have changed my world in a way I can never describe. My children, are wonderful and incredible and inspiring. 

With each day passed, and each day nearer I get to holding Jelly, my heart grows and swells just a little bit more. When I first fell pregnant with Jelly, I worried about how I could possibly ever love another child as much as I love Evelyn, but already, only 14 weeks in, I am beginning to see that I will just grow another heart. I will love this child as much as I love Evelyn and with every day that passes and every inch they grow, I will love them even more. How could I not? They are made with love, in the most purest form of love I can give from me to Anthony, they are us, they are our love, they are our gift. From each other, to each other and to the world.

Jelly, as you can tell, I could just not be anymore thrilled to be growing you. To be nourishing and nurturing you. To be loving and adoring you. You give me purpose and meaning and you will forever be my purpose and meaning. 

Its you and me babe, together we will change the world.

Things and Places to see - Freshwater (Harbord)
Pilu Restaurant - Chef hats by the sea! This italian restaurant is situated right on freshwater beach and is just divine! Anthony and I celebrated our first year anniversary here and had the most fantastic time, eating too much food and drinking too much wine. If you cant get the kids sat for a night, then go down by day to the kiosk which has a little tasting of what the restaurant is like. I recommend the suckling pig panini. 
The Hilton - Which is now known as "Harbord Beach Hotel" is a great little pub just up from the beach with an awesome menu. A little beer garden which is the perfect setting to walk off the beach into for an afternoon beer and some fish and chips.

Thursday, 13 September 2012

Dear Teenage Me

When I was a teenager, my outer appearance was that of happy and joyful, but deep inside I struggled. On some days, I just didn't want to be here. Some days the hurt and the pain and the rejection I was suffering became so overbearing and it would break me. Today, on 'R U OK?' day... I speak to teenage me.

Dear Teenage Me,

There's still a little bit of your ghost, in my heart. 

I walk this life every day as an adult, a grown woman, with responsibilities and dependant children. I walk this life trying to be as mature as I think I should be, as honest and as reliable as a woman, a Mother, should be. But some days, I still walk this life, as you. As that 15 year old careless and reckless, independent and strong, fearless and adventurous, child. Some days, I walk through this life, wishing I could be you. Sometimes, this life, it can climb up on top of you, constantly trying to knock you down. Most days, you push on through, but sometimes, some days, I just want to be you again. I want to be able to scream at this life and tell it, that it is too hard. I want to run the length of the beach, with the wind in my hair and tears in my eyes and I want to feel that freedom that you were forever chasing. I want to be you, so that I can tell you, stop chasing the freedom, because - you are free.

Some times, some weeks, like this week, they can become so overwhelmingly heavy. So emotionally draining. Through those weeks you need not fear what is to come, because what is to come is always a light at the end, a new corner to turn or a new window opened. You need not revert to your darkness, bury yourself in your sadness and your sorrow, because in the light of day, everything will be ok. On those nights, where you feel like there is no escape from the pain, no end in sight, on those nights, you need to know that with the break of day will come a wave of peace. You need not fear, because you will always the survive the demons of your nights.

You must learn to hold on tight to those who love you. You must learn not to isolate your self and wallow in your self pity and self hurt. You must learn to rely on people, to lean on them for support. You have to learn to trust in others. This life isn't made for you to live it alone. This life is for you to enjoy, for you to embrace it, with both arms. This life is here to warm your heart and carry your soul. Let it do these things for you. Let it give you what you so badly desire. There is still a little bit of your distrust, in my mind. I am still learning the lessons that we both so desperately need to learn. We need to open our hearts, open our lives. We need to understand that on those days, the ones where we are not ok, the ones where we don't believe there will be another day, there is always someone there cheering you on to make it through to the next. We need to learn that our heavy hearts are not to be carried on our own, they are to be shared. One day, you will find a man and friends, that will carry that heart for you on the days that you just cant do it anymore. And when you find that man and you find that friend, you need to let them carry that heart. Because you can't do it on your own. 

That freedom that you are searching for, you have it. You really do. Each day you run down that beach, with the sun shining on your back and the sand in between your toes and the water splashing your legs, its there with you. Each time you put your pen to paper and you write about how you feel, you tell you story, wether it be heard or wether it be stowed away for a raining day, you have it there with you. Each time you exercise your right to breathe, to live, to smile and to laugh, you are free. Stop fighting against it and just let it be. 

Your heart will be broken many times, but this is ok, because it teaches you how to love. Don't turn that heart ache into anger, let yourself be sad, you deserve to be. Move past the disappointment and move through the sadness and always open your heart up to new people and new opportunities. Let yourself be loved, believe that you are worthy, because honey you really are. Don't push people away. They are there with you because that is where they choose to be. If you do push them away, don't be suprised when they finally give in and leave you. You need to make a decision, you need to let them make a decision. You have to stop making people constantly try to prove to you that they care about you, that they love you. Just let them be. Be with you. Because you are worth their love and their time.

You will suffer many losses. Too many losses for a young girl. I have suffered too many losses for a young woman. They never get easier, they will always hurt, they will always knock you to your knees and the wind from beneath your wings. You need to accept that, you need to grieve their loss, accept it, and always fight to move forwards. Because those people whom you love so, those people whom you have lost and will continue to lose, want you to keep on living. They want you to live for you and live for them. Loss is a part of life, I am sorry that you have had so much of it at such a young age, but you will be ok. Each and every time, you will be ok. You will always be ok, because now you are guarded. Loved by some on this earth and loved by others on another. 

Take help where help is offered, stop living this life on your own. I cannot stress that enough. You so desperately want to not feel so alone, and yet you continue to revert into your own, you forget to reach out. I forget to reach out. Please, learn to ask for help, to talk to people, learn to force the issue if you are feeling unheard. You don't deserve to feel like you have no where to turn, because the reality is, you do have places to turn, you just don't ever see them. Learn!

Learn to care for yourself, for you heart and you soul. Learn how to treat them right. Learn how to make them happy and how to help them feel loved. This is your life sweetheart, if you want to live it then you must reach out and just do it!

Life isn't always as dark as your angsty teenage self views it. Life is actually some kind of wonderful. It is actually some kind of magic and if you don't leave you dark little corner then before you know it, you are going to miss out on it all!

Don't take life so seriously, or you will never make it out alive.

All my love,
Semi-Adult Me

Sunday, 9 September 2012

The Bump ~ 13 Weeks

How much has happened in just one week, I cannot even begin to describe. It has been a week of the highest, highs and the absolute lowest lows. I have not had time to stop and savour a single moment of being pregnant, not even today as we photographed my baby Jelly. My mind is captured by other events. 

In this last 7 days, I have packed up my baby girls room into boxes, removed the decals from her walls, tears falling down my cheeks as I packed away the very last bits of baby I had left of what is my now beautiful little toddler. She has growing up fast and the moments of being a baby are now just a mere memory held tight within my heart. But now, I am unpacking her things and her memories into her very own "big girl" room, with excitement in my heart. My baby, growing up. So sad, yet so beautiful. So conflicting within her poor Mama's mind.

We left the town of Newport, the town I thought would be our home for ever. The town in which the school I adore for Miss E and Jelly resides. The town which I fell in love with only two short years ago. And we moved into the town of Mona Vale, the town which actually became my home. The town in which my life is actually lived. The beach that we adore, the one in which we play and swim and surf and smile. The town in which baby Jelly will be born. The town with a new school that I am slowly falling in love with. Our new home. 

We heard of my Aunty's passing and have been slowly coming to terms with all that it entails. The mixed bag of emotions, the confusion and anger, the sadness and sorrow. We celebrated my Step Fathers 52nd birthday, while he watched from above, missing him and wishing him peace and happiness. A week of loss and sadness.

It has been such a trialling and emotional week, highs and lows, each next emotion conflicting with the last and with the next. And in amongst all this pain and sadness, grows a small beam of beauty and happiness, of hopes and dreams, of life. My Jelly, here to remind us all of the meaning of life, the circle of life. With each life lost, comes a new life that must be celebrated.

Jelly, my mind may have been distracted but my heart never drifted far from yours. We each beat in synchronicity. You rest your growing body within mine, and I'll rest my aching heart next to yours. This week you have been my wings, you loved me and lifted me up. For that, I will forever be yours.

You and me babe, its us against the world

Things and Places to see - Mona Vale
Flying Fox Cafe & Park - Gorgeous Cafe and kids park situated right on Winnererremy Bay. Have a coffee while looking out to the yachts moored in the blue waters of pittwater while your children entertain themselves in the park 
The Armchair Collective - One very funky and very cruisey little cafe, delicious food, the best milkshakes and it has bouquets of flowers to sell as well as home decorations, cook books, kitchen ware etc. However it is not children friendly, so only visit with your hubby or girlfriends
Apex Park - This is mine and Evelyn's absolute favourite park. Multiple stations for young and older children, right on the beach and a kiosk close by for that caffeine hit we Mamas so desperately need at times 
Little Paper Lane - You must not come to Mona Vale without visiting one of the most adorably beautiful little stationary shops you ever will see!