The Longest Move Ever

We are officially in our new home.

It's been a long and painful process.

One international move followed by 2 months living in a temp apartment. Then a second move into this beautiful house. It really is a beautiful house, though at the moment it's a total wreck.

The move had it's hitches of course. There were the painters who took longer than promised so they were there on move in day,,,, that's always fun. There were the world's laziest movers who didn't want to have to put our beds together. They even went to far as to complain they didn't have tools.... so after hubby went off on them they drove to Home Depot to get some. Beds got put together but I'm still turning around all the knobs and have a small TV stand to assemble. All this with a full service move?

There was the satellite TV installer who came just before the rainstorm on Friday afternoon so we have no TV. Not a huge problem since we have so much unpacking to do but still a hitch. Oh, and the internet isn't working either. No idea why because usually self-install is a breeze. This time though I had to call repair and they couldn't set it up remotely either so a tech should be on the way today to fix it. Ah, the joys of moving.

Oh, and there's the whole, "I'm 34 weeks pregnant" thing which means I'm pretty much useless when it comes to helping like I want to. Though that didn't stop me from putting the drawers and shelves back into the huge Ikea wardrobes that the movers refused to do. The Hubby was  not pleased with me for doing that one, but he's not exactly handy so if I didn't do it it wouldn't' get done.

I am doing my best to help unpack boxes but it's not easy when bending down to the ground and getting back up again is such a struggle. I'm sore and tired and have to work in short bursts before stopping to take breaks. As a result, the  majority of the work falls to The Hubby and I am feeling very very guilty. He is tired and sore and there is still lots left to do.

Have I mentioned that we are not done with this move just yet? Oh no.

You see, once upon a time we lived in California in a house. That house had lots of stuff in it. Too much stuff to take to London with us. That stuff has been sitting in storage for the past 8 and a half years. That stuff is on it's way to Florida and will arrive on Wednesday. So we get to do this whole lovely process all over again. Lovely.


Frostina is in heaven though. It's like Christmas morning for her. Every box I unpack that has her stuff is greeted with oohs and aahhs. She was so happy when she saw her bed she wanted to get in it immediately. In fact, this was the first time ever that she spent the night in a new place in her own bed. Normally it takes a couple of days sleeping with us for her to adjust to a new room.

I am so ready to be settled in, this move feels like it's taking forever..... and I have a baby due in a few weeks. Yikes!

Coming Up For Air

I am deep in moving hell but I wanted to come up for air to give a quick update on what's going on. There are immigration forms to fill out, insurance forms to fill out, customs forms to fill out. I think you get the idea here. Lots and lots of forms. Plus there's the whole, "Nothing electrical will work back in the US so you have to sell it all or give it away before you move," thing. Will someone please buy my tumble dryer???

In the midst of all this, I had my anomaly scan yesterday. I hardly had time to be worried about it with everything else going on. Thankfully, all is well with Baby Olea. There she was, moving and kicking around while the doctor tried to capture all the important data via ultrasound. She was of course shy about showing her face so we didn't get great photos, but really all that matters is that she is ok.

We took Frostina with us and she kept wanting to be up on the table with Mommy. The Hubby tried bribing her with food which worked for a while but she got bored staring at her little sister on the TV screen. I forgot that these scans take longer and I think she did a pretty good job overall.

The big move happens next week. By next Friday we will be in Florida in our temporary apartment. It's surreal to think about. I still haven't had time to properly process this. I'm too busy trying to find a new OB and pediatrician for Frostina. This is tricky since we don't really know where we will be living permanently. But I've got to find someone for both of us pretty quickly.

A few friends have offered to throw leaving parties for us. Or, "Leaving Do," as they call them here in England. I'm sure that's when it will hit me that we are actually leaving.

Wow, we are actually leaving.

My "Moving Wife"

Moving is never fun, that's for sure. Moving countries is even more difficult. The nice thing about a corporate move is that there is a whole team dedicated to helping it run smoothly. Once the company flips the switch a hoard of people come out of the woodwork. We have a single point of contact who is at the center of this massive operation. She is like having a wife who specializes in moving. *Side note- I think I would like a wife all the time, it's pretty great.

My "Moving Wife" has really gotten the ball rolling. She has already arranged for the movers and for the relocation agent in Florida. She has contacted and arranged for our temporary housing which is a furnished corporate apartment. She has gotten in touch with the mortgage company we will be working with. She has even arranged for us to have help with disconnecting all our utilities and organizing the final move out cleaning.

My phone has been ringing with all these people contacting me. Dates have been set up and appointments have been made. We now have our move out date (the end of March... Yikes!) and a move in date (well to our temporary house anyway). Our relocation agent has been emailing us properties in the towns we think we want to move to. We have had a call with our mortgage company and are working on getting pre-approved.

All this has been done by my "Moving Wife" in the past 5 days. Amazing!!

Now if only she would come and clear out the clutter that overflows in our house. Then she would be perfect. 

No Shoveling Snow For Me

I was sure I had cursed myself in my last post when I said I didn't want to live anywhere I had to shovel snow. Thankfully I was wrong. I was very, very wrong.

Where will our new home be?

Florida!

That's right. The Hubby's new office will be in Ft. Lauderdale so we will be looking to move somewhere nearby. So no snow for us! Though we will have to deal with humidity and frizzy hair which is never nice.

It's a huge change for this California native who has just spent almost 10 years in London. After all this time in England I have almost forgotten what a warm summer feels like. So I'm sure the first summer of humidity and bugs (yuck) will be a rude awakening. On the bright side, (see what I did there?) we won't have to take our vitamin D supplements anymore.

So now I'm scouring the good schools website to try and figure out where we should live. I haven't even begun to think about doctors and hospitals yet, but that's next on the list.

We don't have a time line just yet but things will happen quickly so it looks like I'm in for a wild ride.

Anyone familiar with the Ft. Lauderdale area? Any advice on schools and neighbourhoods and doctors and hospitals would be greatly appreciated. 

Life Is Never Boring

Just when you get all settled and comfortable, BANG, something else happens. At least that's how things seem to go for me.

The hubby and I have been living in London for quite a long time now. We have done the travelling in Europe thing and have very much enjoyed the opportunity to live in a different country and appreciate a different culture and way of life. London is very much our home. We have built a life here, had two children here, and have another one on the way.

We have been talking for the past 6 months or so about being ready to move back to the USA. Since having Frostina, and the death of The Hubby's Dad, we are really feeling the pull back home. Our parents aren't getting any younger and we want Frostina to grow up being at least a bit closer to her family. The Hubby had a conversation with his HR department sharing our wish to go home a while back and left it at that.

We were then asked if we would agree to stay here at least one more year due to staffing issues and them not having a back up for him. We said yes which I figured worked out well with Baby Olea on the way. So I got pregnant and have been back with my doctor who I respect and trust. All was on schedule to have Baby Olea here in London and then we would plan to move back sometime in 2015.

BANG!

That's what you get when you make plans.

A few weeks ago The Hubby started hearing rumours that things were happening in the US division of his company. Rumours that included the fact that phone calls had been made asking about our availability to move sooner. Then he got a call asking very specifically about my pregnancy and when my due date was. We were also asked if there was a time line in which we would not be able to move. Our reply was that obviously there would be a few months immediately before my due date and afterwards when we would need to stay put here. Basically we told them that we could move now, or sometime in the Fall.

The Hubby is at a meeting this week for the whole company. I have now received two phone calls from him telling me that things are indeed going on with the US division and that it's looking very likely that he will be getting some kind of job offer. His company moves quickly once they make decisions like this so I'm expecting we will know more by the end of the week. But it looks like we will be making a move back to the USA.

Where exactly in the US is a different question. America is a pretty large country and at the moment we have no clue where the openings will be. Nor do we know if it would be a lateral move or a promotion. So needless to say I'm freaking out.

Yes, I am ready to be back on American soil. But there are definitely parts of the US that I would rather not live. I fear listing any of them here because then I know I will be sealing my fate and end up moving there. So I'll just say that I would prefer to be in a part of the country that is filled with open-minded people who have not allowed doctrine and scare mongering to rule their lives and decisions.

I would also prefer to live somewhere with decent weather. This California girl has been spoiled for most of her life as far as weather goes and the idea of shovelling snow in minus 10 wind chill doesn't really appeal. **There I go, cursing myself to a life somewhere in America where it snows. Sadly, the chances of us returning to California are slim so I'm certainly not getting my hopes up about that.

I'm left here wondering where life will take us next. It's stressful and sort of exciting, but sort of not because I hate having decisions made for me. Unless where they want us to move is absolutely awful, saying no may or may not be an option.

I am freaking out!

I can truthfully say that my life is never boring.

Catching Up

Wow, has it really been over a month since my last post?

I don't know how I got out of the habit, but I'm hoping to get better at fitting this space into my week. I do miss the writing and the reading. I have been going through my reader and I feel so out of touch with everyone.

So apologies for not writing and not reading or commenting either. The adjustment to Motherhood is still a huge one for me and it's clear that I haven't quite found my balancing point just yet.

So here's a bit of a catch up. The visit home was amazing. Frostina did so well on the flight which was a huge relief! It's an 11 hour flight from London to Los Angeles and I had visions of walking a crying baby up and down the aisles the entire time. But we got lucky and she was a trooper. Much to the relief of myself as well as all the other passengers.

She adjusted to the time difference in one day!! That part was also amazing!!!

She was so cute and adorable with all the family. As I've written about here before, she's very particular about who she will smile at. So I was worried that she would be timid around our family.

Turns out I worried for nothing. She took one look at my Mom and flashed her a huge smile...... soooooo cute! She was great with everyone and let everyone hold her. She smiled and made all her cute faces and noises for everyone. She was the belle of the ball and everyone loved her.

It was a wonderful visit but at the end of the two weeks we were ready to come home. I'd love to say that Frostina adjusted back to UK time as quickly as she did to California time. However, her adjustment back was not as easy. It's taken her almost two weeks to be back to normal.

I think part of the issue may be due to teething. We don't have any teeth just yet but she's been waking up crying in the night and won't go back to sleep until I give her some Calpol (baby tylenol for my US friends). Her cheeks also get really red sometimes, red like an apple. And I won't even go into the drool that is coming out of this kid,,, let's just say it's flowing freely. So I expect to see some teeth very soon.

Some other fun things.

• We started solid foods this week.
• She no longer hates tummy time.
• She can sit up for short periods of time before she finally tips over.
• She has discovered her laugh.

Oh, and she loves ceiling fans.....

We don't have any of these at home but she discovered this one at a hotel while we were back in the US and was absolutely fascinated.

Other than that we're just getting ready for Christmas. Our first with Frostina and our third without our son. It's bittersweet for sure and not something I want to get into today. Today is just a day to catch up.

So what have you been up to?

I'm Finally Packing For Three

It feels like my blogging life has come full circle.

Or it's about to.

Where it all started,,, it's about to return,,, but with a much happier result this time.

It's surreal on many levels.

I almost can't believe it's actually happening.

If you would have told the me of 2 years ago that this day would come I'm not sure I would have believed you.

And yet here it is.

We are planning a trip home to see the family. We leave in a couple of weeks and I've got so much planning and packing to do.

A trip we do and prepare for every year.

But this year we are actually bringing a living, breathing baby with us.

No ashes in an urn.

A real living baby.

A real living baby!!!

We get to do all the things we had planned before....

A christening.

Family photos.

Sharing our joy with our loved ones.

Such a different place from where this whole blogging journey began.

That day, almost two years ago, when I wrote this post and Finding My New Normal was born.

Friday, 5 November 2010

I should be packing right now.

I really should be packing. We are flying home to see the family for the first time since losing our son in August. This was going to be the first visit home for him to meet his grandparents and extended family. But instead of bringing home a happy baby, we are bringing home his ashes in a tiny plastic urn. Instead of being held by his loving parents, his ashes will be scattered in a beautiful place that we both love. It is not fair and I do not want to have to be doing any of this. So this is why I am not packing yet. Because once I start packing I have to face the reality that I am only packing for 2 and not for 3.



A post about packing for a trip home is where it all began.

And today I once again write about packing for a trip home.

But today things are very different than they were that dark and sad day in November of 2010.

This time around I'm finally packing for three!!!

Two For The Price Of One- The Mother's Day Special

When you move to a new country you probably don't think much about public holidays. I know I didn't when I first moved here to England. After all, they're part of the culture of your new found homeland. They are a celebration, and everyone loves a celebration,,, right? Well, not always as I have learned.

You see, while Father's Day is the same in the UK and in the US, Mother's Day is not. So I have not one, but two Mother's Days to get through. A bit like those special buy one get one free offers you see in the shops. Normally I love those things, but not so much this time.

Why am I even talking about this? Well because today it's Mother's Day in the UK.

It's such a bittersweet day for me.

• Two years ago I was happily pregnant with my Son. My head was filled with the dreams of all the Mother's Days we would spend together. 
• Last year I spent the day without him in my arms. It was not at all the day I had imagined a year before. 
• This year I am pregnant again, and yet still grieving my son. My head is filled both with the dreams of all the Mother's Days I will (hopefully) spend with Frostina, and all the sadness of the ones I won't be spending with my Son.

The Hubby has an interesting strategy for dealing with the whole two for the price of one Mother's Day dilemma. He insists that today isn't the real day because we're from America. Since US Mother's Day is in May, that's when we should be celebrating (or not celebrating) it. I don't know if this will really work for him, but I know it doesn't fly with me. After six years of living over here, I'm pretty immersed in the British culture, public holidays and all.

Today I will lay low and probably not leave the house. Thus reducing the chances that I will run into all the happy Mothers spending the day with their living children. I'm not sure I'm ready for all that just yet. Part of me thinks that being pregnant again should make this day easier. The other part of me realizes that it probably won't. So I won't be taking any chances.

I'll just hunker down and wait for this day to be over. And then, lucky me, I get to do it all over again in May. Ahhh, the fabulous life of an expat! 

To all the British Baby Loss Mums out there, I wish you a gentle Mother's Day. I'd like to think that our babies are smiling down on us from above.

Photo courtesy of CarlyMarie

Oh Great, She Brought Her Baby

Disclaimer- This post will probably come across as very self centered. I don't usually live in that all about me place, but today I am. As a Baby Loss Mom I reserve the right to act and feel things in a very selfish way sometimes. I don't actually admit my true feelings to anyone but The Hubby and all of you, so hopefully no one in my real life knows just what a self centered bitch I can be. End of disclaimer.

As I've mentioned before, I'm an American Expat living in England. When I first moved here I joined a club for other expat women (from all over the world, not just the US). The women I have met through this club have been my lifeline and I know for sure that I wouldn't have gotten through the loss of my son without them.

Because I can never do anything half-assed, I am of course on the board of this club. Our board meets monthly to talk about what's going on and to make decisions that affect the membership. These meetings are very casual affairs held in the mornings and young children are welcome. So there are usually a few toddlers there running around while we all chat.

One of the members of the board just gave birth to her son a few weeks ago. I've written about her a few times before, most recently when I was invited to her baby shower. You can read a bit about her if you like by following this link but it's not really vital to today's story. But if you're a new reader and want a bit of background then there you go.

Having just given birth a few weeks ago I figured she would take a pass on the next few meetings. I mean, who wants to bring their newborn into a room with so many women and possibly toddlers?? Talk about a germ-a-palooza. So I figured it would be a few months before I had to endure her waltzing into the room with her brand new baby boy.

Wrong!

I found out the night before the meeting that she was coming so at least I wasn't totally surprised. But that wasn't really much time to prepare myself. I have done a good job of avoiding all newborn babies since my son died, especially baby boys. I just can't be around them because they are the physical manifestation of what I lost. My newborn son who will never grow into a toddler, or a boy, or a man. Just writing that brings tears to my eyes.

So I was hoping that she wouldn't come for a few more months, until hopefully I will have my own newborn baby. I keep thinking that once I have a real life living newborn then seeing other newborns won't hurt so much. Once I have my own newborn then seeing other newborns won't feel like a stab in the heart. Because right now, even the thought of being around a newborn baby makes me anxious, and nervous, and stressed.

I had a hard time sleeping the night before the meeting. I could feel the anxiety running rampant in my body. How was I going to handle seeing a newborn baby boy? Would I burst into tears? Would I be able to look at him? What should I say? How should I act? Would everyone in the room be able to see my discomfort and sadness? How on earth would I be able to cope?

I seriously considered not going. It's something I thought about all night and while I was getting ready the next morning. I could just not go, that way I wouldn't have to deal with the situation. Such a tempting idea,,, and yet it felt wrong. I won't be able to hide from newborn babies forever so maybe this was the time to test myself. In the end I decided to suck it up and just go.

So I get to the meeting and a few minutes later she strolls in, pushing her tiny newborn son in his buggy. My stomach dropped but I kept a smile on my face. I welcomed her and made some comment about being impressed she was out of the house and back in action so soon. I'm sure she didn't get the subtext that I was actually horrified that she was at the meeting. I don't think anyone else did either.

Of course everyone swooned over her new baby. So I figured I was off the hook because she would be so distracted with all the attention that she wouldn't notice that I was pretty much ignoring her and her baby. I figured that once the meeting got started I could focus on what we were talking about and pretty much forget that there was a newborn boy in the room.

Wrong again!

She ended up sitting right next to me. A situation I managed to wiggle out of by offering my seat to someone who had to leave early and needed to be closer to the door. I was feeling quite smug about now having a buffer sitting in between us. But alas, my smugness was short lived.

Wouldn't you know? This woman sitting between us wanted to hold the baby! Not just hold him for a few minutes, but hold him for most of the meeting. When he got hungry she also wanted to feed him. I figured he would be taken out of the room to be breastfed but his ever-so-prepared Mom had pumped a bottle for just this occasion. So now I'm sitting next to the woman who is feeding this baby, and burping him, and settling him back to sleep.

I wanted to die. Or leave the room. Or burst into tears. Or just sit somewhere else. I wanted to be anywhere besides where I was.

But the meeting was underway and I was stuck. So I did my best to focus my attention to the topics at hand. I actively participated in the discussion,,, anything to keep my focus off the newborn baby sitting inches away from me. I am amazed at how I held it together. I didn't cry or even tear up. I don't think anyone even noticed my discomfort. I was a total fake and I think people bought it.

On the outside I was the perfect face of happiness, on the inside I was crumbling into a million little pieces. Why did she have to bring her baby? Why couldn't she just have stayed away for a few more months. Doesn't she realize that the presence of her perfect, living baby boy is like torture to me? 
 *See I told you I was going to a very selfish, all about me place!

Somehow I managed to get through it. I'd like to think that my son was sending me strength from above. Or maybe I'm just getting better at faking it these days. Either way, I made it to the end of the meeting without the humiliation of bursting into tears. After it was over, I treated myself with a nice lunch at a very posh and grown up restaurant and did a bit of shopping. A reward for holding it together.


So there you go. A totally selfish, all about me post. I know there are other perspectives to see this situation from, but at the moment I can only see mine. And for now, I'm OK with that.

Pouring my heart out with Shell.

Unwinding

Christmas is over, the new year is here, and my house is once again free of visitors. I can feel my body slowly unwinding from all the activity and family time. It would unwind much more quickly with a nice glass of wine,,,, but alas, this pregnant lady is off the booze.

I'm a bundle of extra energy right now. Wanting to get the house back to normal. Washing all the sheets and towels. Taking down the Christmas tree. I know it will take me days to fully relax. I'm like this after all our family visits.

Having family come to visit is always wonderful. Having family come to visit is also always a bit stressful. Part of it is of course the fact that we live across the pond from our family so when they do come it's for a longer period of time. My parents can't exactly pop in for the weekend since it takes them 11 hours on a plane to get here. So when visitors come it's generally for 2 or 3 weeks at a time. That can be a LOT of family time... if you know what I mean.

Brussels at Christmas

I'm not complaining this time around though. After spending last Christmas on our own, buried in our own grief, it was nice to have a house full of happy people this year. We even invited another couple over for Christmas dinner. I cooked a turkey and all the fixings, poured lots of wine, and played a bunch of silly party games. All in all, it was a great night. I took my parents around London and we even took the Eurostar over to Brussels for a quick visit. It was very nice to see them, but I'm exhausted.

I actually felt a bit sorry for them this trip. My nausea and exhaustion kicked in on several days so we had to cancel plans. In addition, The Hubby got a terrible cold and was out of commission for almost a week. So basically they had "The Preggo" and "The Sickie" as hosts. It resulted in a few more days at home than I think they might have liked. Although they are so excited that I'm pregnant again that I think they will forgive me.

I don't feel guilty for enjoying myself a bit this year. In the year and four months since our son died we have grieved him almost continuously. At some point that grief gets softer around the edges. Somehow we find a way to be able to feel joy and happiness again. I am grateful for the happiness. Because it cuts through the pain of grief. I am grateful that we were able to have a Happy Christmas this year. Perhaps it will be the first of many more to come.

But for now it's back to reality. I've got sheets to wash, Christmas decorations to put away, and some serious unwinding to do.

The Elephant In The Room

It's so nice when all my friends come back from their summer holidays. Life as an expat reminds me very much of my college/university days in that respect. Some people go back home for the summer and others stay around but travel quite a bit. So it's hard to connect with people because you never know who's in town. But once September rolls around everyone comes back and it's time to reconnect.

It's a bit strange to see everyone again.

• To see who got a great summer tan. 
• To see who got a new haircut. 
• To see all the cute new clothes someone bought back in the US. 
• To see who is now pregnant. Ugh!

New pregnancies are super exciting, but for me this type of conversation is soooooo painful. I smile and nod and ask all the right questions, but inside I just wish we could change the subject.

It's harder because I haven't told many people that we are trying for another baby. Only a handful of people know and I'd rather keep it that way for now. So this makes these conversations even harder for me because when people ask what I'm up to I have to partially lie and say not much. If only they knew. But I don't want them to know and so I feel like I'm hiding something. I hate feeling like that.

It's a bit easier for me to hide our efforts because NO ONE asks. Don't get me wrong, they want to know. I know this because my close friends tell me that they get asked all the time if I'm going to try again. I'm actually surprised sometimes to learn who is making these enquiries. It's not always the people I would expect.

But no one would dare ask me.

 Because I'm the woman whose baby died.

And you don't dare ask her things like that because you may make her cry. 

 
So at least I don't have to lie directly.

But it makes me feel uncomfortable sometimes.

• Because I can see the question in their eyes. 
• It's on the tip of their tongues. 
• If only they had the nerve to ask it. 
• If only they could figure out a way to make the question seem casual. 
• If only they could bring up something that would make me start talking about it.
• But they don't. 
• They never do. 

Instead I see them struggling to find something else to talk to me about. When all the while they are just hoping that I bring it up. It's the big elephant in the room. And since I'm not talking about it, they aren't either.

I hate that feeling.

The One Where I End A Friendship?

Life as an expat has isn't always easy. You move far away from family and friends. You have to learn a new culture and in some cases a new language. You are desperate for any connection to home. As a result, in most countries, the expat community is a very close knit one. Bonds are formed fast and quick.

Oh, you're from my country?? Oh, you like drinking wine? Oh, you are free for lunch on Tuesday?? All these things can be the basis for the beginning of a friendship. Expats are like college freshmen, searching for new connections far from home. We cling to each other like long lost family members. Any connection, no matter how slim, warrants invitations and hopes for the future.

We are all lost souls looking for connection, and we cling to each other. We form friends in fast-forward. Skipping the normal getting to know you process and vetting by other friends. After all, most of us have no other local friends. We need each other in a way that no one else can understand unless they have been a foreigner in a strange land.

As a result an acquaintance can quickly rise up the ranks to become your BFF. You form an intense intimacy that doesn't exist in many places beyond college and summer camp.

At first it feels great. You are welcomed to your new community with gusto. You get invited to parties and lunches. You feel like people want to get to know you. You form fast connections and feel much less homesick.

But what happens after the flush of new friendship wears off? What happens when you really get to know your new friends? What if you decide that you don't really like them after all? What do you do then?

That my friends in bloggyland is the dilemma I am currently facing. I have been an expat for almost 6 years now and have seen many new friends come and go. I am familiar with the idea that as an expat you are constantly making new friends to replace the ones who move away. But in all my years I've not been in the situation I find myself in now.

How do I extricate myself from a friendship that I no longer want to be in? I recently told you all about this person. Probably not everything, but if you read my previous post you will get an idea of what I'm talking about.

I made friends with this person shortly after finding out I was pregnant with my son. She was there through it all, and now she has let me down. Not just in the ways I've written about, but in other ways as well. Not being kind to people I consider friends. Not being the kind of person I thought she was.

I don't think I want to be friends with her anymore. But it's complicated by the fact that we're part of a very small community. A community that talks and gossips.

I hate drama. The last thing I need is for her to go around telling people that I cut her off because I couldn't handle that she was pregnant. That has nothing to do with it. Sure, the timing is bad,,,,, but the truth is that this was coming long before she shared her news with me. But to end the friendship now, I just know she would think it was due to her pregnancy.

I know, I know,,,, you will tell me that I should have an honest conversation with her and tell her how I feel. Trust me, if I thought that she would listen or be even the slightest bit receptive I would give it a shot. But I know her... she's very defensive and does not respond well to criticism.

In no time flat my feelings would get twisted in a way to make her the victim and me the crazy lady whose baby died and can't be happy for anyone else. This is not what I want. So I've got some decisions to make.

How to extricate myself without causing unnecessary drama?? Is that even possible?? Ugh,,,, It's too much to even think about right now. 

Thanks for listening.

Guest Post Swap

Today I'm taking a break from my normal blogging to participate in something much more light hearted and fun. The lovely ladies over at BritMums have put together a guest post swap and I decided to take part. They have matched me with Erin from American Mom in England. So today she will be blogging here, and I will be blogging over there.

Hello, all! I’m Erin from American Mom in England and I’m going to sharing some of my experiences as an expat with you today.

Both Finding My New Normal and I signed up for a blog post swap through BritMums and amazingly we were matched up. I’m still slightly in shock that two Americans managed to be paired together. Needless to say as I share my experience living in England with you all here, Finding My New Normal will be sharing some of hers over on my blog.

I know the title of this blog wasn’t designed to apply to expat life, but in so many ways it does.

I’m American, my husband is British and our son is both. We met in the US. We got married in the US. We had our son in the US. Then when he was six months old we brought him over to England for Christmas to meet his British relatives. My husband who is a college lecturer applied for a couple of jobs while we were here for the holidays. He got one of them and shortly after the New Year I found myself flying back with just my son for company.

Next begin the UK spousal visa process and tying up loose ends. On March 28, 2007 we arrived back in the UK as residents. Initially it was a rather steep learning curve. We stayed with my husband’s parents while we searched for a house to buy. I met the local health visitor and a couple of other local Mums, but the differences were just too much to handle. Relatively new baby and new country did not mix well. I suspect it would have been different if the boy had been born over here, but I’ll never really know.

On May 13, 2007 the boy and I flew back to the US to stay with my parents. Although we had found a house to buy in the UK, the chain of buyers and sellers was hung up and not moving. I was having a very hard time coping and flying ‘home’ to Oregon seemed like the best option. The year that followed was rough. Hubby visited us as often as he could, but it’s not the same. My parents loved having us stay with them, but after awhile that started to become difficult as well. Sometime during the next couple of months we made the decision not to buy the little house we’d been waiting on.

Almost one year after we left the UK we arrived back again ready to have a second attempt at life on this side of the Atlantic. While staying with Hubby’s parents from May until we finally found a house to rent in October wasn’t easy, it was okay. We were all together and that was the most important thing. Thankfully we stuck it out and I’ve gradually found my footing here. I learned how to get around and where to buy this or that. I helped run a Netmums meetups group for local Mums. I began to feel a little more at ease.

About the time we moved into the little terraced house we rented, the property market in the UK began its downward spiral. In some ways we are very lucky we didn’t buy the little house we’d originally had our eye on. We eventually found a rather spacious 4 bedroom semi-detached house that’s now our home. I think we’re much happier having an office, a music room, a guest bedroom and a huge back garden (backyard) than we would have been in the other little house.

I gradually learned what normal was with regards to children in the UK. Nursery or Pre-School at 3, all day Reception class at 4, Year one at 5. In many ways this knowledge only illustrated how my little one is not like the typical British child. He’s just finished his year in Reception and he reads 4 to 5 years above his age. He’s on the gifted and talented register for reading/phonics, mathematics (I still can’t call it Maths without cringing) and his artwork. We’ve raised a capable independent little 5 year-old, which makes me proud as a parent who struggled living in this country when he was young.

This past year our life changed a bit more. We’ve lived here long enough that I was finally able to go to university here and pay the (much lower) home student fees. Last October I began studying Chemical Engineering at the University of Birmingham. I think being a student again at this stage in my life would be a little difficult in either country. I know my course mates had a hard time accepting that a) I had a husband and a little boy and b) that I wasn’t their age. I suppose though, that at 18 I would have had a hard time relating to someone 11 years older than me too.

Anyways, if you ever have the chance to live abroad take it! (As long as you don’t have a child less than a year old – which makes it very, very challenging.) I’ve discovered things about myself that I never would have learned had we stayed in the US. Even though we tentatively plan on returning stateside once our son finishes primary school, part of me is beginning to believe that we’ll be too settled here by then to pick up and leave.

If you’d like to read about more of my life as an American Mom in England feel free to stop by my blog. (It’s where you’ll find Finding My New Normal’s expat story!) You can also contact me on twitter: @silentbeauty! I hope you all have a lovely Friday!

Traveling With Needles

I woke up feeling achy today. Like that feeling you get when you have a fever. I think it may be the lupron finally kicking in. Still no crazy to speak of,,,, but the hubby is home now so he may have a different opinion on that : ) .

Speaking of the hubby, he's back from his whirlwind series of business trips. Yay!! Even better, he is on vacation for the next two weeks! That's right boys and girls, I said two weeks. One of the things we love the most about living here in England is that taking two weeks off is considered pretty standard. Employers do not "frown upon" it as most people do it. It's normal here. I'm sure all my fellow Americans will be able to relate to how awesome this is since back in the US you get one week and that's it. If you want to take two together you usually have to have a really good reason and get special approval.

I'm not sure the hubby has kicked into "vacation mode" just yet. He didn't get home until yesterday afternoon and even this morning he still seems quiet and a bit on edge. But I give it another day or two and then I will have my happy, smiley, vacation hubby! I really like that guy!!

We will be staying here for a few days so the hubby can get into full vacation mode and then we're off to Spain! Woo Hoo!! I am soooooo looking forward to it. This will not be our usual sightseeing and tours kind of holiday though. We've booked a place where we can sleep late, lay by the pool, and get spa treatments. This is definitely a lazy holiday. Just what the doctor ordered.

Speaking of doctors, I must remember to bring my prescription that says I can travel with needles and medications. That's right,,,, in addition to all the relaxing and massages I still have to inject myself. I don't get a vacation from IVF. But no complaints, I think a relaxing week away will put me in the right frame of mind for the embryo transfer. Plus I will be doing my injections in the comfort of a 5-star resort in Spain!

*I just re-read and noticed that I used the terms vacation and holiday interchangeably. Hilarious!! One of the side effects of having lived here in the UK for almost six years is that I often mix up UK and US terminology. I have gotten to the point where I forget which is which sometimes. I'm sure my fellow expats can relate to this!

The Kindness of Acquaintances

There is much talk about the kindness of close friends. There is also much talk about the kindness of strangers. But what about the kindness of those people who exist in between? Those people who we know and see, but not very well. People we would call acquaintances?

This post is about exactly that. It's about someone who caught me by surprise. Someone who I wouldn't expect to be thinking about me. But she was.

As I have mentioned before, I belong to an expat women's club. The women I have met through this club have been my lifeline,,,, both before and (especially) after losing my son last August. In a huge city like London, this club has brought me a sense of community and security. 

I went to our club's monthly wine tasting event. As it's a recurring event, I know all the women there. But not all of them are what I would consider my close friends. Tonight I sat next to the woman who organizes the event. Although I don't know her well, I met her when I was pregnant with my son and she is aware of what happened.

"I've been thinking about you a lot lately, " she says, "I was wondering how your Mother's day was?"

Wow!!!

Did she really just ask me that?? In person and everything???

"Not great," I say, "It was pretty rough, but I managed my way through it." I told her. I shared her about how difficult every holiday has been since losing my son. I talked about how Easter had snuck up on me and how much it sucked to have to deal with two Mother's days. 

She squeezed my hand and told me how sorry she was for my loss.

I was so touched. I mean, I don't see her every day, and I certainly don't share my grief with her. But she still thought about me that day. And she thought about me enough to ask me about it tonight.

I was overcome with gratitude. I thanked her for asking (as I tried desperately not to cry). I shared with her my sadness that more people don't ask me about my loss. They are afraid to hurt my feelings, when in truth my feelings are already crushed in a million pieces and no question asked by a caring friend is going to make things any worse.

Again, she squeezed my hand and told me that she was there for me if I ever wanted to talk. It made me feel so good, and so loved,,,,, by someone I hardly know.

It reminded me that people do still care. They do still think about my loss. Even when it seems that the whole world had moved on. It hasn't. It's just that most people don't want to mention it anymore. They are afraid to remind me of what I have lost. But not everyone. There are still a few people who are willing to reach out.

It was a great night. A night when I learned to appreciate the kindness of acquaintances.

So for those of you who are reading this who know someone who has suffered a loss..... please don't be afraid to let them know you are thinking about them. It will make their day,,,,, I promise!

The One Where I Lie to My Friends

I have a confession to make,,,, a friend is moving back to the US and even though I pretend to be sad about it, I am actually happy she's going!

I feel terrible for feeling this way, but I can't help myself. It's amazingly selfish and if any of my friends in real life knew they would be very upset with me. They would be horrified that I could think such a horrible thing about someone I call my friend. It would probably change their view of me completely. So I hide it. I keep it to myself and pray that no one discovers my dark secret.

So what is this friend's crime?? What has she done to make me so happy that she's moving so far away?

Three words

HER BABY LIVED

Yes, it's a simple as that. We were pregnant at the same time. Our due dates were a month apart. We had all these plans about our babies being friends. She was having a girl and I was having a boy and we joked about them being boyfriend and girlfriend. We were going to join the same playgroup. We were on the same path.

Until that horrible day.

"There's no heartbeat." 

Those words uttered at my 36 week growth scan changed everything for the hubby and me. 

But not for her. Her baby girl lived, and is here,,, on this earth,,, in her arms. While my son looks down on me from heaven.

I can only hold him in my heart.

She and her daughter are walking reminders of what I have lost. In fact, in the 9 months since my son died (yes, it's been 9 months now) I have yet to meet her daughter. I can't meet her daughter. In fact, we had a near miss a few weeks ago and it nearly sent me into a crying frenzy.

So I pretend...
That I will miss her.
That I'm sad to see her go.
That our group of friends will never be the same without her.
When really, I can't wait for her to be gone.

So that I don't have to see the awkward looks on people's faces when they are in the same room with the two of us. Knowing the struggle they are going through.

• Dying to ask her about her baby, but not wanting to hurt my feelings.
• Wanting to invite people over but knowing she may not have a babysitter and knowing that I can't be in the same room as her daughter. 
• Feeling like they somehow have to make a choice whether to see me or her based on her childcare situation. 
• Feeling like they are stuck in the middle of this horribly awkward situation. Where her baby lived an mine died. 
• Trying to be good friends to each of us while not hurting the feelings of the other. 

I don't envy their situation. I try to put myself in their shoes,,,,, but I'm too close. I am unable to think objectively. So as much as I like this friend (and believe it or not, I really do) her move is a huge relief. Because I get to keep the friends.

And I really need them right now.

As horrible as it is to say this,,,, I need them more than she does. So I'm lying to everyone. Saying how much I will miss her and how sad I am to see her go. When really I'm just counting down the days.

So I'm a liar, and it makes me feel like a horrible person. Even though all I'm really trying to do is survive.

Blog Party

 

The lovely ladies over at 5 Minutes for Mom are having a huge blog party and I have decided to join in the fun. If you want to join in as well, click on the button above for all the info. If you are new to my blog, welcome.


Here is a little bit of info about me and my blog.

I am an American expat living in London. My husband and I have lived here for over 5 years now and really enjoy it.

I am Mommy to an angel in heaven. My son was stillborn at 36 weeks in August of 2010. I started this blog to try and work through my grief and find my way back from the brink of despair. My goal is to figure out how to live my life without him. Things will never be the way they used to be. So I am looking to find my new normal.

Before our loss we struggled with infertility so this blow was especially hard. It felt like we almost made it to our new lives and then someone just pulled the rug out from under us.

We are now in the process of trying for another baby. This time, due to my age and some genetic issues we are going forward using an egg donor. The world of egg donation is completely new to me. So I have been writing a lot about this new journey.

This blog has been such a refuge for me. It's where I can share my feelings in a way that I am unable to do in real life. I don't hold anything back. Much of what I share here is raw, uncensored, and painful to read. Believe me, it's painful to write as well. This is not a bright, shiny, happy blog much of the time. But it's me, all of me. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

For this reason, I don't reveal myself here. Somehow I feel safer blogging anonymously.

If I haven't scared you off yet then I hope you spend some time getting to know more about me and my journey.

How Much Do I Share?

I am happy that we now have a plan. I am happy that this plan seems to be our best chance of having a healthy living baby that we get to bring home with us this time. The part I struggle with now is how much to share with the people I know in real life?

Egg donation is still a pretty new thing. While I know lots of people who have done IUI, IVF, and even adoption, I don't know anyone who has used any kind of donor. I tend to be a bit of an open book when it comes to my infertility and loss journey, but this time I feel I need to carefully consider what I say.

I have only told my family and 2 very close friends so far and they were all amazingly supportive. But the expat community is a rather tight knit group. A bit like a small town, or living in the dorms in college where everyone know everyone else's business. As a result of this tight knit community, I have a rather large group of friends. Normally this is a great thing, but in this case I feel the need for some discretion.

As with any small town-type environment, there are a lot of friendly faces around. There is also a lot of gossip and judgement. The last thing I want is for my major life decisions to become fodder for gossip. I also am in no place to be able to handle any kind of negativity or judgement. I may be getting stronger, but I'm still very sensitive and vulnerable.


It's not that I'm ashamed that if we have another child it won't be genetically related to me. My life has been completely shatterd by the death of my son. I would do anything to be able to bring home a happy, healthy baby. It's just that I'm not sure I want everyone to know exactly how we did it. I have this vision of people meeting my child and immediately trying to see if he or she doesn't look like me. I imagine conversations where people say things like, "Well they did a good job picking out a donor because that baby looks like it belongs to them," or "That baby looks nothing like her, good thing he/she looks like his/her father." 

Perhaps I'm being overly paranoid. Perhaps this is what adoptive parents think about too. Perhaps I'm not giving myself and others enough credit. Or perhaps this is exactly what people will say and do and I don't want to have to deal with it.

Perhaps I need more time before making this decision.

I'm going to Brussels with some friends this weekend for a girl's weekend. Let's hope I can keep my big mouth shut after a few glasses of wine.

Try Not to Freak Out the Preganant Lady, Please

Before I get started let me assure you that the pregnant lady in this story is not me.

As I have mentioned before, I'm an American expat living in London. One of the first things I did when I got here was to join a club for expatriate women. It has been through this organization that I have met most of my close friends. Once a month this club has a coffee morning where new members and old members can get together. It's mostly designed as a way to welcome new people to London and the club. For many women, it's the first time they have worked up the nerve to venture out of their new homes and walk into a room full of strangers hoping for some kind of lifeline. So as a veteran member, I understand how important it is that we make these new women feel welcome.

I've mostly avoided these coffee mornings since losing my son because I just didn't have the energy for them. But his month I've been feeling more like my old self and decided to attend.

It was all going pretty well. There was a nice mixture of new members and existing ones. As fate would have it, I ended up sitting next to two visibly pregnant women. One who had just joined the club, and one who had been a member for a while but who I don't know very well. This was fine by me. I don't have an issue with pregnant women, I just have an issue with newborn babies. Since neither of these women had a newborn with them I was sure all would be fine.

So we were chatting about this and that. I was careful not to ask anything about their pregnancies as I knew this would lead to them asking me if I had children. I thought I was doing so well. Until the woman who I don't know very well asked me this question. "The last time I saw you was right before you had your baby, right? So how is the little one?"

So now I am trying to figure out exactly how to say what I need to say. I have two very pregnant ladies staring at me waiting for my answer. The new woman looks very smiley as she's expecting me to start telling tales of cute newborns, sleepless nights, and other various baby tales.

So I just said it, "My son was stillborn."

Looks of horror spread across both of their faces. Not just horror for me, but horror for themselves. They both asked me how and why and did I know anything. They wanted to know if the doctors had known anything or if there had been any signs. I calmly (so proud of myself for that) explained that no, there had been no signs. I had had a perfectly normal pregnancy. I didn't know anything was wrong until the ultrasound at 36 weeks (which got a shriek from the new woman who I'm assuming is close to 36 weeks).

They both asked me how I was doing. Again, I stayed calm and explained that it has been really tough but that I've got some really great friends who have helped me through it. I was so proud of myself for not crying through all of this. At this point another friend of mine (who had been chatting to someone else) realized what we were talking about and very slyly turned the conversation in another direction.

I am proud of myself for staying calm and not breaking down. I've been in this situation before when I haven't been as brave. But this time I felt a bigger responsibility. I needed to stay strong not just for me, but for the two pregnant women I was talking to. The last thing I want to do is to freak out a pregnant woman. We've all been there and know how scary it all is. But to have to face me, the manifestation of their greatest fear, couldn't have been easy. I know it wasn't easy for me.

We Survived Christmas

I am so happy and relieved that it's the 27th of December today. No more Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, or Boxing Day celebrations to get through. The holidays are over for another year. Another year for me to get stronger, heal a bit more, and to hopefully find my 'new normal' before I have to face Christmas again.


I am also happy to report that we survived! Christmas is a pretty big deal around our house, especially since we are expats and live far from our family. Because of my husband's job, flying back to be with the family is not an option so we spend Christmas with just the two of us. I had dreamed of it being just the three of us this time, but that was not to be. So when we made the decision to celebrate Christmas this year I knew we were doing the right thing. I also knew it would not be easy, and I was right.

I think Christmas Eve was the toughest day. Last year on Christmas Eve was when I found out I was pregnant so it was two milestones in one. It hit my husband even harder than it hit me. As we sat together on the couch with tears streaming down our faces I was reminded how much I love this man. A man who is not afraid to show his grief and to share it with me. In a way it was nice to be able to comfort him because most of the time our roles are reversed and it is he who is comforting me.

We had been invited out for some after dinner drinks at a local pub (Ah, pubs,,, one of the things I love about England). We considered not going because of our sad moods, but then decided to go. I have to say, it was the best decision we could have made. It was the perfect end to the day. We had spent time together celebrating Christmas Eve and eating a great dinner (if I do say so myself). Then we spent some time honoring the memory of our son. Then we went out and spent some time with new friends. We talked, and joked, and laughed. It was exactly what we needed.

On Christmas Day, we opened our presents and then hubby made a fabulous breakfast. He slept off his minor hang over from the night before on the couch while I got things ready for our big dinner. Of course there was a huge baby-shaped hole in our day. It would have been so much better if our son had been with us. I imagined the toys and baby clothes that might have been wrapped under the tree. I imagined being stressed out about making dinner while taking care of baby at the same time. I imagined holding him in my arms. I imagined putting him in his cute Christmas outfit and showing him off to my family on Skype. I imagined a lot of things, but none of them would really get to happen. It was just my wonderful husband and me this year and that would have to be enough. We are all each other has left at the moment.

Boxing Day was easier. I think it's because I didn't grow up celebrating it so there's not as much of a sentimental feeling for me. I didn't do any shopping because I didn't really want to face the hoards of people out looking for bargains. The hubby had to do a bit of work in the morning and when he got back we enjoyed another huge meal.

We survived our first Christmas without our son. I cooked myself silly this holiday season. Our fridge is filled with left-overs. I made mulled wine for the first time (super yummy by the way). We lit our son's candle every day. We both ate and drank too much. We spent time together.  We cried for our baby boy.

We remembered him. We miss him.