DF and i got together early in october, and it was a huge month for me. the workplace i had loved and cherished for six years accused me of inappropriate behaviour and terminated my employment. i was stunned, to say the least. then while i was doing a fast trip to wollongong to see my sister (at her insistence) for a family long weekend, instead of showing my car as i had planned, she had a huge dummy spit and dumped on me in a big way. i couldn't help but feel she had turned on me big time...
then i've come home to no job, taken on a part-time in a bakery, done six shifts and then been phoned late at night by the boss's father-in-law and told not to bother coming back in to work because i wasn't up to standard. no explanation bar that. ok, another knock...
lent my eldest daughter a good chunk of money only to find out she's spent it inappropriately, and has no way of paying it back...
DF got horribly sick in november so i spent most of the month and of course my birthday looking after him, while all of my kids forgot to mention it at all....
in the leadup to christmas we were packing his flat and his things for storage so he could go away overseas, driving down to Moss Vale to drop off his work van, and leaving christmas presents with my sister...
in all of this i was performing in Drag Idol, we became the official photographers for the event, started up a website and business plan for the photography, i got a modality massage website up and an ebay shop, and i got through to the finals of drag idol without even one "good for you, mum" from the kids.
by the time we got to christmas eve i was feeling tired and teary all the time, and thought i'd better look into my health...well guess what?
i was pregnant. now how did that happen??
DF was a bit taken aback at first but soon warmed to the idea. we discussed strategies for checking on the health of the child, which considering my age is an issue. i took myself off to the doctor, got on the vitamins and folate, got stricter about my diet and started excersising more..which considering how much rain we've had here, was a bit hard to fit in !!!
we got excited by the second ultrasound because it showed a heartbeat, but the radiologist was a bit concerned because there didn't seem to be much growth. but i was confident, i felt well, and apart from a little extra weight and a pair of suddenly magnificent boobs, pregnancy didn't seem to be stopping me from getting on with things. i gardened, did a few things around the house, tossed names around, and bought a few things for the baby on ebay.
in all this my darling daughter was becoming more and more rebellious, difficult, and demanding. i confided in her that i was pregnant before i'd told the other two, and she seemed to be happy, wanting to go to the ultrasound with me and telling me she'd always wanted a sibling. she bunked off to parties, lied to me over a few things where i was trying to trust her, and ran away from home, blaming her brother living with us at first and then me having alan around. eventually she threw such a tantrum that the neighbours threatened to call the police, and ran to her father.
when darling daughter told her father i was pregnant the **** really hit the fan. next thing i knew i was apparently a bad mother, emotionally unavailable to my daughter, i was never home,only pregnant so i could claim a pension, i always needed the red carpet treatment (???) and i was ditching her for my new "family" . it isn't pleasant to hear the words of a spiteful and jealous 55yr old man who is unable to sustain a relationship coming out of the mouth of his fifteen year old daughter. she screamed and threw more tantrums and went through my things, told me she hoped i would lose the baby, helped herself to my makeup, my $160.00 boots, my car spraypaint and her brother's bundy rum stash, graffitti'd her room, ran away to her sister's, and demanded that i kick her brother out when he told her to pull her head in.
last day of the school holidays she came home, demanded i take her shopping for school, run her and a friend around, conned money for a new top, and then informed me that she was going to live with her father. fine, i thought, burn your bridges...i rang her father, asked him to bring her over to clean up her room, informed him about the graffitti, the broken doorframe, and the holes in the walls, only to have him drop her off for a whole 20 minutes to clean up her mess. she waltzed in and immediately turned on the computer and logged on to msn (!!) so i told her she'd lost her internet priveliges and took her house keys back.
so the next morning DF got stuck in with me and we bagged all her things, vacuumed, and washed the walls. it's cost me $200.00 in special paint to cover the damage she's done, and two days prepping and painting, without fixing the hole or sanding the three doors she's ruined. in the process i found the pencil case full of pens that apparently was stolen from her bag last year, four pairs of school shoes that apparently she didn't have, and two pairs of school pants that also apparently she didn't have, not mentioning the billabong ones i'd also bought for school, and uncountable odd socks and hair ties and pins which she also was apparently short of. maybe if she'd cleaned up her things off the floor sometime...? i was surprised to see carpet..i'd forgotten she had some in her room. it was the only thing that wasn't filthy or spraypainted..probably because she hadn't seen it in a year.
her father got the ****s when i texted him saturday morning to pick up her things from off the verandah, and rang my son at work demanding he come home and open up the house, even though he could see my car was there and i was downstairs getting ready for work. i'd already spoken to centrelink days before, but i had to laugh ...when i phoned the child support agency first thing monday morning, he'd already been in their ear. he's raising a case for child support against me...i earnt $15,000.00 last year and he earnt $70,000.00. and he has no mortgage because he lives in a caravan...
now, though, back to the sad bit. through all the increasing emotional, physical, and financial stress, i was just trying to stay calm and let it all wash over me. calm mums make calm babies, as my sister said when i finally told her i was having one. at 43, i knew it wasn't going to be all that easy....
over the weekend i cramped and spotted, enough to notice but not enough to really stress about, but i lost the plot completely on sunday night with DF and ended up driving off to emergency at 2am, distraught, only to be sent home with no help or comfort, having only seen a young intern who didn't even look old enough to shave. i was booked to have my third ultrasound at 9am the next morning. it showed us that the baby's heartbeat, never strong, had stopped. somewhere in the two weeks between ultrasounds the little mite's nervous system had failed to keep developing, for no particular reason that can be tested for, just one of those things. no blame, no one thing we can plan against or avoid, just one of those things.
numb as i was, i spent the day going back and forward from ultrasound to my gp, to emergency and waiting waiting waiting in a room that seemed to be full of mums with bellies and young curly-haired toddlers , to finally at 7.30pm, after a whole day spent waiting and being shuffled between triage nurse, gynae resident and day surgery, i was taken in to have the last of my child removed, before it gave me an infection.
i haven't had a chance to grieve yet, but i will. at the moment i'm just dealing with the body stuff and i'm in a but of pain. i found this website while googling stats on m/c in older women. we've had no counselling or support from the hospital, my gp, or centrelink, as i was coming off the pension and working part-time again, but i want to study this year again too. i stood for two hours in a queue and then an hour at a desk only 24 hours after a m/c and a D&C !!! i'd already been up to enrol in \tafe that day !!!! only to be told that i shouldn't expect any special treatment !!! i was just trying to inform them my daughter had moved out and i wouldn't be claiming family tax benefit any more. i feel that because DF is twelve years younger than i am, we're not being taken seriously. he's devastated, wants us to try again, but we've been given no information on when we can try or how long to wait, or even a check-up date with my gp.
i'm hurt and angry that we've been shoved aside and ignored, that my sister tells me i shouldnt have tried to keep the baby because i was "too old" that my daughters both shrugged it off and told me i was an idiot...the only support we've had has been from virtual strangers, ppl at the church who hardly know us yet and my friends on myspace who hardly know me either !!
it's all for a reason, i know. i have faith. but sheesh !!!!
any suggestions on how soon i can expect Aunty Flo or a real cycle?
oh and one more thing...the pram/cot/maternity wear and baby clothes i'd bought on ebay in all my excitement...arrived the day after my m/c.
thanks all :)
