Questions

People are asking me every day, am I excited?

Is it rhetorical? I don't quite understand anymore why people ask me.

"You must be so excited!" Well yeah, but I can't quite jump up and down about it. I can barely walk now at 38+2.

The guilt for not feeling 'so excited I can't contain myself', is overwhelming. It's like, I've gotten so used to her, so used to loving her... So used to not seeing her but feeling her. So used to not hearing her, but knowing what she's doing.

If I was to have her in my arms right now... I don't know how I'd cope. If I was told I wouldn't have my 'body' back, I'd freak out and not know what to do. And by 'body' I don't mean toned legs and tummy. I mean no dead arms, no painful joints, no swollen legs, arms and face...

Getting up to go to the loo 3 times a night used to be funny and somewhat exciting because it was the only real 'annoying' thing that I was having to deal with. But now I can't get out of bed without screaming in pain, and getting back in is even worse. Falling back asleep; finding that perfect position where my arms WON'T go dead... where I can breathe, and not squash my baby... I don't know.

I'm fully adjusted to all the changes but it doesn't mean I enjoy them. I accept they're all normal. I just don't like them ;).

I can't wait to hold her, and see her eyes open... I can't wait to count her fingers and toes. I can't wait to feed her and hear her snore (newborns have the cutest little snuffley snore. It's not so cute when you can't sleep though), I can't wait to see her clothes on her. And to see her in her moses basket, cot, and activity ring.

There are so many things I'm excited for but I already love her... It's not like being excited for a first date, for example, even though I haven't met her. It's hard to explain but all mums will know what I mean. It's odd, and surreal, knowing that any day now she will actually be 'out'. She will breathe for the first time, and make her first noises. And YES I will fall in love, over and over, every day will be exciting for her and I, and her dad.

But not the type of excitement that keeps you up at night thinking you can hear sleigh bells... not scary movie peek-through-your-hands type excitement and not unwrapping a weirdly shaped present type excitement...

It's all new and fricking 'WOOHOO' but it's also unknown territory. We all know babies cry, but until you're a mum you don't know what your babies cry will do to you. You don't know how you'll react; whether you'll block your ears or cry with her. We all know new babies sleep a lot but then we also know when they're awake; they need something right then and there.

I'm a realist in the worst/best of situations. I'm not negative, I just know that some things don't always go perfectly. I'm as prepared as I can be; for the best and worst outcome. But you don't know till it happens, right?

I've had people throw advice at me from left, right, centre, above, below and bloody diagonally. If there's something to say, they'll say it. But what first time mums (or I) appreciate most is NO advice; and little confidence boosters. My mum is best at it especially when it comes to this wee bubby of mine. I'll bring up a concern with her, or I'll tell her what someone else has said to me that has upset me; and she will quietly say that it doesn't need to be worried about until the time comes, or AT ALL.

The last month, I have gone downhill so fast in regards to my 'health'. No, pregnancy is not a disability. It's a blessing. BUT, in reality, it also fucking hurts some of us.

I don't have a partner to rub my back/tummy/neck/shoulders/legs/feet every night, or to cook me tea, or clean up for me, or to just genuinely reassure me. And I hear other pregnant women going on and on about how much pain they're in (when we're all in it) but they're the ones with partners/husbands who they can lean on. They have it so much easier than us single mummas. I wish I could slap them sometimes; not because I'm jealous but because they don't realise how hard it would be (compared to their current 'awful' situation) if they were even in a slightly different situation.

It seems a lot of people in my life have very little faith or confidence in me. It just proves they don't know me at all and it's kind of funny but also very upsetting.

Anyway, babies room is now ready for her. Her clothes are washed and put away (the drawers honestly barely close and it's a slight worry but never mind), her hospital bag is packed, her bottles are clean and sterile just in case I can't breastfeed. Her linen is all clean and folded, hidden away in the spare room with all the other things we can't use straight away like her car seat for when she's older.

My hospital bag is 60% packed. I just need to put clean clothes in it (I'm still wearing some so I just wash them every day and put them back in in case I go into labour that night) and charge my iPod, update my labour/birth playlist... And pack speakers for the bag because headphones will not go well in the birthing pool ; )

Today I bought myself my first new pair of shoes throughout the whole pregnancy. I'm amazed. Usually I'm a size 5 or at most a 6. Today I had to buy a pair of size 7 moccasins. That's how swollen my feet are. It's not the prettiest but I'm EXCITED to have my feet back to normal and to be able to feel the bones in my ankles. My ankles are non existent and look horrid so it's a good thing it's Winter and I can wear long pants.

The hospital tour went well. It's funny thinking I was born there and my Peach will be born there too (fingers crossed, people!!!). It's a really lovely atmosphere but far out, it's boiling there. I got all itchy and broke out in a rash under my clothes. I used to always get rashes from heat and stress so I knew it was coming but jeez louise. I suppose it has to be hot for babies sake but I can tell you now, my sliding door in the room in the ward will be open 24/7 while I'm there (shh).

It's 1.30am and I really could do with some sleep but I don't see it happening. I've got a foot jammed into my bra wire at present. Not very comfy and I think it's her way of telling me to go get into bed. So I will.

Heartache

I sit here, alone (apart from my baby girl Peach who makes me everything but alone), every night and I watch birthing videos.

I wait in suspense, I listen, I smile but most of all I cry. I cry until my lungs are flat-packs, empty of oxygen. I cry when the babies come out, and when they take their first breath; cry. I cry when there is silence just for a split second and everyone is moving and still at the same time, but the silence is suspense in disguise and we're all just waiting to see that baby and check all it's fingers and toes.

But mostly I cry because she's not alone, mentally, physically, emotionally... She's half; or even a third. She is half of the team, before the baby. And she's one third of the team when baby is born.
There's two of her, and him. They are mixed up and in love and in awe of this baby boy or girl that they created. It's all because they fell in love.

He can hear her on a different level, he can speak to her with his eyes; open or shut.

He holds her from across the room, and keeps her warm with his fingertips.

He is there for her 100 percent and it's not conditional or 'just because he feels like it today'. He is there, all the time, and it's not ruining him. It's changing him, and making him.

Things hurt but when we can lean on someone it makes the pain that much more bearable.

Who can I lean on, who I can trust? Who won't hurt me. Who will accept me during these last few weeks and when the time comes; who will hold me up when I can no longer stand...

I'm ruling out people from my life one by one; sieving them out, seeing who really cares and who genuinely wants to be here for me and my baby girl.

It's down to 0, sadly.

It's not true; we don't get what we give. Because I've given everything to everyone and I'm getting nothing back.

People can be horrible.

Life

The end is near. It's so close I can almost touch it.

I have 5 weeks and 3 days to go until the beginning of my baby girls 'life', until she breathes, and opens her eyes, sees daylight and my crying eyes looking back.

It's like life and death; or the beginning and end of everything. Every beginning has an end and every end has a beginning. The end of pregnancy and the beginning of a life, which will too have an end one day (which just hit me and made me feel sick).

I had my two baby rats put to sleep not long ago, and I knew it was for the best. They were my favourite little things in the world. They bit sometimes but they didn't mean to, they didn't know. The pure innocence in those little beady eyes, and their little baby rat feet and paws... The tiny claws made for gripping and climbing which would scratch me and make me itch but my god those little scratches were worth it.

Finch had a tumour for a month, maybe, before it really started effecting her. She was a little on the large side therefore sometimes rolled around on accident when she was trying to get to an itch, and at first it was cute but then it became unfair. She was tired all the time and although she loved her cuddles from day one, she was beginning to love them even more and it was worrying. She was slower than usual, ate more (infact ate all the time, and sat in her food bowl) and slept a lot.

I knew the time had come, and it was unfortunate I had to get them both put to sleep but they came into the world together and they deserved to be together, wherever they were going next.

I hope they're happy and tumour free where they are now, in rat heaven I suspect. Where there's hundreds of hammocks to sleep in and bowls of nutri-grain to snack on, and lots and lots of yoghurt on tap....

I love you my babies xxx

6 weeks 4 days to go

Sometimes things fall out of our hands, and the control is no longer ours. The ball of string is rolling away and we can't run fast enough or lean down to get the end of the ball of string.

We can push ourselves to run, we can squish our babies and organs trying to bend down and pick up the end of the ball of string..

Or we can watch it roll away and dance on the ground; perhaps fool ourselves into thinking that it's magical and wonderful when underneath we're really thinking...

SHIT.

Pregnancy is a strange thing, feeling, time.... "place".

It's extremely lonely even when you're around someone else. Even when there's laughter and talking and crying going on... You still feel like you're in a wee bubble of love, or tiredness or hatred, or hunger... or pain... It's freakin' lovely, do not get me wrong. But crikey dick it's lonely.

I feel so strange... like I'm back in the first trimester. Everything is taking it's time; which is fine, I need time. But at the *same* time, I also really want to meet my baby girl.

The birthing/breastfeeding videos that my antenatal class tutor has lent me, make me cry until it hurts. I cannot wait to experience it all.... A year ago, it was all a dream; the whole pregnancy/birthing shindig. But now it's real.

Truth be told, I hadn't dreamt of it all working out this way... But it's all right, I've got my peach and she's got her mumma.

Funny things have been happening though. In specific; a lot of people in my life have been trying to 'prepare' me for things.

Well if only I knew I'd be doing '3 loads of washing a day', I wouldn't have decided to go forth with my pregnancy.

- Sarcasm..

In all seriousness though; I feel as though I can't be truthful and just *moan* about how crap I'm feeling. I hold it all in until the last minute and usually end up crying. The killer back ache, the heartburn, the swollen feet and carpal tunnel in my arms.... the baby stuck in my ribs...

People growl at me for being truthful or tell me to suck it up and it's funny because generally they're men, or women who were pregnant at least 20+ years ago.

I love this baby girl and nothing scares me about her birth... or the late nights (it's 1.35am and I'm falling asleep), or the sore boobs (according to breastfeeding videos, they shouldn't hurt at all!!) or the lack of social life (that I don't already have anyway)....

I'm not afraid, I'm prepared. And it's taken me months, and I've done it all on my own. I'm ready for her but she's just not quite there yet ;)

It's been a while

& a lot has happened.

I'm still here, very much so. Maybe even more than before.

I've sorted out everything for Peach :). I've ordered her mattress, I skimped on getting the frieze in her room laminated as it looks fine as it is, her quilt's been drycleaned (although it smells worse than it did in the first place, so they told me to bring it back in), maternity clothing is all sorted (as it should be! I'm now 33 weeks... ahhh), her clothing is sorted (-washed, folded, put away, sorted into her hospital bag)...

Things are ticking along and she's moving all day everyday. Her hiccups are perhaps once every 2 hours, and they're felt mostly in my guts, seeing as her head is 'way down' according to doctors, and my bladder.

I'm now a victim of stretch marks, and other nasties such as carpal tunnel (numb fingers, dead arm, etc.) and extremely horrible heartburn. I can't roll over, at all. It's more of an OUCH OUCH OUCH *boom* movement.

I have turned into Miss Nester; I clean every day. Whether it's my house or someone elses.. I can't just 'put that magazine over there', I have to clean the entire table from which I am moving it from... And then the one it's going to....

I vacuum and do dishes every day, clean her and my clothes, put them away, dust, polish, scrub....

Did I mention I'm addicted to the smell of chemicals? Pine-o-clean is a big favourite of mine, especially Eucalyptus Blossom scent... YUM. Also the fabric cleaner I have (lemon), Ajax (window cleaner), nail polish and nail polish remover, shoe polish..... Petrol...

It's quite bad but it's like as soon as I get a 'hit', my mouth waters, and my eyes sort of glaze over. It's my drug and I like it right now! Won't last for ever.

Nothing lasts forever.

Failing or falling...

I haven't written for a while. And I realise that it's not because what I was thinking and what was in my head; wasn't worth writing... It's that I didn't want to admit what I was feeling.

Down patches are the reason that the good patches, are just that.

Before I conceived this tiny baby girl (who doesn't feel so tiny any more!29weeks,people!), I used to go through very extreme emotional phases. Ecstasy, violence, anger, love, infatuation... The calm never came unless I'd downed a few glasses of cheap wine.

But since being pregnant, my emotional highs and lows are less high and low and *just past* the medium for me. I see it like this...

1.LOW--------------------------5.MEDIUM--------------------------10.HIGH

I used to hang around 1 and 10. And now the lowest I feel is 3. The highest I feel is mostly 8.

It's like I'm back on Prozac but I don't have side effects... Wait, I kinda do. Pregnancy side effects... But still.

I love that I won't fall to the very bottom. I love that even when I get hurt; I cry and it leaves me breathless. But then I breathe again. And breathing again seems to make it all better...

I guess I'm talking crap, but for those who know what I mean; well, you know what I mean.

Some days are tragic, and I get asked how my day was... I usually say "Not the best but not as bad as it could've been." Because believe me; I have had worse. Much much worse.

On a different note; thinking back to this time last year... I was living at home, and swinging back and forth between love and hate/ 1-10 on my scale.

2 years ago, I was boarding at a family friends house. I had my own space yet had people around who cared about me. Was awesome...

3 years ago, same as above! I had just moved there. I was 16.

4 years ago, 2006, I was living with my mum in Westport, NZ. I was so different... I was 15... I had left school and was pottering along, finding my way in life. Finding my feet, and heart, everything.

5 years ago, it was 2005. I can barely even think back that far... I was 4th form at high school and I didn't mind it too much... I loved my teacher he was great... I lived at dads... I had boys hanging off me (I remember I used to send 6000 texts a month! How insane is that?) and black and pink hair... Toned tanned legs... Everything was dandy!

6 years ago, 2004, was about the same as above apart from the hair... I was a blonde. And did blonde things. I went to school because I had to; just like 2005. I lost my baby, and a part of myself. I guess I've been searching for that missing puzzle piece ever since. She is not being replaced by Peach; nor will she ever be replaced. Sometimes I think that the wee gap is always meant to be there. It's her puzzle piece; air.

Life changes so much, so fast. It all seems like yesterday. My heart being broken for the first time, sneaking out for the first time, DRINKING for the first time (and falling down stairs and breaking someone's vase.. sorry...), falling in and out of lust, being bullied, forgetting to do homework, butterflies, sleep ins, a house with people in it.... FOOOOOD....

Now it's just me, falling in love with this baby of mine; the only way I know how. It is falling, not failing. Once I was seen as a failure but now I don't even care what people think. I'm focussed on her, and myself.

Promises mean everything when you're little

This song sums me up. Funny.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQiBop5ns8k

What I miss

Since being pregnant; people always ask me if I miss going to town or if I miss drinking.

What I miss most are antihistamines, ibuprofen, and Omeprazole.

I miss Sushi.

I miss chicken, cranberry, Camembert & salad sandwiches from a certain bakery.

I miss the gym. God I miss it. I don't miss exercise; I miss putting my headphones in and gripping onto the handles of the weird machine I loved... I miss watching my heartrate go to 200, 204, 195, 209....

I loved the screaming rage in my head coming out in the form of sweat; and being swept away by my towel. I loved being thirsty and drinking freezing cold water from my drink bottle. I miss the burn in my legs and arms and watching the kilometres add up...

I can't risk it though; babies safety isn't worth risking. My heart just goes up too high (200+...way too high) and I'm already feeling weak as it is.

But I miss not sniffling and itching my face. I miss being able to get rid of a headache in minutes. Likewise with reflux.

In a way I guess I do miss town; but drama always broke out. Someone cried, someone vomited, an ex came my way, someone tried to get in my taxi and come home with me... the list goes on. I liked town for the same reason as I liked the gym; venting my anger. But I don't miss not being drunk enough to realise how gross the men were, or how drugged the 'women' (underage girls) were.

I haven't changed much. I've become a mummy. I've become the version of me who cares more about someone she hasn't even met yet. I've become my best self; who I've strived to be, for ever.

It's a pity though, that the people I love most, don't want to experience this huge change for me, with me.

I guess it's just me and you, baby.

You had me

I was an accident.

We were unplanned. We too were an accident.

My baby girl is the best accident I've ever made:)

But to feel like I am a mistake; is the worst feeling in the world.

It's accepting that I can only control my own views on the world;... My own actions... My own voice...That makes the difference.

Three people in my life who I have worked my ass off for to try make happy; will never be happy. Never. And I can't fix that. I can only make myself happy.

It's nothing to do with money; or materials... It's the family dinners, and the hugs... The long phone conversations that end with 'I love you' and 'I love you too's...

It's the heartache when you're hung up on. The unfinished conversation and silent 'I love you' said through tears.

I am one of those people who are super sensitive. Everything either makes me smile or cry. I feel everything. I don't lie, I don't try and fool myself either. I give my all, to whoever, whatever, whenever.

I only ever ask for help when I really need it. I hate asking for money; and I rarely ever do. I would rather go without than ask for help. I don't like feeling like a victim. I know I can look after myself; I always have.

I'm always there for people when they ask for help. I would bend over backwards (can't literally do this anymore) for the people I love.

When it's all thrown back in my face in the form of a text; or a phone call, or a dramatic act infront of a friend... It's all over. You've lost me.

I am so tired of giving everyone; everything. I'm exhausted. I've been myself, all of the time; and been so honest and loved people PROPERLY the only way I know how.

Growing up without the love & respect I know I deserved, has taught me that everyone deserves it until they don't. But a child cannot NOT deserve love and respect; that is so twisted.

I have never regretted anything. I never will. Because I'm happy. And if I regret something it means I'm unhappy and wish I could go back. I don't wish anything. I only hope....

I have apologised/been expected to apologise so many times for being upset and rightfully lashing out at people. SO MANY TIMES. But not once have I ever had a real apology from anyone who's hurt me.

I'm done with apologies because no one ever returns them. Why am I always the one pouring my broken heart out and making an effort to fix things when no one else gives a flying f*** ? It's so frustrating and disrespectful. I'm sick of being everyone's fixer!!!

My first boyfriend broke my heart after I lost our baby, and he repeatedly said "I'm sorry". I felt sorry for him more than anything. Because he didn't even know what he was apologising for. A few more people have carried on this tradition too.

Anyway. I've had a rough few days with the so called 'family' I thought I was a part of.

I don't know if I'm the ugly duckling or the black sheep but whatever the hell I am; I'm sure as hell nothing like the people I came from or love.

So; to all the important people in my life. Know I have loved you with everything I have, I have always done the best by you and our relationships. I respected you once. I looked up to you. I loved you.

You had me 24/7, whenever you needed me, for whatever. I was there for you.

I'm not any more.

You know who you are; who you've been in my life... How important you were. And how HORRIBLY you have hurt me.

The only way for me to get through heartache is to leave it behind and ignore it. I've done it before. So many times. I have done it again; I did it last night. I spent 6 hours with 2 (different people) very special people in my life who know how much I care about them and they actually return the respect. They are my family. They don't lie to me, they care, they show me they care too. I'm sick of the people in my life who are all talk. They do nothing about anything. Talk the talk only if you'll walk the walk because if I'm willing to hold your bloody hand while you walk then why won't you!?

Done. Done done done.

The perfect song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bhip6_ynBn0

This makes me want to meet my little crazy girl RIGHT NOW. I love her so much... It's insane.

I've had issues in the past. They are completely gone. My head has never been this clear in my life. I've never not had gut pain apart from now.... The headaches are gone, finally. I can eat normally. I am healthy for the first time in a hell of a long time.

I have amazing energy surges that I've never had before. . .

I'm extremely grateful for those who are helping me... I am so much more appreciative of the great people in my life who are truly amazing... In many ways.

Pregnancy makes you have crazy hormone levels right? Well; I think it's the same for every one else around as well. I'm really beginning to see who my true friends are. Likewise with my family. Those who I loved; are no longer mine to love. It's hard to explain and unless you're inside my head, you won't get it.

I think I'm finally living by my tattoo; Let it be.

I'm letting go of things that were too painful to hold onto. And keeping my hands free until this beautiful little girl comes into the big bad world for me to hold. She won't cause me pain. Sleepless nights; sore back... Tears.. But nothing like the pain I've experienced from the other people in my life.

Life, huh.

to you

Love isn't finding a perfect person.

It's seeing an imperfect person, perfectly.

Love comes to those who still hope even though they've been disappointed; to those who still believe even though

they've been betrayed, to those who still love even though they've been hurt before.

Milkless Sunday

I've run out of milk. . . Well, I haven't but the fridge has.

I wish there were taps for cold milk and not just water. I wish there was a juice tap, milk tap, and water. Perfecto.

I also wish my stupid neighbours would shut up. Almost 4 nights in a row now of bassy music. I hate it.. I hate it.

My back is killing me... I suppose it's from carrying this little tub of a girl around ;). All worth it, but my god! I know it's only going to get worse..

Autumn/Winter are my favourite seasons and I'm beginning to wonder why... Summer is too hot and you can't escape the heat. And Winter is cold; but you can get warm inside. It's easier to have both hot and cold temperatures to alternate back and forth from... Rather than just one.

The rains pouring down and I'm thinking it's time for sleep. I'm sure there will be some horrible dreams in tow from the day I've had today.

Sometimes things are so perfect that they're scary. Like leaves under your feet that look like stars; putting into perspective exactly how much everything *at that moment* is upside down.

Life can be perfect if only for an hour or so... But like I always say; the good/perfect days are worth the bad/imperfect days. I would rather have good and bad than boring!

Saw some paradise ducks today; got a wee bit teary eyed. They are so gorgeous. I then heard another female calling for her mate and it made me wonder; what d0 ducks think about? ...

Time for sleep and weird thoughts about duckies.

Where were you when I needed you?

I've had this headache for a good 4 hours now. It won't go. It's only getting worse....

Probably getting worse because I've been crying over my poor wee ratty, Finch. I've found a tumour under her armpit. It's roughly the size of an Apricot pip.

Operating on them isn't so much a waste of money, but the chances of the tumour returning are very likely. I feel so awful.

This happened in 2008 with my last two rats; Hoo and Roo. Roo got her tumour first and had to get it sucked out by the vet, then Hoo got hers. Unfortunately I had to get them both put down. I couldn't take them to do it because my heart was already in pieces. They were so cute and again, little characters.

Finch is apricot coloured with a white belly... She is rather obese... She rolls around and attempts to fit in gaps that she just doesn't fit in. I don't know why she bothers trying but god loves a trier, huh? She boggles her eyes when I go in in the morning and talk to them. She stashes her food in the 'toilet corner'. And she holds on to her wee when I have her out and about in the lounge or bed. She just goes really still and acts like she's doing it but she's not. So I put her back in the cage and she lets it all go. Very cute, even if I am talking about rat urine.

Fawn is albino and can't see very well... She bites a lot. I put her biting down to her eyesight but maybe she's just vicious.. She likes to grab food and does it quite scarily. She isn't fat at all; she's the opposite. Yet seems to eat more.. So who knows.

But wee Finchy is the unlucky bearer of a tumour this time. I'm sure that because they are sisters; Fawn will get hers soon enough. It's so heartbreaking. I'll have to get them both put down. I knew the day would come when they wouldn't wake up but for me to have to be the one to decide what day that is.... It's horrible :(

So the headache is still here. My reflux is here too, thanks Peach. My heart... aching.

Why are we here for people when they 'need' us, yet they can never repay the favour until it suits them? Being unconditionally in love (is not hard) means being there for the other person 24/7 whether you have time or not. Expectations don't change.

Being a good friend involves the above as well.

I'm exhausted.
Milk and sleeptime.

Things that make me, ME

I've been doing certain things lately and been quite baffled as to why I do them. I think it's just part of who I am but my god, I've realised how weird I really am...

For example; my sense of smell is my strongest sense. I'm always the one at a party who sniffs out something dead in the fridge, or in the garden, even after a bottle of wine I can still smell something unusual. It's so twisted. Certain smells make me feel at home, and some make me extremely uncomfortable. Old books; I love the smell of them. Libraries; I could live in one! Clean washing, mmmmm. Sunshine on things... Like linen or clothes. Makes things smell that much better. I *love* the smell of baby products... Like the sleepytime bath range... I can't wait to use them on Peach :)

I get sidetracked SO easily. Doing the dishes turns into doing the washing. Doing the washing turns into watching something on tv and falling asleep. Making tea turns into doing the dishes and so forth. Cleaning my room... I always seem to find something to stop me from doing this. Like this blog post ...

EYES. Indeed, they are the window to the soul and that's perhaps why I get a bit freaked out by them. I have never been one to open my eyes whilst in the midst of a kiss; but when I do... It's totally offputting if I see the other person has their eyes open. But also during arguments or speaking words of truth, I can't make eye contact because it makes me either want to kiss the person or smack the crap out of them. That's talking about two different people by the way. Don't want to seem like more of a weirdo.

I love Spongebob... It's kind of scary how much I love the program. It's for kids for goodness sake! Squidward is the best, he's so grumpy but underneath it he's all 'don't leave me...' and I love that vulnerability in people/squids. It's so real and raw.

I love spontaneity. Random trips to places I love... Or have never been to. I love going out at night; anywhere. I love walks late at night when everyone around is asleep. I used to live in a somewhat quiet and 'posh' area; it was safe enough for me to go walkabout alone at 4am. Sometimes I'd end up at the servo and I'd find myself deep in discussion with the guys behind the counter. Other times I'd snap back to life while on the swing at the park. . . Oh those were the days. The days where I'd sneak out to meet someone and we'd walk around my school in the dead of night and set off alarms and wake the caretaker... Get stuck in flax bushes and walk on the railway track. I had pink and black hair and wore size 8 in those days. Now my hairs dark brown, and I barely fit 12 anymore because of my giant bump. No problemo; it's totally worth it.

I prefer The Eagles to ANYONE these days. Any new music; urgh. I mean... Sometimes I find something I like but I'll be 'over it' within a week because the radio plays it so much. Tears for Fears; Everybody wants to rule the world... Best song, and yes I realise they are not The Eagles but still.

Falling asleep is my favourite part of the day. Every night without fail I say to myself "WHY DIDN'T I DO THIS EARLIER".... Good question.

I get depressed at the drop of a hat. But who doesn't?... I an get myself out of it as easily as I got myself into it. Still sucks.

I have an obsession with getting excited over books... It's really bad. I once spent 4 hours in Borders just sitting there reading bits of books because I didn't know which one to buy. I eventually went to the library but still. I buy/get out a book and every day I get butterflies thinking about reading it but then I never do!!! Bad. Bad bad bad.

I can't stand hot showers, hot pools, baths, spas, earplugs, hats, scarves, sunglasses... The hot water thing; it's the steam and I get all itchy. I had a hot shower the other night then turned it straight to cold because I was getting grumpy. Spas- oh don't get me started. Baths... The idea's nice but after 10 minutes I just want an iceblock... It's ridiculous. Earplugs hats sunglasses and scarves- I like my face being clear of things. I would be a grumpy mess if I had a fringe.

I have always had cravings my whole life; not just for flavours but for textures... Like the smooshing of a sandwich when your teeth bite through it...*drool*. Or the crack of an icecream as you try fit it all in your mouth...

On that subject; I have a secret addiction to 'fake' flavours... e.g imitation banana, imitation strawberry...raspberry...lemon... etc. Banoffee Pie toffee pops- if you've ever tried them you know what I mean about the imitation narnie flavour. Strawberry- the gummy strawberry lollies.. YARRRM. Raspberry icing. Lemon flavoured skittles.

I have spent the last 2 hours returning back and forth to this post; in between writing I have been vacuuming, cleaning, unpacking (I've lived in my 'new place' for nearly 2 months now) and throwing crap away.

Life is all pretty good today. Minus a few things. But if I don't write them- they're non existent to my eyes and therefore non existent! tadahh...

Oh, and my big brother bought his first house today! So proud of him, so so so proud. He is proof (to me) that you can be an amazing, gentle, lovely man and still achieve great things. Love you so much.

:)

Technology

What would our world be like without cellphones & internet?

Would we be angrier?

...Calmer?

...Would we write longer letters, or would they be much much shorter...

Would we just do things impulsively? Would we turn up somewhere unannounced. Would we walk in on heartache, or would we walk out without silently saying goodbye via text.

Who would we be? Would I be more 'me' or would I be less.

It's a form of communication yes; but we rely far too much on it.

The amount of times I have tuned in for the sound of my doorbell, only to be frightened back to reality by my cellphone beeping.

I use my phone to say good morning; but I would do anything to verbally say it and make eye contact while saying it.

Something so normal is now so uncommon and rare; beautiful.

I've learnt never take the good-morning's for granted because all too fast, they become goodbye's.

When my girl arrives, I will teach her how to be a human. And to be dictated by herself not a manual... Or a beep, or a status update, a notification... an email.

I'll teach her what love is; by showing her everyday. She will learn about the other emotions as time goes by but as long as I teach her one valuable life lesson then that is good enough for me.

I was just thinking; in relationships, one person usually has to get hurt. And it's generally always the same person. . . Until a new relationship starts, and you can swap places. And become the person who *causes* the hurt. But who's to say that you can't break the pattern?...

I've been hurt; but in my next relationship, I still wont be passing that on. I won't be breaking any hearts... Thanks but no thanks!

I think I've only ever hurt one person.. Ok maybe 2... or 3. But it was honesty that hurt them. I didn't lead them on and I *couldn't*. So the truth had to be said and that was the fact I wasn't happy in the relationship; I could be myself, I could be fun, yes we did have some good times; but they weren't the type of good times I could see myself remembering for life. Unlike others.

Unlike some women; I don't compare new relationships to old ones. I don't compare new boyfriends to 'old' ones. I used to. Until I realised I didn't really NEED another Ben, or James... Or Logan. One was enough, and the past is the past. I don't want to revisit things.

People sell houses, they buy new clothes, they dye their hair. They cry, they scream, yell, speed... But it makes no difference. I went shopping today to find new clothes to fit my baby bump. ALL the maternity ranges are gigantic! I'm only 5ft2" if that. And the 'long drapey cardi's come down to my freaking knees. I look like a bag lady from the streets; not the look I'm going for just yet. I got really angry when I was shopping because I ended up buying baby clothes rather than my own. Wait, no, I did get a couple things for myself. I got a singlet (that's long enough to cover my bum, it's HUGE) and some mascara. JOY.

Right now I am __________ that close to smashing something. In fact I used to. When I lived at home I think I purposely smashed things because I had no way to vent. I miss the gym, SO MUCH... I have an inch of an anger problem I think... Just a wee bit of a problem. But it's far better than the anxiety disorder I have had for years. I'd rather have smashed my shell than hide in it ;)

I saw the ducks again today. Brought a tear to my eyes.. Honestly I am pathetic but they are so gorgeous... they stood there talking then just walked towards the river. "Oh come on Jacqueline, it's a nice day. I know you have a new colour through your feathers but it's not going to run, I promise. Quack quack QUAAACK."...

Milk time.

Somewhere out there

Today's been horrible. Another Monday (with milk in the fridge, surprisingly... If only 300mls or so left) and I'm glad it's over.

I can't wait to wake up tomorrow and have the weather be different to today's.

I can't wait to listen to my new cd in the car and turn it up and block out my thoughts.

Tomorrow is Tuesday. Tomorrow is a new day. And I have to forget today. I have to be start off happy and pray that I remain happy. In fact, I won't let myself NOT be happy.

Peach has been moving a lot today; causing bad heartburn. And the kids at work were unsurprisingly; unhappy and DEAF today. Decided not to listen to anything I said, and all the rest that goes with Monday-itis..!

Today a few things have 'gotten to me'. I won't go into them, nor will I name names. I'll just say that I have been hurt badly, pissed off, aggrivated... Sworn at, belittled.. Goes on and on.

The good thing about 'bad days' is that we are so much more appreciative of the good days. We don't see them coming; we can't plan for them (;)), and they're unexpected packages of amazingness. When everything flows properly; your clothes fit perfectly, you don't get hungry after you've just eaten, traffic is decent, people are off your back and genuinely nice, nothing bad happens...

I pray for those days.

I wish and let the people up there *points* hear me. I speak to the stars... Even though they don't have ears; they seem to listen to me better than other people in my life do.

I have faith in myself but I also have faith that there is someone out there, somewhere out there, for me. That he will come along somehow, just like the good days do; unexpectedly and full of magic. He will make me feel worthwhile; and hold me when I need him to. He will give me massages and he will hold my hand when I'm in pain. He may not always know what to say but at least he will accept truths and give in to love. He will love my girly as much as he loves me.

He's not here, but those stars know what I need. They know me.

2 outta 3 ain't bad...

Lately I've had people say to me; "you don't like it when you don't get your own way".

After thinking about this for days, nights, weeks... I have come to the conclusion that 'our own way' is another version of saying 'our dreams', 'our hopes', 'our vision'.

I don't know why people feel the need to even spark that conversation/argument as it's totally unnecessary to even divulge into the subject of other peoples dreams unless it's a positive conversation.

For example; if someone I knew didn't get their dream job, and they were rightfully upset... I wouldn't say "you're upset because you didn't get your own way, don't take it out on me". . . See what I mean? It doesn't even work like that. Nothing does. And who am I to judge them or tell them how to act?

Two people in my life have said it; which is what got the ball rolling in my head. First off someone said, I was a 'young woman who was not going to get her way so therefore used words to hurt people in a way to get her own way'. Oh yep, sure thing! Does not make sense in the first place, and it's completely belittling to be thought of in this way, but whatever makes you feel better.

She thought that what I wanted (and what 'my way' was,) was my father to be on board with my pregnancy, but he wasn't/isn't. And I wholeheartedly expected what happened the night I told him; a full on freak out, and me trying to keep it together. I had no expectations apart from the above, and I didn't have a 'vision' or a 'hope' in this situation. I had decided to keep my baby, and push through other peoples problems; for the first time in my life they were not mine. After I told my father, his partner, babies dad (the one who all these posts are about), and my close family friend (who lives a while away and I see the ducks on the way there:) ), I sent them all a joint email outlining why I was upset/happy with the way I had been treated over the past few weeks concerning my pregnancy. In my mind, I was treated like a child and no matter what I said or did, I wasn't going to be taken seriously or treated with respect. As per usual; I was the problem.

I told my father the day I found out. It was a giant shock to me, because I have PCOS (google it) and Endometriosis (google that too) and I was told my chances of conceiving naturally were slim to none. I conceived on the pill, FYI. So I was in a state of shock, excitement (of seeing my 6week old baby and her heartbeat on the screen when I was meant to be seeing cysts on my ovaries), nervousness and fear of telling babies father.

Anyway that's enough of that. Back to where I was before.

"My own way" in all of this was to continue with my pregnancy and not terminate just because people thought it was 'the logical thing to do'.

I have never done the logical thing, I have done what appeared to be the right thing at the time. I have no regrets whatsoever. I don't bite my tongue unless it's something extremely rude and not necessary, or not the best place to say it. I don't hold back in telling people how I feel because at the end of the day, I go to sleep with my own feelings and my own heartache.

No one else takes it away for me.

The 'adults' and people in my life have caused me enough heartache and it's all been my fault apparently but the point in all this is that it's MY life, MY hopes, MY dreams, MY 'way'. I've had to deal with my own, my parents have had their own and never really been too concerned with mine even if they caused it. So why should I be concerned with theirs right now when I have enough going on?

The title of this post is '2 outta 3 ain't bad'; and yes it's the Meatloaf song.
1 of 3 being that I kept my baby girl, and that was my vision, hope, dream & way.
2 of 3 being that I am free. Free from being controlled, and watched, and criticised. I am 19, my age still involves the word 'teen' but in saying that, I know a good few people who are over 40 who act younger than myself; not naming names or anything:). I am on my own, with my beautiful little Peach. And we only need people who love us and respect us.

3 of 3 being that I didn't get to work on the relationship with my babies dad. He is my soul mate, my best friend, my lover. We were made for each other but sometimes things just don't work out. Moving on is one thing, but accepting it is another. I'm getting there.

My father got his way in life. My mum didn't get hers. My babies dad hasn't gone through enough of life to say it's either been his way or not.

So far I have had things 'my way' and then I haven't. I left school (because I wanted to) but it was because of my anxiety and depression. I went straight into full time work (because I wanted to), loved it, but mentally I wasn't ready for the huge change. I was diagnosed with PCOS at age 16, after 4 years of torture every random month that my period decided to come. I had to leave 'home' at 16 (because I wanted to) but it was because I couldn't live with my own mother or father. I could go on and on but you get the idea.

Basically I'm saying that some of us who strive to live out our dreams; can hurt people in the process. They can be so determined to reach the goal with a rock hard arm and hand, that they hit people on the way. They can see ONE GOOD THING in the future and miss out on all the better (and sometimes bad) things on the way because they think they will hold them back. The line between determination and blindness is finer than the line between love and hate.

All I've wanted in life was a family of my own. To be a mother, to my babies; not my parents or myself. I accepted that my dream wasn't going to come easily any time soon because of my PCOS and Endo. But also because the man I love/d, had other plans/dreams/hopes/visions to concur before a/our family. I accepted that and respected it and knew he was determined to make his mark on the world. I still held my dream close to my heart and always had faith that whatever happened would be for the best; not just baby-wise, but all things before that.

And then by some crazy chance, this little miracle came along. I didn't 'keep her' because I wanted my dream to come true; because it hasn't; I haven't got the man I love, therefore I haven't got the dream of my own family. That's where he comes into it saying that 'I haven't got what I want so I'm kicking a fuss'. I think I'm rightfully allowed to kick a fuss when the one person I love has left me and his daughter because he thinks he's not ready.

Life is what happens while you're busy making plans. I didn't plan for her but I didn't plan for him either. Just because I didn't write her into my calendar doesn't mean she doesn't belong in it. I didn't plan to fall in love and to be hurt month after month, year after year. I didn't plan for many things; I didn't plan for my health problems. Neither did my beautiful mum, she didn't plan for her M.S to come along and take her independence away. She didn't plan for the horrible sickness to take over and change her; change her so much she became yet another problem for my father- a problem that wasn't planned for. A problem that marriage vows generally cover, the whole 'in sickness and in health' thing should never be said unless its meant. Just like LOVE; and we're back at the other entries I've written on here.

There are many things and obstacles I did not plan for that have happened in my life. So many of them are barely even MY problems either; they're other peoples issues in my life which I've had to bear the repercussions of.

I've been dealing with life's (albeit unplanned) crap since the day I can remember. I've dealt with mental illnesses in my head and in others. I've dealt with heartache, loss, grief, emotional highs and lows, weight gain, weight loss, violence, lies.... But it doesn't mean I'm superwoman. It means I'm human. We all deal with things. It doesn't make us any better than anyone else. It makes us stronger than before, and more prepared for what comes next- planned or unplanned.

Life is not a competition. Life is what it is. You can plan for sleep ins, but you might wake up and not be able to get back to sleep. You can plan for vacations, but the car breaks down. You can plan for a picnic, but it rains. And you can plan your life, but it doesn't work. Because life doesn't listen. It hears you, but it doesn't have time to listen. It gives you what you need and deserve. End of.

Fog

I had to leave my friends birthday party because of the pure nonsense going through my head.

Don't get me wrong, I like crazy thoughts. I like thinking about the future and my wee girl in my arms, and warm nights with her and I under a blanket. I like thinking about her birthdays and sharing Christmas's with her. But tonight I kept seeing bare legs and thinking about him touching those legs instead of mine. The amount of times I had to close my eyes and hum something to think of a song instead of his voice... Oh my god.

I'm so sick of my brain. I wish I could turn it off. No wonder people turn to drugs.

I've gotten myself through bad days and weeks, but I don't know if I can get through this within weeks. I don't know HOW either. Last time I 'got over him' I had a good(ish) friend who pulled me out of the black hole of heartache every time I stepped into it. It's hard to pull yourself out; it's hard to follow your head when you've followed your heart all along. I suppose it helped meeting new men and realising they're not all heartbreaking jerks. But I can't do that now. I have guys telling me how cute and lovely I am, and they are all interested in bubby but they then say "You don't need him, you're an independent woman and I can tell that just by talking to you"... Which is all very well and true but still, he is the man I went to hell and back for.

I feel like I'm going cold turkey, and the habit is so hard to break. I need a replacement. You know how smokers turn to gum...

I won't turn to food cause it makes me sick. I can't turn to alcohol because it will harm peach. I can't go to the gym like I used to, because of my dicky heart. I can't do anything to vent how I'm feeling apart from cry and it is sending me into the black hole again.

Being out and around people helped/helps but then their voices sound like his, and their eyes become his eyes. I can smell him. My mums hand-wash sent me into a fit of tears yesterday because it smells like his hair product.

I sincerely hope these emotions are pregnancy related and once my girl is here; they will fade.

Being heartbroken and going through heartache is the biggest thing ever, especially for me. It controls me and takes over my life. It influences who I talk to; who I confide in, who I let hear me this weak. And that's a very select few.

I have broken down rarely over the past year. I have kept it all in, or sweat it out. But now the only way out is through my eyes and howling cries. I feel so cold and alone. Yet I'm carrying my baby with me 24/7. I will never be alone again.

On the drive home from my friends 21st; I saw the ducks. Through the darkness and fog of 1am... I saw them asleep together by a tree. That is what gives me hope right now... A pair of paradise ducks under a tree.

We *have* to find hope and base our faith in something; although I'm not one to turn to religion, I think paradise ducks are better to turn to... A bit more 'real' and visible; cold hard evidence. And there is no book written by someone about them.

Time heals all wounds and the more I see those ducks, the more I feel my baby move, the more I watch cat videos, the more I see my friends... The more I will smile.

For now I have to stop myself crying and write on here instead. For now I have to put my phone down when I am tempted to speak to him. For now I have to skip the sad songs and repeat the good ones. And I also need to stop putting my foot down for the adrenalin rush; it's so rebellious (ooo) and it feels so good but I am wasting petrol!

I've been drinking coke all night and eating the most amazing cake ever (sooo good, the icing was just as thick as the cake) and had the best dinner... So there is no room for milky goodness tonight. I have enough in my body, as you know.

It is time for sleep, for peach and I.

The more I try to change, the more I feel the same.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyShbSKAhr8

This ain't a love song, this is goodbye.

My addiction has come to an end.

I don't smoke.

I can't drink (for many reasons; bubby, my face goes red when I do, I turn into an idiot and I don't like the loss of control).
I don't do drugs.

But ...I am guilty for being addicted to love/loving someone, at least.
In my mind it is the worst addiction because it's all I know. Breaking a habit, is impossible.

I've become someone who I'm not.
I've become jealous of the old me.
I've become lost.
I've become a mess...

And I woke up realising it's only me who can fix me. Like all the times I have done so in the past.

When I lost my first baby, when I scarred myself, when I wanted to leave school... Honestly... The list could go on... I just don't know how to put it all into words.

Everytime a big challenge would be done and dusted and 'out of the way'; something would happen in my head. I would relapse into depression and the tumble drier full of emotion.

This time is different though; my heads a mess but I feel scarily comforted by the emotions because there is nothing else to comfort me and hold me in one place. Not anymore.

It was him, but now its me. Even if it's horrible depressing feelings, at least I know they will pass. That is the other part that makes me feel better.

As they say, tomorrow is another day. But it's Sunday. And if you know me; you'll know Sundays have always been a challenge for me. Like it was the calm before the storm as school was the next day. And everyone was doing family things, when I was just stuck by myself. There was nothing on tv and I was always tired.. So it was a downer day.

But my point is that, I got myself through everything else that's happened in my life. This is the biggest thing at the moment, especially before peach is born. I will do it. I can do it.

I woke up this morning in sheer panic and I don't know why. Wait yes I do. Dad came over.

I have my old best friends 21st & dinner to go to tonight. I'm so excited to see her and her family, they've been in my life since I was about 8 or so. Love them all to bits :). Now the hard part; trying to figure out what to wear. JOY. I'm thinking a nice dress I've never had the chance to wear. It's all that really fits now ;)

I'm so hungry but I don't know what I want. Currently I'm chowing down on the chocolates in the box that I don't like... like the "chewy caramels" ew but it's still chocolate.

So, time to start shaving my legs for the boys tonight haha, god, kidding. But still shaving.

I want toasties.

Tears for fears.

How can one, JUST ONE person make me feel like this?

Don't answer that.

How can he make me paralysed?
I could sit in the same spot for hours on end and just think of him.
How can he make me time travel?
To months ago, when I felt different. When we were together and things were okay, maybe not the best but they were okay because I finally felt safe in the relationship.
How can he hurt me so badly with words?
And have it affect me so bad that it can stop me breathing.

Who gets me breathing again? I do. Bubby does. Life does.

Sometimes the reason you ask questions; isn't for the answer. It's for the curious part of your brain that wants to think about it and expand on it, explore the nooks and crannies (believe me there are some dusty nooks and crannies in my head right now). And the answer is always, ALWAYS inside you, somewhere.

Late at night when the city's asleep; when I'm falling into the realm of dreams.... Baby wakes up.

She boots the bejesus out of me and it's SO reassuring. It's so weird that someone so little (us little ones make the big people,big!) can kick and punch so hard, and also tug at my heart (emotionally ofcourse) in more ways than some people ever have. I got her kicking me (on purpose, yes) to Tears for Fears; Everybody wants to rule the world. She's a character.

I love her.

Time for sleep I think.

Stupid reflux is still here :( MILK DOESN'T WORK!

Paradise Ducks

"Pairs remain together from year to year, returning to the same nesting area."
"Paradise Shelducks form long-term pair bonds, often lasting for life."

Over the past few years, there have been a pair of Paradise Ducks that I have driven past... year after year.

Today on my way to visit a friend (who is FINALLY back from London... yay, life can return to what I know as 'normal') and I always see the ducks on the way there. Today they weren't there. I found that somewhat unsettling, because I became a little attached to them.

How amazing would it be to go through life with someone else from the same species; same build, same characteristics...

It doesn't seem that hard so how come barely anyone can do it apart from ducks?

I would LOVE to find my mate and settle down. But I think my idea of settling down is far different to others ideas.

All I have striven for in life is love and happiness.. Yet people think I'm as volatile as a canetoad. Should I dye my hair blonde, tie it in plaits, wear gingham and kiss ass? Nah, I'd rather keep my dark hair, respect those who deserve it, love myself and my baby, stay happy and KICK ass (not everyones...only those whos asses deserve kicking;) ).

I haven't hurt anyone up until now. And it's a bit unfair that the person I'm talking about has been hurting me for almost 2 years. It's irrelevant, and completely in the past. But it sort of sits in my mind sometimes and I can't help that.

I'm far too tired to be writing, I've only had 6 hours sleep and been out all day.

Attached a pic of two gorgeous paradise duckies... Ahhh the simple life; nothing like swimming in your own filth!

I have reflux; I think milk is a good quick fix for it. Will try it ;)