A year ago today, I was sat in a waiting room on the delivery suite at my local hospital, waiting nervously to begin the process of induction that would bring this beautiful little boy safe into my arms.
Today I'm typing with him snuggled up on my lap and snoring.
We wont have much time tomorrow for Birthday posts, we'll be celebrating at my brothers wedding,but I wanted to take a little moment today just for Ernest.
He's changing into a fun little toddler, adored by the whole family.
He loves to clap his hands when we sing "If you're happy and you know it", and nod his head too...actually he nods his head to any questions, including the random silly questions from his biggest sister, "Ernest, are you a baby vampire?"...lots of nodding!
He loves to let the chickens out every morning with Daddy, and excitedly says "chick chick".
He's a busy baby, always exploring, yesterday I turned my back for a few moments to sort laundry and found him having fun with a tub of bread flour. (I did tell you our kitchen is all in boxes right now didn't I?)
He was so engrossed in play, I didn't have the heart to clean up straight away, and snapped some piccies instead while he played...maybe an indulgence only the youngest of six gets to enjoy.
It feels like I've been waiting for July for so long,catching up with my shadows. It's not an easy month, but I'm glad of it. Sometimes I want it to always be July.
Sid had a birthday. He's six, unyet all day I kept thinking he was four, but of course knowing he was actually six.
Ernest will be one on Saturday, and my brother is getting married the same day.
I've finished my dress,(no completed piccies yet) but Ernest's outfit is still in pieces, and I have to try and squeeze around the boxes containing our new kitchen to sew it up before the weekend!
So, I'm here, squeezing past boxes, and getting on, and meeting with ghosts, but mostly trying hard to keep a lid on everything, and I think I'm doing ok.
She's been a right stroppy hen these past few days, I knew she must be about to lay, and today she did. a perfect beautiful rather little egg.
I fried it. (this is the non photoshopped pic, there was a blood spot.)
Three children shared it.
What a clever hen!
I've been wanting to try this Colette pattern for a while, and with my brother's wedding approaching, I had the perfect excuse for a new dress.
I'd heard the Colette patterns were good for us curvier ladies, and that certainly seems to be true of this design.
I cut out the size 14 (US) , and it fits really well across the bust, unlike most patterns which require a full bust adjustment if you are over a c cup.
I did have to take in about a cm in the side seams of the upper bodice, and about 4 cms off the waist and hips, but that was simple.
I also switched the gathered sleeves for a simple cap sleeve because I really don't like gathered sleeves on me, I think coupled with my boobage and my fat upper arms, gathered sleeves just make me look butch.
I wahttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifs really concerned about making 16 buttonholes down the front opening of this dress,but using my automatic buttonhole foot saved me much swearing. Why on earth I've not used it before, I can't think. I didn't even think to use it when I was making Heather's wedding dress.
Ordinarily, I don't think I would've chosen this fabric, but I think it works pretty well. I wanted something darker and with a softer drape, but this was in my stash and in the interests of saving money,I thought I'd give it a go.
I think I should've gone with my first plan of using brown piping along the midriff seams, and possibly the yoke seams, but I didn't have any, and wanted to get on...
I'm probably going to finish the hem with some brown velvet or grossgrain ribbon.
The buttons are covered, and I'm planning to sew those on tonight.
Hopefully I can get some better piccies in a few days when it's completely finished. Meanwhile these self taken ones will have to do. I did ask Woody to take some, but he focused in rather too much on the boob area...
All in all though, a great pattern, I'll probably make it again, and will definately be trying some of the others, I've got "Crepe" to try out next.
1. Attempting to avoid notice or attention, typically because of guilt or a belief that discovery would lead to trouble; secretive.
I don't know if this is normal amongst babyloss parents, and maybe I'll regret outing myself here,but I am guilty of furtively browsing the internet, and scrutinising photos of baby girls. I don't really go looking for them, but if I happen upon a cute photo of a little girl who might be around the same age Florence would be now, I'll look closer...I'll wonder if that little girl has longer hair than Florence would by now,would I be able to put a little bow in it? Would Florence still have that touch of red in her hair? Would her eyes be bluer than the little girl I'm looking at, her wrists chubbier?
I feel kinda guilty doing this, like I'm stealing little bits of little girls and trying to build my own, make her alive, Maybe that's how Mary Shelley (a fellow babyloss Mama) felt when she wrote Frankenstien?
I know this little excercise is futile, I can't make Florence alive again, and honestly it's not usually an enjoyable past time, it stabs at my heart,but I still do it.
Yesterday, I almost came undone because of it. I clicked on a link,a little toddler in a beautiful little dress, and little red shoes. I told myself I wanted a closer look at the dress, research you see for future pattern drafting. I clicked through several photos,looking at seam details, and wondering to myself, then it hit me, the caption, the little girl in the photo with the chubby wrists, and the bow in her hair was called Florence. I had to steady myself by holding on to my desk, as the room span and I tried to stop the tears from springing to my eyes.
Regaining my composure,I scolded myself for looking,but since that moment,I've felt so guilty, and so very stupid.
I can't conjure her up,I can't know how she would've been, I can only know what she was,but that was so brief.
I look at her photos every day, sometimes I examine every little crease on her face and fingers, and sometimes it hurts too much to look too closely.
I expect I'll always look just a little bit too long, and a little bit too longingly at girls the age she should be, and I guess it'll always sting just a little to hear her name belonging to someone else.
A recent online discussion amongst exclusively pumping Mamas made me re think my reluctance to have many photographic reminders of this, our way of feeding.
I still have a tremendous amount of guilt and sadness surrounding my inability to breastfeed Ernest, but reading about the experiences of others who have come to the end of their pumping times, and how they wish they'd had more photographic proof of their efforts, has encouraged me today to take some photos.
This, dear readers is my freezer stash. There is six months worth of hard hard work here...and there's more in the fridge.
I haven't had spare milk to freeze since the end of March. These days I seem to have the supply and demand thing going fairly smoothly. Pumping around 800 mls a day, and Ernest drinking all of that.
This stash is my insurance policy.
I also decided this morning that considering the work that went into making and pumping this milk, it deserved a bit more respect than just dumping in bin liners and chucking in the freezer.
I saw this great link for storing breastmilk, and thought I'd give it a go.
Unfortunately, I hadn't frozen all of my milk flat, but I have about a million gift bags, and decided to use those for storage instead of the nasty bin liners anyway.
This is much neater.
You know, it's funny, I hadn't realised just how much milk there was in my freezer. Rearranging it all made me quite proud of myself.
And just for fun, here is a pic India took of Ernest yesterday, licking the drips on the pumping flange, after I'd finished!
I'm a bit lost for words lately. Life around here goes on in it's everyday busy way, and for that I'm grateful.
We have a month of birthdays ahead of us, and of course that is on my mind. Sid will turn 6, Ernest will turn 1, and there will be another year marked without Florence.
We are looking forward to the summer holidays. We have nothing much planned,but it will be nice to not have to think about school for a while.
I'm easing myself back into working, though of course there is never enough time in the day to get as much done as I'd like.
These dungarees did finally make it into my store this afternoon, after a week of waiting to be listed.
I'm still battling the comfort eating. (I keep trying to write something about that,but can't quite get there.), and even
Ernest and I hit the 11 month exclusive pumping mark the other day. He's eating more these days and I'm down to pumping only six times a day,around 800mls a day.
It's looking likely we'll make our second target of 1 year, though I never take anything for granted anymore. I still hope I can at least provide breastmilk for him until he's two.
So yep, life goes on....
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There is more to come, bloomers, dungarees, trousers, for boys and for girls. I even have some pretties for Mummy in the pipeline.
Another trip to B&Q beckons this morning!
I've got loads of sewing to be getting on with over the next few weeks, and having now moved my machines downstairs I might actually get some done. I can't work upstairs with Ernest under my feet, it's too cramped and dangerous. So my sewing desk is now our computer desk, and our computer desk is now my sewing desk downstairs.
I'm also getting my needles out to start knitting the lovely "Ernest" gansey in the latest edition of The Knitter Magazine. The very talented, Caroline designed it and named it after my Ernest, so I absolutely have to knit it up.
I've been having a tidy up around the blog too,some people may have noticed that my freebie pattern links down there on the left had stopped working, that's all fixed now, but let me know if you still have any problems.
I've also added some of my free patterns to Patternspot a great new site with lots of patterns ready to download. (And if you've used one of my freebies and want to leave me a review on the site, I'd be super happy.)
And because I can't possibly have a blog post without a photo, here are India and Ernest sharing a new game of peepo!
***
Twenty Two months and five days.
I miss her.
I think of her a million times a day, I'm still half expecting her to come back to me.I still can't quite grasp that forever is forever.
I'm heartbroken.
That's the bare bones of it, but that's not everything.
Mostly it's a good life, Woody and the children anchor me to this life, and there is joy,pure joy. Not something I ever thought there could be again.
"The deeper sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain."
Kahlil Gibran
I remember reading these words on the blog of a friend shortly after Florence died, and another friend reminded me of them again recently. As time goes by they have more and more meaning.
What I've come to realise lately is that there will always be good days and bad days. I will always miss her, my grief for her will always be a part of me, just as my love for her is.
There will always be unexpected triggers in my daily life, but these days they don't always make me cry, sometimes I can smile.
A sunbeam will prompt me to whisper "Is that you love?" and I might feel a moment of warmth.
I feel her with me, so much so, that I'm baffled when others don't see her. Walking to school with the boys, she's there toddling along beside me. In the evenings as I snuggle Ernest down to sleep, I can imagine her lying right there with us, or lately toddling off to the garden with Woody to say goodnight to the chickens.
Yesterday, Woody and I took the boys out to an aquarium for the day. The girls were at school. We felt very strange with just three children with us, but at the same time, it was nice to do something with just the boys.
And then my eye catches a little girl in the cafe, about two years old, her wisps of wavy hair pinned back from her eyes, holding on to her Daddy's hand, and waving to the fish....it's a kick in the guts...she's missing.
Just moments later, another little girl, this time in a wheelchair, severely disabled, her Daddy showing her some little toys from the gift shop, and I feel like the universe is forcing me to see that I don't know what I'm missing. Had Florence survived would that be her life? We'll never know.
Forever is forever, and we'll never know why. We'll never know why her lungs filled with blood and not air. Why she had to leave us....
Damn! I wanted to write something hopeful for those finding their way here soon after their losses, and here I am heading down that same pathway, the one I've gone over and over a million times.
It's complicated this life without her, sometimes I feel there are shadows of myself in different lives, all stemming back to 22nd July 2009. There is a huge part of me still there, willing her to live, hoping for a different outcome, and then I'm here. I see a different me in the mirror, an older, darker, sadder me.
I just miss her. x
This is my favourite spot lately. I'm often found chatting to the hens, but then so is everyone else. One thing for sure is, they wont get lonely!
I will get some sewing done soon hopefully!
I'm partly wanting you to vote for selfish reasons, cos I want to see a babyloss blogger win an award, but mostly because Merry is a wonderful woman, with a great blog and she deserves a little bit of sunshine.
Muriel, Cleo and Erica, our chickens. Erica (above) is posing for you!
I've had a frantically busy busy busy weekend, with Eden's cheerleading competition yesterday, and today I was at a chicken keeping course, and brought home our new girls.
Muriel and Erica.
Erica and Cleo
They are settling in to their new home.
They are not quite ready to lay, but will be soon. I'm very fond of them already, I think we all are.
I spotted this platter in the window of my local charity shop the other day, but the price tag was rather high at £5, so I left it to think about it, telling myself if it was still there by today then it was obviously meant to come home with me.
I spose at least the £5 went to a good cause.
....Elizabeth McCracken, An Exact Replica Of a Figment Of My Imagination.
Most days I guess this is just how it is, today was one of those days. One of those busy days, with too much to do, too much to think about and a deadline to keep, but I still decided to make jam, having never made it before, but reluctant to throw out perfectly good (if a little past it's best) fruit that no one was willing to eat.
I chucked some chopped plums and apples into a pan.
Added rather a lot of sugar.
Left it bubbling away.
And ta da!! Jam!
Angus named it Plapple Jam (Plum and Apple), and the children each made a label.
It was loud, and busy, and chaotic, and fun, ....and she was missing x
