I made Beau this little mobile last week...what do you think? It's not going to win any prizes for perfection, but Beau loves it, which is good enough for me.
I had fallen in love with Baby Jives' mobiles, but the problem is, buying stuff from America just works out so frigging expensive that it's really not worth doing, so I figured I would have a shot at making my own. In typical me fashion, I wanted to get started straight away, and was too impatient to get properly prepared. hence using dark grey thread to sew on white fabric :o) I actually used an old vest of Beau's for the cloud part which worked well as it was nice and stretchy and soft. At this point, I realised I didn't have any fabric for the rest of it, so I had to actually go to the haberdashery and buy some (I also picked up some white thread while I was there;o)). As a quick side note, I decided to go to Sewing World in Tunbridge Wells, as it has a good fabric selection, and what an unhelpful bunch they are in there! Jeeeeez. Just so you know, world, when you have to take a double buggy into a shop you feel awkward enough, without getting shifty sideways glances and absolutely no offers of help whatsoever from the staff...so thanks for that...
Anyway, I got home and finished the mobile over the weekend. I could have spent a load more time on it and made it all perfect and what not, but that's not really my style, so there it is. I love it, Beau loves it, job done.
So you might be thinking...what has all that got to do with deep sea divers?? Nothing. I'm getting to that bit.
Deep Sea Divers is a song by one of my very favourite bands, Darwin Deez, and I think it seems to be about depression. I feel a lot like a deep sea diver today, well, at the moment in general actually.
You see, I'm feeling low, very low. I also feel like I'm wearing this heavy suit of stress which is keeping me down here, and I'm finding it somewhat difficult to breathe. But while I'm swimming around down here in my little pool of self loathing and self pity, I can still see all these beautiful sights swimming all around me, and realise I should be concentrating on these instead, but I just can't un-fog my mask at the moment.
It's largely this whole not being pregnant thing. I've always been a very obsessive person, and once I have something in my sight, I obsess over it d a y a n d n i g h t. I'm also horribly impatient. I know that I have no right to be. People wait years for babies, and we've only been actively trying for a few months. But I suppose because Beau was unplanned, I just assumed that we were super fertile and it would happen straight away, no questions asked. How wrong was I?
There's also the matter of my sister not talking to me at the moment. She's pissed off with me for not being as excited as she thinks I should have been over her being pregnant. You remember that Pregnancy Envy post I wrote a little while ago? Yeah that was about her. Turns out I wrote that at the end of January, and here we are in mid March and she has barely spoken to me since. You see, when she told me she was pregnant, I guess she caught me off guard. I had just had my first chemical pregnancy, and although I knew she was trying too, I guess I just wasn't expecting her to tell me she was pregnant so soon. I was sitting in my car when she told me, outside her house. I was dropping Ivy off, and Beau was asleep in the back. As soon as I drove away from her house, the tears started to fall down my cheeks. As I said in my previous post, I couldn't help the way I reacted. I didn't want to feel that way, and I was genuinely happy for her, but that's just how I reacted. I'm not going to apologise for it, because I haven't done anything wrong. Since then, Ive found out (not from my sister, because obviously she's not actually speaking to me) that she thinks I should have been more excited for her, I should have asked more questions about it, and I could have at least pretended to be more excited...
When she was about 7 weeks pregnant, she thought she was having a miscarriage, as she was having some bleeding. I sent her a few texts saying I hoped everything was OK etc, and she said she didn't really want to talk to me about it, fair enough. While all this was going on, James and I took Ivy over to my Dad's so she could have a day of rest (Jim was away skiing), and that evening, I got a positive pregnancy test. I should have been excited, but after the chemical pregnancy the previous month, I couldn't be. And I was also thinking how awful I would feel if Becs did have a miscarriage and I was pregnant, but how lovely it would be if everything was ok with both of us, maybe this mess could all blow over?
The following day, on the Monday, Becs had a scan at the epu and they confirmed everything was fine. They saw the heartbeat, and all was well. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The day after that, on the Tuesday morning as I was getting ready for work, I had my second chemical pregnancy miscarriage, my third miscarriage in 6 months. For anyone who says that a chemical pregnancy isn't a miscarriage, fuck you. You try going through it when you desperately want a baby, and tell me it doesn't feel every bit as much of a loss as a miscarriage two weeks later, when it is no longer classed as a chemical pregnancy.
The following Monday, I saw into Becs, Jim and Ivy in the Sainsbury's car park. I went over to say hello and they told me they had just come back from having another scan which they had paid for privately, but that everything was still fine. As we were chatting, it seemed appropriate to tell them that I'd had another miscarriage the week before. Becs asked me how far along I'd been, and I said I had got the positive test two days before the miscarriage started. "Oh, so it was just another chemical pregnancy then" she responded. Yeah. I guess it was. Who gives a fuck then, it's only a stupid fucking chemical pregnancy, that means nothing. You're not even properly pregnant yet at that stage are you.
And we've barely spoken since, except a hello and goodbye here and there when she picks Ivy up or if I see her when I pick Beau up from mum's. And you know what? I can't ever see us being friends again. I really don't need a friend who has absolutely no regard for my feelings or what I'm going through. For the sake of our other family members, I hope we can get to a stage where we don't make other people feel awkward when we are around each other, as I know this is all quite hard on my mum at the moment. But I can't see a way this is ever going back to the way it used to be. It's kind of sad.
And here is the song. Enjoy. xo
Anyway, I got home and finished the mobile over the weekend. I could have spent a load more time on it and made it all perfect and what not, but that's not really my style, so there it is. I love it, Beau loves it, job done.
So you might be thinking...what has all that got to do with deep sea divers?? Nothing. I'm getting to that bit.
Deep Sea Divers is a song by one of my very favourite bands, Darwin Deez, and I think it seems to be about depression. I feel a lot like a deep sea diver today, well, at the moment in general actually.
You see, I'm feeling low, very low. I also feel like I'm wearing this heavy suit of stress which is keeping me down here, and I'm finding it somewhat difficult to breathe. But while I'm swimming around down here in my little pool of self loathing and self pity, I can still see all these beautiful sights swimming all around me, and realise I should be concentrating on these instead, but I just can't un-fog my mask at the moment.
It's largely this whole not being pregnant thing. I've always been a very obsessive person, and once I have something in my sight, I obsess over it d a y a n d n i g h t. I'm also horribly impatient. I know that I have no right to be. People wait years for babies, and we've only been actively trying for a few months. But I suppose because Beau was unplanned, I just assumed that we were super fertile and it would happen straight away, no questions asked. How wrong was I?
There's also the matter of my sister not talking to me at the moment. She's pissed off with me for not being as excited as she thinks I should have been over her being pregnant. You remember that Pregnancy Envy post I wrote a little while ago? Yeah that was about her. Turns out I wrote that at the end of January, and here we are in mid March and she has barely spoken to me since. You see, when she told me she was pregnant, I guess she caught me off guard. I had just had my first chemical pregnancy, and although I knew she was trying too, I guess I just wasn't expecting her to tell me she was pregnant so soon. I was sitting in my car when she told me, outside her house. I was dropping Ivy off, and Beau was asleep in the back. As soon as I drove away from her house, the tears started to fall down my cheeks. As I said in my previous post, I couldn't help the way I reacted. I didn't want to feel that way, and I was genuinely happy for her, but that's just how I reacted. I'm not going to apologise for it, because I haven't done anything wrong. Since then, Ive found out (not from my sister, because obviously she's not actually speaking to me) that she thinks I should have been more excited for her, I should have asked more questions about it, and I could have at least pretended to be more excited...
When she was about 7 weeks pregnant, she thought she was having a miscarriage, as she was having some bleeding. I sent her a few texts saying I hoped everything was OK etc, and she said she didn't really want to talk to me about it, fair enough. While all this was going on, James and I took Ivy over to my Dad's so she could have a day of rest (Jim was away skiing), and that evening, I got a positive pregnancy test. I should have been excited, but after the chemical pregnancy the previous month, I couldn't be. And I was also thinking how awful I would feel if Becs did have a miscarriage and I was pregnant, but how lovely it would be if everything was ok with both of us, maybe this mess could all blow over?
The following day, on the Monday, Becs had a scan at the epu and they confirmed everything was fine. They saw the heartbeat, and all was well. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The day after that, on the Tuesday morning as I was getting ready for work, I had my second chemical pregnancy miscarriage, my third miscarriage in 6 months. For anyone who says that a chemical pregnancy isn't a miscarriage, fuck you. You try going through it when you desperately want a baby, and tell me it doesn't feel every bit as much of a loss as a miscarriage two weeks later, when it is no longer classed as a chemical pregnancy.
The following Monday, I saw into Becs, Jim and Ivy in the Sainsbury's car park. I went over to say hello and they told me they had just come back from having another scan which they had paid for privately, but that everything was still fine. As we were chatting, it seemed appropriate to tell them that I'd had another miscarriage the week before. Becs asked me how far along I'd been, and I said I had got the positive test two days before the miscarriage started. "Oh, so it was just another chemical pregnancy then" she responded. Yeah. I guess it was. Who gives a fuck then, it's only a stupid fucking chemical pregnancy, that means nothing. You're not even properly pregnant yet at that stage are you.
And we've barely spoken since, except a hello and goodbye here and there when she picks Ivy up or if I see her when I pick Beau up from mum's. And you know what? I can't ever see us being friends again. I really don't need a friend who has absolutely no regard for my feelings or what I'm going through. For the sake of our other family members, I hope we can get to a stage where we don't make other people feel awkward when we are around each other, as I know this is all quite hard on my mum at the moment. But I can't see a way this is ever going back to the way it used to be. It's kind of sad.
And here is the song. Enjoy. xo
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