Where I've been (part two)

I spent last week in Canberra, which is the main reason I haven't blogged anything in a while. Yes, they do have the internet in Canberra, so that's not entirely the reason. It's just I didn't really feel like writing while I was there. I was trying to live in the moment and enjoy the precious time I had to spend with Anika and Sasha, who I went especially to visit.

I think it was a good decision not to blog. I think I would have written some sad stuff, late at night, when I was missing home and thinking of how different my trip would have been if I'd had Max with me, which at this time of the year I should have. If he'd been born when he was expected, he should be three months old right now. The sad stuff would not have accurately reflected how I felt to be visiting my dear ones. I was so happy to see them, and so surprised and delighted to see how much my Sasha has grown and matured. I felt like I got to know her again, as the little person she is becoming, as opposed to the baby she was. I think I coped pretty well, but it was a hard trip - my first away from home since Max was born and died. My first time away from Leslie since our lives changed so unexpectedly. I felt OK during the days, but dismally upset at night. It happens like that sometimes. The day takes all you've got and you're scraping the bottom of the barrel of sanity later that night.

I'm very conscious these days that I'm not a 'normal' person to be around anymore. Maybe I will never again be the person I was. I don't know what my friends think about the ways in which I've changed - whether they've noticed or whether I'm the only one that notices. I'm highly emotional, prone to moody bouts of sad and silent reflection, and I tire easily. I could probably say that these things were always true of me, but they do feel different somehow, perhaps magnified. I don't take joy in as many small things as I used to. Sometimes I think I just can't be bothered talking about any of the things I used to talk about or to be interested in any of the things I used to like. You know, just sitting around and chatting about my every thought, or whatever comes into my head. I'm guessing part of this is because I am so often thinking sad and horrible things. It's not that people don't want to hear them, as I'm so lucky to have for my closest friends people who can, and do, listen without judgement. It's just that I feel that it is too much to ask them to listen to the same stuff over and over and over again. I'm embarrassed that I have nothing else to contribute. I don't want the only conversation I'm capable of having to be about Max, or the gaping hole he has left in my life, or about how the world doesn't make any sense to me anymore. But a lot of the time that's just where I am. A lot of the time I spend at home is me sitting on the couch and literally staring at the wall, sighing. I'm sure this doesn't make me a very charismatic or enjoyable house guest, but I tried to do my best. 

Anika and Sasha did extremely well to sit with me through moments of extreme sensitivity and silence. Anika's always been good like that. She's like me in many ways, just happy to have the person she loves in the room, whether they're talking or doing their own thing or not. At least I hope she was, as I don't feel like I brought much fun with me! The most joyous parts of the trip were spent reading stories to Sasha and joining in her many and varied conversations, and on the long walks I took with Anika, which were good for me in so many ways. As always seems to be the case lately, I don't know where the days went. We went shopping a few times, went out for tea a few times, and then it seemed time to come home. Luckily I will get to see them again next month when they come to Melbourne for Anika's graduation, which will be a lovely, happy, exciting occasion, that I'm saving up all of my positive feelings for.

It's late tonight, and I'm tired, and a bit sensitive about it being my birthday tomorrow, so I won't go into the details of the whole trip. After all, at least two of the most important people in my life were already there! They don't need a recap! I will say that I took the train to Canberra, and I will say that I will NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! Stories from the XPT from Melbourne to Sydney could keep me in blog posts for at least the next month. Hell, if I rode it often enough I reckon I could dedicate a separate blog for the plethora of fucking weird and disturbing shit I saw and heard!

A very grown-up looking Sasha:

Things-I-Love-Thursday: The One and Only Sasha

One of the things I love most in this world is this little girl, my dear god-daughter, Sasha.

She's more to me than the honorary title 'god-daughter' suggests. I have a god-mother, but I've only seen her a couple of times in my life. It's so often a cursory title with little meaning, and I guess it has even less meaning to those of us who don't believe in a god and don't plan to shape our god-child in his image. In lieu of a better title, though, it means to me that I am part of Sasha's family and that I am someone special to her.

Sasha holds such a special place in my heart. I've known her since she was only a four or five week old embryo. I remember the day Anika rang to tell me she was pregnant. She'd suspected it a little while beforehand and I remember her mentioning to me, but I didn't give the suspicion that much substance as at that stage I was still of the belief that no one I knew was ready to have babies. It turns out I was very wrong, as Anika started a bout of baby-making that is still continuing to this day!

I was really thrown when she told me the news, torn between being so happy for her and so scared that things were going to change and that I might lose my best friend. I remember sobbing on the phone to my mum, my only explanation being 'Anika's pregnant!' like I'd heard news of a terminal disease. Some of it, was, I think, just envy. I had been single for a long time and had begun to believe that I would always will be. I saw my fertile years whittled away by spinsterhood and really thought that I would not be fortunate enough to have a child; that the option would be taken away from me through age or through never meeting the right person to share that journey with. So, I saw Anika slowly disappearing down a path that I would not be a part of and which would take me away from my most heartfelt friend.

Of course, I should have had more faith in her than that. Anika was never the type to develop that smugness of pregnancy that afflicts so many other women who seem to genuinely believe that being pregnant gives them a special power to be obnoxiously self-centred, and to bore everyone around them with arguments about 'birth choices' and prenatal yoga or nutrition. She not only was the least-annoying pregnant person ever, but I think she recognised my fears even though we probably never spoke about them, and perhaps also feared that she might lose me. I soon realised that she wanted me to be as much a part of her pregnancy, and her baby's life, as she was. The rest, as they say, is history.

We always talked about Sasha like she was a real live person, even though she was probably only a blob of cells at that stage. Anika had dearly hoped for a daughter, and when she found out she was having a girl we were both so very delighted. We imagined that she would be just like us. We pictured taking her to bookshops and cafes, we talked about the beautiful outfits she would wear and how much she would love gluten (as opposed to all the other tots we knew who were suspiciously allergic). I remember Anika eating even more cake than usual and joking that Sasha would be an addicted sweet tooth - a joke that turned into reality!

I'll never forget attending the final ultrasound Anika had quite late in her pregnancy. There was some concern about her growth, I think, as Anika was such a tiny pregnant person - barely ever 'showing' at all until the very end. It was the first ultrasound I'd ever seen and I was so in awe of the little person who appeared on the screen. She had quite the head of hair that I could see and her features were so clear and distinguishable. She was perfect in every way, as she remains to this day.

When I met Sasha for the first time at The Mercy Hospital for Women in Heidelberg I was instantly in tears. I could not believe that this was she; the little one we'd spent so long dreaming of and talking about. Here are some pictures of our very first meeting. I look so happy!

From Day One I was her biggest fan. I've hundreds of photos of the little girl I referred to as 'my baby' and I constantly pestered Anika to let me babysit her. A mere few days after she was born we were out doing our usual thing. We took her to Readings on a chilly winter night, and I remember the lovely man behind the counter asking us if we wanted him to turn the music down so as not to awaken her. Everyone who saw her was smitten!

Everything was as it ever was, I'd had nothing to worry about. Anika was the most relaxed, easy-going mother that we just took Sasha everywhere and did what we always did. She was an incredibly well-socialised baby who'd sleep on our laps in noisy cafes. She never minded where she was or what time it was. She was the most adaptable baby you could imagine - proof to me that motherhood did not have to turn you into a boring, self-obsessed control freak who could not leave the house or answer the phone, or talk about anything other than being a parent.

Sasha was the best baby anyone could ever hope for. Here she is enjoying her first ever babycino with us.

As she's grown, Sasha has become even more beautiful, if that's possible. She was privy to a few professional photo shoots along the way. Here she is on the amazing Art Deco stage at the Ivanhoe Town Hall, looking every bit the artfully posed bohemian baby.

That little baby, within the course of only a year, turned into this little girl. Here she is - the most beautiful toddler you've ever seen - on the occasion of her first birthday. The day was such a thrill for me. I think you'll agree that I look absolutely delighted to be with her.

There are so many reasons I love the little girl she has become. Sasha has such a beautiful heart. She cares for others. When she saw me cry last time she visited she became very concerned and asked her mum if everything was alright. Such amazing empathy for a two year old. She is quiet and thoughtful, and best of all she has the most wonderful imagination. The stories she tells you are so detailed and she loves to tell make believe stories of the lives of all of her toys, especially her 'hop hop' Sylvanian rabbits.

When she plays shops she will tell you how much things cost and whether she has any in stock, though she's often a shrewd business woman. Sometimes she won't sell to you no matter what price you are willing to pay! She loves being the driver of a bus that only ever stops at the mall. You're not allowed to get off anywhere else, nor are you permitted to dawdle getting off when you arrive without falling victim to a stern 'get off now!' In cafes she plays tea parties with her own tea set, and when you ask her if you can have milk for your tea she replies in a bemused tone, 'of course!' like she can't believe you ever thought tea didn't come with milk.

The only thing I don't love about Sasha is that she is so far away from me. I'm always so upset when I see her as she forgets me each time and I worry that she doesn't know that I'm a special person to her anymore. I know this will change as she gets older, but I hate that it has to. I want her and her mummy to be here in Heidelberg Heights with me where they belong, not in stuffy old Canberra! So, Anika and Sasha, if you are reading this, take this as my unwavering, unequivocal opinion that I want you here, even though I've given up begging you to return!

Sasha is such a smart child. I can't wait to see what she becomes. I know that she will bring me much more love and joy as she grows, and I know how much she would have loved to play with Max, and how much he would have looked up to her, and probably would have had his first boyhood crush on her!

Here we are, the three of us, just a month or so ago - so happy to be together again. Sasha, I love you so very much, and I hope you will never have cause to doubt it.