Blogging like no one is reading

Blogging like no one is reading title pic

I came across a blogging friend’s {Peregrination Gourmande} blog post ‘A Blog Challenge’ entitled; Blogging like no one is reading and this intrigued me. The honesty in this blog post inspired me and encouraged me to take on this blogging challenge, albeit a bit late for the Blog Exchange from Agent Mystery Case, but better late than never, I’ve always said. So, today I am writing this blog post like no one is reading it. I’m writing straight from the heart. i know that a lot of people do blogging for other reasons and I know that some people might use a system like WordPress Hosting – free wildcard SSL cert. it all depends on what you want it for. For me, it was never about the money I just needed to write everything that I was feeling.

I’ve contemplated writing this blog post for so long now but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Firstly, because it’s so personal and as an introvert I’m extremely private and really don’t like sharing my personal life. and feelings with just anyone let alone on the internet for the whole world to read. And secondly, because this blog was always aimed at being about my love and inspiration of Indonesia with the main focus on Languages Education, travel and art, not a personal blog.

But today I want to write like no one is reading…write from the heart. Write like I used to do back in the days when I was a teenager and would spend many hours writing poetry and short stories that no one would read. I would advise anyone starting a blog to try and write like this as much as possible, and I would also advise checking out things such as best wordpress hosting providers, as they can be hugely helpful when creating your blog. You might be interested in a service provider, you might be able to use something like https://www.hostiserver.com/ to help you along your way. Anyway, today I want to write about a day that turned dark and turned my whole world upside down.

Back in 2013 I unexpectedly fell pregnant, at first it was such a shock as it was not on my agenda at all! I felt that I would never fall pregnant and that my clock had well and truly ticked over and being a mother was not part of my journey…but I also felt such joy at this surprise! I was secretly filled with so much excitement; I was finally going to be a mother.

As my excitement grew, I began to tell a few close family and friends, hell, how could I hold onto this exciting news and not tell anyone, especially my nearest and dearest?

In my work world, I kept it a secret, except for one dear friend in the office who I told everything to and it was so exciting to share everything with her {thank you Sarah for always listening and for all your support!}. But as for everyone else, they knew nothing. I tried my best to hide my morning sickness and queasiness, my cravings and constant snacking and even the fact that I was gaining weight and my clothes were becoming quite tight on me. I’d make excuses for my absences at work {when I had medical appointments or I was just plain tired and sick and needed a day off!} and my endless tiredness.

Words can’t explain the feelings I had when at six weeks I had my first scan…to see and hear that tiny heart beat…a new life inside of me and things suddenly started to feel very real. My life was about to change and I was so ready for this change {well, kind of!}…oh so very excited for this new phase in my life, I’d waited a long time for this.

At my ten week mark, I had my first appointment with my obstetrician, I was nervous and excited all at once. I left work early and headed to the hospital, keen to see my little one on the scanning screen again to make things feel oh so real again.

But…it was this day that everything changed in the blink of an eye…my scan showed that there was no heartbeat…everything turned so still…like time stopped right there and then…I felt paralysed…I couldn’t speak. After a couple of scans I was told I’d had a missed miscarriage…a what?! I hadn’t even heard of a missed miscarriage before. Throughout this short lived pregnancy, I had constantly checked for any bleeding every time I went to the toilet {I’m sure every pregnant woman does this!} or any cramping, I’d had none of this and assumed that all was fine. But it was not fine.

The news of a missed miscarriage tore my heart apart…I was shocked and tearful…I could hardly think straight and yet the conversation with my obstetrician turned straight to the need for surgery and when this could occur…the sooner the better.

I went home with the heaviest of hearts that night…dreams ripped away from me and all so out of my control. There was absolutely nothing I could do. My dear baby was dead inside of me and I felt sick to the stomach. Devastated and distraught, feeling like I had done something wrong and that it was all my fault. Why had this happened to me? Especially after waiting for so many years to fall pregnant.

A thought that recurred over and over in my mind was that the dream of motherhood was over, I was 39, {in a few months time I’d be 40!} and truly felt like this was my one and only opportunity of falling pregnant. What are the chances of falling pregnant again at age 40?

I went through the motions of what I had to do; emergency surgery the following day…such an awful, heartbreaking day. The grief that hit me that day is indescribable. I’ve experienced grief before, lived it many times in my lifetime; grandparents, aunties, uncles, friends and I had even lost a sibling at a young age but…nothing had ever felt as bad or as painful as losing my baby, losing life inside of me, my flesh and blood and…losing my dreams of becoming a mother. I was totally broken hearted. I took a week off work and cried for a week, it didn’t make me feel any better.

Grief quote blog

I went back to work, forcing myself back into the real world, as loved ones told me that work would keep me busy and distract my mind. In the office I went through the motions of the daily grind with heartache and vacant eyes. I didn’t want to be there, I felt like nothing even mattered anymore. I couldn’t care less about finishing projects, meeting deadlines and answering phone call queries – these trivial tasks meant nothing to me anymore. There was so much more to life than this.

Numerous colleagues questioned me about my absence from work, my emergency surgery that they had heard about…how could I tell them that I had lost my baby {a baby they didn’t even know existed!}, that a precious little life had been lost without breaking down in tears. And yet my silence was tearing me apart inside anyway. I went on in this nightmare state in the office for quite some time, I became reclusive and couldn’t wait for the end of each working day so that I could go home and cry and grieve in solitude, behind closed doors.

I know some people saw the change in me over those weeks and months. How could they not…all my joy in life had dissipated. I didn’t even feel like me…I felt like I had lost myself the day I found out that I had lost my baby. I wasn’t me anymore. My innocence had totally gone.

Why is it that I couldn’t tell people, and not just work colleagues, but also close friends and family too, that I had had a missed miscarriage? Why is it that miscarriage is a taboo subject when the statistics say that one in four women in Australia miscarry? Perhaps even more, due to the fact that most women don’t talk about it and it may not have been medically reported or recorded. Such a common occurrence for women and yet it’s not spoken about.

That little heartbeat, a tiny living entity that no one knows about and therefore when it is lost, it’s not talked about, no funeral is held and no sympathy shared. It’s like a dark secret that ebbs away at your heart.

Even looking back now on those events, I know I will never be the same again. Apart of me changed, my life changed.

Months after my miscarriage I had a follow-up appointment with my obstetrician, I remember sitting in her office crying, I couldn’t hold the tears back as all the past memories came flooding back of that terrible day that I had first walked into her office. I couldn’t let the hurt go…and yet I just wanted to put it behind me and forget it even happened and this made me feel even sadder to not want to remember my little baby that wasn’t meant to be. My obstetrician told me to give it a year and if I didn’t fall pregnant again then I should come back and discuss IVF options with her. I had already made up my mind that I didn’t really want to go down that path. Apart from the huge expense involved in IVF, I was too scared of more heartache. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, to start dreaming of what could be, to just be let down again with heartache. I also felt that if it was meant to be then it would happen naturally, and if not then I would just have to accept my fate. I walked out of her office with a heavy heart all over again and resigned myself to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen for me, that perhaps it just wasn’t my destiny to become a mother. I would focus on other things; my career, travel, art…all the things I enjoyed in life. Although I would also live with a tiny piece of my heart missing for the loss of my first baby.

Moving forward…

Nearly two years to the exact day that I fell pregnant the first time, I found myself doing another home pregnancy test. I didn’t really think that I was pregnant…I didn’t think it was at all possible, especially as I was 42 years old. I just wanted to rule out the possibilities to a few niggling health issues. To my absolute shock and surprise…the test was positive. I can’t tell you how long I sat on the toilet not believing my eyes, not believing it was possible, swearing out of pure shock and crying my eyes out.

The next eight months proved to be a very stressful time for me; filled with so much fear of losing another baby. Scared to believe my dreams could come true only to be broken with disappointment and heartache again if I was to have another miscarriage. I kept my pregnancy a secret until I was well into my second trimester. I was scared to share the news publicly, I was scared to jinx everything. So, so very scared!

To cut a long story short; eight months on and I now have my little man, Sebastian Jaya, in my arms. It’s taken me nearly a whole year to realise that I didn’t have enough faith. A HUGE lesson for me.

Faith quote blog

Although I did have some health issues late in my third trimester, my baby was healthy but as for me, not so. I was the one that was a concern to my obstetrician. And we went through the difficult decision of deciding that my baby {or more me} wasn’t going to make it to full term.

At 36 weeks and 3 days my little man made his appearance into the world on 20 October 2015. And even now that he is 6 weeks old {gestational age of 42 weeks} I still can’t quite believe he is here with us. I feel so incredibly blessed…he is my little miracle man. So very precious to me. Sometimes I watch him sleep for hours, just taking every inch of him in and etching it into my mind and sometimes when I am breast feeding him, tears well up in my eyes. Tears of joy that he is here and he is healthy. It really is amazing. And I will forever be grateful for this opportunity to be his mama. He is the most beautiful thing that I have ever created. I will cherish him always.

Seb pic square for blog
‘Sebastian Jaya Pridham’

Of course, I will never forget the loss and pain of losing my first baby but I now believe that that little baby just wasn’t meant to be for this world. And I have now been blessed with my little Sebastian Jaya and I just love him to bits. And with this, I begin a new journey of ‘mamahood’. Ready to learn all I have to learn…and there’s a lot to learn!

{I’m pondering whether to include my ‘mamahood’ journey here on the blog. What do you guys think? I’d love to share my journey and also to have a space to keep the memories of each step along the way, more for me than anyone else really.}

*I give thanks to my obstetrician, Dr Amber Moore, who supported, cared and advised me throughout my pregnancy journey and ensured that my little miracle man arrived safely into the world. Amber, you are an absolute blessing and I’m so very, very grateful to you.

Have you ever lost a baby? Did you keep it a deep, dark secret from the world?

Feel free to share your loss in the comments below.

I believe by sharing our loss we will perhaps feel that we are not so alone.

Comments

  1. Peregrinationgourmande says

    Beautiful and sad sharing. S J is so lucky to have you too. Go on with more personal stuff. It s great sharing. Your friend. Cathy xx

  2. Sarah says

    Awww this is so well written honey! I was honoured to be there for you during that time beautiful friend. Reading this has brought tears of sadness and tears of pure joy. I know how hard that would have been to share. You’re a gorgeous brave soul. I’m beyond happy for you and your precious little family . Lots and lots of love. Sarah xo

    • indospired says

      Thanks so much Sares! You truly were a saviour for me at that time, not sure what I would have done without you to confide in. Work was so many kinds of awful and I wasn’t coping at all. I wouldn’t have survived it all without you! I just hope I can repay the favour one day…I’m always here when you need me! Muah! xxx

  3. 💜 natty says

    Arrgghhhh….. my phone officially sucks. I replied to this the day I got your text but somehow my post disappeared. Every summer we seem to have no internet at home due to the hot freaking weather that does something to our landline so we have no phone or internet… and I’ve been in my hole as I wasn’t coping around Christmas – big surprise eh? No Woodford put me into some sort of void of blackness that is still swallowing me whole but I’m trying to get out. I’ve got M.A.N.G.O.E.S to help get on track this year. I’ll explain that when I have credit. I’ve really missed the last month of little Sebastian’s life journey so I have a bit of catching up to do… His sweet little face greets me as I pass the wall of photos on the way to my room. He really is a delicious little one. I wish I could give him big cuddles.

    I seriously can’t remember the exact words I wrote and I’m sure I won’t be able to get this out eloquently but I’ll try my best to remember what I wrote. …

    Something you keep saying to me is “I realise it’s totally different” or “your situation is worse” etc. etc. I don’t know if I’ve said it enough, I think I’ve said it before though? Loss causes grief. Grief is grief! There seems to be this feeling among society that different types of losses shouldn’t elicit the same response as other losses. What crap! While grieving is an individual process, I do not believe my dear friend, (whom I have neglected and has been visiting in my dreams nearly every night the past three weeks or so) that there different types of grief. Grief really is the loss of something we love – the source of that grief really is irrelevant! What is relevant is how what we share. While it’s an individual journey, even within the same family members experience the same loss differently, (you would know this already); what we share is the experience of a broken heart and the ability to feel compassion for others facing similar journeys.

    Why is it that often when a woman loses her child in pregnancy it is overlooked? It’s not spoken about a lot. Women don’t want to share their journeys for a number of reasons… Losing anyone in your life is hard, so why don’t people understand that losing that heartbeat inside you is just the same.   It’s grief and it sucks. It hurts and it’s hard to come back from.

    So often we are told to keep busy. I honestly believe that keeping busy is just a distraction that buries the pain underneath. You focus all your energy while “keeping busy” your mind isn’t focused as there’s so much going on inside – all these emotions bottling up – and while you are not only physically exhausted from “trying” to pretend everything is okay (“busy is good” mentality) you are on a downward spiral emotionally as you really don’t know how to/ don’t want to allow yourself to feel the pain. The pain freaking hurts after all doesn’t it? I do think this is what was happening for you at the time and the burden I think was heavy so I’m glad you finally shared this. You write beautifully and I know how hard this would have been to share. But I think you needed to. While you will always feel the heartache of the loss of your first, I think that you have come such a long way on your journey. It is easy to think that our grief is just the grief of losing someone we love, our grief is also the pain of the other losses that were a result of the loss. The loss of hope I think especially in your life Jules and I think you have overcome that secondary loss especially. While I’m sure has been painful at times both physically and emotionally at times, your transition into motherhood from this distance seems to be filled with joy, happiness and love.

    While on the subject of grief (and before my “essay” ends) I have to add my other major gripe I have about grief… and that is the myth about time healing all wounds. Seriously if this were true then when someone breaks their leg we would say to them, “It’s alright you don’t need anything as time will heal your leg mate.”

    The losses we have experienced are not going to be healed. They changed life as we knew it one way or another. We will always be heartbroken in some way over our losses.

    Julie you are a beautiful friend whom I love. I have not intentionally been ignoring you please understand I’ve been hiding in my grief. I am struggling with the whole Amélie starting prep as it’s a bit of a secondary loss for me – I kinda lost her “formative years” to grief and fibromyalgia and I also expected that she wouldn’t be my last. So I really am regretting the whole not appreciating that she was the last when she was a baby. I didn’t realise it would be the last time I would breastfeed, the last time I rocked my baby to sleep… etc… etc… Also on another personal note, I have so much stuff to send you. A year’s worth of drawings from my little ones for you as well as something I’ve been meaning to send for a long time and if I don’t soon…. Well then it won’t be of any use. I am hopeless I know. But I need you to text me your address sometime. And last but not least of all, I did have a quick look before I rewrote this at recent photos and posts and oh my…. I really am happy for your little family. Sebastian is just gorgeous. He really is. Amélie wants to know when she can play with him and thinks he’s adorable. She was supposed to start prep today but she’s sick. But do you remember India? How small she was when she started prep? Or any of the other tiny ones like India? Amélie is so like that! Her dress is a size 4 and too big (taken the hem up!), her shoes were the smallest school shoes I could find at the local shopping centre and they are too big (I am taking her to a proper shoe fitting on the weekend in the city) and her hat and bag look way too big on her. It’s so very cute – her bag is nearly as big as her! I miss our chats my beautiful friend and I will endeavour to post and text more. I do love you my leo sister and I think of you all the time, I really have just been hiding this last month and I didn’t know until today that my post didn’t post. I feel bad as I daresay you would think I’m completely ignoring you.

    This took way to long to type on my phone lol I’m terribly slow at smart phone typing xx love you bu xx

    • indospired says

      Not sure where to start with this Natty…thank you for taking the time to read my post and such a lengthy response. I appreciate your time.
      Firstly, M.A.N.G.O.E.S!!! Yay! Yum!! Hope there is some cocktail making going on! Or at least some healthy smoothies!?
      Yes, Christmas is a difficult time when you are missing a loved one {Totally get you disappearing and hiding out over the silly season!}. For the first time in a long time, I felt that Christmas was special again for me…I had my own little miracle baby to hold in my arms! I didn’t want any material gifts, I already got the best gift of my life. I think I finally, now, understand motherhood. I get it now. It’s amazing and beautiful. A true miracle.

      As for grief…totally agree with everything you said; different for each individual and we all deal with it in different ways. I guess it’s learning to deal with it…if that’s even possible but like you said, we will always be heartbroken in our loss. And yep, I needed to write this, as much as it hurt to write and re-live the pain of the whole experience, as a writer I needed to get it out, out of my system, stop hiding the big dark secret that was ebbing away at me…and move on with more positive thoughts. But I also think that I am one of the lucky ones…I miraculously fell pregnant again! My dream did come true…and I still feel for those that the ending to their story may not be like mine. Compassion is ‘key’ I guess when you know the loss and the pain. Thanks again for stopping by my blog Natty, I really appreciate it and sending you hugs and love and light and laughter…coz we all need some of that! xxx

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