baybeasts

Sorenson is eight weeks pregnant - due the last day of winter. Wynntar for a boy / Wintah for a girl?
She has been feeling beyond dreadful - physically and mentally, so we are getting her some professional help. She has felt a bit better since realising that a component of her anxiety is probably pregnancy induced. The six week scan was a bit too early to see a clear heartbeat, so I am hoping we have another peek at ten weeks.

Please send your thoughts, if you will.

http://sesameseedsized.blogspot.com/

We have just come back from a whirlwind trip to Brisbane for a funeral (my grandfather) and an engagement party (my cousin). Here’s a picture of Stan and his family. He was my Mum’s Dad. I had to give part of the eulogy with 5 minutes to prepare and two toddlers calling out to me across the chapel. “Where’s dead Stan?”

As I had no father or siblings, Stan was the most important man in my life as I grew up. He taught me to ride a bike and catch a ball. He tickled me too hard and too long when I was little. He showed me I could drive down super steep hills and around big scary roundabouts. We fought constantly and as a teenager I often avoided his company. But when I cut off my hair in my early twenties and started bringing home women, he never treated me any differently. One of the last big conversations I heard him have (and these were quite rare), was with S about 6 years ago. She talked with him about the war and about his career in the public service. He deliberately retired early at a time when jobs were few and younger folk were in danger of being retrenched. He tickled too hard. But he always meant well.

And so. S had a chemical pregnancy, poor bugger. It’s a bloody awful feeling. That brings our combined total to 10 failed IVF cycles this year, including a cancelled cycle, a miscarriage/D&C and 3 chemical pregnancies. I just heard that our IVF company will let us know tomorrow if they have enough xmas staff to allow S to cycle over Dec/Jan. I will be so glad when we never have to deal with them ever again.

grandfather died
febrile child
boiling water down my thigh

birthday wee on potty with birthday banana smoothie face

blowing out the candles - it was the only time he let us sing happy birthday (we tried all day!)

so much huey love

2009

bean jan - fet - bfn
bean mar - fet - bfn
bean apr - fet - bfn (early chemical?)
bean jun - fet - cycle cancelled - multinucleated embryo
bean july - stim flare, blast transfer - bfn
sorenson july - fet - 8 week miscarriage, d&c
bean sept - fet blast - bfn (chemical)
sorenson oct - fet - bfn
bean oct - stim antagonist 2 blasts transferred - bfn (chemical) nothing to freeze
sorenson nov - fet - ?
bean dec - ?
sorenson dec - ?

We’ll try for one more year

S took the kids to Piggy’s fourth birthday party at the weekend while I was at work. They all had so much fun - all the kids got to make, decorate and cook their own humongous cookie. When they were leaving the party (clutching their beloved baked goods), Pcat gave them each handmade aprons. We’ve hardly managed to get them off since. They are beautiful and practical, and the party and aprons have inspired all of us to do more cooking together.

I will never forget how lucky I am.

Bean and I have started working part-time. This means that for the first time, pretty much, we’re spending whole days on our own with both kids. Today, while Huey had one of his rare long daytime sleeps (nearly three hours rather than the usual one and a half), Arlo and I hung out for a bit. I stapled some paper together to make a little book, and he spent a happy half hour putting stickers in it (and on his hand, his clothes, the floor, and me). After a little while he looked up at me and said ’sticker book for bean’. ‘Are you making this book for bean?’ I asked. ‘Yah’.

When bean came home I was in the bedroom with Huey, and I felt bad because I wasn’t there to remind him to give her the book. But when she opened the door he was standing there with his little sticker book in hand. He remembered all by himself.

Later, at dinner, he was playing with our names as he often does. ‘Mummy-baba. Bean-mum.’ Then he looked thoughtful, and said ‘Ayo yuv baba-mum. Ayo yuv bean-mum. Ayo yuv Huey.’ And we love you too, Arlo, oh yes we do.

The other day I stumbled across this in the kitchen.

I knew that the artist must be Huey. He has a thing about those tuna tins. There are a lot of tins in that cupboard, but they are the only ones he ever gets out.

His creativity extends to dance and music too. Check out his moves.