What an amazing statement of faith that is. It overwhelms me everytime I hear people say it. I don't know how much comfort it provides but when people say it with true meaning, just wow. I remeber seeing it on the posters when Bertha died, I remember hearing Benjy say it on the phone when Irving died, I've heard it too often in the past week. It just blows me away.
I spent last night at the shiva for Abby's mum being "on duty". Have we reached this stage in out lives where this is what we do? Monday night I was cooking for a new baby and for a shiva. I was thinking about my mum when I was at Abby's last night. I remember her organising food for people and both my parents going to pay shiva calls. This was the first time I've had to do it for a friend.
The more I see people doing to help Abby the worse I feel about not going over when Aaron was sitting shiva. The help and support Isee people providing. When I saw how Dov was there to help Abby, when a desicion had to be made and she just wanted to check with him first. It brings back all the feelings of desertion that I had when I didn't go to Scotland.
I was speaking to Ruth earlier and she wasn't sure if she would be going to the UK with James for his Dad's funeral. I told her to go. I told her about the pain of being on the other side of the world when you want to be with your husband, I told her about how her feeling count and if she want's to be with the family to say good bye she should. I told her it's one of the hardest desicions and everyone will tell her to do something else. I told her that she will probably feel it was wrong what ever she does.
I told her I was here if she needed me.
We have the luxury of being able to live even if it means living with choices that are hard to make.
We live.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
miscarriage
First your baby dies, then you bleed, then you feel pain, the you know your baby is no more. You bleed like never before. Then it stops and you think it's all over and for a couple of days your clean. Then you bleed some more.
It's not enough that your baby has died, that every time you go to the toilet you are reminded of the death but your body taunts you. You think you are healed, you think the bleeding must be stopping soon but every time you let yourself think this might be over the bleeding comes back the reminder that death came, the reminder that you are not pregnant, that the life that was in you is gone.
Right now I can't imagine ever not thinking about the baby that wasn't, what would have been happening if the pregnancy had continued, how our plans would be different. I worry that I won't ever manage to get pregnant again that easily or even ever. I now know more than ever that I want another child but still don't know if I can cope with months of treatment and failing. I'm a bit scared and feeling rather lost and helpless. Every day seems like forever but I know it's not I just want the bleeding to stop. I've had hard niddah periods before but this is unbearable. It's not a period that I know will usually last 4 or 5 day then the extra 7 and it's not like after birth when the 5 or 6 weeks seems ok because I have a baby to look after and hormones flying all over the place and about a million other things on my mind. This just feels like an undefined interminably long time with no end in sight.
It's not enough that your baby has died, that every time you go to the toilet you are reminded of the death but your body taunts you. You think you are healed, you think the bleeding must be stopping soon but every time you let yourself think this might be over the bleeding comes back the reminder that death came, the reminder that you are not pregnant, that the life that was in you is gone.
Right now I can't imagine ever not thinking about the baby that wasn't, what would have been happening if the pregnancy had continued, how our plans would be different. I worry that I won't ever manage to get pregnant again that easily or even ever. I now know more than ever that I want another child but still don't know if I can cope with months of treatment and failing. I'm a bit scared and feeling rather lost and helpless. Every day seems like forever but I know it's not I just want the bleeding to stop. I've had hard niddah periods before but this is unbearable. It's not a period that I know will usually last 4 or 5 day then the extra 7 and it's not like after birth when the 5 or 6 weeks seems ok because I have a baby to look after and hormones flying all over the place and about a million other things on my mind. This just feels like an undefined interminably long time with no end in sight.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
life together
We were at a wedding two days ago. It was beautiful. As the sun set and the moon rose over the desert the couple stood under the chuppa filled with joy and excitement smiles plastered across their faces. It was a perfect moment.
Just behind me stood my husband of 11 years. I remember our wedding (not quite so scenic but the same joy and excitement) and I thought of what has happened over the last 11 years. There have been ups and downs, some big and some small. The most recent was my (our?) miscarriage just two days earlier.
Our wedding was wonderful. I loved it and have always said I would do it again but the marriage is better. Our life together, our family and each other. I love my husband and can't think of anyone else who I would rather have spent the last 11 years with, anyone else who I would want with me in the hard times or with me to celebrate the good times.
A wedding is great but right now I think marriage is even better.
Just behind me stood my husband of 11 years. I remember our wedding (not quite so scenic but the same joy and excitement) and I thought of what has happened over the last 11 years. There have been ups and downs, some big and some small. The most recent was my (our?) miscarriage just two days earlier.
Our wedding was wonderful. I loved it and have always said I would do it again but the marriage is better. Our life together, our family and each other. I love my husband and can't think of anyone else who I would rather have spent the last 11 years with, anyone else who I would want with me in the hard times or with me to celebrate the good times.
A wedding is great but right now I think marriage is even better.
Easy Come, not so easy go
Last Wednesday I had a huge shock, after various conversations and thoughts I did a home pregnancy test and found out I was pregnant!!!!! After a few choice words in the privacy of the toilet I frantically organised a doctors appointment and places for the boys to go whilst I drove to the other side of Jerusalem for the medical conformation I needed. After lots and lots of waiting I eventually got in to see the doctor who confirmed the pregnancy and guessed it was about 4 weeks old. Then came lots of print outs and a nice chat about how this had been so much easier than the last time. I was happy and quite a bit scared about the close age gap between my baby and the next one (due around mid marchish).
I spent the next couple of days in a bit of a daze. We had some conversations about double buggies and bigger cars. I was still trying to take it all in and had noticed a couple of spots of blood, nothing serious and all seemed quite normal for early pregnancy. Come Friday we packed up to go away for shabbat, it was my father in laws 2nd yorzhiet and we were going to have a family shabbat in Jerusalem.
Friday night we were going to bed and I had some quite significant bleeding. This was no longer normal. By mid morning on Saturday it had become a significant flow. By lunch time I was filling a nappy every hour. By now there was no hiding the fact that I was having a miscarriage.
The blood and other stuff continued to flow and it got more and more uncomfortable. By late afternoon I just wanted to be at home with my own bed and toilet. I was miserable, uncomfortable and sad. None of these things had any place in a family shabbat away from home. I wanted to curl up and escape everyone. I wanted peace and quiet and privacy. I had to wait a few more hours before any of that could happen.
At long last, shabbat ended and we were on our way home. We put the kids to bed and then I headed back to Jerusalem to get checked out at the womens clinic. After a bit of confusion as to where it was I was finally there and when I went in to see the doctor he confirmed what I already knew. My medical file now records a "spontaneous abortion". He gave me some medication to help empty out the rest of my womb and sent me home. There was really nothing more he could do or that I needed him to do.
So there it is, for four days I knew I was pregnant and then I wasn't. Still don't know how I feel. On the one hand it was an unexpected pregnancy that had not been preceded by all the test and treatment that others have had but on the other hand I was pregnant and for whatever reason beyond my control the fetus was not to be but I still miss it. I miss it when the blood is still flowing out of me as it did after I gave birth to my three kids but there is no baby to hold now. It's blood that is death, I don't need any symbolism here to explain how a period makes me niddah because of the potential for life that was not fulfilled. This blood is the life that didn't grow, didn't develop, didn't nurture a child in my womb for 9 months. This is the blood that failed. The blood that is dying with the child I will never know, the child that never was.
I have a husband who loves me. I have 3 children who I love and who love me. I am healthy ( if somewhat overweight) and I have a good life. My body will recover, my mood will lift and life will go on. I am not a sad person and who knows what the future has in store for me but I know that I can deal with having a miscarriage and whatever else life throws at me, but right now please excuse me if I'm a little sad.
I spent the next couple of days in a bit of a daze. We had some conversations about double buggies and bigger cars. I was still trying to take it all in and had noticed a couple of spots of blood, nothing serious and all seemed quite normal for early pregnancy. Come Friday we packed up to go away for shabbat, it was my father in laws 2nd yorzhiet and we were going to have a family shabbat in Jerusalem.
Friday night we were going to bed and I had some quite significant bleeding. This was no longer normal. By mid morning on Saturday it had become a significant flow. By lunch time I was filling a nappy every hour. By now there was no hiding the fact that I was having a miscarriage.
The blood and other stuff continued to flow and it got more and more uncomfortable. By late afternoon I just wanted to be at home with my own bed and toilet. I was miserable, uncomfortable and sad. None of these things had any place in a family shabbat away from home. I wanted to curl up and escape everyone. I wanted peace and quiet and privacy. I had to wait a few more hours before any of that could happen.
At long last, shabbat ended and we were on our way home. We put the kids to bed and then I headed back to Jerusalem to get checked out at the womens clinic. After a bit of confusion as to where it was I was finally there and when I went in to see the doctor he confirmed what I already knew. My medical file now records a "spontaneous abortion". He gave me some medication to help empty out the rest of my womb and sent me home. There was really nothing more he could do or that I needed him to do.
So there it is, for four days I knew I was pregnant and then I wasn't. Still don't know how I feel. On the one hand it was an unexpected pregnancy that had not been preceded by all the test and treatment that others have had but on the other hand I was pregnant and for whatever reason beyond my control the fetus was not to be but I still miss it. I miss it when the blood is still flowing out of me as it did after I gave birth to my three kids but there is no baby to hold now. It's blood that is death, I don't need any symbolism here to explain how a period makes me niddah because of the potential for life that was not fulfilled. This blood is the life that didn't grow, didn't develop, didn't nurture a child in my womb for 9 months. This is the blood that failed. The blood that is dying with the child I will never know, the child that never was.
I have a husband who loves me. I have 3 children who I love and who love me. I am healthy ( if somewhat overweight) and I have a good life. My body will recover, my mood will lift and life will go on. I am not a sad person and who knows what the future has in store for me but I know that I can deal with having a miscarriage and whatever else life throws at me, but right now please excuse me if I'm a little sad.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
spirituality
We went to the old city and the kotel toady fro yom yerushalaim. I had a really nice time, the weather was great, the kids were having fun and it was just a very pleasant afternoon and then we got to the Kotel. I went down with the kids then my husband took them down to the actual wall whist I waited with the baby. I looked over to the womens section and it was about 6 or 7 deep at the wall, I just couldn't be bothered even trying to get down there so I went off to wait for the others.
Whilst I was waiting I began thinking about the Kotel and some of the discussions I've had in class over the last few days. I watched a continual flow of happy people heading down to the Kotel. I wished just for a moment that I could be one of them. That I could share the belief I heard expressed in school of the centrality and holiness of the Kotel, that it is a special place.
I have never been a great fan of the Kotel. When I first saw it aged 11 I remember being underwhelmed by it. On my year off I reduced it to my theory of people davening to the wall and not to hashem, that the wall had become the focus and we were losing the connection to hashem. Over the years the levels of discrimination I perceive at the kotel have grown as the facilities for women have shrunk.
Why do I have to make it so hard for myself? Why can't I just take the easy way out and say that this is the kotel, the holiest site and here I can connect to hashem I a way I can't anywhere else. Most of the time I am happy that I question things and make my own choices but today I wondered if I just make it too hard. But should I settle for anything less? should I give up just to take the easy route and be comfortable? and I know that I can't.
The girls I spoke to in school all know and toe the party line. Will that happen to my kids? How can I make sure they are exposed to the other opinion? How do I make sure they think?
Whilst I was waiting I began thinking about the Kotel and some of the discussions I've had in class over the last few days. I watched a continual flow of happy people heading down to the Kotel. I wished just for a moment that I could be one of them. That I could share the belief I heard expressed in school of the centrality and holiness of the Kotel, that it is a special place.
I have never been a great fan of the Kotel. When I first saw it aged 11 I remember being underwhelmed by it. On my year off I reduced it to my theory of people davening to the wall and not to hashem, that the wall had become the focus and we were losing the connection to hashem. Over the years the levels of discrimination I perceive at the kotel have grown as the facilities for women have shrunk.
Why do I have to make it so hard for myself? Why can't I just take the easy way out and say that this is the kotel, the holiest site and here I can connect to hashem I a way I can't anywhere else. Most of the time I am happy that I question things and make my own choices but today I wondered if I just make it too hard. But should I settle for anything less? should I give up just to take the easy route and be comfortable? and I know that I can't.
The girls I spoke to in school all know and toe the party line. Will that happen to my kids? How can I make sure they are exposed to the other opinion? How do I make sure they think?
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