When Fat is A State of Mind

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

What a Strange Feeling

I've been feeling a little strange for the past few days and after some navel gazing, which led to the removal of excess navel flint (but that's a whole other post), I came to the conclusion that this incredible lightness of being was in fact HAPPINESS.

Yes I know what the hell is that word doing in my angst ridden little blog but hey presto Mickey Mouse here I am and I must confess I may just get used to it.  It's been a big couple of weeks and let me tell you girlfriend I am channelling my inner Buffy and kicking some serious butt.  I'm getting some really good feedback professionally and you know what I deserve it, yep I do.  I've worked hard, I've overcome some fairly hefty challenges and I'm rockin' it big time.  The rewards are flowing and I'm just going with it.

Things at home are beginning to make some sense and I'm on the countdown to summer holidays at the beach, not to mention the Big Man to spread the warm and fuzzies.

So even if there are some setbacks along the way I know I can come up with the solution because after all Buffy isn't the only kick arse chick on the block.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

The Blame Game

I'm a firm believer in personal responsibility.  We all make choices and whatever the consequences they are our choices to make.  Free will is wondrous thing to behold.  It gives us courage, conviction, direction yet when it exists within a being with a damaged spirit it becomes a receptacle of doubt and torment and the lines between responsibility and blame begin to blur.

There are times in our life where the choices we make take us in a direction we could never predict, we come across people who will wound if for no other reason than their own amusement.  Yet when we are hurt, when our spirit is wounded we instinctively begin to attribute blame to ourselves.  We second guess our choices, we doubt our worth and we lose our confidence in our judgement.

Whatever justifications are made, whatever excuses are proffered, whatever "provocation" is tabled, if you are  victim of abuse or violence then you are blameless.  By all means take responsibility for the choices that led you to that point but there is no blame to be apportioned in your direction.  Don't be fooled into accepting the blame, lay it squarely at the feet of those who deserve it.

Today is White Ribbon Day a day for the silence to end.  A day to separate responsibility and blame.  A day to acknowledge the damage done and allow yourself the grace to heal.

To those who have survived, share your story, use your experiences to remove the shame and blame.

To those who are suffering in silence, you are not to blame, you are not alone, help is available if you find the courage to speak out.

To those of you who commits these acts of violence and abuse.  IT IS NOT OK, IT IS YOUR FAULT AND YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE.  YOU CAN CHANGE - if you choose to.

To those of you who have never experienced or witnessed violence or abuse, you are blessed.

Monday, November 22, 2010


For the last few days I've been trying to write Part 2 of Playing the Odds and really battling a major block.  I mean it's a birth story, it writes itself doesn't it?  Then it occurred to me why I couldn't write it - I was writing it for the wrong reason.

I've been so hung up on the diagnosis process and the label that I've felt the need for people to understand what is so amazing about my guy and why he is more than what the world labels him and for that I do his a grave disservice because that is merely my ego not my pride as a parent.

But that's not my job, his is not my story to tell for I'm am merely appearing in a supporting role.  My job is to give him what he needs so that if and when he is ready he can tell his story for who better to understand and interpret the experience.

For now I need to mix the palette of colours so that he is free to paint rainbows.

One day I will finish his birth story but for the right reasons.

Acceptance isn't easy it requires courage and strength of conviction.  More importantly it requires belief.

I don't need to justify who he is because the exciting thing isn't who he is but who he will become.

This I truly believe.

Putting a Value on Your Life

Isn't it funny as children we place ourselves at the centre of the universe and as we grow we move our orbit further and further from the sun.  Particularly once we become Mothers that elusive Me time becomes a mere idea perpetuated by those well meaning articles in womens magazines - you know the ones that feature 10 sure fire ways to put the spark back in your marriage, 12 great homemade christmas gifts and 8 great ways to earn money from home.

When do we learn to settle?  I'm trying to think back to a time when I stopped dreaming, stopped believing that I was capable of anything, worth everything and dreams were but mere desires waiting in the wings of my mind.

I can't continue to sabotage myself if I value myself.  How could I abuse something so precious?  Wantonly destroy the beauty that I possess.

After all my physical being is but merely a reflection of how I see myself.  I don't know exactly when I looked in the mirror and felt that self loathing but now I know I didn't hate what I saw, not really, I hated the fact that I no longer dreamt.

Today I give voice to my soul and she sings softly for now but with a purity that cannot be silenced.

Give yourself permission to love, start with the person you neglect the most - yourself.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

What Happens When Reality and Expectation Collide

I will get to Part 2 I promise but for the last week my mind has been bubbling away, I've been digesting, processing, mulling and generally trying to make sense of that which has no logical explanation.

When we become parents whether consciously or subconsciously we construct a reality in which we envisage our children, who they will become, how they will shape their lives.  We invest our hopes, dreams and aspirations into our childrens futures.  We gently guide and shape our children, we nuture their spirits, give them the tools to birth their dreams, provide comfort as they learn the lessons brought forth as they unfold their wings ready to soar.

As a Mother our natural instinct is to protect our babies but what do we do when their biggest threat comes from within.  Or is their biggest threat the weight of expectation? 

How much of our parenting is actually a reflection of our ego?  We all like to think that our children are the smartest, sportiest, wittiest, divine little pieces of ourselves so what happens when that reflection is skewed away from our projections?

A selfless act as a parent is acceptance.  Not only seeing but celebrating the people our children are, the potential that they carry and the unique qualities that enrich our lives.

Our role as parents is to minimise the harm, maximise the opportunity and impart our lessons learnt with enough freedom to allow them to interpret their own lessons.

Today my son gave me a gift.  He is at an age where he enjoys role playing so today he was imagining what it would be like to be Ben 10, he said "I wish I could turn like Ben 10", then he turned to me and smiled and said "No I don't I like being me" and you know what I like him being him too because being him is pretty bloody fabulous.

We offer up our love unconditionally but sometimes we need to acknowlege that our expectations are insignificant when weighed up against the wonder that is the reality of their being.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Playing The Odds Part 1

First of all I must say thank you for the support you've freely gifted me with after last nights post.  Sometimes we are lifted up where we least expect it but know that your generosity of spirit is awe inspiring.

I will post later about today and "The Report" but right now I'm still processing but suffice to say, we shall overcome or at the very least map out the detour.

Tonight I'm travelling down memory lane and looking at how far we've come.  This post comes with a warning *self indulgent maudlin ranting ahead*.

When my marriage ended I was so gun shy that a starters pistol could induce hyperventilation just watching athletics on the TV, so 6 years ago I met a man who snuck into my safe little world and proceed to turn it upside down.  Not only did he love and accept who I am but had this crazy idea  that we should splice our DNA and have a baby.  I was 37 at this stage and warned him of decreased fertility, blah, blah, blah.  Long story short and wave the magic wand (there's a metaphor for you lol) and second cycle in I'm pregnant.  Cue debilitating exorcist style vomitting and yep we're well on our way.

12 weeks in and time to book in to the hospital, I'm offered a dating ultrasound as a point of reference.  Drink the water, lay down and we're off.  Mission control we have lift off, yes heartbeat confirmed, but wait there's more.  Luckily I was laying down because Mission Control we have received signal of alien lifeform, yes for those playing at home it turned out that Baby A was in a share house because right there in living black and white grainy image was Baby B.  I must confess that the word Fuck was used as a noun, adjective and verb for the next 3 hours or so.

Apart from the compulsive expulsion of stomach contents we moved through the weeks at what seemed to be lightning speed.  Everything was on track but in the back of my mind I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Little B was nowhere near as active as Little A but I kept telling myself that it was just positioning.

A routine growth ultrasound was ordered for 28 weeks and off we went excited to be seeing the Dynamic Duo again.  Everything was perfect, so perfect that the technician told himself that he could toddle off to work again as we wrapped up the last measurements so off he went and I doubt that he made it off the hospital grounds before I heard the sound that no mother wants to hear during an ultrasound "Oh"  It's amazing how one sound can tilt the axis of the world.  Within those two letters was the unspoken sentence that changed our destiny.  The technician had done a measurement that wasn't standard but had she not done it our little boy would have almost surely have died in utero. The blood flow in one of the arteries in his umbilical cord was reversed and his blood flow was restricted.  It was expected that this would gradually reduce until his placenta ceased to function.

The on-call obstetrician was adamant that we'd have to deliver that day.  The thought of delivering at 28 weeks just terrified me and reduced me to a puddle.  Luckily I was in the right place and the head of FMU came to see me.  He was prepared to try and get me to 32 weeks, no guarantees but he'd do everything he could to protect my babies for as long as possible.  Done deal and away we went.  Ultrasounds and CTGs every 3rd day for the next 2 weeks.  Once we hit 30 weeks we started to scan every day and at 31 weeks I was admitted to hospital and we were scanning twice a day.  We were scheduled to deliver by c/section on the Tuesday (32 weeks).  The Peri had to go away for the weekend but he'd arranged for one of his attendings to open up the Dept and scan me and ring through the results.  Saturday night at about 9pm they came to get me from the ward and off for the scan we went.  Within 10 minutes they'd stopped scanning and were on the phone.  We weren't going to make Tuesday our babies would be here tomorrow morning.  In the morning we would be playing the odds...........

Monday, November 8, 2010

5 years 1 month 14 days.......

ago I fell in love.  I met a man who was destined to turn my world upside down, would cause my heart to swell until it was fit to burst, who drives me to limits I never envisaged I would encounter, whose laughter is like notes of pure happiness.  5 years, 1 month and 14 days ago my son made his entrance into the world.

My son is viewed differently to his peers, he sees the world differently to most and tomorrow we take another step on the path we have embarked.

You see tomorrow we get the report from his psych assessment.  Written in black and white will be a judgement, based in fact, that will give us a direction, a label, a jumping off point.

My beautiful boy was gifted to me, he teaches me patience, frustration, exasperation but ultimately he teaches me to love.

Whatever the label, whichever direction we move in, he is my heartsong.

I love you to the moon and back little man, more than all the stars in the sky, brighter than the sun and bigger than the universe.

Forgiveness is a Gift

It's been a long time between posts and it's been a deliberate silence.  When Pandora came out to play she brought with her so many different emotions that I needed to be selfish.  That fight or flight instinct is so strong and the desire to delete my blog and pretend that all of that happened to someone else was so overwhelming that it took all my strength not to succumb.

I wrote that post sitting far away from home in a motel room.  In a totally alien environment far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life I was forced to confront my deepest fear.  My past.

Over the last few weeks I've forced myself to address not only the events of the past, but the emotions and consequences of my choices. I've cried, I've beaten myself back and blue, I've honestly looked into myself and asked myself if there are things that I could have changed what would have been the flow on effect of those changes.  I am who I am because of where I've been BUT and it's a huge BUT I don't have to be who I am because of where I've been.  Makes absolutely no sense but makes perfect sense.

It makes perfect sense because I forgive myself.  I've made mistakes and I've paid a heavy price, sometimes the price is just too high but ultimately I did the best I could at the time I made those choices.  Would I make them again, perhaps armed with experience and knowlege I may not and in the future I wouldn't but I can't change the life I've lived I can take responsibility for the life I choose to live now.

Whilst I've struggled to make peace with myself I've struggled with my food choices.  I've backslid but this time I've been able to grab an anchor and steady myself.  This time I'm looking forward.  I'm anticipating my future instead of being held prisoner by my past.

The pain isn't magically gone but it no longer throbs with unrelenting spasms.

I have a future - one of my own making.  The possibilities are both endless and exciting.