One Second for Twitter

Thanks to the suggestion from Trish, One Second has joined the world of Twitter! It's quite new to me and I must admit, I don't think I've quite wrapped my head around it yet, but I'm told it is a fast growing form of social media and communication, and anything that gets people thinking - even for One Second - is a great thing as far as I'm concerned!

You can see the One Second Twitter profile here.

And the One Second blog here.

A big thank you to Trish for getting behind One Second and helping spread the thought wave!

5bigpv6kru

(Technorati fiddling, please ignore!)

Warrior Wednesday

Dear Zy,

I've been thinking about your biological parents a lot lately, and I want to apologise to you right now, because my thoughts haven't always been nice ones.

Just recently I got a call from the hospital where you were born. More specifically, I got a call from someone in the accounts department. It appears there is money outstanding, and as I was the patient I am the one they called.
The laws around surrogacy in Australia are pretty shaky, to say the least. In the early days we went through an IVF clinic that supports surrogacy, but a lot of the legalities were left to us to sort out (with the help of solicitors). Part of our agreement was that as the pregnancy was really your biological parent's, and just happened to include me as an incubator, your biological parents would be responsible for everything associated with the pregnancy that was physically possible. Including the financial responsibility.

At six months into your growing, the first lot of 'complications' popped their head up. Too much amniotic fluid led to the discovery of a lump in your throat and a quirky esophagus that didn't quite go where it was meant to. At this point, your bio mother had just scared the crap out of herself by googling causes of polyhydramnios and was somewhat relieved when the news was nowhere near as bad as it could have been. Your dad, on the other hand, had a bit of a freak out and took of surfing.
For a week.
Without telling anyone.

Your bio mum and I were furious.

But we were furious together.

And he came back when it counted.

The day after your bio mum and I went to the big hospital to get results of the amniocentesis, your dad returned. The results told us that you had Cri-du-Chat syndrome. We all cried a lot, but your bio mum - she was crushed.
She was so crushed, that when we all went to speak to the specialist together, your bio mum asked me to leave the room so that she could ask the doctor about a medical termination and what that involved.

This time I was furious.

And we weren't in it together.

From that point on I no longer felt like I was just your incubator.
My maternal instincts kicked in - or rather, I let them kick in - and I felt like the person who was carrying you, and giving you life, and protecting you, and loving you.

I felt like your mother.

I gave birth to you. I stood by you and fought with you. I loved you with all of my heart and soul.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle when your bio mother finally entered the room for the first time - hours after you were born. I resisted the primal urge to growl and bare my teeth at her as she stood in the corner, refusing to look at you.

I held you to my heart and rocked you gently, as you died in my arms.

I cried a river of tears for you, and I let the river carry your ashes into the ocean, so you could be free.

I will cry many more tears for you, so that the rivers will keep flowing and can take you wherever you want to go.

I will love you, with all of my heart and soul, for all of eternity.

And I will pay the hospital account.

Because I cannot bare the thought of your parents not taking responsibility for you.

Love me.

Beezie the Beetroot

What happens when Sammi the crazy artist lady offers to give the Kewl girls a "practical art lesson"?


Beezie the mini foxy, becomes Beezie the mini beetroot!!!

Bush

Today, being Friday, is photo challenge day over at Mountaingirls Musings. Each week there is a new theme - this week's is 'bush' - and the challenge is to come up with a relevant image. It's turned into a great learning project for the Kewl girls (and me!), as we've come across new words, new places, new ideas and new concepts... And we've had great fun coming up with our photo this week.
First we thought about what a "theme" meant, then had a brainstorm about what could come under the theme of "bush". It was great to see the girls' minds firing as they tackled the photo challenge pretty much on their own this week.
They had acquired more than a few pretty typical images of various shrubs and bushes around our home, before Miss V has a somewhat spectacular brainwave.
Coming home in the car one afternoon, we turned into our drive way and began the descent to our home, when Miss V exclaimed, "Hey! We live in the bush!!!!"
Naturally I stopped the car immediately and we all got out and stood on the roof so as to get a good picture of the bush, where we live.

So thanks MG, for a great challenge, some great learning, and of course - great fun!

Warrior Wednesday

Dear Zy,

Life has been pretty full on this week. It's been a good kind of full on though, with lots of forward movement and life embracing thoughts and ideas. You and I haven't had an outwardly spectacular Warrior moment, like the heart bubble last week, but lots of little things have let me know you are still around - Because even with all of this week's action swirling around in my head, you have never been far from my thoughts.
It was as I sat down to write this post to you that I realised how comforting this is.

For the first time since you died, I think I am getting a sense of what it is like to love you, to miss you, to think of you and to embrace life's forward movement, all at once.

I don't have many more words for you today - although my new found sense of life with you is quietly comforting, it is still somewhat shaky, and I don't want to confuse it with cold and boring head talk.

Darling Zy, thank you for always being here. I am so glad you are coming on this journey with me.

Love me.

Cheers!

Last night (Sunday) I re-entered two worlds that I haven't been part of for quite a while, and I entered for the first time, a new world that is waaaaaaay outside of anything I ever thought I'd experience...

I went to a bar.

I ran a performance installation piece (no - I'm not really sure what 'performance installation piece' means either).

And I spoke to a bar full of total strangers about the last moments of Daddy Kewl's life.

To put that all together (partly for my benefit as I am still not sure I understand exactly what I was thinking or doing!) - last night I went into a bar where total strangers were eating and drinking, I cut the lights at 20 minute intervals, and during those black outs I told the story of Daddy Kewl's last day with us.
It started off as a bit of fun - the black outs had people curious and the beginning snippets of the story were light hearted and fun. Right before the last black out I handed out free beers to everyone. Naturally, this was very well received.

Then for the last time, the lights went out and I began speaking...

"One second... he said. He sounded distracted. Worse - He sounded serious. There was screeching. Then crunching. Crackling through the phone line. Then nothing. Oh no."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the bar. The lights came up slowly as I continued speaking - getting voicemail, putting the children in the car, driving, the rising panic, seeing the flashing lights, the crumpled metal, finally, seeing M and finishing with the words, "He is gone. He is dead."

Once I stopped speaking, I took a moment to compose myself, then the lights went down again and a spotlight came up on a small stage where I was now standing. I explained that the man who killed my husband had been drinking, but decided to get in the car anyway. He relised his favourite TV show was about to start, so he put his foot down. He was one block from home when he ran a stop sign and hit M's car.

M was killed instantly.

He did not get to see our twin daughters turn one.
He was not there for the birth of our youngest.
He will never be here for birthdays.
For Christmas.
To hear the "I love you"s.
See the smiles.
Give the cuddles.

He'll miss every second.

The other guy was physically unharmed.
But he did miss his TV show.

I went on to mention the free beer people were holding, and the split second it took them to decide whether they wanted it or not.

I asked them to hold the bottles up and look underneath.

To the people with a black dot under their bottles - I'm sorry - You were just hit by a drink driver. But don't worry, you didn't suffer. You were killed instantly.

To the people with a red dot under their bottles - Opps - You just drove drunk and caused an accident. But don't worry, they didn't suffer. They were killed instantly.

To the people with a white dot under their bottles - Congratulations - You have just won a $50 Taxi voucher, and you won't kill anyone on your drive home tonight.

Finally, I asked people to remember how easy it is to make split second decisions without giving them much thought.

And I asked that next time, when they have to choose, they make their second count.

There was a round of applause that was hesitant, as if people were not sure whether they should be clapping or not, then without me even realising what was happening, people started emptying their beers.

They tipped them down sinks behind the bar, over the veranda, down drains and gutters and into toilets.

As I watched the people around me emptying their drinks, I felt as though all of the emotions that had been bottled up in order to put together and present the installation were being released. I exhaled, for what felt like the first time in weeks, and just like that, it was all gone.

When the last bottle was emptied another round of applause erupted in the bar, and this time it was packed with energy and intent.

***

Tonight, I am absolutely exhausted... But I feel better than I have done in months.

One last thing... To everyone at the bar last night, and to everyone who helped make the installation successful, and to everyone who has put up with me while I've had my head so far up the proverbial backside of this new world -

Cheers!

To making every second count.