Sunday, 21 June 2015


This last week hasn't been very kind to me, but it could be much worse.

The worst thing that happened was spending Wednesday at hospital, making sure there wasn't anything wrong with Pumpernickel. Tomorrow we are off for an ultrasound, and I am quite looking forward to seeing the bubba again and hopefully having a better idea of what is going on.

Four hours in hospital by yourself isn't great. I spent and hour and a half replacing my shift for that day, and had a flat phone by the end. Each time I would meet a new nurse they would ask 'Does anyone know you're here?'

I lied and said yes. Well, it wasn't really a lie. I had sent Stephen messages because he was working, and my staff knew I was in hospital and Kathy, who I work with at Guides, knew I was there. But was anyone coming to sit with me while I waited? No. And that was okay with me.

I thought for a long time about who I would want with me, and the answer, logically, was just me. After ticking off the options of all the unavailable people, and my parents who are just too far away for a short trip to hospital, I decided that I was totally okay with just being by myself. And Pumpernickel. I then came to the rapid conclusion that my days of solitude were numbered.

Oh, how I love solitude!

I pretty much always have. Too much interaction wears me down, and the only way for me to recharge properly is through solitude. When I lived at home I would often walk places (okay, I walked everywhere!), and would have an extra hour writing in my journal and reading at night. When I moved out of home, I spent a lot more time by myself, and living alone too, which never drove me too bananas. I like my own company and I tend to get resentful if I don't have enough space, physically and emotionally.

Now though, I'm now entering a time of life where it's highly unlikely I'll be flying by myself, drinking a white wine and having too many options on the in flight entertainment menu. Spending a whole day alone, not talking to anyone, in a foreign city will just be a memory. These are moments I have savoured, but I always thought there would be more of them.

I don't understand this concept of me-time. It seems selfish in comparison to solitude, which is motsky the art of enjoy your own company. I don't get bored easily when I am by myself, but I certainly do in the company of others.

And I know also that everything is going to be harder. Errands being child free. Going to work being
a luxury, (Then again, my work is looking after other people's children, so maybe not) not being a commodity that is a mother, and therefore completely necessary in a small child's life. None of these ideas are new to me, and it's something I have accepted and a trade off, all things considered.

Back to hospital though.

I had a long wait at Birthing and Assessment before they had a free room, in fact they had to put me in a birthing suite because there wasn't a room for me which was suitable. My wait was for about half an hour, and I don't think I had ever cried quite the same way as I did that morning. I felt heartbroken because I didn't know what was happening and I didn't know if Pumpernickel would be okay. I didn't feel lonely though, I knew I had Pumpernickel and that would be enough for now.

I have had a few days off work, and probably go back, properly, on Tuesday. The last few days have been good, I have noticed Pumpernickel's movements a lot more and spent most of the weekend nesting and relaxing (and hurting my back in the process). I know I have a lot of people who have my back, but right now, I don't feel like I can call on them, and what am I going to say? Everyone who needs to know knows already and are doing a good job keeping the home fires burning and all that.

Needing some sleep, one shift tomorrow (yay, money). Good night world.