It’s been a while since I sat down and posted here, and there have been many, many changes in that time. The last few months have been an emotional roller-coaster, but I think we’ve landed in a good place.
The first change was a new job for me, which necessitated a significant relocation, meaning B had to quit his work and we’ve switched roles with me out working full time and him at home looking after chubba, studying and looking for part time work.
Yes, we’ve finally broken free of Sydney and landed in a regional centre. I’m not sure if it’s a tree change or a sea change as we’ve got a bit of both. We’re now located a little over 2 hours out of sydney, and about 20min from the coast. In the last two months we’ve spent more time at the beach than we did in 10 years in Sydney. My morning commute now takes about 10min (15 if i get caught in traffic around the local primary school) and B and Chubba are easily able to join me for lunch near my new work once a week. We’re in a wonderful honeymoon phase and the new life feels blissful – long may that last.
Swapping roles has proven a little more challenging and I fall into the trap of trying to do it all far too often, but we’re getting there. B and Chubba have had difficulties in adapting to being with each other much more, and not having me run interference, but gradually they are sorting it out and finding a happy place.
The other change I hoped to celebrate in this post was the anticipated arrival of a second child after so many months of hoping. I should have been able to talk about the terrible timing – finding out we were finally pregnant just as I accepted this new job. However that isn’t the case. Instead we learnt the hard way that even after the 12 week mark things can go badly wrong and we lost our son after I went into labour at only 16 weeks pregnant. It’s been a strange time, so filled with joy and a sense of rightness in where we are and how our work / life / family balance is coming together, but with a new grief behind it all. Even writing these few words now bring fresh tears to my eyes. Most days pass in a blur of contentment, busy-ness and general life, and I sort of forget that i was pregnant only 6 weeks ago. Most days now our tiny little boy hovers at the very far reaches of my consciousness, not really forgotten but not actively thought of.
As terrible as the loss of our baby was and is, it has been a remarkable catalyst for forging deep caring friendships with people in our new community. The midwife who delivered him, happens to live within walking distance and is rapidly becoming a good friend; the friend of a friend at church, who came and minded chubba for an hour while B and I cried together in the hospital room cradling our tiny son, has become an almost grandma for Chubba and a caring friend for me; and my manager and colleagues have shared stories of their own losses, given me space to grieve as needed and accepted my return to work with just the right amount of care, sympathy and practicality. I am certain we are in the right place at this moment.
In reflecting on a turbulent end to 2015 and what lies ahead, 2016 feels like it will be good.