Thursday, September 23, 2010

Death of a Magnolia


It may seem insignificant to you, but I am grieving the loss of a Magnolia tree. My mother planted this Magnolia in memory of her stillborn son, who was born at 37 weeks gestation. She planted that tree in her little rock garden, so she had good a view from her kitchen window. And some times as she stood and did the dishes and looked out the window, she would be crying as she looked at that Magnolia.

My mother was a Type 1 diabetic from childhood until her death from Breast Cancer. She had many complications during her pregnancies because of it, but never let it deter her from acheiving her goal of being a mother. I was her first born and that pregnancy was pretty much complication free. She fell pregnant a year later and unfortunately didn't have the same smooth sailing. She was admitted to the RWH during her third trimester as her diabetes became harder to manage. She had hypos often, and her BSL readings were all over the place, so they decided to admit her until she'd had her baby.

At 37 weeks, they decided to do an amnio to check the baby's lung maturity. I'm supposing nowadays, they wouldn't have even bothered with that, but back then, amnio was a new technology. They didn't have ultrasounds to guide them though, instead relying on dopplers and feeling the baby's position by hand. This probably wouldn't have been a problem if it was an experienced obstetrician doing it. Unfortunately, they gave my mother a student doctor.

The first needle went in and my mother felt her baby jump up in to her rib cage. She told the doctor, but he told her not to be silly. He took the needle out and it was filled with a bloody fluid. He tried again and once more, my mother felt her unborn move abruptly. The second needle was just as fruitless. The third try, the doctor hit paydirt and sent the fluid off for testing. Pathology would later reveal that it was my mother's urine he had sent away.

Hours after my mother felt how her unborn child distressed. She told the doctors and nurses, but no one listened to her. Then after a few more hours, she felt how the child within her womb grew still. And moved no more. Then they listened. And then they confirmed her fears.

She was induced by herself and birthed her son by herself. He was quickly whisked away without having been held by his mother. She never got to see him, hold him or love on him. She was unconsolable.

Twenty five years later we obtained the autopsy report. My brother had been stabbed in the head, the lungs, the umbilical cord and the abdomen. He had most likely suffered horrendously as he slowly bled to death.
He was buried in a mass grave in Springvale. I have yet to locate it. But one day I will. For my mother.

A year after his birth, my father gave her a magnolia tree to put in the garden. She tended to it and it thrived in that rock garden. She would water it every evening. She could see it from her kitchen window. It was the only truly beautiful thing to come out of a shitty brick home in a shitty little outer eastern suburb. A thing of substance where everything else was lacking.

And now it is gone. Just like my stillborn brother. Just like my mother.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

It's on like Donkey Kong!

Right. The sale went through. We called their bluff.. they bought the house anyway, termites and all. This means the purchase of the house in Kyneton is now unconditional too! OMG WE'RE MOVING TO KYENTON! WOOHOO!

It's been a good week. Freja got her cadet of the year award. She got interviewed by the local newspaper about it and will have her picture in the paper soon. Both she and Gabes got their NAPLAN tests back and both of them broke the glass ceiling there. Well above national standards in all areas. WOOHOO again!

I've negotiated with the removalists and they are bringing boxes over in the next couple of days. The packing up and purging in this place will begin.

The new school for the kids wrote confirming their placements for next year. It's all rolling forward.

Isn't it ridiculous that we can be in this area, struggling in this house, with debts that leave us unable to do anything..and this overinflated house market means that we sell for a shitload more than we bought it for, buy a brand new, never been lived in home that's bigger than we ever thought imaginable and voila..debts gone. Wow.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

One step forward, two steps back.

UGH!!!!!! I feel like I've been sucker punched and had all the wind knocked out of my lungs. Every time something positive happens, something negative comes along to take all the joy out of the good. Every. Single. Time! My mental health is not enjoying this roller coaster right now.

So, we sold this house. This was a good thing. Two days after we had signed, I had made my mental peace with the fact that we are going. I disengaged myself from this house. From my awesome kitchen. From everything I'd loved (and loathed) about the place. Ready to move on.

The buyers had met abover our price which was good. They paid an awesome deposit to show their good faith and I was thinking..'sweet..rings back!' They had a three day cooling off period, which passed without fault.. and they had to get a building and pest inspection done inside of 7 days. That was yesterday.

So. The inspection revealed that we have some termites in a pile of wood (which I had no idea was there.. builders' fault??). They are not in the structure of the house. Just in this pile of wood. The buyers are FREAKING OUT. They want to break the contract, yada, yada, yada.. Now, I'm no legal expert, but the contract does say that the termites have to be IN the house. Does under constitute in?

The thought of going back to square one and having daily Opens is enough to make me want to poke my eyes out. I feel sick to my stomach. FUCK!!!!! If this sale shits itself, we have lost the place in Kyneton. Don't tell me something better will come around.. I don't want to hear it.
I just see myself stuck in this fucking place, with no fucking money to pull out, tied up because of a mistake I didn't make. Really, termites? WTF!? Go pick on someone else. Someone who can afford to deal with you.

It's 10:30am. I want to get drunk. I want to smoke. I just want out of this prison. The only thing keeping my sanity is the 3 little dudes who depend on my sanity to keep them happy.