Finding Her Way

A Life of Choice

2011-10-04T21:36:00.000-07:00

I have a new blog space.

Please come on over!

(And it didn't take me long, did it?)

Delicious Ambiguity

2011-08-08T03:44:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

The last few blog posts have hinted at it, but I can finally say it with certainty -

This blog is on hiatus, and I don't know how long for.

You see this blog had a purpose, all those years ago.

I needed to speak.

I needed to throw away the silence and tell my truth as I saw it.

I needed to explore myself, and create new truths from what I believed was right.

I needed to grow from a naive teenager into a woman.

And this blog helped me do that.

You helped me do that.

Yes, you the lurkers, the faithful commenters, the inspiring other bloggers, and the emailers.

Your support and love has been amazing, and truly added a great deal of kindness, happiness and hope to my life.

But for now, I feel like a chapter in my life is closing, and in a way, this blog as well. I am ready to move on, face up to some new challenges, and focus on all the positive, wonderful things I have been blessed with. Things with a beginning need an ending - and this feels like the right time for this blog.

My fight to protect children will always continue. My eyes have been opened now - I am aware now that monsters aren't just faceless strangers. But above all, I am no longer silent.

My hope that this blog has made at least one person more aware. Made them think, look twice at an 'iffy' situation. Made them more willing to speak up. Made them realise that those stories in the news? Are real people, with real emotions, and real long term impacts. Child abuse doesn't just finish at the end of the 2 minute news story - the repercussions ripple out, sometimes for generations.

If I come back, (and I might - I still like to write!), I will be sure to pass on my new space in the world wide web.

But, thankyou, thankyou for 4 (nearly 5!) priceless years. Blogging community, you have reached in and touched my heart, and indeed, my soul. Strangers no more.

Love,
Princess Jo.

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.

Delicious Ambiguity.

- Gilda Radner

Thoughts on Being a Bad Blogger and Other Things

2011-07-24T02:02:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

Yes, I know. Another long absence. Resounding silence from someone for whom the act of writing and expression is just part of living.

A part I have put on the back burner.

Why? For many reasons, but mostly because I was scared. I suddenly realised that my blog was becoming very well known, particularly among my friends and family. Yes, I had linked to it in my facebook, but hadn't realised the full implications of that action. Definitely naivety on my part.

That, and I have been busy. Very busy. Life has been good. I still struggle with the PTSD - still sometimes feel like I am at the bottom of a very dark hole - but I can now glimpse flashes of the light. It is amazing what a a little hope and light can do.

I like to tell myself that I have accepted a lot of the burdens life has thrown my way - that I can survive without children of my own. That I do not need to be bound to my father's actions and the impact it has had on my life. But like all things, I cannot run from them forever, and I get brought down to earth rather quickly sometimes.

Some days I just want to yell and scream at how unfair it all is, only to then feel completely ashamed of those feelings when I hear about someone else's story. But as I remind myself, that does not make my emotions, struggles, and fears any less valid. My reality is still my reality.

It is ok for me to sometimes get angry at how people can whine and bitch about fitting a child's car seat into a car when I would give anything to be needing a car seat for a child of my own.

It is ok for me to feel like a terrible mothering fraud sometimes. It is ok to have anger that I can only act the part. Because ultimately, I know that I still have an impact. I am still changing little lives, expanding horizons, teaching the lessons that need to be taught. I may not be a mother (or their mother), but I still have a part to play.

Hollow words perhaps, but I mean what I say.

Or at least, I hope I do.

Jo.

Generous.

2011-06-18T01:36:00.000-07:00

You can please everyone as long as you don't give a damn about yourself.

-Posted by me on facebook-

I am doer.

I love to do stuff for others.

Generous doesn't even begin to cover what I do.

Free babysitting? That is me.

Free photos (or very cheap)? That is me.

Everything provided for the kids whilst they are here? That is me.

I like to make everyone happy. Forgetting all too often about myself, my health and my limits.

So, this weekend I called cease! And desist. On myself.

This weekend has been one big Jo-fest so far. It has all been about me. Ha.

I got very drunk.

I slept during the day.

I only spent money on myself.

I recharged my batteries.

And it has totally been worth it.

I can get back to doing what I love with a smile. Because even though it is so draining - I wouldn't change it for the world.

Some might (and do!) think me crazy for what I do - but when something is said, my reply is always - "it makes me happy - and you get out of life what you put in".

Happiness is priceless.

Brick Walls Running

2011-06-07T06:49:00.000-07:00

Long time no write I know.

Been busy.

Been running again.

And I have found the brick wall again.

My head space isn't a good place to be right now.

But I will get there.

Eventually.

Maybe.

I hope.

And sometimes, that is all you have left.

Just Deserves.

2011-05-27T01:55:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

Sometimes, that little voice in my head tells me that I don't deserve children. That I DESERVE infertility because I screwed up somewhere along the line. That my life, my actions, my thoughts are so terrible that I ruined my chances. That all my attempts to be positive, generous and kind and somehow trick the universe into undoing the infertility will fail. That my overwhelming mothering/nurturing instincts were given to me as a cruel, cruel joke.

But ultimately I do 'own' this - I don't deserve to be infertile. It is cruelly unfair - and breaks my heart, again and again.

I don't deserve this.

THIS. SUCKS.

Hear me universe?

________________________

Hubby and I have given ourselves a year to tackle IVF. A year to grow, to get organised. To save. To plan. We are planning on attending the initial appointments (and have further testing) in the coming months - and then about a year from those appointments, we will (hopefully!) tackle the IVF itself.

The path ahead terrifies me. We are planning on just one treatment (or maybe 2 on the outside). We can't spend the rest of our lives throwing our money and time into something like this.

It saddens me to think that we could only end up with only one child or none. Neither options were in my "ideal" list.

It has struck me lately all the things I might miss out on if I don't have a biological child. I might never give birth. I might never get to breastfeed. I might never get to bring up a child in the way that I want - without having to double and triple check if a decision is ok with 2, 3, or even 4 other people.

Hope is a wonderous, maddening thing. Reality bites, and it is back to the beginning again. The rollercoaster is exhausting me, terrifying me, enlightening me.

Jo.

The Cost for Us.

2011-05-10T20:13:00.000-07:00

Got our information pack in the mail today.

And also found out a more definitive price too....a bit of an ouch moment!!

In order to make our dream come true, we looking at somewhere in the vicinity of $10,000 as the up front figure. Thanks to various benefits from our government, we will get about 75% back. But for us it is huge.

Don't get me wrong, I feel lucky that it isn't the amount that those in the US face to do IVF. But to us? It is a huge figure to come up with.

And we will do it, I have no doubt, but it is going to take so much longer than we expected. Sigh.

One step at a time.

One day at a time.

I know it will be worth it.

I have to believe that it will be worth it.

Step One - We have contact!

2011-05-09T19:44:00.000-07:00

I called our local IVF clinic today.

And got our information pack sent out.

I think we are finally ready to be putting our toes in the water.

And maybe, just maybe, starting the roller coaster ride.

We both need to know what our options are, and how much it will cost.

Our marriage is doing a lot better - our recent trip to Melbourne helped us find ourselves, and our marriage. WE appreciate each other again, and we want to do this 'together' again.

Wish us luck! And please, if any of you have any suggestions or recommendations (or things you would have done differently!), email me (princessjo(at)gmail.com) or leave a comment!

Titles and Days

2011-05-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

Ma.

Mom.

Mother.

Mama.

Mum.

Mummy.

I have no claim over any of those titles.

And yet.

And yet, this year will be the second year that I will have kids with me on "Mother's day".

And yet, it doesn't stop me from feeling like a fraud.

And yet, it doesn't stop me from the overwhelming pain this day brings.

And yet, it doesn't stop me from taking a moment, any moment, out of that day to mourn the lost.

The lost chances.

The lost dreams.

The lost person I have been.

Overflowing, Overwhelmed, Over-organised ...

2011-04-18T21:58:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. I have been doing a terrible job of keeping on top of this blog.

But I have had three lovely children to drag me away from the computer screen into a world of school lunches, teddies and cubby houses made of sheets.

It has been an incredible few weeks.

Full of moments of deep and meaningful clarity

Full of moments of overwhelming panic.

Full of me being more organised than I ever thought possible.

Full of me being over organised.

I can't say it was all pretty - or that I handled the tantrum throwing child as well as I should have. But we survived.

And I loved every moment of it - even when I was at the end of my patience!

I felt so fulfilled - this is what I am good at! This is what I love doing! All I could keep thinking was - "I LOVE this".

Only to realize that they weren't mine - these beautiful children were only on loan. That infertility had removed all these amazing experiences with my OWN child out of my grasp.

You know the saying - "when god closes a door, sometimes he opens a window" ? While I don't agree with the "god part", I can definitely relate to the sentiment right now. Does that mean the hurt in my heart for what I have lost is any less? No! There will always be a part of me that yearns for a child of my own - and that will do whatever it takes to experience that. BUT - it does mean that I can still be happy with what I have. And if anything, I have more kids under my wing then I ever could if I was not infertile.

I hope I never have a child-free or child-less life. But I do live a life with infertility - a life which I would have never chosen for myself. There was a time not so long ago, where I could not have told you ONE good thing infertility has brought me - and now, I can tell you, that I have more than I could have ever expected - of both the good and the bad.

Jo

Wait for Me...

2011-04-11T20:56:00.001-07:00

Perfect Failure

2011-03-31T01:41:00.000-07:00

Long time no write I know. I received a blog award, and I have been working on a post on it (and what is going on in my marriage), but I am finding it tough going. But not to worry, I will get there.

Anyone that knows me, knows that I avoid the housekeeping like the plague. For me, it is the single most stressful thing I do every day, Why?

Because I can never, ever get it to the standard I want. Or, I get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work that I have to do!

I don't think of myself as lazy - I go, go, go all day. But when it comes to the housework? I am a complete failure.

In our society so much of our worth as women, as mothers, as wives, is tied to how we keep our home. It is assumed that if your house is messy, that you are lazy and not a good wife, mother or woman. You FAILED.

For me, it all comes back to the perfection principle - if I cannot get it to my standard of "perfect", it is like I am frozen with anxiety and cannot do it at all, or am unwilling to take it to the next level.

Take my photography, for example. Friends, family, even strangers keep telling me I should start a photography business. I always say no - because my photos are not as good as I would like them. They aren't (key word here, people) - PERFECT! :-)

I have a deep fear of failure. And yet, I fail to recognize or accept anything less than that mythical ideal I hold myself to.

Jo

Hopes and Plans of Honesty

2011-03-02T18:06:00.000-08:00

First up, thanks for the lovely supportive comments. You guys rock!

Yesterday I turned 23. 23 and facing marriage breakdown. Not quite what 'the plan' was.

So where am I, in the huge mess that is my life? Well, we have a D-Day (decision date) - but apart from that, nothing. I will say he is trying really hard, but it just feels like the same old "making-up" we have always done. Not only that, but my expectations are so much higher this time - and I am not just moving on/ignoring the way I have always done.

Having a line in the sand is great, but I am terrified that when it comes down to it, I will just take the easy way out (stay). And I know regardless of whatever choice I make, I will be judged for it.

To be married when you are young (as I was), creates a lot of judgement in and of itself - from the start you are told that your marriage has a much higher chance of failing than surviving. Judge, judge. judge! It is little wonder we are here in this place with a start like that!

It is f*cking scary to be staring down the barrel of something that you have never wanted. Ever.

It is raw. It is brutal. And half the time, I walk away from any discussion we have feeling like a bitch, and feeling incredibly guilty that I cannot be the submissive (meek & quiet) wife that I was brought up to be. I can't let go of my own brain and decision-making capabilities to make my marriage last. I can't become something I am not - nor change my standards for our marriage.

I just want honesty. And I don't think that is too much to ask for. Ultimately, and if I am honest, it is what I deserve. I fought long and hard to remove myself from one poisonous, devastating relationship - I don't need to do that to myself again. I know better now. I am no longer 14 and alone.

Is there hope? There is always hope, and like I say, never say never... The door maybe slowly swinging shut, but there is still a crack of opportunity to make things right and open again.

Jo.

New Normal

2011-02-21T14:21:00.000-08:00

They say hope floats. Well, so do lies. So does history. So does marriage.

Marriage. Bahaha.

Let me be clear - I am no shrinking violet - and I do say what I think, particularly in my marriage. And it probably hasn't helped my marriage in any way.

That being said - yes, that being said, I no longer know the man I married. Or maybe, I do. In my rush to prove everyone wrong - to make my marriage work, I overlooked big warning signs. Forgave a little too quickly and easily.

My husband you see, lies to everyone - and most of all, to himself. Denial, should be his middle name. Lying about attending a poker game might not be a deal breaker when it happens once, but it happens over and over again? It is. It is even a bigger deal breaker when he promises time and time again to work on our marriage and not do whatever the f*ck-up is again - but just goes back to the same old behavior and lies.

I of all people understand how one lie becomes many - and perpetuates a cycle that is hard to stop. I grew up telling lie after lie - yes, my daddy was such a wonderful man, a wonderful godly man. I would do anything for my daddy. All lies. My daddy was a monster, and deep down, I was afraid of him. And I still am.

Which is why it surprises me - that I am here. I know how to lie, and lie well. But obviously, that doesn't mean I can pick a liar.

This morning, my husband got up from the couch and went to work. We said goodbye politely like two strangers.

This is my new normal.

I still don't know if my marriage can be fixed, and I am no longer sure if I want it to be. I can no longer make my marriage just survive on hope.

We will be living together as a couple (at least outwardly, and particularly for the kids) for at least the next few months - but it is up to him, what if anything, happens after that.

And please if you are my family - no judgement, no pity. Not a word, unless I bring it up - and never a mention with the kids around.

Be Who You Are

2011-02-18T14:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Miss Dee.

You are a big, beautiful, growing 7 year old. Growing is the key word there - because you are growing up so fast - you will be 8 in a few short months.

8. Gulp.

And yet, there are other changes. You and your friends are just discovering body image, and 'things' - and yes, it worries me. It worries me, because those are things you should not even be concerned about. And trust me, it doesn't matter, even when you are older. You're 7. nearly 8. So please enjoy it. And please, remember what your Mum and I have told you so many times - your worth is not related to a number on a scale, nor in how other people perceive your looks. "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind". Keep that idea with you in coming years - it will hold you in good stead during the crazy teenage years, and beyond.

You are blessed to be surrounded by powerful, amazing women - women who can and will, teach you about life. Please listen to them. I know at the time, that they might sound silly or like they are trying to hold you back, but they do have your best interests at heart.

And finally, and above all, remember that you are loved by so many. I know that sometimes you feel lost in the crowd, but you're not as lost as you think you are. You are a talented beautiful girl whom will grow up into a beautiful, talented woman, who will be able to achieve whatever she sets her mind to.

Jojo.

"Hopeview"

2011-02-02T02:14:00.000-08:00

As I sit, at my new desk, in my new home, I am slightly startled at my own fears of it all being dragged away from me, and I still cannot understand our luck in finding a place like this.

So. back to the beginning. After finding out our lease was expiring (had been for a while...but oh well!) we began considering a move. The move. To get back on track with our lives. And maybe with our marriage too.

We began househunting as I mentioned in my last post – began hunting for a home – and any home would do. And then we stumbled across – the unit – this unit. It was perfect – the closest I had ever found to being my “dream” home. It was the windows that did it I think – huge windows overlooking a wild bushland park on two sides. Windows that make the home feel open, spacious, and overwhelmingly positive and hums with all the energy it can muster from the light that steams through them. I still cannot get enough of them – each morning I wake to a view that is always changing, and yet, assuredly the same with amazing black and silver of the gum tree trunks remaining solidly in the places where they have stood for so many years.

When I put the application in, I was so certain that the chances were that we could not get it. As it was to turn out – we did. This little home had been empty for 3 months, waiting patiently for us. And I have little doubt that it was especially for us – the move was like clockwork and our furniture now resides in a home that looks like it was built for it. It is small but managable – and I won't miss the stairs that we had in the old place.

We have called the house, “Hopeview”. This will be our home for at least the next six months – may it bring only the good, and if bad should come, may it be a refuge where it cannot enter, and never linger.

There are no bad spirits here.

If I am Honest - Part 2

2011-01-18T03:02:00.000-08:00

It was nice to hear from many of you on my last post - I know some of you haven't commented before, so "welcome!" if that is the case.

Taken by Hayley Thompson

I have got a couple of things to clear up a bit though! When I wrote the first post, I approached it from my perspective - from the structure that my marriage is built on and also, from my background - coming from a place where old habits die hard - and one of those habits still happens to be the belief that children are blessings - and are the "fruit" of a healthy, 'godly' marriage (quiver-full). I will admit I still have a hard time reconciling that old fundamentalist belief system with what I now 'believe' which is simply that children are blessings (without god) and our struggle to conceive has only helped to reinforce that perspective. Society's expectations have also played a part - "when are you going to have a baby now that you are married" is now a phrase that I hate with a vengeance. It takes till you are going through infertility to realise how much pressure society (in general) puts on couples in this area - fertility is very definitively linked to marriage success in the wider community.

And I would like to make clear that when we got married, we had already been together for a number of years and had an established relationship without children. We were already aware that we had issues conceiving, though at the time, we thought I was at fault. When I got married, a very small part of me superstitiously thought that 'getting married' should take care of that. Of course, I married my husband for more than just those reasons - I loved him, and still do.

But infertility has such a traumatic hand in your marriage - it impacts everything - and when I say everything, I mean everything. It is a deeply intimate thing for a start - and it strips your privacy, and all too often, the spontaneity out of your marriage. It isn't something that can just be ignored, or pushed away. It is there - constantly. I have complete understanding and compassion for those whom separate because of infertility - it could have been (and still could be) us. People say it should make our relationship/us stronger (and it undoubtedly has), but every marriage has a breaking point, and ours is no different.

I guess the last words here should go to my husband - (as written as a comment on my previous post, on facebook)

you know jo, i love being married to you, i may not show it always, but i do love you. yes the part of not having kids has been tough on both of us. as sometimes you may not believe that i get the reason you look after everyone elses kids, ...i infact do get it, it is your way of showing how much you are meant to be a mother, it is your way of loving another person when we dont have the ones we have lost.

and as to me, i am not the perfect husband, i can honestly say that i have let you down in alot of areas. yes, i have made alot of errors in judgement when it comes to finances. when it comes to work, i do try and i do fail. i do try to not let my faults get on top of me, but as much as i do try, i also fail at that.

but now, as we do start a new chapter in our lives, after reading what you said, i come to realise, that nothing can be taken for granted anymore, and we should start living life for the moments at hand, and look back on the good times, and not the bad. so as we endevour to spread our wings in a new chapter of our lives together, i want to say that i love you, i dont plan on taking you for granted any more, i will be here to help you as much as i can, i may not always show emotion like you want me to, but i will always be here to hold your hand and help you up when you fall down.

i love you very much jo, and look forward to a new chapter in our lives.

happy aniversary baby.

Jo.

2 Years - If I am Honest.

2011-01-16T01:41:00.000-08:00

As I reach my 2nd anniversary, I realise I now know less about marriage than I did when I started.

Marriage to me, was about the kids - the laughable, lovable babies that would surely come if I was married. I thought we had the love/life part down, and surely, the kids were next.

The reality is far, far different. The things that were supposed to come easily, didn't. The life I thought I would be leading, I am not. I signed up to be a mother and now, two years into our marriage, and 5 years into our relationship, I am not. I am a wife, without any children to legitimise our marriage, and without any real, tangible physical proof of our love. I think there is a part of me that will always mourn that loss.

Because yes, it is a loss. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think of the children that should be. I try to ignore it, but the ghosts of those children push in between us, ripping at the seams of our marriage, unpicking it one stitch at a time. I look at my husband and all I see is failure - both his and mine. We have achieved very little in the world's eyes, beyond beating the odds and staying together.

I tell myself that is a fact I should be celebrating this anniversary - our survival as a couple when the odds were stacked against us. But deep down, the "survival" badge is not what I want to celebrate - I want to celebrate a thriving, growing, living relationship, instead of one, that on so many levels, already feels restricted and half dead.

I am not perfect, on any level in this marriage, and neither is my husband. But as we step into our 3rd year of marriage, neither one of us know what it will bring. The certainty, the inevitability of 2 lives spent together, seems gone. Who knows? We might beat the odds, but I am tired of just scraping by - in our marriage, in our finances, and in our lives.

This move is a fresh start for me - and I refuse to say never. Because sometimes the never, is the only option left.

A new decade, a new life, and new start. And maybe I will still be married at the end.

Never say Never

We are QLD'ers.

2011-01-15T23:24:00.000-08:00

In one day of flooding, 17 lives lost- with 14 still missing. The youngest is just 23 months old.

Three quarters of Queensland has been directly effected by flooding - including my own city.

The impact this event has had on Queensland and beyond is immeasurable. Crops wiped out, towns gone.

But we will survive - as our Premier Anna Bligh said:

Change

2011-01-10T03:49:00.000-08:00

Well, it looks like we may be moving again. And strangely enough this time around - I am calm. I am not panicking - at least yet. Talk to me in another few weeks and I might have changed my tune!

But for now, I can totally see this move as good thing. It is time - we are ready. I guess that makes all the difference right now.

What will be, will be. Unlike the past times, I feel that we will find the right house and real estate agent for us.

The real question is whether or not our marriage will survive another move. But even that isn't something that I am all that worried about. What will be, will be.

2011 is going to be the year of change - of finding myself in my marriage, in my life and in the moment.

Jo

13 Days - Day 4

2011-01-10T01:56:00.000-08:00

13 Days - Day 2 & 3

2011-01-08T22:15:00.000-08:00

For

Lilith Faith

13 Days

2011-01-06T00:49:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, there comes a moment when all else fails into insignificance.

That moment was today when I learnt of my dear friend's terrible news. News so awful I can barely stand to write it.

After 13 days of bringing light and love into her parent's lives, tiny Lilith Faith (Littlest) left them for reasons not yet understood. And indeed, which will probably never be understood.

So in her memory - over the next 13 days (here on my blog and facebook), I will be doing a photo project - a photo (or several) for each day of her too short life.

Rest in Peace

Baby Girl

You were the most wanted, loved child.

Please go over to Jenny's site and offer any support that you can.

All I Can Say

2010-12-30T15:21:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year.

I am so glad to see the end of this decade and this year.
That is all I can really say.

Taken By Hayley Thompson

For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"

Merry Christmas!!

2010-12-23T15:02:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas!

May the spirit of Christmas bring you peace,

The gladness of Christmas give you hope,

The warmth of Christmas grant you love.

Author Unknown

Genetics and Heartache

2010-12-20T01:56:00.000-08:00

I just love looking at the kids I care for and see the little bits of me that pop out. Yes, we may not be genetically related, but the time I have spent with them teaching them, guiding them and caring for them has meant that they do pick some of my idiosyncrasies/mannerisms. Sometimes, that isn't a good thing, but it is certainly funny!

When I found out about our infertility (or even began suspecting we had it) one of my biggest fears was that I wouldn't get to pass on 'me': that I would be a 'genetic' dead end. It is a strange thing to realise that I am not as much of a "dead end" as I thought. I still don't know how I feel about that. My children should be the ones inheriting those things, not everybody else's!! But on the other hand, I pick up things from the kids too - the other day I was writing down the schedules and likes/dislikes of a few of them, and I was surprised at how much I could think of.

----------------------------------

The reason for my recent silence? It is complicated, but a lot of it has to do with Justin and his lack of action on the "temper" issues. I understand he is going through a really tough time, but right now I am just searching for where is the point were I have to say it is not healthy for me to stay - that it is best and safest for me (and him) to go for a time to allow him to really consider his priorities and what he wants now.

To say nothing of the fact that 2011 is the first year where I no longer hold any hope that 'this' will be our year to conceive a miracle. I am trying desperately to resign myself to the idea that babies won't be coming our way naturally - and thus (due to budget constrictions, mostly) won't arriving on our doorstep any time soon, and maybe, not ever.

Every other year, I have always had hope that we would get our miracle baby, and to be suddenly be approaching another year without a baby and without the ability to even fool myself thinking that we have a chance in the coming year - it is truly terrifying.

And perhaps more tellingly - this is the first year I don't want to write an annual update of our lives. I can't put a positive spin on this, I just can't. I have begun writing a number of times only to hit a wall of blind fury and sheer sorrow so deep I can't swim through it and make it okay. I might write it, or I might not. Bear with me ok?

I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had.

-The Wonder Years-

Blank.

2010-12-16T19:00:00.000-08:00

I have literally had this post sitting in a tab for about a week now, completely blank. I click over to begin to write, and then click away, because I don't know how, and even if, I should write what I feel.

Hang in there folks, it has been a bumpy ride, these past few weeks. An overwhelming, exhausting ride. And I am not off yet.

In the next few days I am really hoping to organise myself and write up my annual "A Year That Was" post, and update everyone on our recent happenings. :-) But for now, I really want to crawl into a quiet hole, and sleep.

Jo

Wikileaks

2010-12-09T17:10:00.000-08:00

Well, well. This week has been frantic. Non stop. Exhausting.

But even I, with barely any time to pay attention to any form of news, have noticed the furore over Julian Assange and Wikileaks.

Personally, I am appalled that someone can be so vilified for something as simple as releasing information. As far as I am concerned, all information to do with our governments (particularly democratic ones) should be shared publicly. But that is just me, and I recognise that others don't share that belief.

However, as Get Up points out in the below letter, Australia's Attorney General has confirmed that "no Australian nor international crime by wikileaks (sic) has been identified", despite the fact that our Prime Minister has already labelled Mr Assange's actions (in releasing this information) as "illegal".

I find it deeply disturbing that in America, the right of despicable organisations such as the Westboro Baptist Church to protest and publish their appalling way of thinking is protected, but Wikileaks is demonized and widely condemned for simply releasing legitimate, factual information.

So please read the below letter and give some thought as to what you will do.

Jo

________________________________________________________

Dear Friend,

Sarah Palin wants Julian Assange hunted as a terrorist ¹. She's among a swelling chorus of American politicians calling for the arrest - and even the death - of the Australian citizen who runs Wikileaks. It's a shame that real terrorists, of the kind that we should be focusing our attention, don't show up at British Police stations with their lawyers, as Wikileaks founder Julian Assange did yesterday.

Here in Australia, Prime Minister Gillard pre-emptively judged Mr. Assange "illegal," even as the Attorney General confirmed that no Australian nor international crime by wikileaks has been identified ².

The death penalty? Judgement before trial? This isn't the kind of justice system we have in Australia. If our Government won't stand up for the rights of Australian citizens, let's do it ourselves.

We're printing a huge ad in prominent American newspapers with the statement our Government should have made - signed by as many Australians as possible. Will you add your name to the signatories, and invite your friends to join too?

http://www.getup.org.au/campaign/mediafreedom

The statement:

Dear President Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder:

We, as Australians, condemn calls for violence, including assassination, against Australian citizen, Julian Assange, or for him to be labeled a terrorist, enemy combatant or be treated outside the ordinary course of justice in any way.

Australia and the United States are the strongest of allies. Our soldiers serve side by side to this day. We've experienced, and condemned, the consequences of terrorism together. To label Wikileaks a terrorist organisation is an insult to those Australians and Americans who have lost their lives to acts of terrorism and to terrorist forces.

As Thomas Jefferson said, "information is the currency of democracy" ³. Publishing leaked information in collaboration with major news outlets, as Wikileaks and Mr. Assange have done, is not a terrorist act.

If Wikileaks or their staff have broken international or national laws, let that case be heard in a just and fair court of law. At the moment, no such charges have been brought. We are writing as Australians to say what our Government should have: all Australian citizens deserve to be free from persecution, threats of violence and detention without charge, especially from our friend and ally, the United States.

We're printing this statement in the Washington Times and New York Times early next week - and the more Australians sign, the more powerful the message will be. Please add your name by clicking below, and forward this message to friends and family:

http://www.getup.org.au/campaign/mediafreedom

What has started with WikiLeaks being branded as terrorists won't end there.

In fact, just yesterday U.S. Senator Joe Lieberman, Chair of the Senate's Homeland Security Committee, said that the New York Times should also be investigated under the U.S. Espionage Act for publishing a number of the diplomatic cables leaked to Wikileaks ⁴. We can help stop such plans in their tracks, by showing how they are affecting the image of the US in the eyes of their staunchest friends and allies.

Click here to sign the statement before it's published in the New York Times and Washington Times.

Thanks for being part of this,
the GetUp team.

---
[1] Beckford, M., 'Sarah Palin: hunt WikiLeaks founder like al-Qaeda and Taliban leaders', The Telegraph, 30 November 2010.

[2] Oakes, L., 'Oakes: Gillard gushes over US leaks', Perth Now, 4 December 2010.

[3] The quote is widely attributed to Jefferson, but some now dispute whether he actually said it. We know, at least, that he said "knowledge is power," even if Francis Bacon did say it first.

[4] Savage, C., 'U.S. prosecuters study WikiLeaks prosecution', The New York Times, 7 December 2010.

Body Days.

2010-11-30T13:13:00.000-08:00

When I say I want/hope for a good day, what I really mean is that I want that day to be the day that I get my miracle BFP.

When I say I have had a bad day, it usually means I discovered yet more roadblocks on the path to the miracle BFP.

And some days, I just get overwhelmed by the pressure. The pressure to conform. To be another person. To be the thinner person I used to be. To be the perfect wife, daughter, and care giver.

You may have noticed my little 'blogger body' button on the sidebar. I added it for my friends, and for myself. Added it because of all the times when that little voice in my head told me I was fat, and disgusting. That little voice that has been in the head of my friends. That little voice that still peeps up, even though I am happy and confident in my body that has survived so much - and I have a real appreciation for that survival.

There is no shame to be had in admitting that you have heard and listened to that voice. Shame can only live in silence.

To my friends - embrace your body. Remember all the amazing things it does for you, and allows you to do. Every body has it's failings. There is no such thing as a perfect body. Don't stress the small stuff and focus on the big picture. As for men? There is a man out there to appreciate every body type, and not only that - if he is a good one, he just won't care...

Your body is your most amazing gift to yourself - appreciate it. Look after it, but don't smother it. Cut it some slack. :-)

Jo

And Now, We Wait,

2010-11-29T18:42:00.000-08:00

The gyno today told us they can't help us anymore. We did find out Justin's FSH hormone is low.

As the wonderful doctor said - if it was me, they could do a lot more. Not only that, but there is no point to further testing me, because Justin's problem is so big. The big "$" words were even brought up - IVF, sperm donor, adoption.

The next step is to get referred into the urologist - for more tests for Justin. That will be another long wait - lasting into the new year and beyond. And when we do get in, who knows how much longer it will be until we finally get a diagnosis. I foresee many years of waiting, and a great deal of money spent, before we even look like we are going to be having children.

Many years of other people having children, and many years of us having none. Sounds like heaps of fun. Why don't I just become the crazy cat lady now??!?!

Did I ever say how much I hate waiting? :-)

Jo

Steps...

2010-11-26T02:28:00.000-08:00

One step forwards. Two back.

Justin surprised me today. He went out and chose to talk with someone about the problems he/we have been having lately. It was a pastor (from the local Salvation Army), certainly, but it beats nobody. And if it is someone he trusts, I am all fine with that - and support it 100%. And it sure beats me dragging him to talk to someone! As long as this guy does something helpful, beyond just listening and promoting god as the answer, we should be fabulous!

The problem is that we then had another fight this afternoon. I got reminded that my mediation conference (for DOCS) is coming up next week, and completely panicked and lost it. He couldn't understand why I was crying and "just not dealing with it". Well, sorry honey. It isn't called PTSD for nothing! You have been married/partnered with me for long enough - so you should know that my coping skills can be appalling. Yes, I am still fuming a little - even though he did settle down, and was nice afterwards.

Bah. Such fun. Nobody said any of this would be easy. I keep reminding myself of that. And one step forwards, is still one step in the right direction.

But right now? It is cold comfort - I want to hope. I want to persevere. I want my husband back with none of the anger that clouds him right now. Is that too much to ask?

Jo

Inspired

2010-11-25T18:58:00.000-08:00

When I was younger, I wanted to be a missionary to India. I wanted to work in an orphanage. Of course with life, and my de-conversion, that idea drifted to the wayside.

And then, recently I stumbled across this -

http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/

And was completely and utterly inspired. I want to go. The yearning is back - just in a different form. I don't want to bring Jesus any more though, I just want to bring help.

I know, I know, the chances of me ever doing something like are so small - to say nothing of all the preperation, and the fact that I have a husband whom likes his creature comforts a little too much. But maybe, just maybe, it is what we need. We, the spoiled white people, whom have no idea about poverty - or death. Yes, we donate to the Red Cross, and the Fred Hollows Foundation, but it is just a drop in the ocean, and we have no real concept of how life is over there.

Jo

A Word of Thanks

2010-11-23T12:50:00.000-08:00

Thanks - the comments have been so amazing for us to read.

It is not over until we say it is. And we haven't - yet. Threatened it many times. Fought over it many times.

I don't want infertility to beat us. Never give up. Never surrender.

Do you hear me? I'm talking to you

Across the water across the deep blue ocean

Under the open sky, oh my, baby I'm trying

Boy I hear you in my dreams

I feel your whisper across the sea

I keep you with me in my heart

You make it easier when life gets hard

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be coming home again

~ Lucky, Jason Mraz ~

It Could be Me....

2010-11-20T22:49:00.000-08:00

You hear of so many couples separating in the infertility community - the stress becomes too much - or a formally small issue becomes huge and insurmountable.

And whenever I read another separation/divorce announcement, it terrifies me. It could be me.

I love my husband. But like any relationship, we have our bumps. And we have had some big ones - serious illness, loss, and financial difficulties, just to name a few. Neither one of us is perfect - certainly not in the way we act as human beings, in our marriage, and in our friendships. I would like to think the good outweighs the bad, and I guess that for now, it does. But then I think, it could be me.

I have touched on Justin's recent mood changes here before. Of late, he has been getting angry - angry at me, angry at anything that doesn't go his way. He has always been stubborn, but of late it has been an entirely new beast. A scary new beast. Everyone else in our lives are beginning to notice it, too. Which means that, yes, it is a problem - one that is particularly unacceptable with the presence of the kids in our lives. Right now, it has had minimal impact - but in the future? I am not so sure. And then I think, it could be me.

Personally I think it is because of the recent flood of bad news he has received - which in essence, has attacked everything he always believed about himself - and indeed, the very definition of what he is - as a man. He is taking it out on everybody, and not dealing with it properly. And yet, he cannot see it - he only sees it as a tiny problem - not realising the impact it is having on me and our friends. And in my most quiet moments after yet another fight I think, it could be me.

I have told him that this behaviour is unacceptable. There are two of us hurting - and that does not mean that we should hurt each other or others. I accept that everyone has to release tension sometimes, but to be losing your temper every 5 minutes over the littlest thing? That isn't ok. I don't want infertility to beat us - we have already survived so much and beaten the odds more times then I care to think of. And I don't want to think any longer that it could be me.

I want to have hope in our marriage. I want to feel like all the issues aren't insurmountable, and that I won't have to tackle them all myself. That I will have a husband that walks beside me, not several steps behind or ahead. I want to be with a settled, reliable man, not a man that throws temper tantrums a 2 year old would be proud of.

So, I am going to get us into some therapy (with his permission) - not just for him, but for me too. I think we both need it, and our marriage deserves it. And maybe, just maybe, having a third party will help settle this.

And maybe, just maybe, it won't be us.

Jo

My thoughts and love go out to those of you whom are now part of that unwanted club. You did not fail. You did what was best for you - and that is truly amazing. I am in awe of your strength and sense of self.

Dream Babies and Creme de la Creme

2010-11-16T14:10:00.000-08:00

Guys, thank you so much for your awesome comments and support. It was just amazing to read them all in my inbox as they came in overnight. The heart still aches - but it is nice to know that I am not the only one.

I don't know if anyone has done this or experienced it - but I have always been able to picture in my mind what our future children could look like - imagine them right down to personalities. And right now, it is like my imagined children are dead or have completely disappeared from my life. I know, I know, it sounds really dramatic - but to me, it is a real feeling. My dream babies are now just that - dreams. The chances that they could become reality feels so out of the realm of possibility right now.

That is the most devastating thing right now - I loved my babies before they were ever conceived - and now, I am left with the very real option that I will never have children of my own to love. And I have to be open and realistic about that possibility. I just can't put my head in the sand and ignore it. I wish I could.

Probably sound totally batty right now, huh? :-)

____________________________________

So Creme de la Creme is coming up again. And I really can't decide which blog entry to use. Too emotionally drained I think!

So I am opening a poll in the sidebar.

The 4 options are:

The Unwanted Spice

When I Shut the Front Door

Thoughts on Release

The Power of a Sole Voice

However, if there is another entry that you love and think would be great for Creme de la Creme, leave a comment and let me know! :-)

Jo.

Zero.

2010-11-15T20:11:00.000-08:00

The second lot of tests are back.

Zero sperm again.

We are still waiting on the chromosomal test results.

I feel terribly, terribly lonely. Whenever Justin gets news like this, he goes into his own little world, where I can't reach him. We are both such innately independent people - and we deal with things so differently that news like this always tests our relationship. I need closeness, he needs distance. He does come back to me, eventually - but I am so frightened that one day, he won't.

One day at a time.

Jo

Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are.

Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

Words of Weight.

2010-11-13T04:02:00.000-08:00

I guess the thing that still surprises me (and which I hope always will), is how little thought people can give to the weight of their words - particularly out here in the internet universe. I know, I know - it is somewhat hypocritical - I do it too!

I was in a situation today where someone's words online made me very, very angry. They were carelessly throwing around words that carry huge weight - and the actions that the words describe have a huge impact on both individuals and the world in general. I will freely admit that I did fire off a quick, biting reply.

Have you ever noticed general society's habit of carelessly throwing around words like abuse, torture, monster, rape or paedophile etc? I question how someone could use these words in anything less then a respectful manner - I could not imagine doing otherwise myself. No doubt however, that this perspective is probably due to my own experiences with those words.

But in saying that, I really do think that the way we treat those words, directly links into how we treat the people that have had experiences with those words - whose life has been touched by the actions those words describe. I have seen from observation, that those whom joke about abuse/rape etc, have been the ones that have struggled the most in helping the survivor/people effected - to the extreme of being downright callous - and unthinking in their treatment of that survivor.

These are words with weight - these are words that represent experiences - terrible experiences that have destroyed lives and hurt human beings - to say nothing of those that are no longer living because of them. These words have a deep meaning - to the people whose lives they have touched. And that web of people is bigger then you would think. Abuse has the ultimate knock-on effect - in the long term, it impacts parents, siblings, extended family, children, friends - this is particularly true when the victims aren't supported or given therapy.

This leads me to ask why do we as a society then feel it is ok to say things like "she was dressed/acted slutty, so she asked for it" or "it wasn't rape, she enjoyed it" or "it wasn't rape because you can't say no after you have said yes to _______ ". I also don't understand why it is a subject that is widely treated as 'ok' to joke about. Those jokes hurt - and on the days when you are down, just confirm what is in your head already.

It is a social problem - an awareness problem. Just because something can be said, doesn't mean it should. But equally, sometimes those words need to be said - to be expressed. But in the proper way, in the proper time.

Jo

Blog Neglect and other Matters

2010-11-09T14:43:00.000-08:00

Well, well, I have been rather neglectful of this blog lately. Sorry about that.

Finally life has slowed down a little, allowing me to regain some sense of rest and relaxation. Something which I have desperately needed. My body has been humming along fart to close to empty for too long now.

Why? Beyond my desperate urge to keep busy (and admittedly, my problems with saying 'no' definitely play into that), there is, of course, the medical stuff. Ah, yes, the never-ending medical stuff!

At this stage I have doing ok with the IBS/Crohns stuff. With the help of medication, it has been kept at a bearable level. The tiredness is there, but I think it is more because of the medications I am on.

My biggest obstacle at the moment is the arthritis/sacrillitis. My joints are refusing to operate as they should. This weekend when I was taking photos (meaning having to climb on top of things, and lie down on the ground etc), was particularly bad. I definitely paid for it (pain wise) later, to say nothing of the embarrassment it causes when you have to ask for help to get up/down. As I proclaimed on Facebook, my joints are 22 years old, not a 100! They should act like it!

On a final (unrelated) note:

Mr Bush, torture is torture! It is NOT ok to stoop to their level, just to get bits of information (which may or may not be true) you could have gotten in other ways. How can you expect your citizens that are POW/prisoners of the other side to be treated well, when you treat your own POW/prisoners so appallingly?

David Kosh (from Sunrise, an Australian breakfast show), you just lost all my respect as a journalist (not that I had much of that to begin with) and human being for agreeing with him.

Jo

Quiverfull on Sunday Night.

2010-10-31T17:21:00.000-07:00

Just thought I would give a quick link to Sunday Night's program the other night on Quiverfull.

Quiverfull - Sunday Night

They talked to the Campbells - I kept wondering if I had been that self-righteous and hypocritical - and yes, I probably was! Thank god I got out before I was of an age to attend one of Nancy Campbell's seminars myself - I would have brought it hook, line and sinker. I don't know how much more devastating my infertility would be if I had. Ugh!

I found interesting however, the things they got wrong - particularly the way they made it sound as if QF/Fundamentalism was relatively new here in Australia. It isn't - it has been going for the last 20 years here. Yes, there is a new generation, but a large proportion of the older/first generation have left and chosen to remain largely silent, giving the impression that it is only a relatively new trend. But still, a little bit of research would have been appropriate - there are some first generation Aussies speaking out! :-)

Overall however, I was very impressed, so do go over and check it out!

Jo

Bogeymen in the Closet.

2010-10-28T22:06:00.000-07:00

It is so ironic. So many of the parents and people that I meet are afraid of the bogeyman - the (at least, personally) unknown bogeyman. At the moment it is Dennis Ferguson - everyone is concerned about where he is and what he is doing. I admit, what he did was appalling and horrific. However, I am not worried about him re-offending - the truth is that he is so notorious now, that no one in their right mind would allow their children near him. Not only that, but if he ever was to be sighted in the company of children he would be instantly recognised and reported.

My problem is that people seem to forget that the "successful" ones are the ones that never get caught. The fact is that you are more at risk of having your child molested by someone you know, then some stranger at the park, or Dennis Ferguson. Seriously.

You have to be so, so careful with whom you trust your children with, and even then recognise that even those people can be capable of evil.

It is a far bigger problem then just Dennis Ferguson (and let me just stress again - I am not downplaying his terrible actions at all). There are so many other horrifying cases that you never hear of, that don't make the press. And the accused in those cases get to walk around in the community after they are released - nameless and faceless - and to me at least, a much bigger threat.

A paedophile does not always look as stereotypical as Mr Ferguson does - they can, and do reintegrate into society. After all, they have often had years of training and practice at lying and covering their tracks. They are much, much smarter then we often give them credit for. But above all, they have often had years of living as 'normal' individuals - as sons, husbands, partners and fathers - and all too often, they are too good at it.

Which is why I always say to parents - be alert. Learn from my story and from others. And above all, WATCH YOUR KIDS. Don't just assume because you know them, that they are good people.

It isn't the scary bogeyman we should be afraid of - in fact, being afraid doesn't help anyone. But please, be alert, and listen to your kids. Talk to them - communicate, instead of teaching them to fear a select few.

And talk to your local members of parliament - we don't have a public registry of child sex offenders like many other countries (including the US) have. We should, so that light can get into that closet and scare the bogeymen away. We need light - we need facts, not our heads in the sand. This problem isn't going away.

Jo

Fraud.

2010-10-21T23:09:00.000-07:00

Last time I posted, I shared my complete and utter feeling of being a fraud. I didn't however, share why I felt that way.

All my work lately has been with children, and caring for them. Or taking photos of them. Because I have been caring on a more scheduled basis, and because more of my friends have children, I have been going to a lot more mummy/baby based events, and meeting mummies outside my circle of friends.

At first, nearly every single person has mistaken the child (or children) for my own and asks 'the questions' about the kids. I usually answer them politely, and mention that this child is not my own - that I am indeed babysitting and have no children of my own. The conversation is then usually ended fairly quickly. It often seems like that unless you have physically carried a child in your womb, your years of experience do not matter, and are not worth very much.

And trust me, I recognise that I am missing that vital ingredient - painfully aware of it. But I can definitely relate to what it is like to have screaming baby that won't settle, or a fractious toddler, or an excessively talkative 6 yr old. Certainly, I didn't experience labour or birth, but that does not, and should not, cancel out my experiences.

And yet, that feeling of being a fraud remains. I will freely admit that as I sit there caring for a child not my own, I do wish I was caring for a baby of my own instead of someone else's. And then I feel guilty, because I should be able to hold and care for that child without thinking that. So I strive to be the "perfect" carer, even though I know that I will fail - because no one can ever be that perfect. But yet I try, because if I cannot "perfectly" look after these kids that are borrowed, how will I ever care for those that are my own? So I love, pamper and cherish these kids in the vain hope that I will somehow erase my own body's failings, and erase anything horrible I may have done.

"IF thinking" is everywhere, now, trapping me in a never-ending cycle of seeking perfection and failure - a cycle of being fake.

Jo

When I Shut the Front Door

2010-10-20T01:02:00.000-07:00

Of late, I have frantically busy - literally never stopping except to sleep. Even today, the one day I had set aside for me to rest, I could not stop.

And then it hit me, I have been running. Running from the very real reality that we are facing - that there is a chance that we will never be able to have children. Just today I caught myself saying "Our first girl child will be named ______ ". There are no guarantees any more that we will even get one child. Let alone the four I have always dreamed of and planned for.

How do you process that? How do you come to peace with that? Particularly when I am a woman whom likes to plan. Likes to know where she is going, and how she is going to get there. All of a sudden I have no control, and no say. And so, I do what I do best - get busy and ignore the facts that are staring me in the face.

They say ignorance is bliss, and maybe it is for some. But for me, it just prolongs the inevitable, and the bliss it creates is not real.

I will say however, that my time has been taken up doing things I love - escaping into the things that bring me pleasure, albeit momentarily.

But when I shut my front door, I feel tired. I feel angry. I feel slighted by a world that I cannot claim to understand any more. The silence stands as an ever lurking sign of my failure to become a parent. That I am just playing make believe, and trying to be something I am not - a mother. Regardless of how much I think I deserve that title of mother, it is not mine to own - yet. And some days, the very worse of days, I think I will never own it - that it has escaped my grasp for forever - and that I will be fated to be playing make-believe for the rest of my life.

Jo

This Day is Mine

2010-10-19T02:24:00.000-07:00

Sipping summer through the air
Blows over the green to me
Leave behind spider lines
Underneath the tree where I was sitting

Finger trailing through the grass
Gently kiss my thoughts as they go
My feet are weightless carried on silver notes
Coming up from daffodils
Dance beside the road and

This day is mine this day is mine

Cartwheel leaves pass my feet
Tickling the ground as they go
Cardigan on my shoulders
Takin in the colours of the park
I've got the feeling of that first strech
in the morning going on and on and on
Got my hallo swinging on my finger
For frisbee with the sun

This day is mine
This day is mine

- Emma's Imagination -

Adorable, Gorgeous Photos and Privacy...

2010-10-17T02:56:00.000-07:00

Of late, I have been very busy taking photos - of other people's adorable babies, and gorgeous children - so adorable and gorgeous in fact, that I have literally taken 1000's of photos lately! Stop the cute baby making, friends! You are making my ovaries hurt!

These are however, photos that I haven't chosen to share here or on my photography blog. Why?

Recently, innocent photos of Madeline Sphor were found saved on a paedophile computer. This rather appalling, and terribly sad situation made me think long and hard about the photos I have displayed online of other people's children. I am usually very careful about safety settings etc, but I have slipped up in the past. After Facebook changed its privacy settings without letting me know, some of my photos were taken by a biological parent of one of the children I cared for - which he then displayed as his own (and took credit for), without ever contacting me about them. This shook me up horribly - and made me feel very violated. For me, the most appalling thing was not that he took my images, but that he took them without permission from a person that he had never met.

That and the current situation with the Sphors, made me rethink my formally relaxed privacy perspective. I now triple check if I can post photos of kids, even on facebook.

I will no longer be posting photos (or at least, ones that are identifiable, even with their parents permission) here in this space, or on my photography blog. In fact I have privatised the photography blog - with a view to eventually clear it altogether - for one thing, I haven't been updating it at all - mostly because I just have been too busy, and also, have just been taking too many photos to keep them updated!

Jo

Blogoversary - No. 4

2010-10-05T00:06:00.000-07:00

That is right - I have been blogging for 4 years. Pretty incredible.

In that time, I have written just over 400 entries - 100 a year.

I look back, and I cannot believe how much has changed.

In these 4 years:

Justin and I had been dating/living together for just under a year when I began. Now, we have been together for nearly 5 and married for close to 2.
My father had not been sentenced or been taken to court at the start. Now he has, and even served some of his sentence, and been released on parole. But most of all, the door to that chapter in my life is finally sliding shut, after a very long wait.
When I first began, even though I had some small suspicions at the time, we didn't really know about our infertility. 4 years on - diagnosed with MFI, and some form of egg release problems for me. It just blows your mind really.
We have moved about 6 times.
We have met and fallen in love with a gorgeous bunch of kids, whom we are absolutely privileged to take care of at various times in the past few years - 11 fabulous kids (ranging in age from newborn to 7) at last count. Yes, you read right - 11!! I am fated to care for many, and be mother to none I think sometimes!
We have made some appalling financial decisions, and are slowly working our way out of them. The END is nigh - I hope!
I left university after a number of great years there. It just became too much.
Together we have survived a major surgery, autoimmune diseases, crazy medication side effects, and general bad health.
I have changed the backgrounds, colours, and fonts of this blog more times then I can count. Have also changed the name once or twice - most recently from "Musings of a Princess" to "Finding Her Way" - to reflect the life changes I was experiencing.

There is a lot to celebrate, and lot to mourn about in that list.

And guess what?

I have blogged about it all!

Happy 4th Blogoversary

Finding Her Way

Hopes, Plans and Wishes in the Breeze

2010-10-03T06:22:00.000-07:00

After being away from the computer for a couple of days, it was so lovely to come back to your amazing messages in my inbox. I felt surrounded by hugs and love, and by women whom have gone through the same thing. And after the week I have had, it was needed, and greatly appreciated. You made my day. :-)

Right now, we are taking one day at a time. Our next appointment is in 2 weeks, and we have more tests to go through between then and now.

I keep reminding myself that is isn't the end of the road. There are lots of reasons for the zero sperm count result - and I just hope it is one we can fix or deal with. The what-ifs some days are overwhelming, regardless of how much we try to ignore them.

But mostly, I keep focusing on today and the tiny ray of hope, because I have no idea what we are going to do if this doesn't pan out. We really don't have back up plan for this.

We don't know if we will even get 'a' baby now - let alone the large family we always wanted. So many of our hopes, plans and wishes now float freely in the breeze - out of reach, at least for now.

A favourite quote says:

There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.
I will be better not because of genetics, or money or that I have read more books,
but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.
I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed.
I have endured and planned over and over again.
Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.
I will notice everything about my child.
I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover. I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.
I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.
I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see.
Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.
I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain.
I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body, I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.
I have prevailed.
I have succeeded.
I have won.
So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.
I listen.
And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely. I have learned the immerse power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.
I have learned to appreciate life.

The Unwanted Spice Part 2

2010-09-27T22:14:00.000-07:00

Just when you seem to be friends with life again, it seems to like to push you down again.

It appears to be (major) male factor infertility, at least from the initial results.

We are devastated.

I guess that unwanted spice will be in our food for quite some time to come.

Jo

Meeting Dragonfly...

2010-09-27T13:17:00.000-07:00

I met up with "Dragonfly" a few weeks ago now, but haven't (as yet) blogged about our meeting. I had to take some time to absorb the information, and up until recently, just haven't had an opportunity to.

Well, considered it absorbed!

M (brother) and I met her together, as we had both known her during the "Grace Bible" years. Admittedly, M has very few memories of that time: in fact, we both do, but I do remember the odd flashes about visiting her large family - the details of those visits however, sadly escape me.

We met at a local, comfortable restaurant, and sat down for a wine and a bite to eat, and by god! Did we talk! We did after all, have a lot of catch up on: close to 10 years, of news and gossip to catch up on! I am very certain we could have spent hours more just catching up.

M and I told the old, worn story of how our family came to self destruct and re-construct into it's current form. She told hers.

I was fascinated by the similarities between stories, between the long term impacts that we have all felt. The links are definitely there, strong and binding. But equally, I was interested in how the issues have been dealt with differently.

Her story, my story rang in my head the rest of that day. After we left, M and I talked haltingly about what we heard, what we had seen. We talked about the differences, about the similarities: about what we wished we (and our parents) had known all those years ago.

M and I have both experienced family breakdown at different ends of the scale: him as younger, me as older. Whilst the age gap is only 3 years, the difference it has had on our experiences is dramatic. I find this all too common in former fundamentalist families: the long term impact on the younger siblings is reduced. Don't get me wrong, there is still an impact, just in a very different way. The younger ones have fewer memories, and more often then not, experienced a more relaxed version of the "rules" compared to the older ones.
This does not mean that the older ones are lying or exaggerating their stories, as is so often said. It just means their experiences differ - no one (even in healthy family environments) has the exact same experience of "family". People's rush to cancel out someone's (or even their own) experience on the basis of that person's (or their) brother's (or sisters) experiences, is deeply disturbing to me.

Even then, in my case, the similarities are unmistakable. These experiences do ultimately unite over the differences, and the sharing of them serve to remind us that we are never as alone as we think. Some one else has worn these shoes (albeit in a different size sometimes) and walked this path.

It is for those that still think they are alone that I write. I remember all too strongly the years when I thought I was all alone, that the world had forgotten me in their rush to forgive my father. I thought I would never be free to speak up and speak out. Well, I did. It just took me a very long time!

"You're not alone, there is more to this I know. You can make it out, you will live to tell."
— You're Not Alone, Saosin

The Unwanted Spice.

2010-09-25T19:38:00.000-07:00

I came across this today: and it really got me thinking about what type of parent I would make if we ever get a living baby one day, and also (and perhaps more importantly), what sort of child/baby carer I make now.

I have all these grand ideals about parenthood: and lists of things I would like to do with my kids. I always wonder about what sort of parent I will be outside the the realm of 'religion', and with the added confusion and intensity that infertility invariably adds.

However, I often forget that I am blessed with the very real experiences of pseudo-parenting right now. I care for children/babies on a daily basis. I know all too well the trials of a screaming, teething toddler, and the frustrations of a child whom has an attitude and knows all too well how to use it!

Without a doubt, though, infertility has definitely impacted the way I care for these children/babies. I enjoy them far more, and have really learned the value of patience. I treasure my time with them, although it means that my return to my empty home is all the more difficult. Each time I spend with them is special, regardless of how much time I have spent with them previously, or how many time I have sung that nursery rhyme or rocked another baby that very same way. Like a spice added to a bland, predictable dish, infertility now hums (and sometimes roars) its song through the melody that is my life and my life with the children I care for.

For all of that, infertility is still unwelcome here.

Jo

Backs should DIE!!

2010-09-20T05:39:00.000-07:00

Has anyone else noticed that when your body is somewhat literally screaming at you to rest, the more and more busier you seem to get? Ugh. Stop this ride, I am ready to get off. :-s At least, physically, anyway.

My back has been proving more and more difficult to work with. My recent few days with 3+ kids under 4 certainly proved that. Literally ended up flat on my back by the end of each day! Appalling really. It makes me feel old.

To me it just reinforces my need to have children as soon as possible. If it doesn't happen soon, there is no way in hell I will be able to manage and deal with then and my back/knee problems. It will just be a physical impossibility. I already drag myself up off the floor playing with them, like an old woman! I shudder what I will be like in 5, 10 and even 15 years time. :-S

Oh good god. I am stopping now, before I give myself a heart attack!!!

At What Price? Part 2

2010-09-10T16:42:00.000-07:00

I did have another post simmering about the meet up I had with fellow blogger Dragonfly from A Dragonfly Diary.

But then something amazing happened. Something I have been waiting on, for many years now.

I won.

For once, Guy did not sneak off, or get off lightly. For once, he is going to have to pay for what he is done, in full. For once, the system worked.

However, it is a terrible shame, and an appalling thing, that money had to become involved for that to happen.

I was awarded 50% (of the maximum you can get in personal injury) in compensation by the court: an unbiased third party. Ironically, it was the same court (different judge) whom let him get off so lightly when he was sentenced.

For me, it feels unbelievable. It feels like that I am finally being believed, and acknowledged, something I didn't feel when he was sentenced. They even went above and beyond what I expected, or even hoped for (we were thinking 30%). I was prepared to be let down yet again.

But most of all, I finally feel free. Finally feel that for a large part, that chapter of my life is closed. I am sure that it may re-open from time to time. I am also sure that I will never forget it, and the lessons it has taught me.

But freedom is priceless. I feel like I have finally finished something, albeit with some very major help.

A shout out goes out here to my lawyer, Terry Tummon at Rees R Sydney Jones. He has been the driving force behind the scenes. and have done an amazing job.

Jo :-)

Day 1.

2010-08-30T00:25:00.000-07:00

All my my readers are warned that this is a post definitely orientated towards my fellow infertiles. ;-) Details ahead!

_____________________________________________

Well, well.

I hadn't posted on on infertility related stuff lately because there was nothing to tell. My tests and appointments had been postponed, first by other appointments that I had on, and then by the hospital themselves.

But unlike my usual self, my body has actually preformed for once and started a cycle exactly on time.It has even excelled and timed itself with exactly the right amount of time for me do all the blood tests I need to do before my next appointment at the end of next month (that is if they don't cancel/change it on me again).

So today is DAY 1 of the 'test' cycle. :-) At this stage, my first blood test is due 2 days from now.

Woot. First and only time that I suspect you will ever see me be happy about having a period!

Jo

Thoughts on Release...

2010-08-28T03:58:00.000-07:00

I wrote this at the time of my father's release. For a number of reasons, I didn't publish it at the time. It was all too raw, too new.

So why am I sharing this now? Well, mostly because I only recently re-discovered it, and secondly, because there isn't a lot of stuff out there about what happens after an offender has been released. I think it is an important part of the story that must be told.

It (whatever 'it' is) doesn't get better or just end when someone gets sent to jail and serves their time (and in my father's case, he did not even serve half of his sentence). The impact continues, and my case, I definitely struggled more after his release as this old draft shows.

---------------------

Hi All,

I expected to be more prepared for when he got out. Expected that I could deal with it. That it wouldn't stress me out: that I can focus on my normal, day to day life.

I had hoped, against all evidence, that he wouldn't contact my family: that he had gotten the message to stay away.

The facts are he hasn't. He has contacted my Mum and brother, and my Grandmother (his Mum). All within the first few days of being out. And my brother had a full on conversation with him. My mum didn't talk to him, but he certainly wanted to talk to her.

The scary thing is that he is still in denial: still thinks people are lying about him. Still thinks that he has been miraculously forgiven by his God.

The facts are irrefutable. This is a man that committed terrible atrocities over 20+ years. Things that are so crazy, I try to forget about them. Things that I cannot conceive of doing. It disturbs me even more because I am related to this man, something which I cannot change, no matter how much I want to. Emotionally I am not: I divorced myself from him long ago: but physically? I see the similarities every day, and it scares me. You cannot just wipe out 17 years of history either, no matter how hard you try. You can try to come to peace with it: but ultimately, this is just a wish...it will always be there.

I get a lot of comments about moving on: particularly from family. They seem to think it is all a matter of will. If it was, don't you think I would have worked out a way to deal with it? My will power is sheerly focused on getting through each day and creating a healthy relationship with my husband and family. Shutting it out is a lovely short term option, but long term it just makes it worse. For me anyway. I don't think there is ever a single solution that suits and helps everyone in this situation. Everyone deals with it in their own way: not necessarily in a healthy way at times, but in their own way nevertheless.

---------------------

A few years on and with the benefit of hindsight, I think most of those observations still hold true. As I said, those first few months after his release were particularly stressful. I was scared: terrified really, of a huge number of possibilities. Some of those possibilities came true, some did not. I am not going to lie: a lot of those terrors remain.

I trust that one day they will fade away, but they will take their own sweet time. Right now, they still need a band aid (in medication form), to help stem the bleeding. It is my hope that one day that will be no longer the case.

For now, one day at a time.

Jo

Important Blogging, Important Support

2010-08-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

One of my favourite bloggers (Aunt Becky of Mummy Wants Vodka) asks "Why [is] blogging important?".

Aunt Becky, I am glad you asked!! Mostly because I have been having a little bit of a writer's block lately, so it is fantastic that you have given me some inspiration!

For me, blogging is all about the experience, the sharing, the ability to promote things that matter to me. It also allows me to connect to people with similar life experiences. Most importantly, it allows me to be honest and frank about topics that are usually never discussed.

I feel particularly passionate about raising awareness of childhood sexual abuse, and the long term impacts of a fundamentalist upbringing. Blogging allows me to do that, to a far wider audience then I could have gotten in my off-line life.

Blogging is important because it allows me to do all those things: and more, if I was to so choose. Not only that, but it doesn't discriminate: anyone can start a blog, about anything they want. And ultimately, anyone can choose to support anyone: and leave kind words of support.

Like any community, it has its downsides too. Mummy Wars, nit picking other bloggers, the big bloggers ignoring/not supporting the little ones, troll comments, the list goes on. People's imperfections get carried over from the real world, and can be amplified by the convenient anonymity the internet affords.

That being said, it is a small problem in the scheme of things, and to me, the aforementioned benefits of blogging far outweigh the negatives. You can delete a nasty comment: but you cannot even begin to delete (or comprehend) the positive impacts blogging has had on the stay at home mum, the infertile community, etc. The support it has offered them is priceless.

Blogging Rocks!

Jo

Voices from the Past: Letters of Joan L Palmes: Part 2

2010-08-17T22:22:00.000-07:00

March 6th

Dearest Mummy,

I was so pleased to get your letter. I am so sorry that Daisy went so soon & and I do hope you will be able to get someone else soon.

I hope Bubbles liked riding Phantom. She would probably find her a very lazy walker though. When is she (Bubbles) coming back to Brisbane, do you know?

No, Lois isn't in the Brokway (swiming race). She would have been in it, I think, only she wasn't at the Boorroolaban baths to swim off last Friday.

The Brokway is next Saturday and we are all beginning to get excited. We practised the "War-cry" today and also got our colours.

No, I haven't written to Mrs Barrett yet, but I will make a point of writing on Sunday.

Did you see see a picture in the paper not long ago of some of the girls doing their mending. I am not in it - was practising at the time, I think - but Mavis & Lois are in it. Mavis is sitting on the chair in the middle & Lois is about 4 th from the right with her head bent down.

By the way, you know the day you went home, well when I came back through the vestibule Mavis was there & she wanted to see you so I went back again to see if you were there but you had gone.

I do hope Bruno has written to you.

Rita, Matha, Mavis & Lois send their love to you.

This is a very hurried letter but I am writing it on Wednesday night in prep!!

Please give my love to everyone, and lots to yourself.

Your loving daughter

Joan

P.S. Don't work too hard!!

"Sarah"

-----------------------------------------

March 10th. 1935

Dearest Mother,

I was so pleased to get your letter. I suppose Aunty Mon will be here this week - I will be expecting her to come and see me sometime. It will be great because I haven't had a visitor since you went home.

I do hope the stupid strike at the abbortroirs has come to an end and that you will be able to come down at Easter.

It was silly of Daisy to go away so soon and leave you all the work to do.

I went to Dr. Rosentengel on Friday and had my second tooth drawn. He said that Diana Bill had been in and asked about me.

Well our great day of excitement is over. The Brokway was swum yesterday and our team won both the Senior and the Junior races. It was very exciting and as soon as our team had ~~one~~ won we all stood up and sung our war-cry and then the school that came second sung theirs.

Our team also won the Senior and Junior Championships, and this win caused more excitement. We were last in the life-saving but we won the other four.

Mrs Shaw has asked Lois to ask me to go down to Fairmont for mid-term and, of course, I gladly accepted.

This is not a very long letter but I will write a longer one next time.

Please give my love to Eva and John and also to Margot.

Your loving daughter,

Joan

-----------------------------------------

March 14th., 1935

Dearest Mummy,

Well it is nearly mid-term, - Wednesday to-day and we go out on Friday morning at 10 a.m. I going out to Fairmont with Lois and I am sure I will be shy and won't enjoy myself a bit! However I will probably be ~~allr~~ all right when I get out there.

How is the old, I mean new!, dodge? You must have had a rotten trip over to Coominglah but Aunty Mon would ~~apprech~~ appreciate it.

Golly! It was great of the Correspondence school to choose my exercise book to send out as an example!!

No I haven't had a letter from Bryan since you went home. I wrote to him a few weeks ago but have not received an answer yet.

I hope you gave Booey my love when you went over to ~~Kiu~~ Kurrajong.

Mummy, dear, I do hope that this business of putting us at school hasn't cost too much. To me some the bills seemed to mount up to an awful lot. And now this wretched meat strike - I do hope you are not having trouble at home with all the work & all the books and everything to do as well.

Don't bother about my clothes will you until you have everything settled and on the go again.

Please don't bother about an evening frock 'cause I really don't need one.

Well I must get on with my prep now. I am just scribbling this letter I am afraid, because no reads it tonight.

Lots & lots of love from

Joan

Voices from the Past: Letters of Joan L Palmes

2010-08-17T05:48:00.000-07:00

Just over 75 years ago, my great aunt took up her pen and began to write a series of letters to her mother (my great grandmother). She wrote of her experiences living as a girl on the cusp of womanhood in a boarding school in Brisbane. She wrote of her homesickness, and her brother (my grandfather: Bryan Palmes aka Bruno). She wrote beautifully, elegantly, and portrayed a maturity far beyond her then 14 years.

These letters have been stored since that time in a simple cardboard chocolate box.

Joan Lindsay Palmes's (aka Sarah Bones) words come from a time long gone, and a different world. At the time of these letters, her father had already passed away due to a car accident, and her mother was left to run "Glandore": the family's cattle station alone, whilst her two children were away in Brisbane. The pain this separation caused is obvious in the letters Joan wrote to her mother.

The first letter that I have is dated the 24th of February, 1935. I plan to present these letters as close as possible to the originals, which are in very fragile condition, thanks in part to how they have been stored (as they were sent, often in their original envelopes). As far as I know the reply letters have been lost, which is why we will only be really hearing from Joan. At odd points I will add in the few letters I have from my grandfather, written during the same time.

-----------------------------------------

Somerville House,

Sth. Brisbane

Feb, 24 th. 1935.

Dear Mum and Aunty Mon,

I hope you had a good trip home, Mummy, and that a car was waiting for you Eidsvold,

I got my rug yesterday, it is a very nice one. Martha, another girl (Betty Winterbottom) have been lying on it, reading, all the afternoon.

We had some fun last night. We all went up into the gym and danced and some of the girls recited and one, Betty Fadden, sang. She has such a sweet voice, it takes one straight into dreamland listening to her.

We went to Church this morning and the service was very good. We go again to night.

It has been much cooler here the last few days. I suppose it is hot at home.

Have they finished the mustering, yet? I hope Margot has given "Phantom" a few days work.

I am reading a book now, which one of the girls lent me. It is called "We of the Never Never".

Well, this is not a very long letter but I will have to rush now and get dressed for Church.

Please give my love to all,

from Joan xx

-----------------------------------------

March 3 rd., 1935

Dearest Mother,

Your letter arrived yesterday and I was very pleased to get it. You certainly had a very roundabout trip home.

I am glad Margot is riding "Phantom". Will you please tell her not to let any man, of any description, ride her, not even in the muster.

Last Thursday night Miss Jarrett was very nice and let us go to an Orchestral Concert in the Town Hall. Three mistresses took us and we had to get a special tram. We are going to another concert next Wednesday I think.

Last night, being Saturday night, we had a concert in the school. The first item was a dumb orchestra and Martha was the conductor. She was dressed up as a man and played the part very well indeed.

The next thing was called "Scenes de Somerville" and was a little scene, for each day of the week, taken from the doings of the school. I was in "Sunday morning" and had to pretend to be praying a psalm as we do on Sunday. There were quite a lot of things and they were all good. Jessie Simpson is very good on the stage as also are a lot of the other girls.

I went to Dr Rosentingle last Friday and he pulled out one tooth. He put cokane in it and it didn't hurt a bit. I go in to him again next Friday to lose the other one.

I cannot swim yet. I still have a slight cold so I didn't go in on Saturday, but I think if I go in every Saturday and try, I might be able to get across the baths in time!

Please give my love to all.

Your loving daughter,

Joan

-----------------------------------------

So what do you all think?

Jo

Political Musings of a Very Tired Me!

2010-08-12T17:35:00.000-07:00

Can I say, "What a week!!". It just has been frantic: busy, busy, busy. I feel like I have run a marathon.

That being said, I am glad my "At What Price" post has proven to be so helpful. I have really enjoyed hearing all your perspectives and stories. It has definitely been a massive, powerful reminder as to why I blog. So thank you.

Here in Australia, we are approaching election time. Alas, whilst the various parties debate the 'boat people' issue, the real issues have been minimised to all oblivion. The mainstream media has not helped in this regard: preferring to offer dumbed down news stories, and blame the poor boat people for all Australia's woes.

I am yet to hear an announcement about changing the child safety system: or at least increasing it's funding. Nationwide, the system is failing those it cares for in very real, and appalling ways. Yet, our government is more worried about the blame game, and what they WON'T do. Definitive, positive action seems to be beyond them.

Yes, I am very proud that we have Australia's first prime minister, and yes, I do hope she is elected again. But I think the way she booted Kevin Rudd wasn't right: and I am really annoyed at the 'faceless men' whom made that decision. The Australian people should have had the right to say when his time was up: they put him in, and they should be the ones to take him out.

Last but not least, congratulations go to California, whom has just re-legalised gay marriage. Again, Australia is hopelessly behind on this issue. Again, the politicians had an opportunity to change that this election. Yet they did not.

This election, go the Greens!!

Jo

All my hope and all my eggs.

2010-08-09T20:19:00.000-07:00

I would like to announce that I have eggs. They are tiny, but they are there: lots of lovely follicles.

I would also like to announce that I have a great uterine lining, and a small uterus. :-)

According to ultrasound technician a simple dose of Clomid might be all that is required to get my baby maker kick started. Her thoughts are that due to hormones, my eggs are not releasing the way they should.What made it all the more lovely was that she (the technician) was a survivor of infertility herself. She totally understood what we were going through and took the time to explain everything in detail: which of course, satisfied my need to know everything.

That being said, it really depends on what my gyno thinks and on the results of our other tests, including Justin's. Fingers crossed the technician is right and that nothing is wrong on Justin's side.

Actually, I am just astonished I have eggs (and so many of them) to start with.

It makes me smile, and gives me hope. Grow little eggs, grow :-)

Jo

The Saturday Evening Blog Post

2010-08-07T21:24:00.000-07:00

Come on over and share your favourite blog post from July 2010!!

Train a Child The Way They Should Go

2010-08-05T23:35:00.000-07:00

They forgot that kids should be kids, and not silent lambs.

In fundamentalist circles, there is an often quoted saying that says : "Children are not goats (kids), they are God's little lambs/children".

Well I am here to say that God's little lambs/children are being silenced. Silenced by abusive practices initiated by Pearls, Ezzo's and their ilk. Sadly, these practices have spread like wildfire through church after church, and are still going strong.

Both the Pearls and Ezzo's promote the concept that the child from birth is naturally bad, and selfish. That from birth, they will want the world to revolve around them.

In a recent Salon article they explain that in the case of the Pearls:

As the Pearls, their advocates, and supporters of similar Christian parenting approaches appear to see it, child "training" serves, in part, as a bulwark against "modern," liberal, secular, permissive, "child-centered" parenting -- the touchy-feely stuff of timeouts that, they suggest, spoils children into believing in a boundary-free world that revolves around them. "Pearl and others in their camp associate permissive parenting and the assumed moral laxity that it produces with non-biblical, humanist or naive understandings of human nature. It's 'us,' the true believers, against 'them,' the secularists and anyone else who has fallen under their influence," says Mark Justad, senior lecturer in religion and society and executive director of the Center for the Study of Religion and Culture at Vanderbilt University. "It's all part of the larger picture of returning our whole culture to godliness." Or at least preserving godliness in one's own family, safe from the "crusade" launched by "spanking abolitionists," safe from the influence of the corrupt, and corrupting, secular world.
"If you want a child who will integrate into the New World Order and wait his turn in line for condoms, a government funded abortion, sexually transmitted disease treatment, psychological evaluation and a mark on the forehead," writes Pearl in "To Train Up a Child," "then follow the popular guidelines in education, entertainment and discipline, but if you want a son or daughter of God, you will have to do it God's way."

Admittedly, compared to Pearls, the Ezzo's appear more mainstream. But ultimately, and underneath all the spin, they too promote a similar message. Another Salon article writes:

In interview after interview with families who are using "Babywise," parents spoke of their sincere desire to produce "obedient," "respectful" children. Rarely did these parents mention a hope to produce emotionally healthy adults. Overwhelmingly, "Babywise" parents accepted without question the conventional wisdom that "kids today" are out of control. Faced with the onslaught of media images of rampaging middle-schoolers and wilding teens, these parents believe that by cracking down on what Ezzo defines as infant rebellion now, they will prevent problems later.
"I have no intention of raising an out-of-control child, " says Franklin Stout, a 32-year-old father of two who is implementing "Babywise" methods with his young children. "My wife and I like having a guide to help us know how to respond to our sons' different behaviors. We believe that firm discipline in the first year or two will save us all a lot of grief later."
Several parents spoke of their belief that, after reading the books, they are convinced that any other child-rearing philosophy might eventually produce some type of obnoxious felon. Some of them may have gotten this idea from a statement made by "Babywise" co-author Bucknam, who in 1997 told the Denver Post: "As they [babies not fed on a schedule] get older, every whine is an opportunity to feed. They become more demanding. They become brats."
"I believe that never teaching a young child to delay gratification sets the stage for immoral behavior as an adult," says Karen (who declined to give her last name in her response to an Internet survey), a mother of four who says that she has found Ezzo's teachings to be a "blessing" in her home.

Growing up, my parents were unaware of the Pearls. However, they were aware of the Ezzo's, particularly their program called "Growing Kids God's Way". During the later years, they even taught it in our church, basing a home group around the program.

I know that my mother had tremendous outside pressure to have well behaved, quiet children, during this time. She often said to me how misbehaved we were compared to others at church, and how that reflected on her as both a parent and christian.

As a child, there was also a huge pressure to be quiet and well behaved.

As the only girl, that pressure was 10 fold: mostly because girls were really not allowed to be boisterous, or disobedient. I still have memories of being disciplined at someone else's place, because I was in some way being naughty. The shame of being spanked at a virtual stranger's house lives with me still.

As the oldest, I was also the guinea pig...so I also had the highest expectations and standards, out of all us three.

Now we are currently seeing the first wave of fundamentalist children brought up under these programs, rules and expectations. And the end results? Are not perfect adults, and are often not stable adults, certainly. We are hearing more and more stories of abused children, with terrible mental scars that stretch into adulthood. We are seeing more and more children leaving fundamentalism, and often, Christianity, behind, because of what they experienced in the churches, and at the hands of the pastors, elders, and parents in these churches.

But yet these programs live on, despite of the wealth of information that proves they do not work, and in fact, can do major harm. Why? I think it is simply because parents are so desperate for godly, well behaved children, that they are willing to look past all the negative stories. That they focus on the promises and changed behaviour of their child currently, instead of the future impacts such an upbringing may have on their emotional state, on their mental health, and future relationships with partners, friends, and children.

So if you are thinking of using these materials, I beg you to think first. I beg you to remember my story, and the all the ones just like it. I beg you to consider your child's future, not the instant obedience you get in the moment.

Jo

At What Price?

2010-08-04T17:47:00.000-07:00

There were once two stories.

One went like this:

He then placed his hand on [her] stomach before moving it under her clothes so that his hand reached the bottom of [her] bra while [she] was pulling away from his unwelcome touch...

And the other went like this:

He then placed his hand on [her] stomach before moving it under her nightie so that his hand reached under [her] panties while [she] was pulling away from his unwelcome touch...

One is the story of a 27 year old woman, whilst the other is the story of a 14 year girl.

One is suing for $37 million, and yet the other might be lucky to get $30,000.

One has garnered national headlines, whilst the other has had little publicity.

One story has gone trial in a public court of law, and been found to be true, with the offender found guilty, and given a prison term.

One has only been judged by the media and public opinion.

One offender was the victim's father, the other was the victim's boss.

One story is mine, whilst the other is Kristy Fraser-Kirk's.

My story is of course, the second. I was the 14 year old girl, whom was abused by her father. My story has gone to court, been proven to be true, and the offender was sent to prison. My story had minimal publicity. My compensation looks to be around the $30,000 mark: and the maximum payout that I (and others with cases like mine), am able to get for my father's crimes is $75,000. You must reemember too, that I was not the first girl he molested, and that the crimes he commited against me were mild compared to what others experienced. And I knew some of his other victims: they were hurt in my home, sometimes with me even in the same room, asleep.

How is this right? Now, I am not saying that Kristy's situation isn't appalling, and yes, it shouldn't have happened. But I am saying that media spotlight should also be focused on the the justice system until gets it right with our children's cases, until the child victims of crime get the compensation they deserve. Once a child is abused, the impacts of that abuse reverberate through all of that child's life.

At what price is a child's innocence worth?
At what price justice?

Jo

It's not fair....

2010-08-01T01:28:00.000-07:00

It's not fair.

I have said those words time and time again. They have been my faithful companions through life. It isn't fair that my life is shambles, my health is appalling, and that so many things have happened outside of my control. I could individually list them all, but the list is fair too long for this entry.

I think it is ok to admit when life is unfair, that all these things should not be happening to you again. Sometimes in people's rush for the perfect life, the unfairness of the world is overlooked, or seen as unavoidable, and thus excusable somehow.

It isn't.

It isn't excusable that women my age around the world do not have access to birth control, and the risk of them dying in childbirth is far, far higher.

It isn't excusable that children are being left in abusive homes and environments.

It isn't excusable that children will die because of preventable causes while you read this.

It's not fair.

No it isn't. It never is, whether it is happening in my life, in yours, or someone elses. And we should acknowledge it all: not just the big stuff. Acknowledge, and then try to move on and fix it. And if it is unfixable, acknowledge that not everything is able to be fixed, and it is ok to hurt, and struggle with it.

Jo

Some Thoughts

2010-07-31T00:47:00.000-07:00

Somewhere over the rainbow, there are babies waiting for me.

Somewhere over the rainbow, my innocence hides.

Somewhere over the rainbow, my hope lives.

Somewhere over the rainbow that seems so far away,

My dreams drift like clouds,

So untouchable, so fragile.

Dreams of lullabies,

Of families whole and beautiful,

Of a life that could have turned out so differently.

But I am here, now,

Living with the cards fate handed me

Living with an untouchable, beautiful rainbow,

Which promises so much,

And gives so little,

And that makes somewhere seem so far away

But still, I am here,

Searching for somewhere.

I hope I find it.

_____________________________________

I found this piece whilst re-reading my old posts, and found it still so applicable, I decided to share it again.

Surprises All Round.

2010-07-30T06:07:00.000-07:00

When a friendship ends, particularly under negative circumstances, many times you assume that it is gone for good: and that ultimately, it is unrepairable.

I have one such friendship. We have not been in contact for close to 2 years, and it ended badly, and messily. They ended it, we did not, and there was a lot of hurt and confusion on both sides. On our end particularly there was a huge sense of loss, and I struggled a long time with that. It was only 6 months or so back that I finally got a grip on it all, and moved on in a sense.

But fast forward to the current day, and they suddenly extend the hand of friendship, reintroducing themselves into our lives. They certainly seem legitimate, and they seem to have moved on themselves.

We spent the day together today, and it was nice. It was like an instant, comfortable reconnection, so much so, that they are visiting here tomorrow.

I firmly believe that everyone deserves a second chance. But, I am terrified of getting hurt again. My nature is always to give too much, too quickly. I have always been far too generous with my time, energy and money.

This time, I am going to try to go slow. Take my time, step warily.

Be a cautious me.

Jo

A Moment, A Cycle, A Marriage

2010-07-28T16:54:00.000-07:00

You know those moments in life? You know the ones, where all the crappy things seem to magically disappear, if only for moment? The cracked marriage, the health problems, the family issues fade into the background, leaving you with a precious, almost perfect moment.

And sometimes, they even happen to me, giving me something, anything to cling to when the storm stirs up again, and begins the destruction process yet again.

__________________________________________

I refer to my marriage as cracked: and yes, I do see it as 'cracked'. Like a vase dropped time and time again, and repaired over and over, so our marriage continues the cycle. It has been cracked by life, by our own mistakes, only to be repaired by sheer guts and determination.

That being said, where is the breaking point in a marriage? Where is the line where you say that you have had enough: really had enough? That the situation is not okay anymore? That the cracks are too extreme and unable to be fixed?

All questions I have been pondering lately. After working out a particular situation and finding that it is far, far worse then anticipated, I feel emotionally drained. The situation itself is nothing new, it is just that it is something I feel I have screaming (sometimes literally) about for years, and now it is coming to head as these matters all do eventually.

The problem is that I don't have the energy or the inclination to deal with it. I need Justin to step up to the plate and start being responsible. At 7 years older than me, it should be something that he is capable of doing. Instead, he waits for the non-existent magical solution to our problems, and in the meantime, makes me feel guilty for my current incapacity.

And then we have a near perfect moment: sitting watching a movie, being happy together. It wipes clean all the crap, and makes it seem totally irrelevant.

But after the moment is gone, the cycle starts again, with a new problem, or an old one reheated.

The joys of marriage huh?

Jo

Different Stripes, Same Colours: Part 2

2010-07-24T04:01:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, well my breastfeeding post certainly has garnered some interest, hasn't it?!?

Sazz, I for one, am glad that you came over to express your side of the story.

But I will reiterate a couple of things, that seemed to have been lost here. One, I come from a long line of breast feeders. My mum, grandma, and nearly all my aunts and cousins breast fed. Like I said, I strongly believe that breast is best, and should be attempted with each and every baby. I agree that breastfeeding isn't very well supported in the general community here. As a childcare worker, I have seen the difference between breastfed bubs and bottle fed. As for myself I plan to extend breastfeed/child led weaning, if I am able (and if we get a baby!), and I see no reason why I couldn't achieve either. I have already spent extensive time in preparing (read fighting) my anti-extended breastfeeding in-laws over it. So you are really talking to the converted here! :-) (I also plan on cosleeping, babywearing and I would love to have a homebirth, although, due to my medical problems, and a bowel resection (not keyhole), I don't think I will get that!)

I think we have safely established that breast is best, and should be supported and happening more often. But life doesn't often work out that way: the ideal and the reality don't often happen the way they should. Does that mean I judge the women whom tried and failed to breastfeed? No. Does it mean I feel sorry for them, or that they are some what 'less than'? Depending on their reason for not breastfeeding, I do not. They made that choice for their child, whether it was properly informed or not: it was their personal, parenting decision. Just it was their decision to own (or not) a pram, and co-sleep (or not), etc. But it is their choice. For me, it isn't a matter of sitting on the fence, it is just that I respect a parent's right to choose (just as I would expect my parenting choices to be respected), particularly in light of the current climate. That being said, even I will admit to disagreeing with mothers that don't even try breastfeeding, or don't breastfeed because it somehow interferes with their sexuality. But ultimately, it is their choice, and I respect it.

As for taking the page out of the book: it isn't something I support, mostly because I had personal experiences with having my books interfered with as a child: and it wasn't a positive thing for me. In fact, it made a bigger deal out of something that I hadn't noticed until that point.

In your case, as a child, I don't think I would have even noticed the bottle. Children don't read into things the way we do: their biggest influence is you and your actions, not a picture in a book. Whilst my mother's focus was not on breastfeeding, I still managed to grow up with a very positive perspective on it: because I was surrounded by women whom either had, or were, breastfeeding. Heck, I even remember breastfeeding my doll: and bottle feeding her too, but I can never remember thinking bottle was better, or even worrying about where the stuff in the bottle came from! . From what I can see, your children get to experience those things too. Leaving a page with a different perspective in a book isn't going to change those positive, natural experiences.

However, what are they learning if you teach them to deal with things you disagree with by tearing out pages in a book?

Your post reminded me of how my parents talked: (about different topics, but with the same passion and zeal, definitely): which was why I decided to post about it. I wouldn't even say I was upset...concerned about the way it was presented, absolutely.

And also, I would like to point out that I did not call anyone a breast feeding nazi. And to those that did get worked up about it, I would like to gently say to pop over to the other Jo's blog, and offer her some positive support. Her experiences with breastfeeders up to this point, for all you know, may have been negative. As it is, she is going through a really tough time right now, and I don't think picking on her choice of words is a particularly nice thing to do.

Jo

Perfect Demons, Perfect Life

2010-07-19T18:44:00.000-07:00

As someone who has fought demons for most of her life, I can understand how, and why life can get too hard, and how the urge to end it all can be overpowering.

For me personally, attempting suicide was one of the best things I ever did. I know, I know, it seems completely irrational, but for me, trying to end my life showed me how much I really loved life and wanted it. This lesson was reiterated in the years that have followed my diagnosis: everything gains so much more meaning when you are ill.

But regardless, it is not something I would recommend for anyone else: it is the hard way to learn, and it causes terrible distress to those whom love you.

And they do love you. Maybe not the people you want the most to care: but they care just as passionately, just as deeply, and are just as important as those people. They want you to stay, and will be desperately sad if you go. They will miss you.

There is no shame in wanting the pain to end, either, I think. When you have had so much trauma, so much crap and negative stuff crammed into a life, it has to come out somewhere. Society doesn't like sadness or pain, and any direct expression of those things are frowned upon. Want to kill yourself? Society says chin up! Cheer up! Move on! If you actually go through with it? Hellfire and brimstone! Your name will be whispered as "poor such and such", or not mentioned at all. That to me is an absolute tragedy and a cruel and horrible thing to do to those already tortured by life, tortured enough to end their lives.

The point is that in our society, in nearly every society, it is considered a shameful thing to admit that you hurt: that life is all too much pain. It is considered a weak thing to seek help. In society's race to beat the Jones, to be better and ever more perfect, it crushes those that cannot keep up due to no fault of their own.

The facts are that it is not a shameful thing to admit to pain and hurt, or a weak thing to seek help. It is a far, far stronger thing to face your pain, and hurt. It is a far, far stronger thing to seek help. If you are in pain, acknowledge it. If you are hurt, acknowledge it. And more importantly, don't stop looking for help until you get it. Ignore those that tell you to get over it. Scream and bang at the door until they let you in.

There are still days where I am ready to give up and give in to the voices in my head. But they are few and far between. My depressive, "low" days still exist: and will probably always exist. I still have days, if not weeks, where I cannot handle anything. And that is ok. It is ok, because I acknowledge them, because I recognise that to heal, I have to get the hurt out first, and accept that I am innately imperfect, and that I will never achieve society's expectations of me.

One day at time, I will get there: I will become whole again, regardless of how many set backs may come my way, and have already come my way. But I will be my version of whole, not what society expects.

To the others that read my blog and have demons of your own, remember that you are not alone. Remember that help does exist, and that you can, and will, find it.

Congratulations! You're not perfect! It's ridiculous to want to be perfect anyway. But then, everybody's ridiculous sometimes, except perfect people. You know what perfect is? Perfect is not eating or drinking or talking or moving a muscle or making even the teensiest mistake. Perfect is never doing anything wrong - which means never doing anything at all. Perfect is boring! So you're not perfect! Wonderful! Have fun! Eat things that give you bad breath! Trip over your own shoelaces! Laugh! Let somebody else laugh at you! Perfect people never do any of those things. All they do is sit around and sip weak tea and think about how perfect they are. But they're really not one-hundred-percent perfect anyway. You should see them when they get the hiccups! Phooey! Who needs 'em? You can drink pickle juice and imitate gorillas and do silly dances and sing stupid songs and wear funny hats and be as imperfect as you please and still be a good person. Good people are hard to find nowadays. And they're a lot more fun than perfect people any day of the week.

~Stephen Manes, Be a Perfect Person in Just Three Days!~

Change!

2010-07-17T16:18:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the new look!! A change is as good as a holiday they say and I am in desperate need of a holiday. But for now, I will deal with a new blog look instead.

Yes, the above picture is of my feet: and yes, I took it!

Because you know, I am like that. I love shoes: maybe a little too much; rofl.

Jo

Different Stripes, Same Colours

2010-07-16T00:44:00.000-07:00

Of late, I have been an avid reader of the Offbeat Mama / Offbeat Bride websites: both of which are AMAZING resources. They both promote and share the slightly offbeat wedding and parenting choices people from all over the world have made, and are making.

Recently, an article popped up on lotus birth and the choice this particular mother had made to create a kind of painting/print with the left over placenta. I was intrigued, mildly putting it, so I clicked over to her blog.

She is a proud homebirther, breastfeeder, unschooler, babywearer and feminist: all of which are admirable. I enjoyed reading through a number of her blog posts: they were a fascinating look at all the above things and how she incorporates them into her, and her child's, world. Those things by themselves can be seen to be quite positive things: I myself fully support a mother's choice (and right) to do all of those things (With the very mild exception of unschooling, but that is more because of my experiences with homeschooling).

But then I came across this blog entry: and was, well, startled!

She writes:

Not all books are as much fun as The Gruffalo, quite a few require editing, such as the following book. The entire book is about love, how it makes the main character feel, that it's nice to let other people know you love them etc. Quite nice messages, and then you get to the end page and the illustration teaching readers how to express their love for family members:
A fucking bottle! Not in this house, bub! In this house love doesn't involve evil multinational corporations profiting from the deaths of millions of children around the world. This is just one of the many ways breastfeeding is ostracised in Australian society and artificial feeding is normalised. A woman's earliest lessons about breastfeeding are learned through childhood play: acting out baby feeding, seeing it around her, reading about it in her picture books. Given the dangers of artificial feeding and the importance of breastfeeding I believe authors of children's books have a moral obligation to show breastfeeding imagery if ever they wish to show babies feeding. So this page was torn out of "the bunny book". Furthermore, WTF is going on in that bunny family?! The washing can wait, Bunny mum, your baby needs feeding and connection to you! That's why you have breasts!

Errr....wow, just wow. I can't imagine how hurtful that would be to read as bottle feeding mother: particularly if you couldn't breastfeed for a legitimate medical reason. Whilst I agree that breastfeeding needs to be more promoted and supported (I come from a very long line of breastfeeders, and was a breastfed bub), I don't think that bottle feeding should be demonized either. It is my personal belief that breast is best, and should be attempted and be a normal, accepted part of society, but equally, those that bottle feed should not be hated upon for not being able to breastfeed either.

To me, you cannot complain about being ostracized for breastfeeding, but then turn around and do the exact same thing to other mothers whom made different choices to you.

------------------------

It reminded me that there are extremists on either end of society. I can clearly remember my mother "editing" sections of my books because they contained things she didn't agree with (eg. the Laura Ingalls's books mentioning Jack Frost). To this day, I still hate having my books messed with (eg pages taken out, or scribbled over). It had an impact on me: certainly not the impact my mother intended, but an impact nevertheless.

Jo

----------------------

I have posted a followup to this post: Different Stripes, Sames Colours Part 2

In a Very Unusual Way....

2010-07-14T03:42:00.000-07:00

One of the things I miss about being a christian is having all the answers sewn up neatly. If you needed help, or an answer, you just opened your bible or prayed about it. You didn't need to rely on yourself: in fact, you were told that the only thing you should rely on was God and God alone.

The thing was that it was easy. Any trouble you had went straight to God, and he would hopefully fix it: and if he didn't, it was a lesson you needed to learn.

My marriage has never been easy, and I think it has been made all the more complicated because I grew up with a certain idea of marriage and how to deal with problems (Go to God! Search the Scriptures! Be submissive! Endure everything!). Those things don't fit my life anymore: I don't want them to be a part of my marriage, for many reasons.

Mostly, it is because I don't want to be a fraud: appalled at a god/religion's actions on one hand, but agreeing to it all because it is easier, and means that I have a neat path to follow in both my marriage and my life.

I want my marriage to survive on its own terms, without the pressure of religion, faith, or the need to stay. I want and need to establish my own abilities as a person and human being to decide my own fate.

My marriage is unusual, suiting no one but ourselves, and sometimes, not even that.

In a very unusual way one time I needed you.
In a very unusual way you were my friend.
Maybe it lasted a day, maybe it lasted an hour.
But, somehow it will never end.

In a very unusual way I think I'm in love with you.
In a very unusual way I want to cry.
Something inside me goes weak,
Something inside me surrenders.
And you're the reason why,
You're the reason why

You don't know what you do to me,
You don't have a clue.
You can't tell what its like to be me looking at you.
It scares me so, that I can hardly speak.

In a very unusual way, I owe what I am to you.
Though at times it appears I won't stay, I never go.
Special to me in my life,
Since the first day that I met you.
How could I ever forget you,
Once you had touched my soul?
In a very unusual way,
You've made me whole.

~Unusual Way, Maury Yeston~

And they lived happily ever after...

2010-07-12T00:07:00.000-07:00

~Gilda Radner~

We all want perfect endings right? The above quote has always rung true to me, because I have always hoped for the perfect endings. Hoped that no matter how dire the situation appeared that I would still get the perfect, fairytale ending.

No one likes to think that fairytale endings don't exist. Take the tragic accident that I blogged about last time: no one likes to think of a situation ending that way. But it did.

To my particular distress, I discovered that DOCS (Department of Child Services) had prior involvement in this little boy's life. The same department that had done such an appalling job on my case nearly 8+ years ago, had an opportunity to help this little boy and his parents, but obviously did not, or at least in any manner that could be classed as successful. This to me, screams that they have not learnt from the mistakes of my case, but this time, they weren't as lucky, and a child actually died.

I had wanted to believe in the power of perfect endings: to believe that DOCS had kept their word and learnt from the mistakes made in my case, and in other cases since then. Children should not be dying because a system is failing them - particularly a system that so publicly promises to protect them. I shouldn't have to hear the same excuses for the same mistakes over and over again from this department.

This all makes me extremely angry: and frustrated. I feel like all the work that I have done throughout my life has been useless. I have always believed that the reason that I survived my father's abuse to this point is because I am meant to be here to publicize the appalling state of our DOCS, as well as educate the general public about abuse. I was meant to be the voice for the many kids that don't survive the system's mistakes... the children who die alone, often (directly or indirectly) by the actions of those that are supposed to care for them: their parents or guardians.

I have often been asked why I cannot just 'move on' and stop talking about the dark side of the world we inhabit. The answer is simple: I cannot move on whilst children are dying preventable deaths. I cannot leave them behind, and nor should I have to. It may not be a comfortable topic to discuss, but silence is what allows abuse to flourish and children to die.

No one to turn to, oh, how dare you

How does a child get himself out of harm's way?

A price no one should pay

Can't you see the tears they're crying

Don't you care your kids are dying?

From the senseless torment you put them through

~In Harm's Way - Metal Church~

I Saw Death Tonight.

2010-07-06T17:12:00.000-07:00

Last night, we went to a friend's place for dinner. Sitting out on the veranda afterwards, we heard a huge bang: almost like thunder.

We decided to walk down and check it out. What we found will stay with me forever: a huge single car crash on a nearby street. They taking the driver away and it was clear that things weren't good. People whom had gotten there a little earlier told us that it was a woman involved and there was a gun found in her car. Her car (holden crewmen) had been going so fast that it had flipped on its roof and taken out a tree. Some also reported hearing gunshots in the minutes before the crash.

We assumed that it was a drag race or drug deal gone bad.

How wrong could we be?

I woke up this morning to find that what happened was far more horrible then just a drag race or a drug deal gone bad.

It is being widely reported that the woman that died in the crash had just shot and killed a baby boy (8 months old) and attempted to kill a 36 year old man 10 minutes before.

This woman was my age, and lived barely 15 minutes away from me. For all I know I could have seen her before: crossed her path on the street, brushed against her in the shopping centre. But for some reason, any reason, our worlds collided on that night: the night of her death. I watched this woman die, a woman whom, according to many reports, had just shot and killed a baby, and attempted to kill someone else.

Rest In Peace baby boy: you didn't deserve to die. Your life was just beginning.

Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.

~Emily Dickinson~

You will be remembered and loved by thousands that never met you, and by a precious few that did.

Confessions of Weight...

2010-07-01T23:34:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make.

Because my IBS/Crohns (whatever it is: who knows anymore) has settled down in the last few weeks, I have been eating again. A lot. A lot of bad things, if truth be told.

This has meant that since dropping 7 kg to 61 kg during my last flare (in under a month) I suddenly have gained it all back (in under a month), with a little more on top....I have hit the 70 kg + zone: ekkk. I have never, ever gained that much weight that quickly.

To gain some perspective on this, I am 5 ft tall. That is a lot of weight and not a lot of places to put it.

For years, I could eat pretty much what I wanted and not gain a drastic amount of weight (or any at all). Looking back this was all because of crohns/IBS, but it was great at the time...My sweet tooth got fed well.

It doesn't help that the stuff that is stereotypically "bad" for you such as white pasta, bread etc are some of the few foods that I have always found easy on my stomach. Pasta is my comfort food in many ways: I know I can always eat it and not feel sick afterward. Because I have never been one for big portions, it has meant its impact on my waistline has been slight: even with all the current extra weight I am still size 10 to 12 (but definitely in more of the '12' camp).

But lately, I am always hungry and my normal meal sizes have gone out of the window. It is very sad.

However, I am glad that I have some extra weight going on. Least when the Crohns/IBS starts flaring again, I have some weight to lose. And not only that, but it is making me realize how much I love my body and curves (and boy do I have them! Entire DD's ?). I am still working on loving my tummy...that particular piece of property was decimated after the surgery of '08. Nuclear wasteland, anyone?

Jo

Fragile...

2010-07-01T02:20:00.000-07:00

So many times, life isn't predictable. It doesn't even make sense. But it exists, forcing you ever onwards.

I have been pondering a lot lately: the world, the people, my relationships with them. People come into our lives, sometimes they leave and come back, sometimes they leave forever.

In the past few months, I have been reminded of how fragile relationships can be. If I am to be honest, I have been reminded for far longer then that: people have been entering and leaving my life since I can remember. But each time it is still a surprise, still unexpected, and ultimately, still painful. I don't think you don't ever get used to having a relationship change, particularly when it is for worse. That goes doubly when it was a relationship that brought so much positivity for a time. Then, you get angry, and upset, because that relationship was worth something to you, and you don't want to lose it, even though through thought or deed you ultimately will: because the negativity that the changed relationship brings into both of your lives isn't worth it anymore.

We as humanity often take our relationships with others for granted. We assume that they (friends, partners etc) will always be there, and the fact is, they may not be. We assume that they will wait for you to get out of the darkness, or whatever the scenario may be.

And the sad fact it is that at times, we get left behind, or we leave others behind. No one is perfect. Not many can wait, or want to wait. Life goes on, forcing us onwards, forcing us to jettison those whom pull us down.

What an appalling thing to say, I know! But we are all guilty of ending a single relationship (or many) in a negative manner. This, however, is something we love to live in ignorance of. We like to ignore the nasty bits of life, relationships and humanity. We like things in boxes, filed away quietly in the "Painful Relationship Ending" box. When a relationship ends blame is laid (often with the other person) and the rest of it gets put away to be henceforth referred to in a pain, sadness and loss (and yes, even bitterness) context.

I have relationships in that box: we all do. They rattle around in our memories, reminding us of our mistakes, and of mistakes others have committed against us. But yet, we still forget painful lessons learnt. We don't value our relationships and enjoy them the way we should.

Life forces us onwards. And the cycle begins again.

Jo

A gentle recommendation...

2010-06-29T15:15:00.000-07:00

For all fertility news, information, and articles.

I got an email the other day approaching me about the possibility of linking to Fertility Authority website on my blog. I was very skeptical, but once I checked it out, I was really (and genuinely) impressed. I am not being paid for this by the way: this is all me!

The minute I clicked over I found an article on IVF in Australia, and more particularly the first IVF baby born here. It was fascinating.

Not only that, but they have a fantastic section titled "Conversations with an Infertility Counselor". As the title suggests, it discusses the very real emotional impact with an infertility counselor. As someone who doesn't live in an area with an IF counselor, I found it really useful and insightful.

A fabulous resource tool, and one that I would recommend to any couple at any stage of the IF process. So what are you waiting for?

Go and check it out!

My Blog by Numbers.

2010-06-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

365 posts
Since October 2006.
A year's worth of posts, spread over 4.

20,000 + hits
Since 2007
Thank you reading my musings!

27, 000 + page views
Since 2007
And thank you for continuing to read page after page.

18 google followers
Thank you for supporting me so publicly!

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you...

Tests and Thoughts.

2010-06-26T02:37:00.000-07:00

Ugh! I am so miserable right now...it is flu land around here right now, which is entirely thrilling, and just what I wanted. :-S. Slightly disappointing because I did want to participate a bit more in ICLW this time around.

Having the first round of blood tests on Monday: am so not looking forward to it in many ways! Yes, I am excited about finding some more definitive answers, but I do have some terrible veins. For me personally, it is quite an ordeal to have any blood taken: my veins just don't co-operate and run away. Fingers crossed they actually behave for once!

Justin and I have been discussing the "big" decision that comes with all this testing: how far are we willing to take it right now? We both agree that IVF and IUI (if needed) are not for this year, or even the next, thanks in a large part to finances and my health. We would like to aim for a conclusive diagnosis by the end of this year, and depending on the problem, would consider medication/mildly invasive procedures (ie clearing of blocked tubes, endometriosis).

Justin is 7 years older than me: meaning he is approaching his 30th birthday very quickly (March next year). Neither one of us particularly relishes the idea of having babies in our 30's: we were born to parents whom had us in that stage of life, and whilst it worked well for them, it isn't something we want. As it is, Justin will be in his early 30's if we manage to sort this all out in the next 6 to 12 months, and in his mid to late 30's (or older) if we have to wait for IVF/IUI treatments. His age is also one of the reasons why we are trying whilst I am so young: if we were to wait till I was in my late 20's or early 30's, he would be nearing 40 and beyond: not something I am comfortable with, particularly in light of the rise of birth defects and poorer quality swimmers which comes part of age.

I have discussed previously here my varied health problems, all of which may degenerate or flare in coming years. For me, these potential problems, as well as the fact that falling pregnant doesn't get any easier as you age, just reiterates the importance of solving these problems quickly.

I recognize that not everyone will agree with our decision to solve and deal with these problems in light of my age. These choices are not for everyone, and neither should it be. For us right now, it is the decision that we have come to feel is right for us, as both a couple and as individuals.

Jo

Finally Getting Somewhere.

2010-06-21T23:26:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

Yes, we are finally getting somewhere at least on the IF front. To the land of tests, tests and more tests. But least it somewhere out of the "I don't know" territory.

The gynecologist was wonderful: I loved her. She made me feel instantly comfortable (and she was very positive!), and has set out a firm plan and direction for next few months...which is excellent. The plan is to have multiple tests (multiple blood tests to check hormones, Pelvic U/S, Semen Analysis) done over the next one to two months, with a follow up appointment after they are done. If it is an egg production problem, the plan is to simply prescribe something to hopefully get it kick started. If it something more complicated (ie, Justin, or my tubes etc) steps will be taken from there...and it really depends on the actual problem. IVF and IUI's are not covered by the public health system which is a problem, and does limit our treatment options for now. We of course, could look at the private system for this a few years down the track: treatment whilst being relatively inexpensive (particularly when compared to the USA costs) is a little out of our reach currently.

Will keep you all updated.

Jo!

Welcome and a Few Facts...

2010-06-20T02:01:00.000-07:00

A big welcome goes out to the ICLW'ers!!
It has been a while since I have participated, so I thought I would let you all know bit about myself.

I am 22, married to my partner of 4 1/2 years. No relationship is easy, and we have had some rough bumps along the way, but somehow, some way we have stuck together. We have battled financial/housing difficulties, chronic illness (Crohns), infertility/miscarriage and even family, at various points. But yet we are here!

My recent diagnoses (Arthritis, Sacroiliitis and IBS) have meant that we are being forced to take a good hard look at our baby plans. ICLW actually coincides with my gynecologist appointment (or in other words, the appointment to work out if it is viable to get a living baby at some stage in light of my health issues and our history of infertility)....So lots of big decisions coming up, and I would love some input and stories from those of you whom have had similar challenges!

Wish us luck!

Jo

What If?

2010-06-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

What If?

Please, please, please check this quick video out...

It sums up so many of the doubts infertility (IF) bring to a couple, a family, a woman.

"There's a possibility, All that I had was all I'm gonna get" ~Possibility - Lykke Li~

2010-06-12T03:43:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

I don't think I have gotten around to blogging about the results of my medical trip to Brisbane yet. So here goes.

Good news first: Crohns appears to be in borderline remission. Whilst that is fantastic, they have upped my meds to keep it that way. My recent gut problems seem to be a case of IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome), a much milder bowel problem. Of course, this now means I have 2 bowel problems at once which is frustrating to say the least.

I also had a full body scan done just before I went down to Brisbane to try and locate the source of the back/knee problems. This found sacroiliitis in my back, and mild arthritis in my knees. So, at the age of 22, I have arthritis.

Arthritis (in a number of forms) is a very familiar thing in my family. My mother, maternal grandmother and maternal great grandmother all had it. So I had expected to come at some stage, but not for at least another 10 to 15 years (which is when my mother got it). I should really stop assuming!!

Growing up, I saw the very real impact the disease had on my mother, and thus on the rest of the family. I was very young when she was diagnosed, but can still clearly remember helping look after my little brothers, and helping my mother actually walk and get around. None of this added responsibility was in any way my Mum's fault. She was diagnosed only a few years after she finished having children. She didn't plan to get so sick when we were so young.

That being said, I wonder what would she have chosen if she knew that she would get so sick when her children were so young (feel free to jump in here, Mum)? Would she have chosen to still have children? And if so, would she have chosen to have 3 in 3 years?

Justin and I desperately want children: no doubt about it. One of the many reasons I wanted to have children in my early 20's was to ensure that they would be older then I was, should I get arthritis. I wanted to be prepared for the possibility. But this possibility? I was not prepared for this possibility. I didn't even want to think about this possibility.

The sacroiliitis would most likely deteriorate with any pregnancy I would have: the fact we know about it now means that hopefully, it will be able to managed. The same goes for the arthritis.

That being said, do I want to be doped up on various painkillers and medications for my child/ren's pregnancy/life? Do I want my children to experience life with a sick/incapacitated mother? That is of course, if I ever manage to get pregnant in the first place. And if my crohns stays in remission. And if the arthritis/sacroiliitis progress the way I have been told.

There are a lot of "if's". A lot of questions. A lot of doubts, about something that I always thought I had neatly sewn up in a little box of certainty and careful planning. I wanted a child/ren with every fiber of my being. But now?

Now, it has dimmed just a little. I am being thankful for the fact we hadn't begun medical interventions yet. However, the urge, the desire lingers still, leading me to ask, "where to from here".

Here. The place I never wanted to be.

I am sure I will work it out. But it doesn't make the moment any easier.

I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had.

~ The Wonder Years ~

Homeschooling....My Thoughts, My Experiences, My Conclusion

2010-06-07T07:16:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

There has been a fascinating conversation/debate going on over at NLQ about homeschooling and what, if any, regulations it needs in order to protect the children involved, and ensure that they being taught the things they need to stay on track educationally.

Now, to reiterate part of my story, I was homeschooled till grade 7 and then attended a tiny public school/high school. So I can safely say that I have experienced both sides of the coin so to speak.

Homeschooling for me was a mixed experience. Whilst it definitely left me behind socially, I would say my lack of social skills was also thanks to our fundamentalist beliefs and the fact I was mostly exposed to other home schooled children alone during that time. Educationally, however, I would class it as a good experience: I was blessed with a mother whom taught us extremely well and with great care, giving me a fantastic educational base for the rest of my schooling life and beyond.

Because I was so socially inept, it meant I spent a great deal of my "in school" years playing catchup. This of course meant that I had an appalling time of it in high school particularly. I just didn't know how to relate to my classmates, and in a small school this was devastating. Educationally, I floated along on my own merry way.

But what about the real issue here? The elephant in the room so to speak: abuse in the homeschooling home. On NLQ, there has been a long debate (that continues) about the amount of regulation needed to protect children whom are being home schooled. Many have asked where is the evidence of abused, homeschooled children. Well, hello? Princess Jo sitting right here! I have heard some horrific stories of abused homeschooled children, many times worse and more grimmer than my own.

In my case, I believe I was "groomed" from a very young age: I didn't even recognize what the abuse was until he took it too far. It was like a switch went off, and I suddenly realized what he was doing all along. I believe this awakening was sparked in no small way by my school attendance. By experiencing a different world, a different perspective, it allowed me the freedom to find my voice, and also approach the authorities about it. I reported when I was in school, at school. I really truly believe that if I had been homeschooled for the full 12 years, my story would be remarkably different. My abuser, my father, probably would have never been caught (at least for offenses he committed against me) , and I would still be living with a devastating secret.

Let me stress, I don't believe in any way that homeschooling caused my abuse. My abuse was caused by my father. But my abuse and thus, silence was allowed to stretch out for a lot longer than it otherwise would have. Homeschooling without a doubt, indirectly helped cover up my abuse. I think the same same can be said for the other cases that I have heard of over the years.

So with all that said, where do I stand on the regulation issue? Personally, I don't want homeschooling banned: when it is done for the right reasons (ie not because of religious reasons and wanting to protect the child from worldly influences particularly) it can be a positive thing. That being said, I do think homeschooling needs tighter regulations for the safety of those that are at risk, or whom are already suffering silently.

In a perfect world I would like to see definitive, established tests and teaching standards throughout the school year: in addition, I would like to see once yearly (carried out by a 3rd party) exams to check progress.

In a perfect world, I would like to see specially trained 'social workers' working with homeschooled children and homeschooling parents to ensure that religious fanaticism/family dynamics etc aren't impacting on the child's ability to speak up if an abusive situation was to arise, and to ensure if such a situation was to arise that they are aware of where to go for help. These 'social workers' could then help home schooled children to transfer over to more conventional forms of education (ie college or university) or work when that child is ready. In a perfect world, these 'social workers' would be former home schooled children themselves.

And perhaps more controversially, I would like to see home schoolers get criminal checks, just like normal teachers and for that matter, anyone that works on school property, or as a childcare worker. Why? For several reasons, but mostly because when you homeschool, (just as in a normal school) you are likely to have contact with a a large population of children not your own. And do you really want to have someone with criminal charges (particularly domestic violence/sexual offences etc) homeschooling, or for that matter coming in contact with your children in a trusted context? I am not saying this idea is perfect: it isn't. The system can be beaten, crimes are not reported. But here in Australia it is such a simple form to fill out, why wouldn't you do it?

But that is my ideal world alone, tainted by my experiences. Idealism is fantastic, but reality is a far different thing.

In reality, I would love for a proper, in depth study done of homeschooling and homeschoolers so that any future regulations can be decided upon with a proper research backing. I personally think homeschooling is growing in popularity, so this study and resulting recommendations need to happen relatively quickly.

But knowing the state of the world, this is a idealistic dream too. A nice one, but a dream nevertheless. Home schooling is such a decisive topic that I think any conclusion over regulation is a long way off.

Jo

Be Friends with the Vagina

2010-06-04T08:38:00.000-07:00

SBS documentaries are dangerous things.

They get me thinking about vaginas! The horrors!

The Perfect Vagina, in fact.

It was looking at the rise of vaginal plastic surgery. More and more women are going under the knife to change the look of their girly bits into the "ideal". I was slightly stunned, to be honest. I had heard of it before, but it hadn't really struck me how widespread the dissatisfaction (and thus, surgery) really is.

As I watched, I was struck at the cruelty from partners/friends/family that the the girls had experienced to get them to the rather radical choice of surgery. I felt that for a lot of them the choice for surgery had been forced onto them by the judgments of others instead of coming from a place of health concerns etc.

The surgery itself was horrific, and just looked horribly painful. Ick. And what if something went wrong?

The truly ironic thing is that nearly every single woman thought that there was such thing as a "perfect, ideal" vagina, when the reality is so different, and there is no such thing.

On a side note, it also served to turn me off waxing for life. That looked nearly as painful as the surgery, to be honest.

Personally, I like my vag-jay-jay (my name for it) the way it is. I could not fathom changing it so drastically via such a permanent method.

Embrace your vag-jay-jay women of the world!!! It is supposed to be a thing of pleasure. And yes, you can touch it in a sexual way without a male being around! Oh my goodness!

Your Vagina is Your Friend. Really Truly.

Jo

IF and My Friends.

2010-06-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

I have attempted to write this entry time and time again this week. And failed.

I am a very public blogger: I don't hide its existence from friends, family etc. I embrace my blog as my space, and can be brutally honest on it. When I struggle in real life, I blog about it, often instead of talking about it with my real life friends.

One of my biggest personal struggles has been with my infertility, particularly of late. So many of my friends are having babies: to the point I swear it is some kind of crazy conspiracy. Literally, I can only think of a handful of friends that are NOT having babies. And many are on their second or third child.

I have always been open in real life about my infertility: but I also do tend to not express my legitimate feelings about someone's pregnancy. Society doesn't tend to react well to jealousy, or sadness. Particularly in relation to the birth of a child. I do however chose to express those emotions virtually on this blog: for me it is a quick, painless, pressure release to ensure that those undoubtedly negative emotions don't fester and turn me into a very bitter person.

But what happens when one of those friends goes to my blog, finds one of my pregnancy ranting posts, and thinks it is about them alone? Well, it tends to make an already complicated situation more so. I am far from a perfect friend, but the added stress of a pregnancy makes me a very bad one. Or at least, I feel that way.

And why is that?

Because I see the belly, and then the baby, and my overwhelming thought is: "this should be mine and this should be me". My first reaction is usually never happiness for the prospective parents (unless I know they have had problems), but instead, instant, bitter jealousy. Why should they have a baby so quickly (into a relationship, trying, bad circumstances etc) when I have spent the last 3.5 years trying, and ultimately failing?

I do get over it, move on, and help out as needed. But the abyss follows me, waiting for the next surprise, the next announcement, for me to fall conveniently (and hopefully, briefly) into it's dark embrace.

One day hopefully it will be different. I don't like being this way.

I leave you all with this quote.

Jealousy is simply and clearly the fear that you do not have value. Jealousy scans for evidence to prove the point - that others will be preferred and rewarded more than you. There is only one alternative - self-value. If you cannot love yourself, you will not believe that you are loved. You will always think it's a mistake or luck. Take your eyes off others and turn the scanner within. Find the seeds of your jealousy, clear the old voices and experiences. Put all the energy into building your personal and emotional security. Then you will be the one others envy, and you can remember the pain and reach out to them.

~Jennifer James~

Double Lives, Destruction & Devastation.

2010-05-21T06:10:00.000-07:00

Too often you hear stories of double lives, of secrecy and deceit. Our politicians are no exception to this human weakness.

Recently, a New South Wales member of parliament was "caught out" by the media visiting a place described as "a gay sauna/club". This particular member of parliament was supposedly happily married, hetrosexual man with 2 adult children.

A debate has raged in the mainstream media in the days since, particularly considering the moral ethics of the way in which the MP was "caught out" and whether or not the MP's actions should have even been given news time in the first place.

The fact remains (and is often overlooked) that there is family that has been utterly destroyed and devastated by this news. A family made out of real, living people, that did not have a public image, that did not have a say in the way this very personal information was revealed, has now been forced into a horrifying position. They now have to deal with the fallout very publicly.

As a daughter of a man whom also lived multiple lives, I have had but a taste of the impact that such revelations can bring. But that taste left such a bitter memory that it has taught me well that having such a double life (particularly when you exclude those closest to you), holds so much potential for disaster. It is a ticking time bomb, and you will get caught out one day. Honesty is nearly always the best policy. Otherwise, people can, and do, get hurt, seriously hurt. Injuries that do not heal quickly, and sometimes, not at all.

In saying that, a man has come out of the closet, in a way not of his own choosing. And I think it is a sad reflection upon society that he didn't feel comfortable enough to come forward and live his life openly and honestly, as gay, bi or straight. I find it terrible that when he did "come out" all the focus was on the "gay sauna/club", not on the impact the public reveal would have on his family. Who cares about his sexual orientation? Shouldn't the focus be on his family: the real victims here?

Jo

The "I am still here" Blogger!

2010-05-18T15:20:00.000-07:00

Just to let everyone know, I am still here!!

I have had a flu the past few weeks, and been busy with Maddy and L.... I have also been trying to write something more in depth for you guys, but I am finding it really difficult. Writers Block Alert!

But I am sure I will find the energy at some point to finish it up!

In the meantime, head over to Princess Jo Photography for some gratuitous baby and Jo shots.

Happy Mother's Day!

2010-05-08T14:35:00.001-07:00

My gorgeous beautiful mother!!

22 years huh?

Happy Mother's Day!!

Announcing....

2010-05-07T16:56:00.000-07:00

Princess Jo Photography

A place for the photos!

Conflicted? Who me?

2010-05-07T02:34:00.000-07:00

Life: the miraculous thing that spends itself in a constant confusion, and then makes vague attempts to resolve that that confusion.

Right now, I am at yet another point: feeling as confused as ever. My long awaited for hospital visit is finally over. And guess what? No answers. None. My colonscopy went well, and found no sign of inflammation.. Which is so confusing, to say nothing of frustrating, in light of the fact that I have been flaring for quite some time. It is quite possible that the inflammation has moved to another section of my bowel inaccessible via colonoscopy. I have also been put on a higher level of medication, which should help maintain me for a while.

I have also had the pleasure of a dear friend Maddy's (and her gorgeous son) company this week. Her visit has been wonderful, albeit conflicting. Having a little boy in the house is fantastic gift, and one that I savour, but leaves a little ache and and a little sting, which I feel horribly about.

So much happiness, mixed with a little confusion! Ah Life!

Jo

Comment...

2010-04-24T00:29:00.000-07:00

I received an interesting comment today regarding my recent Free Jinger blog post, and thought it deserved a public reply.

---------------------

Unfortunately you're not exactly being honest, Jo.

You attacked Ruth on Free Jinger. Viciously, explicitly, savagely. You insisted she was not real. You attacked someone who never harmed you (unless you thought that her getting attention that should be going to you was somehow an injustice...)

I never insisted that she was not real, nor did I attack her. I stated quite clearly that these were only my opinions, and pure speculation. In the interest of being open and honest I will include my original post from FJ.

I have noticed NLQ has stopped posting Ruth's story.

It is just speculation on my behalf, but maybe Vyckie is starting to question her story, too. You have to admit that it has gotten more and more extreme each time she posts.

To say nothing of the fact that she has started to post her series on her blog before NLQ (and I know for a fact that wasn't how it started: V asked her to do a series and Ruth agreed to allow them be published on NLQ).

I am the first to admit that I have had doubts about Ruth's story for quite sometime. I read a lot of the former fundie/QF blogs over a long period of time (and I write one) and have never questioned/doubted before.

-----------------------------

You were proven wrong. In the very topic you chose to bolster your attack on her, you were proven wrong by Vicki continuing the series.

Did you apologize? To Ruth? To the other FJ board regulars?

No. You did not. You chose to vanish and flounce and play the martyr here, in dishonesty.

I did not vanish, or flounce. The reason I was not active on the board at the time was due to illness. I did however, return and explain my position more in depth as per below.

I know I haven't been commenting, but I have been very unwell, so forgive my absence.

Firstly, I have never emailed Ruth. And I agree whomever did, took it too far.

"Princessjo, you used to be a big supporter of Ruth on her blog, so starting this thread seems low. Really low."

You are quite correct in that I did comment on her blog a few times: but I comment on lots of blogs. At the time, I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt: which I did do for about 12 months before speaking up, and raising my doubts.

"I'd be disappointed if I found out she was making it up - mainly because of the poor light that would cast on the other girls leaving ATI/Gothard/Fringe-Lunatic-Religionland families - but I wouldn't feel a personal sense of betrayal..."

I quite agree with Danger Pants statement here, minus the last little bit. For me, it would be a sense of betrayal, particularly as I am a former fundie myself.

"How can we know for sure any of the teen who got away stories are for real ? Unless they file for sexual abuse and go to a public trial, there can't be proofs. Everything happens inside the house so even though they decide to not be anonymous anymore that might not help. In Vyckie's case, she published QF works."

In my case, I filed for sexual abuse, and have the documents (and news stories) to prove it.

I would like to stress that like RHS, I had doubts, which I was simply raising. My intent was not to attack Ruth herself. I didn't comment at all on the first thread.

I still struggle with the concept that we can question people like Emily, but with anyone else? No, can't do that!! Then you are low person and a coward. In my case, I am neither of those things, and neither do I think anybody else here is. If we were to focus the vitriol on the person that wrote Ruth that horrible email, then maybe I could understand it a little more. But as it stands now, I can't understand at all.

Additionally, I had talked to Vyckie about my concerns in the past. I did let her know that I was raising my concerns on Free Jinger.

--------------------------

So you got some blowback. It was, to be truthful, nothing compared to the assault you made on another blogger's privacy. And you did NOT just attack Ruth. You attacked - tho' you may not realize that is what you did - every anonymous ex-fundie blogger, every sometime victim-of-sexism, and thus every poster on the Free Jinger board, too.

And gee whiz, some of the people you attacked took umbrage at that! Shocking, innit? Scandalous, that people who were attacked should be somewhat unhappy at that, and say so!

If you ever want to understand how fundies can lie about how they're doing harm, how abusees can go on to abuse, how people like your parents can claim that they are the innocent victims - just look in the mirror.

Better yet, grow up and apologize to the people you assaulted, starting with Ruth. And then start participating in communities as an actual grownup, not a drama llama.

Otherwise, you're just part of the problem too.

Okay. Okaayyy...I have spent my life looking in mirrors. They surround me everywhere, everyday.

Jo

Dance!

2010-04-21T20:38:00.000-07:00

To dance is to be out of yourself. Larger, more beautiful, more powerful.

~Agnes De Mille~

Dance for me has always been an intoxicating, heady thing, an escape, an outpouring of joy, sorrow or some unspeakable emotion. Either watching it or doing it, it has always appealed and called to me.

I am not overly talented and have no training: yet this passion has remained with me. To watch a couple move so elegantly, and yes, sexily on the screen or to be lost among the highs and lows of the music and dance myself is one of those indescribable things that touches the soul, working healing magic.

People are often so afraid to dance. They think they are bad at it: are self concious, afraid of what others may think. To me, dance should never about others. It should be about you: the ultimate expression of what makes you tick.

Dance allows to release my sexuality, embrace and explore my emotions, to say nothing of the fabulous work out you get whilst doing it. It allows me to be me, nothing else, nothing more.

Jo

Loss and Relationships

2010-04-20T14:51:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

So many times life throws challenges our way that we did not predict, or ask for. Many times these challenges have far more impact then we realise.

The past few months (even years) have not been easy for Justin and I. We have battled loss after loss. Each one with its own particular stab of pain and gut wrenching stress: some have threatened to overwhelm us, and no doubt some have succeeded. But still we keep stepping one foot in front of the other. We are still here, still together.

We had many critics when we first began living together. Many thought we wouldn't even make it a year. Nearly 4 1/2 years later, we are still going. The statistics have always been against us, and we have crossed out nearly every line (and more) on the list of major life crises. Without a doubt, we have been battered and bruised by the roller coaster that has been the first few years of our relationship.

But we still here. We have a very different relationship compared to those few years ago, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Jo

Thoughts on FJ

2010-04-18T18:03:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

And welcome to my humble musings yet again.

Lately I have been feeling rather burned out, particularly when it comes to blogging. I raised some doubts about a fellow blogger on FJ, and got rather slaughtered for it. My doubts have been laid (somewhat) to rest, but the shit storm it stirred up was rather amazing!

I found it an interesting statement that a forum that is undoubtedly snark based, has members that cannot handle the raising of a few, simple doubts. Sure, snark on the unknown fundies all you want, but legitimate and gentle questioning of a fellow member? Can't do that! And if you do, you are a big bad ogre, and somehow cowardly etc.

I know FJians do read here, and I do apologise if you are offended. I love a great deal about the FJ site: it ha been until lately, a huge healing place for me. But lately, with so many new members, the old spirit has been overtaken by a new, altogether different beast. I will still read, but post? I am just not sure any more.

Jo

Trials and Tribulations

2010-04-08T15:07:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

Long time no see! I know, I know, I have been very bad, and not been blogging! Or doing much else, really.

I would firstly like to congratulate Maree on such an interesting, powerful story, and having the strength to write about it and share it to the world. Just to clear up any confusion, Maree is not me. Yes, her name is the same as my middle name...it is just coincidence. :-)

Back to the show!

Crohns has been playing havoc on my back and hips particularly. Crazy. And annoying. And frustrating. I could continue all day, really! I can barely walk, and lying and sitting aren't comfy either. I am now on around 12 pills a day: and I must say they do take a toll.

But, Zoloft? It is really working. I mean really working! I forgot to take it for 2 days: bad idea. I went into an instant down spin. I didn't realise how much better I was compared to where I was 1 month, 2 months, or even a year ago. My new found balance means I can finally sort out what is important to me and what is not. I can discover new parts of me: without the feeling of being constantly on edge, in fear of the big bad wolf, that may or may not be around the corner. I can embrace my needs and wants, instead of feeling that I have failed the impossibly high standards I set myself. It is like the volume in my head has suddenly been turned down. Amazing. Empowering. Inspiring.

Such a pity Crohns isn't holding up its end of the bargain!

Jo

A Poison so Sweet... Part 2

2010-03-28T16:58:00.000-07:00

Maree's story continues today. Part 1 is here.

I moved back in with the crazy family and picked up where I left off: being a nanny, cleaning a HOUSE, with endless washing and still nothing to eat, my income still being the only money G and I had.

I was starting to lose it and needed a break, so I came back to M and stayed with my nanny for a weekend. BIG REALITY CHECK, but being so wrapped up in drugs and alcohol I went back to GL once the weekend finished, and G also returned (he went to AB to see his dad)

This is when it all happened at once: firstly, I went to the doctors whom told me that I might possibly have a STD. He took blood test to confirm what I thought I already knew. Then I went back to the crazy family's house to kick that cheater out, he was swearing the whole time that he never would have done that and that I didn't get the STD from him: I must have cheated on him.

He left to stay with a different aunty in the GL area. During the week wait, I realised something......it didn't matter how I worked it out, my period was late. I did a home pregnancy test but nothing worked, not even the control line: the test was a complete DUD.

I went back to the doctors a week later and my test was negative: I had not contracted any kind of STD/STI. The next test however, was positive...it was a pregnancy test......and yes, I was pregnant.

Most people are over the moon when they find out they are pregnant: if not, they are shocked but soon get excited about their baby. Not me: I cried and cried and cried.

Then the crazy family and I went to the pub and bought a bottle of vodka to try and drown my sorrows.......or maybe this baby, this baby that I didn't want.

I told my now ex-boyfriend about it: he too, was shocked but was convinced we could make it work. I stayed with the crazy family and he moved into the single men's quarters and got a job at the pub next door.

As my pregnancy progressed, I became miserable: I was disgustingly underweight.

Every time I smoked weed I found myself blacking out and falling down wherever I was, completely paralysed for a few minutes. I thought I needed vitamins.

"All I need is $30 to get some pregnancy vitamins", I told my ex. I was still trying to work things out with him: I didn't want to be with him, but then, I couldn't not be around him.

He told me that he didn't have any money at all and I believed him. He promised to get me $50 off his mum for vitamins and pregnancy crap, but I never saw it. He left me his bank card after an argument and told me to get it out myself and return his card tomorrow.......he walked straight to the bank, withdrew his $50, and cancelled his card.

I then found him a few hours later at the pub with a carton of beer, a packet of rollies, and he had just put the last of the change through the pokies. The money he had promised me to both, help me get well and to carry this baby was spent on alcohol and smokes. After an argument, I was escorted from the premises by the police.

Feeling like the world had spun out of control, I spent the next weekend with my straight friend P. We played xbox and ordered pizza and just hung out like normal teenagers ( apart from my constant vomiting from morning sickness). It was during this weekend something in my head clicked: I was no longer Tia: I was just Maree to P. That's all I needed: for someone to remind me of whom I used to be, for someone to love who I was: flaws and all. I'm not sure if he even knows it, but he was my saviour: he made the world stop spinning just long enough for me to realise that I needed to go home.

That weekend I called up MY FAMILY (I had been slowly working things out) and told them that I wanted to come home. I wanted to be a single mum and that I didn't want to be here any more. My dad came and picked me up and took me home.

During my pregnancy, I met Andrew who loved my son before he loved me. He told me: " That baby needs a father, I want to be his father, I don't care what you say, that's my baby". My son also chose him: he was the first person to feel my baby move and the only other person to feel him move until I was 7 months pregnant.

Today, my boys are inseparable. Mattais loves his daddy more then anyone: Daddy has to do everything for him: dress him, help him, carry him.

They have had an unbreakable bond since the womb and I am glad that I finally found the right daddy for my son whom I absolutely love and cherish.

He is our miracle baby: he saved his mummy from a world of misery, sadness and a whole lot of nothingness.

He made his mummy come home.

Guest Post on Quivering Daughters

2010-03-28T16:24:00.000-07:00

My post titled "Silent Sorrows" is up on QD: many thanks to Hillary for being willing to expose and discuss the tragic realities of childhood sexual abuse.

Jo

A Poison so Sweet...

2010-03-26T23:15:00.000-07:00

I met Maree at high school. We didn't have the best relationship at the time. She didn't understand me, and I certainly didn't understand her. She was nearly 3 years younger than me, which didn't help.

Now 5 years on, we reconnected on facebook. And we talked...and talked...and talked. We shared stories, and we laughed and cried together. I found her story compelling to say the least. And I knew I had to share it to the world. Why?

Because her story is a vivid look into the other side of the world. It shows a world that I admittedly, have never experienced for myself. Just as my story contains a lesson or two, so does hers. Above all, it shines a light on things that are not really discussed in the polite society, and bursts a myth or several.

I will warn that it may trigger some.

-----------------------

It all began with a kiss, a poisonous kiss that would destroy everything.

I was 16 years old when my world changed: I had always wanted to run away from home: and escape the anger and violence.

The day was the 15th May 2006: I finally left home in a police car after a violent argument with my mother and father.

For the first few days of my new-found freedom, I stayed with my best friend: living it up with G, a guy whom had just moved to M, I found myself completely seduced and captivated by his words and promises.

After a week of being out of home, I did the stupidest thing I have ever done: I packed my bags, gave them to G (we won't dignify him with a name), said goodbye to my best friend's little sister and walked out while my best friend was in the shower (she would have never let me go if I had stayed for goodbyes).

I ignored the yelling of my name from her mum: got in the car with G, turned off my phone and off we drove together to C to stay with his aunty.

"Things are finally going my way, I escaped", I thought to myself as we drove out of M and on towards a life where we could be happy together forever.

We arrived in C to turn off into the local caravan park...."Its better then being at home," I told myself.

We managed to get a single bed mattress to put on the floor of the caravan as a bed. The place looked tidy, but it still didn't feel clean: cockroaches were everywhere.

As I looked around, and met a few people I began to realise that I looked out of place. I was too neat and tidy: too well dressed in clothes that looked too new.

I was given a new identity that day: just in case anyone I met knew my parents and wanted to tell them where I was. I killed Maree: I was now Tia and could make her anyone I wanted: even G, my own boyfriend, called me Tia.

The guy across from us was a nice man named Kimbo (I thought he was nice), and so, we started drinking with him on a daily basis getting to know everyone.

I also met L: she had three kids and the scariest husband EVER: he was always so moody and violent.

Within two days, I knew I shouldn't be there, after I discovered that K (whom lived across from us) was a full blown junkie who was being beaten by her husband. Also, Kimbo had taken a razor to his wrist and had mulitiple deep cuts. He then proceeded to ask me if I could stitch them up for him.

After a few crazy weeks at the caravan park, G's aunty (who we are staying with) announced that she had been kicked out for not paying rent and that we would stay with her family in GL. I thought it couldn't be worse than the caravan park: how very wrong I was.

We moved some stuff into GL and, when I looked at where I was about to move......it was DISGUSTING.

Dishes EVERYWHERE, soiled nappies, flies, dirt: it was just a mess: a big, filthy, dirty, mess.....and I was about to move in here.

I died a little inside, overwhelmed by all that I was seeing and experiencing.

Thankfully, L had helped us move some stuff to this place and was so appalled by what she saw, she offered for G and I to move in with her, her partner and three kids. At first it seemed like an alright situation.

However, things went from bad to worse as we went from a single matteress in a caravan to a double mattress in an annex. It was the beginning of winter, and was so damn cold, to say nothing of miserable.

I started smoking weed with these people to try and make my surroundings not matter so much.

Next to the lounge chair where everyone sat and smoked were the kid's bunk beds. Three little angels 7, 5, and 2 being exposed to all this. I had never felt so out of place before: I just wanted to go home.

We were made to do chores because neither of us had a job or any income: just our clothes in our bags and that was it.

I became a built in nanny: I looked after three kids, washed their clothes, and helped cook them dinner if we had food to do so.

The van had to be spotless before L's partner got home or, you were punished with no weed. While everyone else was stoned, not caring about what they were doing, you would be working.

After a while, I started losing a lot of weight (very little food will do this to you) and possibly a little of my mind: I started smoking more weed to try and block it all out, all the while doing more chores so that I could be accepted into this crazy little family.

This crazy little family that fed me very little and made me do a lot, had now covered my legs in bruises from a stupid little game they called hittsy. In this game, you got really stoned and punch the person's leg next to you unexpectedly and really hard. If they flinched, they got another two and the punch was passed down the line of legs.

Soon enough I realized my breast were swollen and tender to touch with lumps.......I felt sick a lot of the time: of course, I was pregnant! The next day after I found out I was pregnant, I started miscarrying. And the most horrible thing was that I was so stoned and drunk most of the time, that I didn't even care: to me, this was just a painful period, not a miscarriage.

Eventually, the people we were staying with got short on cash and stopped paying rent. In their world, priorities were WEED, alcohol, food for kids, then rent.

We were asked to move out, but we still had no income. I didnt even have my birth certificate to take to centrelink to get on payments: but in order to get a new birth certificate I needed $50 (that we just didn't have), it was a catch 22.

I left first and moved in Roseberry House in GL, a homeless shelter for troubled youth. G moved in the next day as Roseberry House doesnt take in couples. I thought that we had weathered the storm and that things couldn't get any worse than they have been and that was all up from here.

Roseberry House wasn't too bad: we had our own room and assigned chores to do. It was the closest to family since leaving home. We cooked together, played UNO, and did endless puzzles. I found a best friend in T: she was my rock and didn't even know it.

Eventually, I finally got my centrelink payments sorted and had a small income. However, G still didn't have an income, nor was he trying very hard to get a job (his first job interview at KFC went to shit as he didn't have weed to get stoned and so, he flipped out and didnt attend) and so, I was now supporting the both of us.

In many ways, getting on payments was the worse thing I could have done. I started paying the people we lived with at the caravan park back the money I owed them for helping "look after me" but G didn't hand over a cent. This got a bounty put over our heads in the drug world: any one who could get the money we owed out of us and back to them was rewarded with drugs. I have never felt like I felt when I found this out.

How did it come to this?

Before I knew it, G and I were buying alcohol and weed every pay. Due to the curfews at Roseberry House and the no drug and alcohol policy, I ended up sleeping on the streets several times in the middle of winter in the skimpy clothes I had on my back. I got sick a lot, I lost even more weight, but still continued to abuse my body and mind for some kind of relief from the life I was living. I went everywhere with my eyes bleeding. I started to cut myself to try and relieve myself from all the guilt: what had I done? I ran away from home for this: with nowhere to stay, nothing at all, not even values or self respect.

The couple and their kids finally got their own place and it was right behind Roseberry House. I started hitting the drink and drugs more then ever before. I started to ditch Roseberry House my chores and friends that i had made, to hang back out with the people who made me so miserable in the first place. Roseberry House put up with me as much as they could tolerate but I had become too much for them and was kicked out.

So, I was kicked out of a homeless youth shelter. Maybe I had finally hit rock bottom.

______

Part 2 to come.

The Power of a Sole Voice

2010-03-25T21:19:00.000-07:00

This post was inspired by a recent "A Current Affair" (news program here in Australia) piece on reports of sexual abuse in the a popular 80's tv show.

__________________

Childhood sexual abuse is a taboo topic, to be never spoken about in polite society. And often, not even among family members and those you love the most.

Sadly, childhood sexual abuse thrives in silence. As the daughter of paedophile, I grew up knowing all too well the powers of silence, manipulation and fear. Living, breathing, haunting fear.

But equally, I have spoken up, and have seen the many and varied impacts my choice has had on my life. In many ways, me speaking up was just as traumatic as the actual abuse. My case was severely mishandled by the authorities from start to finish. My family (both immediate and extended) was destroyed, never to be reformed as it was. My father never served his full sentence (which was small to start with), and now lives in a major city close to schools, parks, pools etc.

So I am well aware as to why people remain silent about their abuse, and keep it tightly wrapped up inside, never to be spoken of again. I can also understand why people don't report their abuse to authorities.

However, I am firm believer in the power that lies in revealing the truth. It is an incredibly powerful thing to speak up when you, as both victim and survivor, are ready. In my case, the timing may have been wrong for others, but for me, I was at breaking point: I no longer wanted to play the happy family. As it was to turn out, I had to play the game for another 2 years: thanks to incompetent authorities, and a father who was an expert at manipulation and trickery. Those 2 years were sheer hell: I had been promised that if I would speak up, I would never have to see him again. Instead I saw him night and day for the next 2 years.

But the actual act of speaking out to my close friend M? Was completely priceless. To be validated and told that yes, I was speaking the truth, and that yes, it had happened to her too is/was an experience that changed my life totally. Yes the 2 years after were hell, but ultimately? When I left home (after which he was finally charged), I could hold my head up high and know that I had done the very best job that I (as a teenager) could do. In saying that, I have a few recommendations that I would make to others that come after me, and that I wish someone had told me.

Do have a "safe house" option for after you report (trusted friends, family etc) . You may not (regardless of what anyone may tell you) be removed. So plan ahead, and be prepared to put that plan into action yourself.

Be prepared to be deeply questioned, doubted and ignored, particularly if you have a very well presented family image. The bigger the image, the harder it will be to get someone to listen. Be prepared to tell everything to people who appear not to care. And be prepared to tell it all, in every horrible, horrifying detail.

Remember that by your actions you may save others that may be abused after you. If someone does molest/abuse/rape you, chances are that they have:

a) done it before to another child,
b) will do it again to another child,
c) or has done it before and will do it again.

And above all, talk, talk talk. Talk to your friends, talk to your family. What you find out might surprise you. And if someone does try to "shut you up", talk louder. You are doing the right thing.

Every situation is different, and these points won't apply to everyone. But if one person can use what I have learnt, then this post would fulfilled its purpose.

Perfect Timing.

2010-03-24T07:04:00.000-07:00

Ugh: I have so much I want to blog about, and yet, so much that I am not quite ready to share yet. I am waiting, waiting, waiting: for resolutions, for endings and beginnings: but mostly for the right time.

Life is all about timing... the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable become available, the unattainable... attainable. Have the patience, wait it out.

~Stacey Charter~

Right now, I am in the desert land between all of these things: the no man's land of life. I have been here before, but this time, it is an entirely new (but still totally unwanted) experience of this place.

Patience, indeed. Be patient with me, my dear readers. I am taking my time, I am finding the perfect timing to tell you the things that need to be told, that will be told.

Jo

What is Life like for a Fundamentalist child?

2010-03-21T00:17:00.000-07:00

I just have to share this piece from Lorena at "On Leaving Fundamentalist Christianity" :

Imagine, if you will, that from the time you came into this world, god was a member of your family. When you learned to say mom and dad and your siblings’ names, you also learned to say Jesus, god, and Bible.

For everything good, your mother thanked god. Every offence, god would avenge. Every disgrace was a prelude for something great, because god would make it so.

It takes a good hard look at life for a child born into a fundamentalist family/community: and it also takes a look at the process if someone was to leave such a family/community. Gutsy, well written piece.

Check it out here.

Jo