Not what I wanted to say...

I had planned this post for a while… A couple of times since my last entry I went to put in a filler post but decided against it… why not wait for the really big news?

Sadly, this is not that entry… not the big news… and most certainly not the entry I’ve been planning to write for quite some time… I’m not sure when that entry will happen now.

I had planned to announce an imminent new family member. Something I’ve wanted to share for quite a while now. Once we'd had the first scan I was going to let work know about my pregnancy and start planning maternity leave, the beginning of a whole new phase of life, letting everyone know how excited we were...

I had had my 12 week visit with a midwife, and booked our first scan for last Friday afternoon - 13 weeks. We walked into the clinic nervous, excited and ready to see our forming child for the first time. Tom held my hand as I lay on the bed and our technician (Hugh) got started.


Hugh was very quiet to begin with and explained that I had a retroverted uterus and that was making it difficult for him to “see”. He also went on to explain that this wasn’t anything to be concerned about… well that was a relief… but it was making his job a little harder. He continued to look hard at the screen and remained very quiet. I thought it was a bit odd that he wasn’t explaining what he was seeing but it was my first scan – how should I know how these things went? Heck he was probably concentrating on keeping the scanner pointed at the right spot, around my other organs behind which my (newly discovered) retroverted uterus was hiding …. Right?

And that’s when he turned to us and said “I can’t see a heartbeat”.

In that moment we went from being excited new parents to … what?

Hugh turned the screen towards us and pointed out the foetus and told us how it was much smaller that it should be and was only about the size it would be at eight weeks not 13 weeks there was no sign of a heartbeat he’d give us a moment while he got a second opinion from someone else….. I barely remember what was said.

As he left the room the blood was rushing around my head and I felt like I’d been thrown off a cliff. Tom squeezed my hand and we both said to each other how it just wasn’t meant to be and it was just nature’s way. It would be okay, we’d start again.

Deep breath… deep breath…

Hugh came back in with confirmation… and a pamphlet on dealing with miscarriage… He was very sorry, and not really any consolation… but there would be no charge for the visit. Well thank God for that… I couldn’t get out of there quick enough… out the door and heading for the car, gulping down the fresh air as I scrambled for the car. Gritting my teeth and trying to keep it together… and Tommy… God… how was he feeling?


What a shitty way to find out... there'd been no real signs of anything being wrong and yet in split second all the plans and excitement from the last couple of months dissolved around us.


Where to from here?

Chemical reaction...

In a conversation with some workmates somehow the topic turned to MacGyver. I can recall seeing the pilot show for this where at one point MacGyver saves the day by plugging a leaking acid pipe with a bar of chocolate. Now, I'd have written the whole thing off as a crock of codswollop had it not been for science class...

...5th form science class, with Mr Calder.

One lesson we we treated to a somewhat spectactular demonstration of the same reaction MacGyver used. It involved mixing sulphuric acid with sugar to demonstrate the dehydration properties of the sulphuric acid. Mr Calder brought out a really big beaker - it must've held at least a litre. Into it he poured some sucrose ... he seemed rather gleeful, with a twinkle in his eye. Then as he added the suphuric acid he was fair dancing about like a pixie.
Initially we weren't very impressed... all that seemed to happen was the sugar tuned yellow... not very exciting really....
But then there was a bit of a waft... and a bit more.... fumes like smoke started filling the room and the distinct smell of burning toffee permeated everything. As the thing fizzed and spewed out smoke it got to the stage where we could barely see each other...
"Okay, everybody outside... come on now... is everyone here? Standstill while I do a head count..."
Ha!! We had to hang out outside while the air cleared in the classroom. This was going to be something to talk about. As far as any of us knew, this was the first time anyone had evacuated a science class! Eventually the haze cleared and we started filing back i nto the class.... Lo! there! ... where the beaker had farted and spewed forth all those fumes... was a tower... a black tower of.... now what was that reaction meant to produce?.... A carbon tower rose out of the beaker and stood there... at least 18 inches tall.... As we all stood about with our mouths agape in awe, Mr Calder grinned, eyes twinkling... it was the BEST.SCIENCE.CLASS.EVER!!

This doesn't even do the experience justice.... but gives you some idea...

Nana's china cabinet

In the corner of my grandparents’ living room was an oak, lead glass china cabinet. It had been there as long as I could remember. It was always a fascination and held all sorts of treasures. There was the obligatory china – cups, saucer and cake plate sets, little knickknacks, vases and figurines collected over the years. Pretty much everything in there had a story attached to it – sadly I don’t remember them all.

There was a figurine of a lady that had been broken and carefully glued back together a couple of times. This was something my mother (as a girl) had bought as a present for my grandmother at some point.

There were mementos from Mum's wedding - her bouquet, garter and the wee figures off the cake.

There was a tiny wee elephant in a bean. My grandfather and one of his friends had a thing going where they would try and outdo each other finding the smallest gifts… I have a feeling this might have won. I remember, if we’d been really good, my grandfather showing it to us. He’d take the wee box out of the cabinet, carefully removed the cotton wool wadding and reveal a little wee bean with an ivory cap. We’d sit very still while he would fumble with his big fingers to remove the cap and then very carefully shake out the contents… a tiny carved ivory elephant. We would look at it, dwarfed in his big hands, sitting as still as we could and holding our breath in case we caused it to be dropped. Getting it back into the bean and the lid back on was always a more precarious procedure than removing it. I used to love it when we were allowed to have a look and wonder at such a tiny wee thing.

There was a weekend, before the farm was sold, that I was up for a visit. Nana was getting a new lounge suite and was in the process of moving out the old furniture out, having a spring clean and getting rid of the china cabinet…… WHAT?!?!?!?

She said it had been there for years and she was sick of it, she’d take it to the dump or a second hand shop….. WHAT?!?!?!?

All the memories… all the history… it had been there as long as I could remember!! How could she just biff it out?? I was horrified!
“Nana, I’ll buy it off you! Don’t take just throw it out! We’ll get it valued and find out what it’s worth and I’ll buy it off you.”
Nana wasn’t having any of that…. But she said I could have it. She wasn’t interested in the money… she just wanted to make room for her new couch.

She had taken a few things out that she wanted to keep, including a few tea-cup sets that she was putting aside to give to nieces on their 21st, and then she told me to pick out what I wanted and she’d pack up what was left so my sister could look at it and pick things out. Being the eldest I often had first pick at things and having already been given the cabinet I didn’t feel right about taking first dibs on the contents. I asked Nana if we could pack it up and store it under the spare bed until my sister was visiting and could have first choice on what was there. Nana agreed and so we started wrapping the bit’s and pieces and packing them into boxes.

My grandfather (Tom) came in to see how we were getting on, he sat in his chair while we packed and told me where the china cabinet had come from. Before Tom was balloted the farm my Grandparents and Mum lived between Waima and Taheke (South Hokianga). When they were going to move the locals organised a farewell party for them and had a whip-around which was used to pay for the beer. According to Tom, Nana’s brother (who didn’t drink) reckoned they’d bought too much beer but Tom reckoned it was a pretty good party and they had enough…. Anyways, they were presented with the balance of the money from the whip-around and with it they paid for the china cabinet.

While Tom was telling us this Mum had come into the room. She was about seven when they moved to Omamari and had been given a cup, saucer and cake plate with a kingfisher design by the ladies in the CWI as a farewell gift. She said that it should stay with the china cabinet so she would dig it out of the cupboard for me.

And so… I now have the china-cabinet and some of the original contents. As it turned out when my sister had her pick of the contents she chose things that I had not been so keen on so that worked out well. For a long time it had a place in my lounge or dining area of the various homes I’ve lived in since then. Sadly now we are short of space and it now lives in Libby’s room. I feel a bit mean relegating it to a little place where it is not often seen although I do occasionally go and peer through the glass or pick out something to look at… it acts as a prompt to memories and although it seems lonely I can’t bear to part with it altogether.

One day I will have another home where it can once again have pride of place… but until then I will just have to live with the occasional visits to the spare room.