...And on the family side

yesterday B came home claiming she's a cowgirl. Here we are... my former little lady...

Fabio and I

Fabio is a darling little boy who sleeps and eats and cries and grows up and so on. He is going to be 1 month old tomorrow but tomorrow is Saturday so I already know I won't have the time to sit down and write a post to honor his first monthiversary (this word actually exists).
In his one month of existence, he can count 1 orange hitting his little head, 1 well-done slap in his face, 1 quasi-rollover from the Moses basket, and several pinches.
His mother (me) counts several slaps in her face, several yells in her ears, several kicks taken, much less patience.
I'd love to write a post about "Fabio and I" but I've come quite quickly to the conclusion that "Fabio and I" actually have not really existed so much. On the contrary it is very much "Fabio vs Bianca and I as a mediator".
It is not entirely true of course. During school hours I have got plenty of time to enjoy my new baby, with lots of cuddles and kisses and that amazement of milk stench all over my clothes, but my head spins much more than back in 2011. Back in 2011 I was totally relaxed and drowned in my new role of Earth mum. I loved every second, I can clearly remember that amazing state of mind.
This time around I'm more concerned about Miss Big Sister than in love with Little Bro.  B is definitely struggling with this new arrival and all the other changes she's gone through in the last 6 months. Can't really blame her, but on the other side, I can't justify unacceptable behaviors. And the middle ground isn't easy to find.
Plus I feel guilty because I'd love to give Fabio what I gave to Miss Big Sister back in 2011.
But things change, and for us, too many things have changed. I guess I'm in this space of mind because I'm not entirely comfortable with my new life and this is why I'm experiencing more "bad mummy moments" than I'd like.

The pregnancy after the pregnancy after loss*

It's impressive how little I have got my head around this new baby arrival. As a better blogger than me said, it must be the pregnancy after the pregnancy after loss. All the worries and emotional roller-coaster have been spent during the pregnancy after loss and nothing remains except a overall sense of helplessness. Which I'm not sure it's a good or bad thing.
I packed and shipped all his stuff and now that I'm pretty sure they won't arrive on time I start to worry and feel guilty. I don't even have a car seat to bring him back from the hospital. I don't even have a hospital actually - obviously in my renewed naive life philosophy that everything is going to be OK regardless my direct experience, I cannot even contemplate the possibility that something will not go all right -.

I'm so disorganized that I'm stupid. And the bad news is that I have no energy to do more. My entire package of energy disappeared a couple of days ago with John finally back and with no plans to go away for the foreseeable future. I'm drained. I'm a vegetable and I only want to sleep and wake up after labour with a functional house, a beautiful nursery and lots of accessories.
I would leave Bianca at school even at night if I could, thought that brings along more guilt but hey, it's life! no one said it is easy sail.

On the plus side, Houston is the easiest city ever to live in. Everything is close, everything is large, no need for too many clothes, everything is here as long as you have the address. Do not even think about finding places randomly because you'll end up wandering for hours alongside never-ending boulevards and 8 lines highways. Do you want a restaurant, a shop, a playground? Google it and put the navigation on. This is where my understanding of this place has got so far.

*@findingmynewnormal: sorry I have stolen the headline, but it's so effective... hopefully you will not sue me for plagiarism.

Three bumps

The first one was the normal one. After the 12 canonical weeks I announced the pregnancy to family and friends showing off the picture of the dating scan. I've been fine, energetic, fit the whole pregnancy. I kept working and exercising. I didn't eat sushi and ham and took care to wash the bloody salad properly. I couldn't see myself as a mother, I was not prepared to have a son as any normal first time mum-to-be and I never bonded with the little thing growing inside me until much later.
Then the bump became Jacopo and Jacopo became an angel today three years ago. This was the 'end' of the story. I suddenly became an angel mum with an empty womb and an empty Moses basket with no other thought in mind than getting pregnant again.

The second one was the most desired and the most feared one. I stared at the pregnancy test with excitement and fear and I started to talk to the belly which was a bump just two months earlier that very evening. I never announced the pregnancy: people around me figured out in their own time, people far away never knew. I learned how to handle panic attacks, I survived the number of scans I had, I was tired and sad and scared and angry most of the time. I did eat sushi and ham and could not care less to wash the bloody salad because if Jacopo had died for no reason the bloody salad could go and get lost. I fed myself out of instant noodles, tuna, sweet corn and multivitamin pills to counterbalance the awful diet I was on.  I hated my growing body as never before, and my body paid me back with pain everywhere. But I loved and talked to Bianca a lot. I talked to her since the very first moments I knew she was there and month after month she learnt how to answer, to reassure me, to make me feel safe and good. I spent the first 6 months in tears and the last two months holding my breath. Then Bianca arrived into the word safe and sound and life started to be good again. I enjoyed (and am still enjoying) every single second of motherhood as a gift that I still cannot give for granted. And the first pair of pre-bumps jeans that fit back empowered me as I started to feel a woman again.

The third bump is not a bump yet, it's just a little line on a peestick. It's the desired and yet not so desired one, it's the one that tempts faith, it's the one that 'we'll see', it's the one 'I HATE being pregnant. Why did I put myself in here again?'. Because I still want my three living kids, regardless of my age and my history.
I could wait to publish this post a bit longer, so to rule out things like ectopic pregnancy, early miscarriages and shit like that, but I'm dead sick to hold my breath that my pink line on the peestick is enough for me to celebrate with whoever still bothers to read me. So here I am, expecting my 3rd child, due in May. Watch this space!

Avevo detto che questo era un posto per me e la mia famiglia e dove mi sarei sentita a mio agio. Invece sono mesi che non scrivo nulla. Non ho scritto una parola della mia vita con la Bianca, dell'allattamento, dello svezzamento, dei suoi continui e gioiosi dadadada.
Non mi sembra il posto adatto per discutere di argomenti di accudimento su cui ogni giorno mi confronto, come l'allatamento prolungato, il blw, i pannolini lavabili, lo spremitette a lavoro, l'asilo, il viaggio in bus andata e ritorno.
Mi sembra di fare un torto a tutte le mamme che finiscono qua e non sono ancora nello spazio mentale di voler sapere che cosa c'e' una volta fuori dal tunnel. Perche' io mi reputo fuori. Il che non significa che non pianga piu' il mio angelo. Ma significa che forse ho imparato in una qualche strana forma a convivere con quello che e' successo. Qualche giorno meglio, altri peggio.

La Bianca ha 9 mesi, va all'asilo da 2, mangia da sola a tavola con i grandi, muore dalla voglia di camminare ma ancora non ha capito come si fa. Ogni giorno la guardo e penso che e' la bambina piu' bella dell'universo (ovviamente). Quando la notte piange e dal suo lettino la porto nel mio, si dorme abbracciate (quando non mi scaccia e vuole starsene per i fatti suoi). E la mattina si sveglia e mi dice 'Da' e io le do il buongiorno. Poi ci alziamo, prepariamo e andiamo insieme a scuola e a lavoro. Il martedi' andiamo in piscina e lei nuota sott'acqua con gli occhi aperti e io le canto mille canzoni. La sera quando torniamo a casa prepariamo insieme la cena per babbo che di solito torna piu' tardi di noi. Quando babbo arriva e' sempre una grandissima festa, piena di mille da e de e te. E infine si va a letto, a volte con piu' voglia a volte con meno, a volte fra i pianti, altre senza battere ciglio. E cosi' si ricomincia da capo. Spero per sempre.

Enough

The pram has been turned into a pushchair. You ate your first jacket potato, managed to drink some water, had a nice chat at the pub with us in your own peculiar language and now you're fast asleep in your 6-18 months gro bag. You are growing so fast.
I just wanted to tell you that today 2 years ago, dad and I found out we were expecting your brother, but you were so busy in learning the world that I gave up.
One day, I'll tell you. One day. You have learnt enough for today.

Non ho voglia di scrivere in inglese oggi, ho voglia di scrivere di getto emozioni e pensieri e non dover rileggere 3 volte  in cerca di errori grammaticali. Bianca avra' 6 mesi lunedi' prossimo e non riesco a capire dove il tempo sia volato via. Ora e' qui addormentata accanto a me con la sua tuta fucsia e io sono davanti alla finestra che guardo verso i docks e il cielo grigio che adesso e' davvero casa. Siamo alle prese con lo svezzamento e abbiamo deciso di andare nella direzione del baby led weaning (ci son cose che incredibilmente mi vengono piu' facili in inglese).
Mi sento tutto sommato bene, a volte un po' piu' giu' a volte un po' piu' su, ma questa e' la vita normale. Qualche tempo fa ho pure pensato in maniera cristallina che la mia vita non la cambierei con quella di nessun altro, nonostante tutta la merda in cui ho dovuto sguazzare. Non so come potrei vivere senza la Bianca piu' e non so come abbia potuto vivere prima senza di lei e mi sento in colpa per Jacopo perche' se ci fosse stato lui, lei non ci sarebbe stata e questo e' inaccettabile. Son discorsi del cazzo, ma tanto fa. Lei fra un mese andra' alla nursery, devo gia' trasformare la carrozzina in passeggino e metterla in camera sua. Lei ride e chiacchiera e sembra gia' grande. Stamani ha cercato di prendermi la tazza del caffe' di mano.

Mi chiedo a volte dove andro' da qui, ma per il momento non mi interessa. Mi interessa solo godermi ogni singolo istante di questa creaturina che cresce e di me e di quello che son diventata.

My family, my blog and I

Bianca was 4 months old 2 days ago. She is amazing and we are ready to spend our first Christmas together.
I'm getting back on my feet too. A friend of mine told me something very interesting the other day. She told me I spent so much time being me and Jacopo or/and me and Bianca which I have forgotten about being me. I don't know who I am anymore and I don't know if I have any interest left apart for baby related stuff. I don't like this but I am also mentally exhausted and I find being a mum quite relaxing. In time I will be me again maybe.

Now: what to do with this blog? This blog was a place for me and my family but it was created in memory of Jacopo. Now Bianca keeps me very well attached to reality whereas Jacopo lives in my heart. I have much less time for myself and much more baby stories to tell. Besides being an angel mum brings a number of issues when it comes to earth motherhood. And a number of thoughts. I'm not sure if this is the right place for sharing, but I guess I'll start in the new year.

For now, happy (or as happy as possible) Christmas to everyone who bothered and bothers to read me.

11.11.11

The 11.11.11 at 11.11 Bianca was doing a massive poo on her changing table. Without nappy on. That of course happened thanks to the peculiar flow of energies...

Bianca and I

Bianca and I started our day very early with some naughty wind which didn't want to come out. Coffee for mummy, milk for Bianca and off we went to the embassy. At lunch time we stopped by Cafe' Rouge next to Harrods where Bianca had her milk and mummy her sausage and mash, carrot cake and cappuccino (breastfeeding makes me quite hungry). Posh people gave us strange looks but most of them were very delighted at the sight of you in your sling. Then mummy had to introduce you at the fabulous world of shoes and brought you at Harrods... Sling and heels (or pram and heels) aren't the best match ever but we can work on it. With the providential sales on, mummy had to buy a cardigan for rapid boob access and a fab babygro but you didn't let her shopping much. Why do you cry in shops and smile outside? which kind of mini woman are you? Then we came back home ready for another meal and some sleep. You gave me a lot of cooing and smiles before falling asleep in your almost outgrown moses basket.

Tomorrow will be very similar to today and the day after tomorrow as well. I hope this is how it's going to be forever. This is how it should have been already. But today there is no space for complaints, sadness, regret. Today is a special normal day for Bianca and I.

Hiccups

The most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life

35 weeks

And bloody scared. It's 5am and I'm awoke since 4 am or so, unable to sleep and praying for more and more movements. We are in our new home, which is still a mess but we managed to have a nice bedroom and a very comfy bed. I can hear the stream of the water and the birds. But I just can't sleep. I can't help but thinking that today last time Jacopo was already struggling inside me while I was having unaware sleeps and dreams. If he tried to make me understand he wasn't all right, I did not get it and this is something very hard to be over. I pray that Bianca will make me understand, I pray that she is fine in there. I want these last days to fly by.

John sleeps as a little baby next to me, god bless him and again I can't help but look at him and see my boy who had his nose and his beautiful black hair and I wonder if he can see me here, typing my thoughts at dawn, crying my eyes out and hoping that his little sister will arrive safe into this big world, maybe black haired like he was, to bring us joy and hope and to fill up a little bit that deep black hole which I have in my heart for almost one year.

Always loved never forgotten!

11 August

That's gonna be the booked day of induction. How do I feel? That's a really good question: I have no idea. Numb, emotionless, neutral.
She has dropped down, I felt her all day long, my consultant visited me and assured me that everything is looking good and I still live as if I'd walk on the cliff edge. Everyday I wake up waiting for a tragedy to happen.

I have to say that this odd situation has its bright side: everyday when I realise the tragedy hasn't happened I feel blessed and my never-ending joy is renewed over and over again.

11 August... 3 weeks to go. Could the Gods look after us, for once!

Is this your first baby?

- No, it's my second.
- How wonderful. And how old is your first one?
- He died

Frozen air.

I'm going through this on a daily basis. The first time it happened I was shocked and I lied. The second time I replied that yes, it was my first and mentally apologised to Jacopo. But then I felt so guilty that I swore it was never gonna happen again. Since the third time my standard reply is reported on top of this page. How kindly I deliver the concept that Jacopo left us depends on a few factors:
- if I'm in a good or bad mood
- if the person asking is a perfect stranger or not
- if the person asking asks during a conversation or throw out the question thinking that it's all right to mind my own business just because I'm pregnant.

Whichever is the way I explain that Jacopo did die, I feel 1000 times better this way than denying my son for the sake of people. I'm sorry if it's not the answer they expect, I'm sorry if this is shocking, incredible, terribly sad. I'm sorry if they feel uncomfortable, it is really not my problem. Finally I reckon it's about time that people get to understand that a dead child is still a child, and so, no, this isn't my first baby, and yes, I have a son who died. And, more importantly, NO, I won't forget my son JUST BECAUSE now I'm carrying a daughter. This is a very inaccurate assumption.

End of line.

I hate pregnancy

It's a necessary evil, I know, because hopefully it will lead me to fulfill my dream to be a earth mum but nothing at all changed since last time. Pregnancy is a pain in the arse, makes you feel uncomfortable, makes you lose control of your body and makes too many people mind to your own business.
I see nothing attractive in being a huge whale which barely moves.
I want my baby here now and my functioning body back.

Bianca

Come l'insieme dei colori dell'arcobaleno
Come la spuma delle onde dell'oceano
Come un raggio di sole che penetra le nuvole
Come un foglio che deve essere scritto con parole d'amore
Come una tela che verra' riempita delle immagini piu' belle.

9 months ago

and 2 months to go. Where am I? Everything feels so unreal. Jacopo has never been, Bianca will never be. Do I exist?
Jacopo was born 9 months ago and he was real even if all I have is a picture on my wall and him forever in my heart. Bianca is supposed to be born in 2 months and she is kicking, so she should be real as well. Why do I feel so confused and scared and numb and confused again?
Bianca please, come, hold my hand and bring me back to earth. Jacopo please, keep and eye on us all and don't let anything bad happen. Love you both, little children. Mum

I'm listening

I feel you growing. I can feel you are getting stronger. Don't give up my love. I don't trust my body but I trust you. You'll let me know if something is wrong, if you don't get enough from me and if you are not fine. I'm listening, any second of my day, any single heartbeat of my heart which rings with yours, just a bit slower.

Nesting

I made the bags: one for me one for you. Yours isn't ready yet, I'm waiting for the 'tiny baby' stuff still but everything else is clean and ready. Are you gonna let me use it, this time around? Are you gonna give me the chance to show you what kind of gorgeous mum you have? I'm typing, you're kicking, this sounds familiar.
Now it's time to move towards unfamiliar scenarios, where you cry and drive me crazy and I lack of sleep.
Not long to go, but it feels forever. No long though. Keep growing up steadily, keep kicking and rolling and please... come on earth and home with me.

To my little lady

If you'll ever arrive safe on this earth, we will walk its roads together, hand in hand. You'll learn the beauty of flowers, the feeling of the sun on the skin and the sea on your feet. You'll see the seagulls and the gooses on the riverside in front of home and you'll touch the grass, the leafs and the cherries from the tree. We will visit cities and lands, we will fly over oceans and rest on green fields and we will love each other so much that we can barely bear.
And we will find a confortable place together, where we will go every time we want to stay with you angel brother.
Please my sweet little lady, come home with mum and dad, come home and grow up and be our gift, our rainbow after the storm, our hope, our second special child.