Luck

There are certain dates that are easy to remember. The birthdays of the people you love, wedding anniversaries, public holidays (!). Whatever the reason for remembering a date on the calendar, you can be pretty sure there's an emotional link behind it. Today was not a birthday in our family, but the first anniversary of one of my luckiest days, so far anyway. Last year, on January 17th, I had a ten day old baby Maisie; a two year old Phoebe with a broken nose; a husband recovering from heart surgery; and a rather hairy ride in am ambulance.

When I woke at 5am on a Sunday morning to feed my little girl, I didn't realise the chaos I was about to unleash. Having given birth in an Australian hospital in the year 2010, I think I might be forgiven for assuming that all had gone well. I was already aware that, had I attempted to give birth to Jack during the early 1900's, neither of us would have survived - so needless to say I was pretty grateful to be a modern girl!! But it never occurred to me that "post-birth complications" could sneak up on you after five days at home. Now, we had brought Maisie home on a 45 degree day, so that entire week the air-conditioning unit had not been turned off. As I sat there feeding her, I began shivering in my nightie and thought, wow, we might actually have to turn that cold air down! But the longer she fed, the more my tummy began to ache, until I felt very, very ill.

When I crept back into bed at 5:45am, I was shaking so hard from the cold that my teeth were chattering. Christian woke up and asked if I was ok, and I told him that I just needed to sleep, and asked that he wake me for Maisie's next feed. Thankfully, my husband never does as he is told! He took one look at me, called the ambulance, and only managed to be dressed himself before they arrived. By this time, I was in agony and couldn't uncurl my body from the foetal position. Probably my most distressing moment from this day was being put onto the stretcher while Jack and Phoebe watched. They were both sleepy-eyed, clad in rumpled pyjamas, and neither of them said a word. Christian quickly asked Jack to take Phoebe's hand, and led them away so they could not see me leaving in the ambulance. For months afterwards, Jack was convinced I had "gone away in the ambulance" if I so much as disappeared to go to the supermarket...this still breaks my heart into little pieces.

We were not told how serious the situation was until days later, or how lucky I was that the ambulance wasn't delayed. I know how fortunate I am to have a disobedient husband (but don't tell him I told you that!) Even though it took me months and months to completely recuperate, I have only thought of this day on a handful of occasions in the past twelve months. There has always been something else to occupy my thoughts (and let's face it, the cerebral space is quite limited after three bouts of baby brain...) I didn't realise how much today's date would affect me. Although I know that I'm fine, and have been for some time, I didn't realise how emotional I would feel today. I didn't realise I would spend the day at Southland with my mum, acutely aware of how wonderful it was to be sharing this time with her and the Mouse. I didn't realise that I would become weepy, watching my children playing in their pyjamas before bed. I didn't realise that I would silently cry while feeding Maisie tonight, simply because she is so big, and so little, and mine to hold. I didn't realise that it would hit me, that a year ago today, I very nearly lost them all.

Now, you must be thinking I am an enormous sook, wallowing in emotional codswallop, etc, etc. But let me put it this way. Over the last twelve months, we have heard time and time again from so many people, "My goodness, but you've had a run of bad luck!" And you could most certainly look at it that way. However, you could also say that I recovered magnificently, and Christian's heart is patched up marvellously, and my mum is completely recovered, and all the horrible things that got thrown at us this year have actually, mostly, turned out pretty darn well. So when you think about it, we've actually had incredibly good luck. And the best thing of all, is that today marks the start of a new year since the "bad" luck began - meaning that we are officially entering a brand-spanking new period of time, in which it will ALL be good. And I will be free to weep over my children doing random things, for a very, very, very long time....until there comes a point where they turn around and say, "Mum! For goodness sake. Stop crying!!!!! You're embarrassing us!!" Oh, I can't wait for that day.