when I was a kid...

Something that has really really been bothering me lately are the huge changes in parenting over the years. Now, I'm not an expert, so as you read my post please understand that these are my reflections from my perspective, and I am in no way trying to criticise other parents, I am just stating an observation... only time will tell what long-term effects (or lack of long-term effects) modern parenting will have on children and what others choose for their children are their own business. I don't care what others do (well other than when you are talking about parenting that is clearly abusive or going to have clear negative long term implications for a child), but it does bother me that parents look at me sometimes as if I am crazy to parent the way I do and yet in comparison to some previous generations what I do is sooooo tame?!

When I was a kid only the minority of kids had a birthday each year. And when there was a birthday party there was generally a handful of kids invited, not the whole class. Parties in which the entire class were invited were a rarity!

When I was a kid birthday cakes were usually straight out of the Women's weekly cake book. Unless you had a Maccas party... then you had icecream cake with sprinkles.

When I was a kid my mother was more protective than others. Other kids rode their bikes around the streets and disappeared for hours. We rode ours around the court only. We were not the average.

When I was a kid playgrounds were awesomely "dangerous". The seesaws went THUMP and the point of them was to try to get the other person to fly up in the air! And yes I was winded on a seesaw. Monkey bars broke multiple arms. There were these awesome spinning things that you hung onto that bobbed up and down in the air as they swung in a full circle. There were trees to climb. We all copped a few footys in the face. And our parents did not follow us around every item at the playground.

When I was a kid parents were (a little too!!) relaxed about seatbelts in the event you had an extra person to fit into the car and not enough seatbelts. As long as you bobbed down far enough that the cops wouldn't see you you were fine.

I lived too far away from school to walk to school... but hey, when I was a kid parents didn't fret over their kids walking to school. Even preps could be dropped off in the school carpark to find their own way to their classroom (and we didn't get lost!!). And when my mum was a kid they would walk in from miles away to get to school. And when my grandma was a kid her and her brothers would be packed onto the back of a horse and rode that in for miles to get to school!!!

When I was a kid it was ok to leave your kid in the car while you ran into the shops to get a few things (provided it wasn't too hot and the doors were locked).

When I was a kid disappointments were a normal part of life. If you missed a party or a sleepover coz you were sick, it was disappointing but you just had to deal with it. If you didn't win a competition or top a test well that's just how that worked out. If you desperately wanted a new bike or toy of some kind and your parents had no money, you were told so and you had to revise your dreams because money is a fact of life that you have to learn at some point.

When I was a kid we were not rewarded for basic good behaviour. Respect for others was an expectation not an extraordinary effort on your part. If you were told off by a stranger you then copped it from a parent too rather than the stranger copping it from your parent.

When I was a kid I was given opportunities to learn from my mistakes. I learned the rules of gravity first hand. I learned that money has to be earned, and that although I am equal to others, I may not always have the same resources or opportunities as others but that's ok because I need to focus on what resources and opportunities I do have. I learned that my behaviour towards others has consequences. I learned that there are boundaries that when crossed have big consequences for my life. I learned that no matter how I may have felt at the time, sometimes parents or others DO know better than me. I learned to fight fair. I learned that I cannot simply have everything in life that I want - and some things in life I will want and never have. I learned to deal with that!!! I learned to deal with the fact that sometimes life isn't fair, that sometimes things happen that I cannot control and that my parents cannot click their fingers and rescue me from ALL situations because sometimes that is not possible. I learned resilience. I learned independence. I learned perseverance. I learned discipline.

And sometimes I can't help but wonder if my children's generation are going to be given opportunities to learn the same.

Joshua's birth journey

I wrote Chloe's birth story down last year, and now that I am on a break I think I better write down Joshua's story before I forget it! I'm getting old ;)

Joshua's journey starts back early in 2007....

Chloe was roughly 7 months old when I came down with some kind of virus that made me feel extremely tired and nauseaus. After 2 weeks with this virus I decided it was time to visit the doctor to find out what the deal was!!! Knowing that the first thing they would want to rule out was pregnancy I decided to conduct a pregnancy test first - we had had a lot of trouble falling pregnant with Chloe, so I figured my natural tendency to not fall pregnant combined with breastfeeding would make this extraordinarily unlikely but hey... better to buy the test than waste time at the doctors. So, I took the test... and lo and behold it was positive!!!!!! THAT explained the fatigue nausea and extremely low supply of breastmilk!!!! I had absolutely no clue whatsoever as to how pregnant I would be so we had an ultrasound which dated me for being due 23rd January 2008 (Chloe would be 15 months). We were a little surprised but over the moon!!

I had a completely smooth easy pregnancy, no problems, no issues!! At 20 weeks we had a scan and found out we were 99% likely having a boy!! After much debate we finally settled on a name, and started buying bits and pieces of boys clothing etc.

From about 30 weeks I started having intense Braxton Hicks contractions. I was quite concerned by them but was reassured by the doctor that my first being born early was random but not at all likely to happen again with the 2nd, and then the midwife told me I was just being a sulk and that she finds way too many 2nd time mums are oversensitive about aches and pains


Late November we moved out of our tiny 2 bedroom shoe box into a 3 bedroom place to make room for our new addition. We decided to move early to ensure that Chloe had time to adjust to that first change before the next big change!

Couple of weeks later I was 34 weeks... on Monday 9th December Chloe became violently ill with some kind of nasty gastro. She spent 2 days awake all night vomiting... and so I spent 2 nights awake with her cleaning up and trying to settle her. Not at all fun when you are feeling big and fat and pregnant and tired!!! Wednesday she finally picked up and we had her cousins over to play (who had also been sick with the gastro). Thursday morning my mum and youngest 2 brothers dropped in to say goodbye on the way to their holiday in Venus Bay. Normally they took their holidays in January but given I was due late January and had been early with Chloe, they had decided to holiday early so they could be around for the birth. I joked around telling mum I would call when the baby was born - she wasn't too impressed at that idea! Later that day Chloe fell ill again  so once again I was up all night with her. Friday my dad left for Venus Bay too (as he had had some work to finish up first). Friday evening I began to feel dizzy and nauseaus myself. Before long I was vomiting, and was so sick I could barely lift my head and needed help to make it to the toilet. Later that evening (about 11pm) I started to have regular but gentle contractions. I mentioned them to Steve and we ummed and ahhhed over them for some time before deciding to call my mum to let her know she should leave her phone on just in case. Steve then decided "hey let's pray and if the contractions haven't stopped in 5min we will call the hospital. So he prayed, and he fell asleep within 2min so I ignored the gentle squeezing contractions and fell asleep in no time at all.

4am (sat morning) I woke up to an intense contraction. I stumbled my way out to the loo, and then on the way back to bed felt my waters come gushing! I woke Steve up, and we immediately called the hospital who told us to come straight in. We called an ambulance because at last check bub wasn't engaged (so high risk of prolapsed cord which can be fatal) and called my mum who said she would head back as soon as it was light enough to drive (she can't drive in the dark) and then called my brother John's mobile over and over and over and over and over again until we finally managed to wake him up (actually I think Jo ended up waking him telling him to answer it lol) and poor guy had to come over at 4:30am (and still had to head to work later that day... sorry Josh owes you big time!). Chloe remained asleep thank God as Steve stumbled around packing a bizarre mix of things while we waited for the ambulance (devastatingly we forgot the cameras so were unable to take any photos of our new baby).

The ambulance came and I had an uncomfortable ride to the hospital (do NOT take one of those in labour unless necessary, NOT GOOD!). They rushed me into maternity (bout 5:30 at this point) and they established that I was definitely in labour and was 3cm dilated already. The nurses told me that I would be having my baby that day, and that he would have to stay in the special care nursery for about 4 weeks. As I was in labour I really didn't care what was happening later!!!!!!

The labour was pretty easy and so the midwives mostly left us unsupervised, but made it very clear that we needed to press the emergency buzzer as soon as I entered the 2nd stage (pushing). Just before 8 I needed to pee so asked Steve to get the midwife to disconnect me from the monitoring machines so that I could head to the toilet. He called the midwife in but somehow instead he headed off to pay for the car parking (machines don't operate before 8) while I lay there fuming and feeling increasingly hostile. When he returned I asked him icily "Can I NOW go to the toilet?" and I was unhooked from the machines to finally relieve my bladder! On my way back I was hit by an intense contraction and then a complete panic as I felt my baby heading down and out at a very fast pace!!! I started screaming at Steve "push the buzzer push the buzzer!!!" as I stood at the bed wondering how on earth I would ever get back up there?!  Steve didn't push the buzzer so I angrily did myself (I hadn't seen that the midwife had walked in and rushed off herself to grab the team... oops). Then it seemed like absolute chaos broke loose - they got me up on the bed and I looked up to see a team of 5-6 people watching me waiting for me to push the baby out?!!!! Not surprisingly I suddenly found myself completely incapable of focusing on pushing out a baby. I was very blessed to have a wonderful midwife who made me focus on her and distracted me from all that was happening in the room.

I was on my back but hunched forward and was absolutely gobsmacked to see my baby's head crown and watch my Joshua Aiden enter the world (at 8:21am). A midwife dumped him on my stomach, and I reached my hand down to touch him, but he was immediately snatched up (he was only there while they cut the cord)  and whisked off to a station thing in front of my bed where 5 people awaited to work on him. They shoved the vaccuum down his throat over and over again, and I started asking over and over again "Is he ok?" but no-one would answer me and the midwife (unsuccessfully) tried to distract me from what was happening (as if I could be distracted from my baby?!!). At the 1min mark they did the Agpar check (while continuing to vaccuum his lungs) and I watched as my blue unresponsive baby's hand was lifted up and just dropped lifeless back down. At that moment a growing sense of horror began to build as I realised that maybe he might not be ok. At the 2min mark he finally gave a cry and then continued to cry incessantly for the rest of the short time he was in with me. They wrapped him up, and let me have a short hold, but they had to get him out to the humidicrib for oxygen etc so I had to say goodbye to him, knowing that because I had gastro it'd be 48hrs before I would see him again. 

The next 48hr were a blur for me. I was given photos and videos of my baby, but I could not see the real baby, could not hold the real baby, and had to helplessly rely on others for updates on him. Worst of all was seeing the videos of him in distress as he fought for each breathe, knowing that I was not able to offer him any comfort.

Sunday evening, the night before I had been promised I could finally see my baby, Joshua started to become more distressed with his breathing. He was on the highest oxygen saturation levels allowed for a humidicrib and they said if he didn't improve in the next few hours he would have to be transferred to Monash to be put on a ventilator. I was devastated - my baby might be transferred so far away when I was so close to finally seeing him?!!

Steve got the word out to all our friends and the church, and a lot of prayers went up for him, and his breathing settled and he stayed at Frankston :)

Monday morning arrived and FINALLY I could see my baby boy!!! Steve took me through to the SCN and over to his little humidicrib. He had a big drip in his head, bruises all over his hands where they had been unable to get a drip in, monitors all over him... but he was still absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. He had at this point been unable to have any milk at all because anything in his stomach would have effected his breathing. I was finally able to touch my baby, so stuck my hands through the little holes, only to discover that touch of any kind, not matter how gentle, distressed him. He would jump in fear and shrink away - but I was reassured that it was just because he was early and is common for prem babies to overreact to touch. He was brought out of the crib and I finally got to have a long cuddle with my baby.

The rest of the story is a blur of needles, drips, nasal tubes, expressing milk, losing over 500g of weight to weigh 2.2kg and then the journey of trying to feed him up to reach his birth weight again etc etc... but the short version is that he improved so incredibly quickly that we were able to take him home only 15 days after he was born - 2 weeks earlier than expected by the staff!!!

And that is my boy's story :)

Claudia the Caterpillar

Chloe brought home a library book this week called "Claudia the Caterpillar". As I read the story to her I was struck at how relevant it was to our family at the moment.
In the story Claudia the caterpillar looks at all the butterflies flying around, and decides she wants to fly just like them. She climbs to the highest tree and leaps off - but just falls down. So she makes herself wings out of leaves and leaps from the highest tree - but just falls down. So then she asks God about her desire to fly like a butterfly - but instead of giving her wings, He leads her to the highest branch of the tree, and shuts her into a dark and cramped place. When she comes out of that place (the cocoon) she has grown wings and can fly.

This story completely captured a journey our family has been on, and I have been waiting for the right time to share this journey... and finally I can!

Almost 8 years ago Steve and I married, and I moved up to Sydney where he had been posted with the navy. He had not yet finished his training, so we were looking forward to the 6 months we were going to have together before he would be posted to a ship. We came straight from honeymoon up to Sydney, and had roughly 4 weeks together unpacking boxes, getting used to living with each other (we had spent the previous year in different states!) and trying to teach me how to navigate the maze of Sydney streets... when he was suddenly posted to a ship (despite the fact that he had not completed training). From that moment on he was away for weeks at a time, without any contact, and when he was back he worked long hours, had to do lots of extra weekend shifts, and he was absolutely exhausted. I was a newly married woman with barely a husband.
Around April he set off on a 3 month trip, and I had the 'fun' of eating alone every night miserable, lonely and unsure as to where and how my husband was. The navy lifestyle on the ships was at complete odds with our Christian values. There was a general consensus that what happens on ship stays on ship, and a complete lack of respect for marriage. One woman on the ship decided she would like my husband in her bed (she was dating someone from his ship as it was?!) - fortunately he had the self-discipline to tell her "hell no" (although he was more polite than that... I wouldn't have been if I'd had the chance but Steve banned me from confronting her on the base and telling her what I thought of her ). 
Anyway... long story short, the pressure on our brand new marriage relationship was intense, and neither of us were coping at all with the way things were. I knew without a doubt that the navy lifestyle was bad for our marriage, bad for us as individuals, and I could not believe that it was in line with God's will for us. But... he couldn't just "quit" the navy, there isn't that option... so there was no "out" in the natural for us. One week at church a visiting preacher spoke on prayer, and on the idea that we should not "negotiate" or "manipulate" God - just ask Him outright for what is on our hearts. So, I went home, and I wrote down what I wanted, and I prayed. My prayer and list was simple - "God, this situation is not good for us, and I cannot believe that it is what you want for us. Firstly, I want Steve off that ship and home. Secondly, I want him out of the navy". Within a few weeks Steve was flown home from Cairns after he spoke to his Warrant Officer to say that I wasn't coping. Within a few weeks of this, he was back on the ship, but developed extreme pain in his wrists and right knee. He was again taken off the ship to be assessed by doctors and specialists etc, and diagnosed with arthritis. This arthritis meant he could no longer work on ships, so he was put on shore permanently, and the process of 'medical discharge' was started.
The medical discharge was not a quick process. In fact, it took them over a year! However, he was paid, he was not at sea and his hours were much more normal!! We were incredibly grateful for God's intervention and miracle in finding us a way out of the navy. However, on the flip side, Steve could not work as an electrician as he had been trained because of his arthritis. He decided to retrain and become a podiatrist. It would mean that for 4 years he would be a full-time student, and so money would be tight, but we felt that in the long-term it was the best option.
For 4 years we stuck closely to a budget, and went without a great deal. I would love to say that it was easy, but it wasn't!! When Steve first started studying we applied for Centrelink payments, only to find out that they would not give us anything other than FTB for nearly 6 months because Steve had been given a payout from the navy. Unfortunately for us most of that payout had all gone on paying off car loans (and tax) because we had not expected to lose it. Steve managed to land Saturday work immediately, so we lived on FTB and his Saturday pay, and the little savings we had. I will never forget when the cold weather first hit, and Chloe did not yet fit any of the winter clothes I had, and I had to take her to church in a pair of woollen stockings that were mine as a baby, and a second-hand jumper we had been given. I could not spare any money to buy her anything. I was so blessed that my mum and Aunty went to Savers and found a few items that would fit her, and a few other things from the shops to get us through.
Anyway, 4 years on, 3 children later, and Steve graduated!!! We were soooo looking forward to being 'normal', having 'normal' hours, and good pay!!! Steve had decided that he would like a career in public health as the hours and money were fantastic. As soon as he had finished exams Steve started job hunting, and applied for a job in Berwick at Casey Allied Health. After applying he found out that they were actually NOT the hospital, they were next door to the hospital and PRIVATE! But, with no other jobs advertised, we had no other option but to take the job because his Austudy payments dropped out as soon as he got his marks (even though no student could work for another month because registration isn't processed till then) and the people where he had applied were willing to pay him a reduced rate to 'observe' in the clinics until he was registered (another moment where God's provision came through!).
The hours at his new job were intense. We had been looking forward to having weekends as a family for the first time... but he had to work Saturdays fortnightly. We had been looking forward to him being home more... but the hours were long and late. And the money was better than we had been on, but only enough to just make ends meet. We stuck with it for a year, but towards the end of last year we really felt that enough was enough - we needed better hours and more money. Steve applied for a job in Warragul in public health. We both had such a good feeling about it, I prayed and prayed and prayed and had such a peace about it, I was SURE the job was his! But... just after Christmas we received the news that it had gone to a more experienced podiatrist. 1 month later a  12 month podiatrist position came up at Frankston Hospital, and suddenly it all made sense - aaaaahhh THAT'S what God was up to - He had a job in Frankston prepared for us!! Steve applied... but didn't even get an interview because there were more experienced candidates.
Within 2 weeks of not getting an interview, Steve's boss spoke to him about the possibility of purchasing one of their practices in Carrum Downs. It seemed a very exciting possibility, so we decided to ask for further information. However, that door shut suddenly in our face when we found out that another work colleague had pretty much finished negotiating a deal for Carrum Downs and 2 other practices at other locations. By now I had had enough of constant disappointments and was resigned to having another year of long hours.
At this point another (full-time, permanent) job was advertised at Frankston Hospital, and this time instead of just applying for it, Steve decided to ask what experience they were looking for. This time the door to public health was completely shut for good in our face  - the only job you can get in public health now (without prior experience in public health) is a grade 1 position - which are low pay and rare!
It seemed as though every possible door to a better life for us was shut now, and our future work stability was not looking solid. It felt like 4 years of sacrifices while Steve was at uni had led to... nothing?! Ouch!!!
Just when it felt like we had no options, a door reopened. Steve received a call from his work colleague to let us know that he no longer wished to buy the Carrum Downs practice as he felt managing 3 practices was going to require a bigger time commitment than he could spare. We began enquiries and negotiations, and managed to settle on a price we could afford. Incredibly, a few weeks ago our loan was approved on the basis that the business is running successfully (because with no home and barely a cent to our name we could never have borrowed that much ourselves!!). It hasn't been a perfectly smooth road - but every obstacle between us and the opportunity to buy this business has been overcome (at times with tears and prayer and support from others).
Friday 1st June Steve becomes the official new owner and manager of Carrum Downs Podiatry (WOOT WOOT!!!!!). We have another journey ahead of us building the business up to full-time hours, and I am sure it cannot all be easy, but given the incredible provision and faithfulness of God towards us, I know that I can trust Him to make a way through the darkest night. It still blows my mind every time I think about the fact that after LESS THAN 18 months working as a podiatrist, Steve has been able to purchase a healthy established business with existing clients - this is NO ORDINARY scenario for a recent graduate!!!!
God has not answered my prayers in the way I expected - He did not simply hand me my desires, we were not immediately given wings - instead we were first led into a dark and cramped place where it seemed our dreams could not come to fruition... and in that dark and cramped place came the opportunity we so desperately needed. Got to love the weird and wacky and backwards way God works!!!

Chloe "Blooming"

Wrote this letter for Chloe because although she will not understand most of this, and even when she does, she will have to learn it all herself probably (if she's like her mother anyway)... it was an opportunity for me to try at least to express what was on my heart for her as she starts school...

CHLOE - origin, Greek. Meaning "Blooming, Verdant."


To my beautiful daughter, Chloe Renee,



As you start school I want to write you a letter for you to hold onto for the next 13 years. Most of it you will not understand yet, but in time you will.


At the moment you are our little blossom – full of potential and life and innocent, sweet beauty. Over the next 13 years that potential will unfold and you will begin to bloom. And I already know that you will be incredible, beautiful and strong.


Always work hard at school and all other areas of your life so that you can develop the potential within you.


Never ever give up on yourself, no matter what.


Never forget that you have family who love you unconditionally.


Dream big, and work hard to bring those dreams to life.


Sometimes others, including your ‘friends’, will say stuff that is not true out of insecurity, jealousy or to try to make themselves seem superior by making another appear inferior. Don’t take it onboard, don’t accept it. Only accept criticism from those who love you and want to see you bloom in your full potential. Don’t flee from correction, a little pruning ensures you will grow straight and tall and strong.


Don’t be frightened or ashamed of your ‘thorns’. They can never diminish the beauty of a flower in full bloom.


A single flower in bloom carries incredible beauty; a field of flowers in bloom also displays incredible beauty. Don’t be afraid to stand alone when your convictions, beliefs and values differ from those around you. Equally, don’t allow yourself to feel inferior to others or lost in the crowd – your contribution is always valuable.


Be careful of who and what you allow into your life lest you allow weeds in to choke the life and potential from within you.


Chloe Renee, you are beautiful and you are highly favoured. We pray that you will grow in wisdom, in confidence, and in favour with God; that you will always know you are loved and that you will face each day with dignity and integrity.


We are always here for you, we will always love you,


Mum and Dad.

The Prenatal Journey of Chloe Renee Devenish

With Chloe's 5th Birthday coming up in just "6 sleeps", I've been marvelling at how fast time has flown, and I realised that although I've never been shy about telling people bits about my pregnancy and birth, I have never taken the time to write out my version of it all for Chloe to read one day... (no... "Choe's" letter about her birth was NOT written by me, it was Steve!!!). So here goes....

Chloe was a very very very wanted baby. For months and months I had been trying to fall pregnant with no success, been through the tears as each cycle the test was negative, and eventually after having tests run which revealed my hormones were crazy... I was told I would need to start fertility treatments as my cycles were not normal (I was told I had PCOS). So I was given the prescription, and waited for my period so I could start the treatment. About a week after my period was due (well... roughly... I could go anything from 4 to 8 weeks between periods!) I found out my brother's wife was due with their 2nd little baby, and I realised... haha if I had fallen pregnant we would be due the EXACT same day!! And then it's hard to explain but I just KNEW that I was pregnant. So I went back to the gynaecologist and said I hadn't had my period yet and suspected I was pregnant (and therefore it'd be dangerous to take the meds) and he ordered a blood test to play it safe. Blood test results came back and YAY there was a baby!!!!! There is no way I could possibly put into words the joy we both felt!

One night about 6-7 weeks into the pregnancy I felt this strong sense that something wasn't right. I wasn't in pain exactly, but I just felt uncomfortable and "stretched" and felt this urgent sense of something not being right. We drove to emergency, waited around for a few hours in which they did another pregnancy test to be sure, told me it's probably normal but to go and see my gynaecologist to organise a scan just in case. A couple of days later Linda and Azz came up to stay with us for the week - Steve had to work still but we were about to head into the city for the day when I started bleeding heavily. I was sure immediately that I must be miscarrying, called Steve to ask him to come home and take me to hospital, and told Linda and Azz that I wasn't coming to the city with them. They insisted on taking me to the hospital themselves, and there I went through the rigmarole of not being allowed food or fluids, sitting around waiting for hours, having to change pads constantly as the bleeding was ridiculous, and having a doctor with tremors unsuccessfully attempt to insert an IV (rolls eyes). Eventually they had a scan lined up for me and in we went. I've never seen anything like what we saw that day. My uterus looked like a war zone with dark patches of blood taking up most of the space - but somehow, against all odds, tucked up in the corner away from the danger, was this teeny tiny little embryo!!! And it even moved!! (Although devastatingly I missed that!). The staff sent me home to rest and I was to see the specialist during the week to organise another scan to ascertain what might be happening.
A week or so later I caught the bus from Ryde into Bondi Junction for my scan (2hr trip involving 2 buses). The scan was uncomfortable, and typically the sonographer refused to tell me anything. However, for the first time I saw my baby's heart beating, and I saw my baby doing some completely uncoordinated moving and the rush of WOWness was incredible and omg I fell in love on the spot! On the way home, about 20min from home, I realised to my horror that I had suddenly started bleeding again (not ideal when you're on a bus with no pads!!!). I had no choice but to hope it didn't soak through too quickly, (fortunately it didn't while on the bus), but on the 5min walk home I ended up soaked in blood and in a lot of pain with cramping. I went to the bathroom to clean up and during this time out came a big clump and sobbing I wrapped it up in tissues and called Steve to let him know we had lost our baby this time. He came straight home and took me to emergency. While in emergency the doctor took my baby to examine, and came back to ask me whether that blood clot was all I had. Oh the relief that that massive thing was a blood clot!! (I didn't know till that moment you could get blood clots that size lol). Again I was sent home to rest and follow up with the gyno.
The gyno was not 100% sure about why the bleeding was occurring but suspected that a major blood vessel had possibly been ruptured during implantation, and that this bleeding was likely to continue until around the 20 week mark. He said it was my decision to make, but that the travel involved in my uni studies was highly likely to lead to miscarriage and I really should be on bed rest until 20 weeks. I picked bed rest!!!
There were 2 more major bleeds in the following weeks, 1 very embarrassingly being at a major shopping centre, and so heavy that my clothes were soaked within 30seconds of it starting. However, I made it to the 20 week mark and the bleeding stopped and other than low iron and a GREY complexion due to having lost too much blood (see photo) I started to experience a "normal" pregnancy, complete with bizarre cravings (I was caught licking a wooden chair to see if it tasted as good as it smelled) and big aversions (I couldn't look at a whole lettuce).

The rest of the pregnancy proceeded with no dramas, and we had so much fun organising baby clothes and furniture, going to the birth and parenting classes etc. At 18 weeks we found out our baby was a little girl and we loved being able to refer to her by her real name from that point on - after thinking we had lost her so many times it was amazing to be able to give her a name and know everything was ok!!!

Somewhere around the 34-35 week mark I had some extremely painful contractions out of the blue that were severe enough that I couldn't walk or talk for a few minutes. However they stopped, and the midwife said they were probably just braxton hicks and a good sign, so we thought nothing more of it.

At 36 weeks (14th Oct) Steve and I went along to his work mate's BBQ on a Sat night. I knew no-one there and had that awkward experience of trying to make conversation with complete strangers (not a favourite past time for me). Just as they started cooking the meat I had this sudden feeling that I was leaking - thinking maybe I had lost bladder control as I had heard rumours that that can happen if you are lazy like me and don't bother with your exercises I rushed to the toilet. However, I kept leaking and leaking and realised omg my waters have broken!!!! I put my head out the door and called Steve until finally someone heard me and sent him over. We called the hospital absolutely lost as to what we were supposed to do, and they told us to come in immediately. So... I had to borrow a towel and waddle out of there holding it between my legs (at least I was wearing a skirt I guess lol).

At the hospital they monitored me etc, but I only had very mild contractions which were lessening so labour was not happening. On top of that Chloe wasn't even engaged (cheeky girl!!) which meant a high risk of prolapsed cord (life threatening for our bub) until she engaged. The hospital had a policy based on the most recent research that suggested that women whose waters had broken could be left to hopefully go into natural labour for up to 4 days before the risk of infection increases... so I spent 2 days lying around in hospital waiting (and nothing) at which Chloe decided it was time to engage... and then 2 days of nothing at home!!! (However it gave us time to organise a carseat!!). And the whole 4 days I was leaking water!!!!

18th October found us on our way to hospital for induction - me with a teeny shrunken belly due to having very little water left, and a lot of paranoia about having a seat belt over a now non-insulated belly! But we got there safely and sat in the waiting room watching all the booked in c-sections go in, followed by another induction etc etc. We had to get there at 7 and by 9:30 we were over it and were given permission to head off for morning tea. During this time I was feeling rather unwell, which I put down to a mixture of nerves and the excessively hot thai green curry from the night before (Steve put ALL the paste in not the standard couple of tbsns lol). But then I started to have cramping that was regular with breaks... and realised... ahhhhh.... labour?

We headed back to the waiting room and Steve informed reception. The pain increased very quickly, and was so predictable that Steve thought he would entertain the others in the waiting room by doing a 5-4-3-2-1 count down to each contraction... I didn't find it so funny!!! The contractions meant more water leakage so I was alternating between leaning on Steve's knees and running to the toilet. The pain started to increase more, and was in my back and no matter what position I was in I could not find relief from the pain. It was quite horrible because I was in so much pain, but surrounded by people waiting for inductions etc so felt I had to keep it together. Steve kept going back to the desk but no-one came and checked on me or anything. Steve managed to get a heat pack for me which I used to try to alleviate the back pain - it helped a little but not enough. Eventually somewhere between 12 and 1, after other patients started to become concerned, a midwife tracked down a contraction reader machine and hooked me up to it. After I had been on it for a bit, they came back and checked the readings and decided they better get me a room because I really was legitimately in labour! (I could've flippin told them!!).

I immediately set myself up on the toilet because I just wanted to sit down and focus without worrying about my waters leaking everywhere! The pain was fast becoming excrutiating, and I was struggling to cope as I was not getting much of a break between contractions. The nurse organised the gas for me which I welcomed gratefully... only to hand back after a few goes as now I was not only in pain but I felt like I was going to vomit and I was dizzy!!! The nausea really took the edge off my focus as I was now trying to deal with back pain, front pain and trying not to vomit. A new midwife came in and shifted me to the bed. The next 3-4 hours passed in an intense cycle of 3 minute contraction followed by 1 minute break. I could not find a way of getting comfortable because if I found a position that helped with the back pain the front would be worse and vice versa. Steve was not able to leave my side for even a moment as I NEEDED his hands and support for every second. I will NEVER forget the awful feeling of dread as 3min of pain would end, and within 20 seconds I knew the next wave was only moments away. The midwives marvelled at my contraction readings as I was having "double contractions" due to the posterior position of my bub - 1min of maximum strength, 1min of slightly reduced, 1min of maximum strength and 1 min of rest. Somewhere around 3 I felt the urge to push with each contraction, to the point where I simply could not help it, I HAD to push. The midwife realised and checked to see if I was fully dilated - nope, only 4cm apparently so please don't push!! Now I was really struggling as all my energy went into NOT pushing leaving me with no reserves to deal with the pain. Desperate I asked for an epidural. Time passed and I asked where my epidural was - "Oh, you definitely want one, I'll go order it". Midwife returned and told me 20min. It was then 3:10, so I thought beauty, I only have to get to 3:30. At 4:10 I really cracked it and told the nurse that she said 20 min and it was now AN HOUR!!!! Not too long after the anaesthetist came and gave his long speech about the risks (meantime I'm thinking SHUT UP AND GET THE FLIPPIN THING IN THERE!!!) and finally they hooked me up.

I was finally able to think, Steve was finally allowed a lunch break... but the pain was still there but alternating sides. The midwife tried angling me from side to side for a time, but still no relief, the pain was still there. She had to organise for the anaesthetist to come back... she wasn't in the room when he came so he felt comfortable in telling me that I was obviously already dilated when given the epidural and the midwife mustn't have checked properly (in hindsight I realised that I had been on the bed for several hours without a visit to the loo, probably having a full bladder had been the problem coz baby can't descend!).

So midwife came back and organised for a doctor to come in (who brought a student in to observe). As I began to push Chloe's heart started dropping and the doctor became concerned that (being a first time mum) a long delivery could be dangerous and so was organising to have the suction there just in case... that was all the encouragement I needed, 4 contractions and I had pushed that baby out - I felt NOTHING (ahhhhh the epidural!!!)... until the next day (bad tear AND it was a dry birth due to my waters having been leaking for 4 days prior so lots of grazing).

They pulled my lil bub up onto my hip (she promptly wee'd on me) and then stuck her in my arms. Chloe did not cry or move, just gazed up at me silently with her HUGE eyes and I gazed back at her and I must say that I became an instant believer in love at first sight. The nurse gave her chest a little rub to remind her that she should probably consider taking her first breathe, and without any fuss she obliged. SOOOO her to come quietly into the world without any fuss, just taking it all in and absorbing!!! And THAT is all I remember, anything after that is a blur because all my focus and attention was on her! But I can give you some stats - she was 2.73kg, 46cm and the sweetest lil thing I'd ever seen!

I am going to raise my children to be "UnAustralian"

Nope - no typo there, in all seriousness, I am going to raise my children to be "UnAustralian".

I don't want my children to become what many Australians are - racist, unempathetic and spoiled.

We live in a blessed country, but although there are cultural differences, financial differences, "colour differences" and huge differences in opportunities between Australia and other countries - we are made of the same flesh and blood and bones as every other human on this planet. It isn't like there is an "Australian" DNA and a "Japanese" DNA - we are all mixed up all over the world. And I do not want my children to develop the mindset of "I am Australian and they are not so I have superior rights".

The "group membership" thing is a widespread mentality that all humans share - which does usually lead to group rivalry and prejudice etc. But to the best of my ability I want to bring my children up differently.

My children live in Australia and were born in Australia and have the right to access opportunities in Australia. But I will never label them "Australian" because they are so much more - they are part of the human race. My children technically have white skin, but I will never label them "white" because that would be just as weird as if I taught them to categorise their group membership by "blue eyed" - it's just what they look like, not who they are. I will teach my kids that although they were fortunate to be born here, that there is plenty to share, and that giving others who were not fortunate to be born here the same opportunities is not a threat but actually a positive sign that we live in a good country. I will teach them that giving to the less fortunate in ALL parts of the world is a good thing because they are human just like us - why should we "only" look after Australians... why should a place of birth limit our generosity and our compassion for others.

I will never teach my childrent to discriminate against others on any basis - that even as Christians we do not need to fear that which is foreign to our beliefs - Jesus hung out with the SAMARITANS, the LEPERS - with those who were NOT accepted. So although I never plan on wearing a durqua, or denying my own faith etc - I do not need to discriminate against those who are different to me because we may be members of "subgroups" but ultimately - we are all humans.

I hope my children become as "UnAustralian" as I am - or more so!!! Because frankly, the general attitude of most Australians towards other nationalities disgusts me and if that is what the Australian identity is built on... count me out!!!

trafficking

We all remember the tragedy and horror of Madeleine McCann. A tiny beautiful 4 year old girl taken away from her parents and all she knew... to goodness knows what!
Many of us have also seen the movie "Taken", and been horrified by the whole concept.
I look at my little 4 year old, and cannot imagine her distress if she were separated from me, let alone her distress if she was subjected to rape after rape after rape...

And yet many of us are somehow unaware of the fact that Anywhere from 700,000 and 4 million women and children are trafficked for the purpose of sex and sexual exploitation every YEAR!!!! These children can be as young as THREE!!!! It isn't some hidden, underground, small problem - it is a multi-billion dollar industry rated as the third most profitable business for organised crime!
Trafficked victims are NOT there by choice, and they cannot just walk out and leave.
We are not immune to human trafficking here in Australia either - there have been 2 confirmed cases of minors (12 year olds) from Thailand being brought into Australia and forced to work in brothels - no prosecution of the traffickers ever occurred?! How wide spread the trafficking of minors is here is unknown, and how widespread the trafficking of other older women here is, is again unknown.
It really disturbs me that this is happening in the world without much of an outcry of indignation at all. We are silent. How is it that some of the number one tourist destinations for Australians can get away with doing so little about this problem?!! It isn't hard for tourists (yes - tourists, it is the western world that has the money) to find these child brothels - so it isn't hard for the authorities to find them either.

There has been a huge reaction this week to the discovery that cows were being cruelly abused before killed in abattoires in Indonesia... HUGE reaction... and I agree, NO living creature should be put through pain and suffering for the sake of someone else's pleasure... but why are Australians prepared to react with outrage over an hour of suffering for a cow, but not prepared to react with outrage over day after day after day after day after year after year of the suffering of women and children in brothels in south east asia and other countries????? We are way too complacent.

It doesn't help either that the media are silent?! I don't understand why?????? Unless it is the fact that it is just too disturbing a story to run?? Because where the suffering of the cows is distressing, I have to say even just the drawn pictures I have seen from children who are in therapy for what they've been through were enough to make my blood turn cold and feel nauseaus.

Anyway, I'VE had enough!!!!! I have been slowly and steadily working my way through a psychology degree, hoping to specialise in trauma, so that maybe I can in time be of some use to the various programs worldwide that are helping rehabilitate some of the rescued women and children. But it isn't enough to me to end up just treating the after effects!! So... I've decided to write to Kevin Rudd (seeming as he's our foreign minister) to find out what we as Australians can do to put pressure on our government to put pressure on some of these countries to do more to stop that trade. And if I hear back from him, I will do whatever it is suggested, even if it means doorknocking every home in Australia for a petition - I will make sure it is done because this is just so wrong, and our Aussie tourist dollars are so vital to these countries - surely we have a pretty strong influence!!!

To finish off I want to add some ways YOU can help. In case you don't want to be complacent either! And when you look through the ideas, remember that one of the key tricks of complacency is to think, I'll do this sometime... but never actually remember to get around to it!!!!

The BODY SHOP are getting involved in the fight WOOT WOOT... they have a petition and there is also a product that when bought, profits go towards supporting trafficking victims... here's their page about it all...
http://www.thebodyshop.com/_en/_ww/values-campaigns/trafficking.aspx

Then there is connecting hands - an organisation who's pure focus is on supporting victims of sex trafficking in Cambodia... there are plenty of ways you can get involved there, here's there website...
http://www.connectinghands.com.au/main/page_home.html

When I hear back from our foreign minister, if there is a way people can be involved... I will definitely let you all know!!!

Also - do some research!!! The best thing you can do is to educate yourself and others around you about what is happening!!

Finally, if you live in the area, in a few months I will be holding a fundraiser where all profits raised will go to connecting hands (and connecting hands is volunteer run, so all profits go straight overseas!)