This is a sample of a day here. I write this not for sympathy or to throw a pity party but to help people understand what a mother in my situation faces in a day so that they will show the same love and compassion that you, my friends, have shown me.
6am - alarm goes off and I rejoice that I had something actually resembling sleep. I get up and force myself not to run pyjama clad through the hospital to Kaylee's side. I take my iron supplement, shower and tidy my room a bit quickly, knowing that I will have to move rooms today because Kaylee is six days old. I hope that my new room will have a working heater, hot water that takes less than ten minutes to come through and no hele pad outside the window. When I am all dressed I fill my bag with fruit and nuts, get my pumping gear and put it in the bag, add my journal/notebook/brain on paper, heat pack for helping let down when I am pumping, hook drink bottle on belt. I also grab my bag with my netbook and camera inside. I walk to the lifts and travel to the 7th floor. I force myself to go to the expressing room first where I sit for an hour expressing and reading my Bible and listening to uplifting music and worshiping. When I am finished I carefully wash and put away all my expressing gear, label my milk, gather my bits and pieces THEN I run to Kaylee's side. I check how she has gone in the night, chat to her a bit and touch and stroke her then sit down with my netbook to write e-mails to the other children.
sometime after 8am - My care manager Ali comes on duty and I talk through what plans are for the day. She is also a lactation consultant so I run through what I am doing with expressing and check for any tips she has to add. We get Kaylee out for some skin-to-skin contact. I sit with her and read her the Psalms that meant so much to me during my worship time.
At 9am I reluctantly put my baby back but feel awfully happy that I was able to stand up and put her down all by myself without getting tangled. They are about to take bloods (a heel prick style thing, Kaylee's heels are coverd in nicks due to repeated heel pricks for various tests) and while I feel like wrestling the person taking bloods to the floor and pumelling her to a pulp and screaming my frustration I turn and walk away to pump again, knowing that my job is to feed my baby. While I am pumping I talk on the phone to various support people about things that need to be done. I find out that a volunteer will be ready to help me change rooms when I am done. By the time I finish expressing, clean everything and put my milk away it is past ten. I find out that to get my key I need to go to the Ronald MacDonald house on the next block but thankfully the room will be within the hospital - praise God! I didn't fancy walking the streets on my own at 2am to bring Kaylee's milk to the ward. I get the key and chat a bit to the housing coordinator about our situation and how to deal with the key etc. Then I walk back to my old room and start packing up. The volunteer is a very nice lady who is probably in her 70's. She pushes a trolley full of stuff for me and I carry two bags but we still have to take another trip to get me all moved in. I am awfully thankful for my Pit Chief organising the help as I don't really have the brain power to find my room on my own right now!
11am I meet with the dietician about Kaylee. We discuss formula top up, types of formula, calorie supplementations and what we can do to help Kaylee grow strong quickly and I vow inwardly to work harder at getting enough milk for Kaylee so we only have to calorie supplement. I also talk to an occupational therepist about positioning Kaylee to best help her little body. We talk about preventing SIDS when Kaylee gets home and how I should best take care of her to prevent issues developing. We also talk about support for Kaylee's needs as she gets older (it is a relief to talk about her getting older) and about things like speech therepists, early intervention, timeline for diagnosis etc.
11:30 and I am late to express. I go and express and check in with support people, including my midwife back in Tassie, and call Jon to let him know our girl is going well.
12:30 I take Kaylee her milk. I stand and talk to her for a little and talk to the nurse. I say to the nurse that it feels like I am always walking away from Kaylee's side today. I go over to my room (ride the blue lifts to floor one, walk to the silver lifts, ride up to level 5, the lifts and hallways are often so full they feel like peek hour traffic.) and lay down to keep my feet from swelling anymore and eat something for lunch as I talk to a friend who may be taking me shopping for some clothes tomorrow.
1:30 back on the cardio ward expressing. I fall asleep expressing and am a little annoyed at the milk spilt on my top but rejoice that my body has moved on from "something resembling sleep" to ACTUAL sleep. When I am all cleaned up and Kaylee's milk is delivered I know I should go to bed but I can't bear to walk away again. Each step is like waxing my heart or one of those dog collars with the electric pulse going off. The nurse gives me an excuse to stay by telling me the lactation consultant will be in soon. I get out my netbook to finish writing to the other children and I fall asleep in the chair next to Kaylee's bed. When I wake up I find out the lactation consultant was on the wards but realise that I NEED to go to bed. I tell Kaylee's nurse then turn to walk away from my baby again.
3pm I lay down on my bed and set the timer for an hour and sleep blissfully!
4pm I wake up and go as fast as I can to express.
5pm I go in to take Kaylee's milk in to her. They have just finished attempting to put the long line in. I help clean the blood off Kaylee and talk to the doctor about what our next step is now that the long line didn't work. Kaylee is bundled into my arms and she is exhausted. I hold her and sing to her and comfort her as she sleeps in my arms. I am glad when she twitches in annoyance when the nurse has to change a sensor. I am relieved she still has enough energy and spunk to twitch. The nurse makes up a new bed, throwing the blood stained sheets in the wash. I wonder how much more blood is left in my baby.
I again force myself to put her down. I need to express again.
I meet the Mum of the baby in the next bed and her little daughter in the expressing room. It turns out that she is from Tassie too. They have been here for two months and will be here for at least another two.
I call Jon and let him know the plan about the central line and generally check in with him.
I go to McDonalds for tea and update my Blog and such. I talk to my big brother on the phone while I am doing that. I also start to organise some probiotic support to get lots of good bugs into me (and hopefully my milk) and treat Kaylee's nappy rash. I can't fix most of Kaylee's problems, but maybe I can do something about this one. I go up to my room and discover I have lost my key. I decide it is more important to express first so I head back. While I am expressing I talk to my other kids on the phone about their day and kiss them all goodnight. I also talk to Jon. When I have delivered Kaylee's milk I search for my key in both Kaylee's room and the expressing room. I go down and check that I haddn't dropped my key while I was eating tea and send three of my kid's e-mails (I talk to them at night and they read e-mails in the morning) but have to stop because my lap top is going flat. I realise my phone is too.
I head up to my room and use the phone outside the accomodation to ring around and find someone to let me in. I am trying to work out the logistics of how to deal with the lack of key and overnight expressing while I talk to Jon and I walk in to my room to find my key on my bag, thank you Lord! I continue talking to Jon and we briefly cover how we are going to prepare the kids for the fact that Kaylee will have special needs, what that means for our family, support available etc. The conversation is all too short but I know I have to sleep. We miss sleeping next to each other so much. Hanging up is hard. I unpack my stuff and tidy the bedroom. I can't find my phone charger. I call through to where my old room was and ask them to check for me. While I am waiting for them to call back I call Bek and let her know my phone may well be off overnight and tell her what my extention number is - it is midnight by this stage. They call back to say my charger and camera are at the ward clark's desk, I can get them in the morning.
I eat some porridge and take all my supplements to help my milk and munch on fruit from my fruit basket. I call the ward to let them know I found my key and see how Kaylee is doing. I thank Nadia for taking such good care of my baby and she replies that she is "Such a doll!" I tell her I will see her sometime before sunrise with some milk and she urges me to get some rest. I go and have a shower. After I have a shower I realise the key I had hung on the door handle so I wouldn't forget it is still hanging on the door handle. On the inside of the door. I call security to let me in again, standing in my t-shirt, underwear and towel. I promise them it will be the last time. I realise that I can't turn my phone off to conserve battery like I had planned, I need the alarm. I set the alarm for 4am so I can go and express again and finally lay down to sleep. It is 1am. I pray that I will have the energy to write two more emails before my children wake up.
"I lift my eyes unto the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and earth." Psalm 121:1
Though He slay me, I will trust Him.
Thank you all so much for your words of encouragement, help, glimpses of normal (I love you Analene!) I am blessed beyond words. Here's to not having to change rooms and not locking myself out today.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
An update
Dear friends,
I want to testify of God's love and compassion.
Yesterday was a day of ups and downs.
I held my baby skin to skin and she ATTEMPTED TO LATCH ON. Tears flowed people, tears flowed. I had almost got adjusted to the idea that we may never have a breastfeeding relationship that doesn't involve a pump - which is kind of like having a friendship that is only over e-mail, beautiful but different! This is GOOD news. And at this point it was simply more good news on top of the good news we had been getting since we got here. I think a part of my brain had fooled itself that given time I would walk into the room and she'd be completely better - "normal".
Then Kaylee's breathing went backwards. They did some tests for this including a lumbar puncture among other invasive proceedures. The day before yesterday was a HARD day adjusting to a new ward and sleep still alluded me so to walk in and be told this more than knocked the wind out of my sails. Especially as I was told this by my favourite PICU doctor, who also told me that Kaylee may end up back in PICU.
I want to hold my daughter through every painful proceedure and sing to her and the fact that I can't just kills me. I have been trying to be there for every moment that she stops breathing, every moment that she experiences pain, every moment that she is unsettled and at the moments she is peacefully resting, I want to sit in the chair next to her an watch her. But at this, I walked away. My legs were swollen to twice their size, I had run out of fresh underwear, I was shaking and crying, I had not slept more than ten hours since Kaylee was born total - and that was restless and broken, hardly sleep really. I was at my limit.
And this is where I testify of God's love.
I walked downstairs to where my Pit Crew Capitan was waiting - with a Bible and some clothes. I cried long and hard on her shoulder as she prayed over me. The Holy Spirit comforted me with scripture - Psalm 121. I prayed that the angels would sing over Kaylee seeing a I could not. The Holy Spirit reminded me of Zephaniah 3:14-20 - read it people it's good stuff. I cried and I talked, I talked and I cried. I drank coffee. I came to a realisation. Standing next to my daughter trying to feel as hurting as she does, DOES NOT HELP HER. It kills me to do it but I have to trust my medical team of fantastic doctors and nurses and WALK AWAY. This is new to me. I am ALWAYS the one to comfort my newborns, I change 95% of the nappies, I had to laugh when a friend confessed to me today that she is a control freak because she is one of my subjects - for I am the QUEEN of control freaks. I used to be involved in every moment of my children's lives and right now I am a completely different kind of mother. Changed overnight. It is strange getting my bearings in this new world and I know that I need to find my role and my groove soon so I don't burn out.
I went upstairs and changed my clothes then went down to Kaylee's room where she had settled quickly after the tests. Sitting next to her was the biggest fruit basket I have ever seen. Seriously people, you are TOO GOOD TO ME. The person who sent this too me I have never met in person, she is a fellow homeschooling Mum on an internet forum. She only knows me through the words I write yet God used her to give me exactly what I needed at the time.
So I have made a plan.
I am going to do the things I can do the best way I can.
I will hold Kaylee, I will sing to Kaylee, I will express milk 2-3 hourly through the day and 3-4 hourly through the night, I will read to Kaylee, I will love on Kaylee with all my heart.
And sometimes I will walk away.
I will eat, I will sleep, I will write.
I will cry on the shoulders of my angels with skin on.
I will breathe fresh air.
I will go against every fibre of my being to accept graciously the extraordinary
outpouring of generosity I am facing from friends, family and all my "Imaginary Friends" out there in the internet world.
I will not torture myself as I walk away with thoughts of "what if my daughter dies while I am laughing with a friend" because I know I have loved her best I can and will continue to love her best I can. And I will put on my own oxygen mask so I can be there for her.
So I slept a bit and expressed more than twice as much milk afterwards.
I munched a sweet pear and wrote.
I cry, I laugh, I talk to my other kids, I taste chocolate.
And I sit by Kaylee's bed and be her Mum.
Because that is all I can do.
And I will do it well
Thanks to God and thanks to you.
Later that night I spoke to my children on the phone and as I put down the phone was overwhelmed with gut wrenching grief.....and my pit crew chief knocked on the door, held me, gave me the things I had asked for, prayed over me, talked to me, laughed with me.
God is good.
I am like a tomato plant. Without His staking me up, I would be a jumbled mess on the
ground covered in rotten fruit. But He is holding me up.
Thankyou Lord.
Today I was better after something resembling sleep. I moved rooms but I had help to
do so. I had support on the end of my phone. I was better to myself and therefore was more able to be there for Kaylee. I fell asleep while expressing milk (I worked out I spend about nine hours a day doing this at the moment, trying to get enough for my tiny girl to help her grow into a not-so-tiny girl) and I fell asleep in the chair by her bed. I had a real, healing, hour long sleep and expressed more milk.
Sheila – my favourite PICU Dr. – came back to put a long line into Kaylee so we can give her some specific medicine over a longer period (test results for Meningitis and a culture growth came back inconclusive, so we need to treat for them just in case). I turned up just as her job was finished and did my job – cuddling and singing to my completely exhausted baby whose mouth fell open as she slept, causing me to realise she has my lips.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get a long line in. Her little blood vessals are just SO small. So tomorrow they will be taking her to surgery to put in a central line. I am going to do my job, make milk, cuddle, read, talk, sing and pray like crazy. I am going to ignore the bleeps and squeeks of the machines and let the medical staff do their thing without trying to control, direct or even understand their every movement.
Please pray.
Pray that the doctors will get a line in quickly and easily tomorrow.
Pray that the cardio team will have wisdom and discernment as they formulate a plan
for the care of Kaylee’s little, holey heart.
Pray that the nappy rash on her bottom (thrushy, thanks to the uber doses of antibiotics) will be cured.
Pray that my little girl keeps on breathing.
Give thanks for a day where Kaylee did not stop breathing once today (she is on Maximum dose caffeine, I see many a moccha in my girl’s future!)
Give thanks for an amazing support network that has sprung into action for me. My Pit Crew Chief literally gave me the shirt off her back last night – a very comfortable one with breastfeeding access.
Give thanks for McDonalds. The “food” sucks but the free WiFi is fantastic and I can access it 24 hours just by sitting outside the restaurant in the hospital
Give thanks for good friends visiting and offering help to Jon back in Tasmania.
Give thanks for mobile phones. I hate them, but I love that I am contactable at all times by the ward, my husband, my friends and the comments you leave on this blog. I can also call my support team.
Give thanks for His Word. Psalms 30-35 were for me this morning as I expressed.
Pray that I keep making super milk and make more of it for my girl.
Give thanks for the testimony that my little girl will have.
“Let her sleep, for when she wakes she will move mountains”- Midsummer Night’s Dream
I want to testify of God's love and compassion.
Yesterday was a day of ups and downs.
I held my baby skin to skin and she ATTEMPTED TO LATCH ON. Tears flowed people, tears flowed. I had almost got adjusted to the idea that we may never have a breastfeeding relationship that doesn't involve a pump - which is kind of like having a friendship that is only over e-mail, beautiful but different! This is GOOD news. And at this point it was simply more good news on top of the good news we had been getting since we got here. I think a part of my brain had fooled itself that given time I would walk into the room and she'd be completely better - "normal".
Then Kaylee's breathing went backwards. They did some tests for this including a lumbar puncture among other invasive proceedures. The day before yesterday was a HARD day adjusting to a new ward and sleep still alluded me so to walk in and be told this more than knocked the wind out of my sails. Especially as I was told this by my favourite PICU doctor, who also told me that Kaylee may end up back in PICU.
I want to hold my daughter through every painful proceedure and sing to her and the fact that I can't just kills me. I have been trying to be there for every moment that she stops breathing, every moment that she experiences pain, every moment that she is unsettled and at the moments she is peacefully resting, I want to sit in the chair next to her an watch her. But at this, I walked away. My legs were swollen to twice their size, I had run out of fresh underwear, I was shaking and crying, I had not slept more than ten hours since Kaylee was born total - and that was restless and broken, hardly sleep really. I was at my limit.
And this is where I testify of God's love.
I walked downstairs to where my Pit Crew Capitan was waiting - with a Bible and some clothes. I cried long and hard on her shoulder as she prayed over me. The Holy Spirit comforted me with scripture - Psalm 121. I prayed that the angels would sing over Kaylee seeing a I could not. The Holy Spirit reminded me of Zephaniah 3:14-20 - read it people it's good stuff. I cried and I talked, I talked and I cried. I drank coffee. I came to a realisation. Standing next to my daughter trying to feel as hurting as she does, DOES NOT HELP HER. It kills me to do it but I have to trust my medical team of fantastic doctors and nurses and WALK AWAY. This is new to me. I am ALWAYS the one to comfort my newborns, I change 95% of the nappies, I had to laugh when a friend confessed to me today that she is a control freak because she is one of my subjects - for I am the QUEEN of control freaks. I used to be involved in every moment of my children's lives and right now I am a completely different kind of mother. Changed overnight. It is strange getting my bearings in this new world and I know that I need to find my role and my groove soon so I don't burn out.
I went upstairs and changed my clothes then went down to Kaylee's room where she had settled quickly after the tests. Sitting next to her was the biggest fruit basket I have ever seen. Seriously people, you are TOO GOOD TO ME. The person who sent this too me I have never met in person, she is a fellow homeschooling Mum on an internet forum. She only knows me through the words I write yet God used her to give me exactly what I needed at the time.
So I have made a plan.
I am going to do the things I can do the best way I can.
I will hold Kaylee, I will sing to Kaylee, I will express milk 2-3 hourly through the day and 3-4 hourly through the night, I will read to Kaylee, I will love on Kaylee with all my heart.
And sometimes I will walk away.
I will eat, I will sleep, I will write.
I will cry on the shoulders of my angels with skin on.
I will breathe fresh air.
I will go against every fibre of my being to accept graciously the extraordinary
outpouring of generosity I am facing from friends, family and all my "Imaginary Friends" out there in the internet world.
I will not torture myself as I walk away with thoughts of "what if my daughter dies while I am laughing with a friend" because I know I have loved her best I can and will continue to love her best I can. And I will put on my own oxygen mask so I can be there for her.
So I slept a bit and expressed more than twice as much milk afterwards.
I munched a sweet pear and wrote.
I cry, I laugh, I talk to my other kids, I taste chocolate.
And I sit by Kaylee's bed and be her Mum.
Because that is all I can do.
And I will do it well
Thanks to God and thanks to you.
Later that night I spoke to my children on the phone and as I put down the phone was overwhelmed with gut wrenching grief.....and my pit crew chief knocked on the door, held me, gave me the things I had asked for, prayed over me, talked to me, laughed with me.
God is good.
I am like a tomato plant. Without His staking me up, I would be a jumbled mess on the
ground covered in rotten fruit. But He is holding me up.
Thankyou Lord.
Today I was better after something resembling sleep. I moved rooms but I had help to
do so. I had support on the end of my phone. I was better to myself and therefore was more able to be there for Kaylee. I fell asleep while expressing milk (I worked out I spend about nine hours a day doing this at the moment, trying to get enough for my tiny girl to help her grow into a not-so-tiny girl) and I fell asleep in the chair by her bed. I had a real, healing, hour long sleep and expressed more milk.
Sheila – my favourite PICU Dr. – came back to put a long line into Kaylee so we can give her some specific medicine over a longer period (test results for Meningitis and a culture growth came back inconclusive, so we need to treat for them just in case). I turned up just as her job was finished and did my job – cuddling and singing to my completely exhausted baby whose mouth fell open as she slept, causing me to realise she has my lips.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get a long line in. Her little blood vessals are just SO small. So tomorrow they will be taking her to surgery to put in a central line. I am going to do my job, make milk, cuddle, read, talk, sing and pray like crazy. I am going to ignore the bleeps and squeeks of the machines and let the medical staff do their thing without trying to control, direct or even understand their every movement.
Please pray.
Pray that the doctors will get a line in quickly and easily tomorrow.
Pray that the cardio team will have wisdom and discernment as they formulate a plan
for the care of Kaylee’s little, holey heart.
Pray that the nappy rash on her bottom (thrushy, thanks to the uber doses of antibiotics) will be cured.
Pray that my little girl keeps on breathing.
Give thanks for a day where Kaylee did not stop breathing once today (she is on Maximum dose caffeine, I see many a moccha in my girl’s future!)
Give thanks for an amazing support network that has sprung into action for me. My Pit Crew Chief literally gave me the shirt off her back last night – a very comfortable one with breastfeeding access.
Give thanks for McDonalds. The “food” sucks but the free WiFi is fantastic and I can access it 24 hours just by sitting outside the restaurant in the hospital
Give thanks for good friends visiting and offering help to Jon back in Tasmania.
Give thanks for mobile phones. I hate them, but I love that I am contactable at all times by the ward, my husband, my friends and the comments you leave on this blog. I can also call my support team.
Give thanks for His Word. Psalms 30-35 were for me this morning as I expressed.
Pray that I keep making super milk and make more of it for my girl.
Give thanks for the testimony that my little girl will have.
“Let her sleep, for when she wakes she will move mountains”- Midsummer Night’s Dream
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Plan of action
As yet I am still totally unaware of how long I will be in Melbourne but suspect it is more like days than weeks - YAY!!
However, I do want to take advantage of all you lovely people who are offering me help. My problem is I would rather cuddle my baby and lactate than trawl through the offers of increadable and awesome help to find someone who can bring me what I need.
ENTER BEK.
Bek is my pit crew chief in Melbourne - my Doc Hudson for the Cars fans out there.
If I want/need something I will call Bek. Bek will then find someone who can change my oil, fill my tank or give me new tires while I sit and bliss out with my baby. Isn't that FANTASTIC?!?!? I am amazingly blessed. Bek has been my friend for well over a decade and it is showing up as a decade well spent.
SO
All you melbournites who have offered help. Bek's email is: shaneandbekah(at)hotmail(dot)com - obviously change the (at) to @ and the (dot) to .
Currently Bek is about to bring me a Bible and some fresh clothes. Specific needs/wants/whims include raspberry leaf tea (just plain please, not mixed with other herbs) an Avent dummy, brewer's yeast, flax oil, a bag for me to stash stuff in to take home on the plane when I go, nuts to munch on and a story book for me to read to my beautiful girl.
I am a user at the moment people, all you're likely to get back is a smile and a wave but know thanks is coming from the bottom of my heart. It is just that my total energy, attention and affection is on my little girl (who I just cuddled for over an hour *bliss*), my husband and my other kids.
God bless you all!
However, I do want to take advantage of all you lovely people who are offering me help. My problem is I would rather cuddle my baby and lactate than trawl through the offers of increadable and awesome help to find someone who can bring me what I need.
ENTER BEK.
Bek is my pit crew chief in Melbourne - my Doc Hudson for the Cars fans out there.
If I want/need something I will call Bek. Bek will then find someone who can change my oil, fill my tank or give me new tires while I sit and bliss out with my baby. Isn't that FANTASTIC?!?!? I am amazingly blessed. Bek has been my friend for well over a decade and it is showing up as a decade well spent.
SO
All you melbournites who have offered help. Bek's email is: shaneandbekah(at)hotmail(dot)com - obviously change the (at) to @ and the (dot) to .
Currently Bek is about to bring me a Bible and some fresh clothes. Specific needs/wants/whims include raspberry leaf tea (just plain please, not mixed with other herbs) an Avent dummy, brewer's yeast, flax oil, a bag for me to stash stuff in to take home on the plane when I go, nuts to munch on and a story book for me to read to my beautiful girl.
I am a user at the moment people, all you're likely to get back is a smile and a wave but know thanks is coming from the bottom of my heart. It is just that my total energy, attention and affection is on my little girl (who I just cuddled for over an hour *bliss*), my husband and my other kids.
God bless you all!
I want to testify of God's Love
I have been finding it hard to sleep.
Yesterday was LONG and HARD. It was good to get out of PICU and into Cardio but I had to learn and absorb a LOT and had no time for any sleep whatsoever. Not great when trying to establish a milk supply. By the time I got to bed I was crying with exhaustion and shaking from head to foot but it still took 3/4 hour to get to sleep. I awoke at 2am and decided to express. I found my favourite spot and set up, with my netbook open so I could read the e-mails the children sent to me - a treat I had not had time for as yet. While I was reading and expressing I was flooded with a warm love for them. I expressed 80ml. The previous milking session had only given 35 ml. The oxytocin produced in my body by feeling their love has made milk for our baby and helped me relax.
Be anxious in nothing, but in everything give thanks.
What a good God to give me such an amazing family.
Praise God.
Yesterday was LONG and HARD. It was good to get out of PICU and into Cardio but I had to learn and absorb a LOT and had no time for any sleep whatsoever. Not great when trying to establish a milk supply. By the time I got to bed I was crying with exhaustion and shaking from head to foot but it still took 3/4 hour to get to sleep. I awoke at 2am and decided to express. I found my favourite spot and set up, with my netbook open so I could read the e-mails the children sent to me - a treat I had not had time for as yet. While I was reading and expressing I was flooded with a warm love for them. I expressed 80ml. The previous milking session had only given 35 ml. The oxytocin produced in my body by feeling their love has made milk for our baby and helped me relax.
Be anxious in nothing, but in everything give thanks.
What a good God to give me such an amazing family.
Praise God.
Monday, September 12, 2011
About today
I will get back to the story of how we got here later but tonight I need to share quickly about today and go to bed.
Prayers.
Requests:
Please ask that I get sleep - I am not finding that one easy. Hopefully now the adrenaline is wearing off and a few stresses are off/changed in nature I will start to sleep but I know I need to sleep which makes me stressed about sleeping and it all turns into a self-perpetuating mess!
Please ask that Kaylee continue to do well.
Please pray that the angels will sing "Jesus Loves Me" and "When He Cometh" to her when she is sad and I am not there. These are her songs and it kills me that I can't sing them to her each and every time she is upset.
The Cardio team are meeting tomorrow to discuss her case and form a care plan. Please pray that they have wisdom, discernment and compassion.
The genetics people will be discussing a diagnosis with me tomorrow. Please pray that I will be able to wrap my head around it.
Thanksgiving:
We are in the cardio ward now and I finally have a comfortable chair next to her bed. One that I can fold out and sleep on if I need to. Thankyou Lord.
There is a plan of action with feeding Kaylee so I know how many mls I need to provide in order to prevent the need for sup. feeding. This gives me a sense of direction and something to organise, chart and move toward. I needed that.
Friends. The messages you leave here on this blog reach my phone instantly. I can't reply simply because most of the time I have no time! But they bring me great comfort. Rest assured those offers of practical help have been taken note off along with contact details etc. and when I have a moment in this whirlwind I will process that and see what people can do.
She opened her eyes and looked right at me. For the first time. My daughter has eyes and they focus (kind of) PRAISE GOD! I get awfully excited about each bit that I find that works.
Thankyou everyone. I am overwhelmed with love and the Goodness of Our Compassionate and Loving God. Anything good in me right now is because He is polishing me as His jewel - and a jewel is just a dead rock until the light hits it. His light is what you see if you see anything good in me right now. To Him be the Glory.
And Thank-you Lord for the Beautiful Kaylee Guest AKA Tulip AKA Princess Hairy Legs
Prayers.
Requests:
Please ask that I get sleep - I am not finding that one easy. Hopefully now the adrenaline is wearing off and a few stresses are off/changed in nature I will start to sleep but I know I need to sleep which makes me stressed about sleeping and it all turns into a self-perpetuating mess!
Please ask that Kaylee continue to do well.
Please pray that the angels will sing "Jesus Loves Me" and "When He Cometh" to her when she is sad and I am not there. These are her songs and it kills me that I can't sing them to her each and every time she is upset.
The Cardio team are meeting tomorrow to discuss her case and form a care plan. Please pray that they have wisdom, discernment and compassion.
The genetics people will be discussing a diagnosis with me tomorrow. Please pray that I will be able to wrap my head around it.
Thanksgiving:
We are in the cardio ward now and I finally have a comfortable chair next to her bed. One that I can fold out and sleep on if I need to. Thankyou Lord.
There is a plan of action with feeding Kaylee so I know how many mls I need to provide in order to prevent the need for sup. feeding. This gives me a sense of direction and something to organise, chart and move toward. I needed that.
Friends. The messages you leave here on this blog reach my phone instantly. I can't reply simply because most of the time I have no time! But they bring me great comfort. Rest assured those offers of practical help have been taken note off along with contact details etc. and when I have a moment in this whirlwind I will process that and see what people can do.
She opened her eyes and looked right at me. For the first time. My daughter has eyes and they focus (kind of) PRAISE GOD! I get awfully excited about each bit that I find that works.
Thankyou everyone. I am overwhelmed with love and the Goodness of Our Compassionate and Loving God. Anything good in me right now is because He is polishing me as His jewel - and a jewel is just a dead rock until the light hits it. His light is what you see if you see anything good in me right now. To Him be the Glory.
And Thank-you Lord for the Beautiful Kaylee Guest AKA Tulip AKA Princess Hairy Legs
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Our Journey to PICU - part 1
For those who don't know, I am currently at the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne with our newest daughter. The prognosis is looking unimaginably better than it first appeared but there is likely a long road ahead of us. What it looks like and where it leads is to God's Glory and so long as it involves being the mother of Kaylee Grace it is well worth any bumps on the road.
This my recollection of the story of our journey to Paediatrics Intensive Care Unit. I will finish it over the next few days and weeks as I am able.
Kaylee Grace Guest was born 10:15am 8/9/2011.
She was born at the Birth Centre, delivered by the same midwife who has delivered 5 of my children now and has become family to us. Jean, who has also attended two of my other births was also there and of course Jon was there too. In between contractions leading up to crowning I was singing "Jesus Loves Me" with the CD I had playing and Kaylee was greeted by her midwives and mother singing hymns (which sounds terribly hippy and crunchy, but it was the most natural and beautiful thing in the world!). Her birth was amazing and wonderful (and hard work! - but only 2.25 hours of it). She breathed well within a minute of birth and pinked up nicely. I will post her birth story one day (I did write it down in a writing Journal sent to me by a dear friend) but this is the story of what happened after that.
The first thing we noticed about Kaylee is that she was small. The second thing was that she was beautiful. And amazing. And wonderful. Amidst all that I noticed there are some differences in my precious girl. She has some hairy patches on her upper thighs, a mono-brow (a delicate and beautiful one, she pulls it off where many would fail), rolls of skin on the back of her neck, creases accross her palms, small hands and feet for her size, a horse and squeeky cry that you can hardly hear and a few other bits and bobs. She also has Anna's lips, tiny fingernails and a mop of curly hair - I just want to make it clear here that she is Kaylee - who has many wonderful, normal, unique, quirky, unusual and completely ordinary features all mixed in together. But it cannót be avoided that some of these features indicate there may be some "congenital abnormality". What that is, we don't know yet. What I do know is that she is my daughter.
Anyway....
The "Abnormal" features (which makes her sound like she if from X-men, need to get her a costume I think) were not focused on by any of us who noticed them and we simply enjoyed having Kaylee as Kaylee for a while. We had a few hours of cuddles, phoned everyone to let them know she was born, did all the "After a birth" stuff (weighing, cleaning me up etc.) had lunch and then wandered accross to the hospital so that Kaylee could get checked out.
The Peds Registrar examined her and decided to suction out a little bit of stuff from her mouth. This made Kaylee choke. Then turn blue. Panic, room filling with people, recussitation gear, Jon and I clinging together terrified and shaking and furious and praying as Anna watched over us and prayed silent prayers but Kaylee came good again after a bit of work and everything calmed down to a degree. The fuss bought in the Peds big wig Dr who checked Kaylee out and I changed Kaylee's first nappy grasping at some type of normalcy amid the chaos that had just happened. After a bit we were all sitting down again and had all taken a deep breath while I glowered at the poor Registrar who had suctioned Kaylee - we later made up and became friends but at the time I could have choked her. Dr Baylee - the big wig Dr - asked me what I had noticed about Kaylee. I gave a run down of the features I had noticed then added that I also noticed she is beautiful, my daughter and she is simply Kaylee - who we are getting to know. He nodded and in his quiet and slow way informed me that he felt that she needed close monitoring and thought she needed to be admitted. Immediately I asked if I could be rooming in with her and was told that she would probably need closer monitoring than that. I reeled a bit at that but nodded consent as I absorbed the information. The next few minutes were a bit of a blur but I do remember Robyn, the nurse who had arrived amid the earlier panic, stepping forward and suggesting that Kaylee be put into a cot in a room where I could sleep on the fold out bed next to her. I could have kissed her. Kaylee was bundled into our arms and Jon and I sat together with her alone and cried, held each other, held her, prayed wordless prayers and reeled for a few moments.
We all went into the neonatal ward and Kaylee was put into a box cot, I was introduced to Daniel who would be our nurse and various arrangements started being made. Jon and I were organising the care of the other children until he could get home, sorting out my stuff that I would need and all the logistical issues, the nursing staff were sorting out Kaylee, the doctors were sorting out what they needed to and there was a general blur of activity. Everyone was kind and compassionate. I can't remember why Kaylee was taken into the ICU unit at first - perhaps to do some tests or put in a drip or prepare for X-rays or something - but she stopped breathing again. She did not need intensive resuscitation but it became clear that she would need to stay in the ICU with her own personal attendant and various monitors. Thankfully, I could stay on the fold out chair down the hall so there was no locked door between my baby and I for our first night.
That first night it felt like every time I left the room something new happened or there was some new bit of information to process or something else I needed to do. I had to keep reminding myself to sit down, drink water, try and express a bit of clostrum (I was only getting tiny drips which I would rub on Kaylee's lips). I sang to her, especially when her oxygen levels started to drop. She would pick up a bit when I sang Jesus Loves Me. One minute I would be composed and the next I would have tears running down my face as I sang to her. But whatever it was I just kept praying and singing. The nurses (who I got to know very well while we were there) would quietly explain everything to me. The doctors were gentle and kind and the Registrar won me over totally when she got a drip into Kaylee first go (not easy in a 5 pound 4 baby who has abnormally small hands and feet!). And they kept attaching machine after machine. By the time I went to bed that night Kaylee had a breathing contraption on which made her look like she was about to go snorkeling to inflate her lungs out. I finally forced myself to go to bed.
I woke up about 3am and could not sleep so I got up and tried to express again. On going back to bed I sobbed so hard the muscles in my abdomen cramped up so I got up and sat by Kaylee with my writing journal sent to me by a friend in America. Writing Kaylee's bith story into it made me feel like my friend from America – who I only know online - was holding me and praying for me. I wrote for about four hours as I watched over my precious girl, singing to her every time her oxygen levels dipped or she started to try and cry.
I went out to get some breakfast in the maternity unit. I struggled with a cereal box and made it explode cereal everywhere but managed to sort myself out some food. I smiled at all the babies in there which were so small compared to my previous babies and so big compared to Kaylee. I struck up a conversation with one lovely, particularly shell-shocked looking new Mum. She told me her baby had been overdue and I could tell by her waddle and the reeling look in her eye that the birth had not been easy. She looked so young and I just wanted to hold her and tell her she'd be OK! I was wistful when I heard other babies cry, wishing mine could cry like that.
I went back in and tried to get some sleep. I probably slept for about an hour and a half before getting up and going to sit in next to Kaylee during "Grand Rounds" where Kaylee was presented to all the doctors. Anna came in and we talked and she checked me over and reminded me of all the things I need to do to take care of me (at this point I kept forgetting I had given birth less than 24 hours before). Various tests, x-rays, ultra-sounds, drugs. Phone calls home to my kids, to Jon. Through the course of the day it became clear that Kaylee would have to go to Launceston or Hobart. The inital diagnosis on her heart was making it look like Melbourne - potentially for weeks or months. Logistics, drugs, explaining, reeling, tears running down face, expressing, telling myself to drink and go to the toilet and shower.
To be continued...part 2
This my recollection of the story of our journey to Paediatrics Intensive Care Unit. I will finish it over the next few days and weeks as I am able.
Kaylee Grace Guest was born 10:15am 8/9/2011.
She was born at the Birth Centre, delivered by the same midwife who has delivered 5 of my children now and has become family to us. Jean, who has also attended two of my other births was also there and of course Jon was there too. In between contractions leading up to crowning I was singing "Jesus Loves Me" with the CD I had playing and Kaylee was greeted by her midwives and mother singing hymns (which sounds terribly hippy and crunchy, but it was the most natural and beautiful thing in the world!). Her birth was amazing and wonderful (and hard work! - but only 2.25 hours of it). She breathed well within a minute of birth and pinked up nicely. I will post her birth story one day (I did write it down in a writing Journal sent to me by a dear friend) but this is the story of what happened after that.
The first thing we noticed about Kaylee is that she was small. The second thing was that she was beautiful. And amazing. And wonderful. Amidst all that I noticed there are some differences in my precious girl. She has some hairy patches on her upper thighs, a mono-brow (a delicate and beautiful one, she pulls it off where many would fail), rolls of skin on the back of her neck, creases accross her palms, small hands and feet for her size, a horse and squeeky cry that you can hardly hear and a few other bits and bobs. She also has Anna's lips, tiny fingernails and a mop of curly hair - I just want to make it clear here that she is Kaylee - who has many wonderful, normal, unique, quirky, unusual and completely ordinary features all mixed in together. But it cannót be avoided that some of these features indicate there may be some "congenital abnormality". What that is, we don't know yet. What I do know is that she is my daughter.
Anyway....
The "Abnormal" features (which makes her sound like she if from X-men, need to get her a costume I think) were not focused on by any of us who noticed them and we simply enjoyed having Kaylee as Kaylee for a while. We had a few hours of cuddles, phoned everyone to let them know she was born, did all the "After a birth" stuff (weighing, cleaning me up etc.) had lunch and then wandered accross to the hospital so that Kaylee could get checked out.
The Peds Registrar examined her and decided to suction out a little bit of stuff from her mouth. This made Kaylee choke. Then turn blue. Panic, room filling with people, recussitation gear, Jon and I clinging together terrified and shaking and furious and praying as Anna watched over us and prayed silent prayers but Kaylee came good again after a bit of work and everything calmed down to a degree. The fuss bought in the Peds big wig Dr who checked Kaylee out and I changed Kaylee's first nappy grasping at some type of normalcy amid the chaos that had just happened. After a bit we were all sitting down again and had all taken a deep breath while I glowered at the poor Registrar who had suctioned Kaylee - we later made up and became friends but at the time I could have choked her. Dr Baylee - the big wig Dr - asked me what I had noticed about Kaylee. I gave a run down of the features I had noticed then added that I also noticed she is beautiful, my daughter and she is simply Kaylee - who we are getting to know. He nodded and in his quiet and slow way informed me that he felt that she needed close monitoring and thought she needed to be admitted. Immediately I asked if I could be rooming in with her and was told that she would probably need closer monitoring than that. I reeled a bit at that but nodded consent as I absorbed the information. The next few minutes were a bit of a blur but I do remember Robyn, the nurse who had arrived amid the earlier panic, stepping forward and suggesting that Kaylee be put into a cot in a room where I could sleep on the fold out bed next to her. I could have kissed her. Kaylee was bundled into our arms and Jon and I sat together with her alone and cried, held each other, held her, prayed wordless prayers and reeled for a few moments.
We all went into the neonatal ward and Kaylee was put into a box cot, I was introduced to Daniel who would be our nurse and various arrangements started being made. Jon and I were organising the care of the other children until he could get home, sorting out my stuff that I would need and all the logistical issues, the nursing staff were sorting out Kaylee, the doctors were sorting out what they needed to and there was a general blur of activity. Everyone was kind and compassionate. I can't remember why Kaylee was taken into the ICU unit at first - perhaps to do some tests or put in a drip or prepare for X-rays or something - but she stopped breathing again. She did not need intensive resuscitation but it became clear that she would need to stay in the ICU with her own personal attendant and various monitors. Thankfully, I could stay on the fold out chair down the hall so there was no locked door between my baby and I for our first night.
That first night it felt like every time I left the room something new happened or there was some new bit of information to process or something else I needed to do. I had to keep reminding myself to sit down, drink water, try and express a bit of clostrum (I was only getting tiny drips which I would rub on Kaylee's lips). I sang to her, especially when her oxygen levels started to drop. She would pick up a bit when I sang Jesus Loves Me. One minute I would be composed and the next I would have tears running down my face as I sang to her. But whatever it was I just kept praying and singing. The nurses (who I got to know very well while we were there) would quietly explain everything to me. The doctors were gentle and kind and the Registrar won me over totally when she got a drip into Kaylee first go (not easy in a 5 pound 4 baby who has abnormally small hands and feet!). And they kept attaching machine after machine. By the time I went to bed that night Kaylee had a breathing contraption on which made her look like she was about to go snorkeling to inflate her lungs out. I finally forced myself to go to bed.
I woke up about 3am and could not sleep so I got up and tried to express again. On going back to bed I sobbed so hard the muscles in my abdomen cramped up so I got up and sat by Kaylee with my writing journal sent to me by a friend in America. Writing Kaylee's bith story into it made me feel like my friend from America – who I only know online - was holding me and praying for me. I wrote for about four hours as I watched over my precious girl, singing to her every time her oxygen levels dipped or she started to try and cry.
I went out to get some breakfast in the maternity unit. I struggled with a cereal box and made it explode cereal everywhere but managed to sort myself out some food. I smiled at all the babies in there which were so small compared to my previous babies and so big compared to Kaylee. I struck up a conversation with one lovely, particularly shell-shocked looking new Mum. She told me her baby had been overdue and I could tell by her waddle and the reeling look in her eye that the birth had not been easy. She looked so young and I just wanted to hold her and tell her she'd be OK! I was wistful when I heard other babies cry, wishing mine could cry like that.
I went back in and tried to get some sleep. I probably slept for about an hour and a half before getting up and going to sit in next to Kaylee during "Grand Rounds" where Kaylee was presented to all the doctors. Anna came in and we talked and she checked me over and reminded me of all the things I need to do to take care of me (at this point I kept forgetting I had given birth less than 24 hours before). Various tests, x-rays, ultra-sounds, drugs. Phone calls home to my kids, to Jon. Through the course of the day it became clear that Kaylee would have to go to Launceston or Hobart. The inital diagnosis on her heart was making it look like Melbourne - potentially for weeks or months. Logistics, drugs, explaining, reeling, tears running down face, expressing, telling myself to drink and go to the toilet and shower.
To be continued...part 2
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Ten ways I help my husband be a Great Dad
It was Father's Day in America last Sunday so the American media and blogsphere have been buzzing with stuff about fathers. Now, fathers day gets almost as mushy as mother's day - which I have already ranted about a little - but I did take this opportunity to have a think about my children's father and just how amazingly, wonderfully, awesome he is (the fact that he is also my husband totally aside). So I was inspired to write a short post about how I help him be so amazingly, wonderfully, awesome. Because being my blog, it is all about me my friends.
CAUTION: this is not an instruction manual on how to make the father of your children just like mine. Last time I checked, I didn't make mine, God did. This post is primarily a reaction to an article that I read that was designed to make mothers everywhere feel like slighted victims if their husband didn't do xyz rather than the powerful contributors to their family dynamic that they actually are.
1. I pray for my husband and his relationship with our children. I could probably stop there really. Honestly, this is the most powerful thing I do. If I am concerned about something I pray about it before (and after) I talk to my Beloved about it. If I am pleased about something I thank and praise him and God. Don't underestimate the power of sustained and persistent prayer.
2. I step back and let him do it his way. It is possible, just possible, that I am a little bit of a control freak. So let's just say this doesn't come natural. I have all day with the kids and I have my own little way of doing things that I know works. When he does things differently it can be tempting to step in and offer instruction on how to do it PROPERLY (read: my way). But if I step back and shut up, it is amazing how his way usually works to.....sometimes even better.
3. I keep my mouth shut when he does make mistakes. Yes folks, he makes mistakes - rarely but he does. Sometimes when that happens it can be tempting to jump in and "fix" it while I shoot accusatory glares and snide comments in his direction. But let's face it, I make mistakes too! I try and remember to treat him the same way I want to be treated when I screw up.
4. I respect and draw on his opinion. If I am stumped with something with the kids, I ask him what he thinks I should do. It can be tempting to believe that because I have read more parenting books and I spend all day with the kids that he does not have anything to offer but it couldn't be further than the truth. He comes from a place of knowing me, knowing the kids and loving us all. He has a fresh perspective after being out of the house at work all day and he is clever too. Sometimes I have asked his advice then been tempted to ignore it because it didn't line up with what I thought. But then I put it into practise and lo and behold, it DOES work! Even just thrashing out an problem together helps us to be a team rather than two free agents.
5. I back him up. If we disagree on how to deal with a situation we talk about it quietly and away from the kids. As far as the kids are concerned we are a united front. The kids know they cannot play one against the other and they feel more secure because of it.
6. I celebrate who he is with the kids. Beloved likes cars. I don't drive. He likes 4 wheel driving, I like hiking. He has an eye for detail, I'm more of a big-picture-bang-it-together kinda gal. But when I talk to the kids I celebrate these aspects of who he is. I talk about how clever he is to put together the new transmission for the ute himself and how he saved us so much money. I talk about how Daddy worked so hard for months to finish off the boy's room. I excitedly look forward to our next 4wd trip. It would be easy to gripe in front of the kids about how long it took to get some of those jobs finished or moan about how I'd really rather walk a track than bump along in a car but by talking Daddy up in their eyes I am nurturing their relationship with him.
7. I structure our day to include him, even when he is gone. At meal times and worship times throughout the day we pray for him when he is gone. We plan little surprises for him. We have time planned after dinner for stories and worship that includes Daddy whenever he is home and once a week we have a special Sabbath dinner which I try and make an event to look forward to - so he is eager to be at home with us rather than doing a few more hours at work to escape from the chaos at home! Now, things will probably LOOK different at your house than they do at mine but the core principle is the same. Dad is a treasured member of our home even he isn't here.
8. I actively nurture my relationship with my Beloved. I know I am a better mother when Beloved is filling my love-tank so I do that for him. I know that two things make him happy - a decent meal and clean clothes. Seeing as I am the at-home member of our partnership, I try and make these a priority. When he walks through the door I try and take a moment to offer a coffee, hug and/or conversation. I try and make sure I am not too tired at the end of the day to make time for him. I try and get the kids to bed early on Thursday nights then make us a special "date night" meal. Again, this may look different in other people's homes and I don't necessarily get all these things done every day but the core principle is active nurturing of our relationship.
9. I don't compare. I have a friend whose husband gets up one morning on the weekends, organises the kids and brings her breakfast in bed. Sometimes on the weekend I get up, put on a DVD for the kids, sneak back into bed and we whisper sweet nothings for a while. A sleep in and breakfast in bed? Nice, but not nice enough to give up all the other wonderful things about my husband. If I were to compare and complain all it would serve to do is erode his confidence as husband and father. I prefer to build him up whenever possible.
10. Finally, if I do need to come to him with a concern, I do it prayerfully, privately and lovingly. I humbly try and remember all MY failings and shortcomings and try to speak in such a way that I build him up and help him rather than erode and tear him down. I try and look at my own failings first - remove the plank from my own eye so to speak and ask myself if it really IS important enough to make an issue of. Because I do this rarely and I do my best to do it with the same kindness and love I would want for me, he is usually quite open to listen and make changes if needs be.
So there it is, my top ten for my top bloke.
Love you honey!!
CAUTION: this is not an instruction manual on how to make the father of your children just like mine. Last time I checked, I didn't make mine, God did. This post is primarily a reaction to an article that I read that was designed to make mothers everywhere feel like slighted victims if their husband didn't do xyz rather than the powerful contributors to their family dynamic that they actually are.
1. I pray for my husband and his relationship with our children. I could probably stop there really. Honestly, this is the most powerful thing I do. If I am concerned about something I pray about it before (and after) I talk to my Beloved about it. If I am pleased about something I thank and praise him and God. Don't underestimate the power of sustained and persistent prayer.
2. I step back and let him do it his way. It is possible, just possible, that I am a little bit of a control freak. So let's just say this doesn't come natural. I have all day with the kids and I have my own little way of doing things that I know works. When he does things differently it can be tempting to step in and offer instruction on how to do it PROPERLY (read: my way). But if I step back and shut up, it is amazing how his way usually works to.....sometimes even better.
3. I keep my mouth shut when he does make mistakes. Yes folks, he makes mistakes - rarely but he does. Sometimes when that happens it can be tempting to jump in and "fix" it while I shoot accusatory glares and snide comments in his direction. But let's face it, I make mistakes too! I try and remember to treat him the same way I want to be treated when I screw up.
4. I respect and draw on his opinion. If I am stumped with something with the kids, I ask him what he thinks I should do. It can be tempting to believe that because I have read more parenting books and I spend all day with the kids that he does not have anything to offer but it couldn't be further than the truth. He comes from a place of knowing me, knowing the kids and loving us all. He has a fresh perspective after being out of the house at work all day and he is clever too. Sometimes I have asked his advice then been tempted to ignore it because it didn't line up with what I thought. But then I put it into practise and lo and behold, it DOES work! Even just thrashing out an problem together helps us to be a team rather than two free agents.
5. I back him up. If we disagree on how to deal with a situation we talk about it quietly and away from the kids. As far as the kids are concerned we are a united front. The kids know they cannot play one against the other and they feel more secure because of it.
6. I celebrate who he is with the kids. Beloved likes cars. I don't drive. He likes 4 wheel driving, I like hiking. He has an eye for detail, I'm more of a big-picture-bang-it-together kinda gal. But when I talk to the kids I celebrate these aspects of who he is. I talk about how clever he is to put together the new transmission for the ute himself and how he saved us so much money. I talk about how Daddy worked so hard for months to finish off the boy's room. I excitedly look forward to our next 4wd trip. It would be easy to gripe in front of the kids about how long it took to get some of those jobs finished or moan about how I'd really rather walk a track than bump along in a car but by talking Daddy up in their eyes I am nurturing their relationship with him.
7. I structure our day to include him, even when he is gone. At meal times and worship times throughout the day we pray for him when he is gone. We plan little surprises for him. We have time planned after dinner for stories and worship that includes Daddy whenever he is home and once a week we have a special Sabbath dinner which I try and make an event to look forward to - so he is eager to be at home with us rather than doing a few more hours at work to escape from the chaos at home! Now, things will probably LOOK different at your house than they do at mine but the core principle is the same. Dad is a treasured member of our home even he isn't here.
8. I actively nurture my relationship with my Beloved. I know I am a better mother when Beloved is filling my love-tank so I do that for him. I know that two things make him happy - a decent meal and clean clothes. Seeing as I am the at-home member of our partnership, I try and make these a priority. When he walks through the door I try and take a moment to offer a coffee, hug and/or conversation. I try and make sure I am not too tired at the end of the day to make time for him. I try and get the kids to bed early on Thursday nights then make us a special "date night" meal. Again, this may look different in other people's homes and I don't necessarily get all these things done every day but the core principle is active nurturing of our relationship.
9. I don't compare. I have a friend whose husband gets up one morning on the weekends, organises the kids and brings her breakfast in bed. Sometimes on the weekend I get up, put on a DVD for the kids, sneak back into bed and we whisper sweet nothings for a while. A sleep in and breakfast in bed? Nice, but not nice enough to give up all the other wonderful things about my husband. If I were to compare and complain all it would serve to do is erode his confidence as husband and father. I prefer to build him up whenever possible.
10. Finally, if I do need to come to him with a concern, I do it prayerfully, privately and lovingly. I humbly try and remember all MY failings and shortcomings and try to speak in such a way that I build him up and help him rather than erode and tear him down. I try and look at my own failings first - remove the plank from my own eye so to speak and ask myself if it really IS important enough to make an issue of. Because I do this rarely and I do my best to do it with the same kindness and love I would want for me, he is usually quite open to listen and make changes if needs be.
So there it is, my top ten for my top bloke.
Love you honey!!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
mothering labels
How do you define yourself?
There are a million different ways people define themselves to others and to themselves. Profession, address, family, religion, education. All of these can play a part in defining us. In the realm of motherhood, it does not seem enough to define oneself simply as mother. Cute t-shirts with slogans such as "I get my milk from Mum - not just any old moo!" proclaim the proud Breastfeeding Mums. You can buy decals for your car to advertise that the travellers within enjoy a family bed - the Co-sleeping Mum. Ezzo Mothers press their copy of Babywise on you and sing the praises of routine. Attachment Mums adjust their sling and suggest routines starve children of love and affection. Homeschooling Mums speak about schools as state sanctioned child abuse while P&F Mums bake madly for the next bake sale to raise funds for the library and well up with tears as their child plays a tree in the school concert - thriving in the community of school. Don't even start on vaccination, circumcision, home birth and elective c-sections. The millitant on all sides sure that their way is the best way.
And then the battle lines start.
And that's where I START to have problems with the way we define, or label, our mothering.
Call me a little odd, but I feel that as mothers we need to be comrades rather than enemies. Honestly, the truest desire of each mother is to do the best she can for her child or children. Isn't it? Different education, cultural cues, histories, values, desires and personalities mean that how "doing the best we can" for our children looks is different for each of us. Yet our labels, our definitions, are so often a source of pain and distress. And they can also impair our ability to mother effectively.
Here are some of the problems that I have with parenting labels.
Reducing our parenting to labels, can reduce our parenting to formulas. When my friends who are first time parents call me for advice they often come away frustrated. They want an answer to a question like "How do I get my baby to sleep?". They want formulas. They want me to say "Do XYZ and your baby will sleep through the night in approximately one week". Here's the rub. I can't do that. I can say about a dozen different things that have worked but for me but I cannot garantee that any of them will work for that particular baby. Because babies aren't machines, they are people. Some brave people have put down what works for them in raising children into writing which has helped many, many people. However, almost invariably, their words hae been twisted, misinterpreted, abused and over simplified. At times, to disasterous effect. Children are people, not machines. Life is LIFE, not an exam where we get each answer right or wrong. There is no cheat sheet. Following the "rules" of a certain movement, childraising expert or parenting style will not ensure your mothering turns our right.
Which brings me to my second point.
Clinging on to labels can prevent us from clinging on to Jesus. We don't want to fail at this parenting caper. The stakes are too high. So that sentence I just said 'Following the "rules" of a certain movement, childraising expert or parenting style will not ensure your mothering turns our right.' is liable to scare the crappers out of us. The natural question that follows is what WILL ensure our mothering turns out right? Here's the really scary answer...Nothing. We can do everything right, we can raise our children in the way they should go, we can do every single thing in our power to lead them to Christ but the truth of the matter is our child's relationship with God is just that, THEIR relationship with God. Now I have about a million different things that I do in order to raise my children in a way that encourages them to know God and I strive to learn more of how I can raise them well but this knowledge that the decision to follow Christ is theirs and theirs alone drives me to my knees in prayer - which, as a mother, is exactly where I should be. Rather than totally relying on a label or movement or expert or ANYTHING, perhaps we need to rely on God alone. After that, take what's helpful and loose the rest.
Hiding behind labels can make us judge others. Through fear, we start to judge others. We see a child throwing a tantrum in the supermarket and think "Hmm, someone needs to set better limits/ensure their child gets more rest/cut down on their sugar intake/fill in other blank". A mother confides her exhaustion after a sleepless night and we think "well, if she would just co-sleep/control cry/get a better routine/fill in the other blank she would get more sleep". We hear about tragedy striking another family - a child making horrible choices, a child being diagnosed autistic, a child suffering abuse at the hands of a family friend. Nodding sagely we comfort ourselves that it could never happen in OUR home. That only happens to families who don't homeschool, who immunise, who allow others to babysit. Fear that what happened to them could happen to us drives us in to the shell of labels and formulas. Superiority replaces humility and compassion. There is nothing wrong with offering advice - especially if it is asked for. There is something wrong with thinking that we have all the answers. There is something wrong with sitting in judgement over hurting parents.
Being focussed on our labels and self-definitions rather than people can lessen our ability to minister to others. I have a friend who I have known for years. This good friend is passionate about her beliefs and convictions - which is one of the things I love about her. A while ago, this friend was convicted that circumcision of infant boys was wrong. Several times a week links to anti-circumcision articles and clips would appear on her Facebook feed. Almost every time I logged on, I would be confronted with lists of reasons why circumcision was wrong and links to graphic video of circumcision. Personally, my sons are not circumcised. We have many reasons for this, which I am happy to discuss with anyone interested, but it got to the point that I was frustrated and annoyed by the confronting nature of the links so I did what I suspect most people do in that type of situation - I hid her Facebook feed! The language used in many of these articles was accusitory and provocative and I, who shared the conviction, was completely turned off from any information they may have contained. Language which deliberately provokes or accuses will not help other parents learn anything useful from us. Language which supports, uplifts, empathises and encourages is the type of language which should be exchanged between mothers.
An "us and them" mentality can alienate others and limit us. If a course of action you have chosen as a parent is at all countercultural you probably have encountered criticism and opposition. One way people who have experienced this show support to one another is to band together. You can find a web forum or online support group for pretty much any choice you make as a parent. There are playgroups, clubs and organisations supporting every lifestyle and parenting choice out there. There is nothing wrong with this, until exclusionary or judgemental statements and jargon becomes a part of our every day vocabulary and all our friends look exactly like us in philosophy and practise.
Defining or labeling ourselves in a certain way can stop us from being flexable. I homeschool my children and I love it. It makes me happy, it works for our family and it is, at present, the best choice for our family. If, tomorrow, God tells me to put my kids in school - I will. And it will not change who I am as a mother. It will just give me less excuses to avoid housework! I believe the safest and best place for my family is where God wants us to be. I don't co-sleep with my kids other than in cases of illness or bad dreams. It simply doesn't work for me. I don't sleep well with babies or kids in my bed and my Beloved and I enjoy our quiet, personal time together kid free. However, if this changes one day, it will not rock my world as a mother. It will not change my definition of myself. Because while I am a mother who homeschools, I am not a Homeschooling Mum. I am a mother who chooses not to co-sleep, not an anti-co-sleeping Mum.
I have learned over the years that I only need one label, one definition, for my motherhood and myself, and it is Saved. And I think the sonner we learn that, the sooner we will be able to support each other as sisters in Christ rather than drawing battle lines on the playground.
There are a million different ways people define themselves to others and to themselves. Profession, address, family, religion, education. All of these can play a part in defining us. In the realm of motherhood, it does not seem enough to define oneself simply as mother. Cute t-shirts with slogans such as "I get my milk from Mum - not just any old moo!" proclaim the proud Breastfeeding Mums. You can buy decals for your car to advertise that the travellers within enjoy a family bed - the Co-sleeping Mum. Ezzo Mothers press their copy of Babywise on you and sing the praises of routine. Attachment Mums adjust their sling and suggest routines starve children of love and affection. Homeschooling Mums speak about schools as state sanctioned child abuse while P&F Mums bake madly for the next bake sale to raise funds for the library and well up with tears as their child plays a tree in the school concert - thriving in the community of school. Don't even start on vaccination, circumcision, home birth and elective c-sections. The millitant on all sides sure that their way is the best way.
And then the battle lines start.
And that's where I START to have problems with the way we define, or label, our mothering.
Call me a little odd, but I feel that as mothers we need to be comrades rather than enemies. Honestly, the truest desire of each mother is to do the best she can for her child or children. Isn't it? Different education, cultural cues, histories, values, desires and personalities mean that how "doing the best we can" for our children looks is different for each of us. Yet our labels, our definitions, are so often a source of pain and distress. And they can also impair our ability to mother effectively.
Here are some of the problems that I have with parenting labels.
Reducing our parenting to labels, can reduce our parenting to formulas. When my friends who are first time parents call me for advice they often come away frustrated. They want an answer to a question like "How do I get my baby to sleep?". They want formulas. They want me to say "Do XYZ and your baby will sleep through the night in approximately one week". Here's the rub. I can't do that. I can say about a dozen different things that have worked but for me but I cannot garantee that any of them will work for that particular baby. Because babies aren't machines, they are people. Some brave people have put down what works for them in raising children into writing which has helped many, many people. However, almost invariably, their words hae been twisted, misinterpreted, abused and over simplified. At times, to disasterous effect. Children are people, not machines. Life is LIFE, not an exam where we get each answer right or wrong. There is no cheat sheet. Following the "rules" of a certain movement, childraising expert or parenting style will not ensure your mothering turns our right.
Which brings me to my second point.
Clinging on to labels can prevent us from clinging on to Jesus. We don't want to fail at this parenting caper. The stakes are too high. So that sentence I just said 'Following the "rules" of a certain movement, childraising expert or parenting style will not ensure your mothering turns our right.' is liable to scare the crappers out of us. The natural question that follows is what WILL ensure our mothering turns out right? Here's the really scary answer...Nothing. We can do everything right, we can raise our children in the way they should go, we can do every single thing in our power to lead them to Christ but the truth of the matter is our child's relationship with God is just that, THEIR relationship with God. Now I have about a million different things that I do in order to raise my children in a way that encourages them to know God and I strive to learn more of how I can raise them well but this knowledge that the decision to follow Christ is theirs and theirs alone drives me to my knees in prayer - which, as a mother, is exactly where I should be. Rather than totally relying on a label or movement or expert or ANYTHING, perhaps we need to rely on God alone. After that, take what's helpful and loose the rest.
Hiding behind labels can make us judge others. Through fear, we start to judge others. We see a child throwing a tantrum in the supermarket and think "Hmm, someone needs to set better limits/ensure their child gets more rest/cut down on their sugar intake/fill in other blank". A mother confides her exhaustion after a sleepless night and we think "well, if she would just co-sleep/control cry/get a better routine/fill in the other blank she would get more sleep". We hear about tragedy striking another family - a child making horrible choices, a child being diagnosed autistic, a child suffering abuse at the hands of a family friend. Nodding sagely we comfort ourselves that it could never happen in OUR home. That only happens to families who don't homeschool, who immunise, who allow others to babysit. Fear that what happened to them could happen to us drives us in to the shell of labels and formulas. Superiority replaces humility and compassion. There is nothing wrong with offering advice - especially if it is asked for. There is something wrong with thinking that we have all the answers. There is something wrong with sitting in judgement over hurting parents.
Being focussed on our labels and self-definitions rather than people can lessen our ability to minister to others. I have a friend who I have known for years. This good friend is passionate about her beliefs and convictions - which is one of the things I love about her. A while ago, this friend was convicted that circumcision of infant boys was wrong. Several times a week links to anti-circumcision articles and clips would appear on her Facebook feed. Almost every time I logged on, I would be confronted with lists of reasons why circumcision was wrong and links to graphic video of circumcision. Personally, my sons are not circumcised. We have many reasons for this, which I am happy to discuss with anyone interested, but it got to the point that I was frustrated and annoyed by the confronting nature of the links so I did what I suspect most people do in that type of situation - I hid her Facebook feed! The language used in many of these articles was accusitory and provocative and I, who shared the conviction, was completely turned off from any information they may have contained. Language which deliberately provokes or accuses will not help other parents learn anything useful from us. Language which supports, uplifts, empathises and encourages is the type of language which should be exchanged between mothers.
An "us and them" mentality can alienate others and limit us. If a course of action you have chosen as a parent is at all countercultural you probably have encountered criticism and opposition. One way people who have experienced this show support to one another is to band together. You can find a web forum or online support group for pretty much any choice you make as a parent. There are playgroups, clubs and organisations supporting every lifestyle and parenting choice out there. There is nothing wrong with this, until exclusionary or judgemental statements and jargon becomes a part of our every day vocabulary and all our friends look exactly like us in philosophy and practise.
Defining or labeling ourselves in a certain way can stop us from being flexable. I homeschool my children and I love it. It makes me happy, it works for our family and it is, at present, the best choice for our family. If, tomorrow, God tells me to put my kids in school - I will. And it will not change who I am as a mother. It will just give me less excuses to avoid housework! I believe the safest and best place for my family is where God wants us to be. I don't co-sleep with my kids other than in cases of illness or bad dreams. It simply doesn't work for me. I don't sleep well with babies or kids in my bed and my Beloved and I enjoy our quiet, personal time together kid free. However, if this changes one day, it will not rock my world as a mother. It will not change my definition of myself. Because while I am a mother who homeschools, I am not a Homeschooling Mum. I am a mother who chooses not to co-sleep, not an anti-co-sleeping Mum.
I have learned over the years that I only need one label, one definition, for my motherhood and myself, and it is Saved. And I think the sonner we learn that, the sooner we will be able to support each other as sisters in Christ rather than drawing battle lines on the playground.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Mothers are not perfect, just blessed
So it is mother's day tomorrow and Hallmark is going crazy. At this time of year we start out with the flattery and idealised statements.
Statements like:
Mothers are the one person who can substitute for anyone but nobody can substitute for. I'm guessing I don't get an RDO then. Not only do I have to be Mum to my sons, I also have to be Dad, girlfriend, wife, child, grandparent - basically every significant relationship in their life as needed too. I DON'T THINK SO.
and:
God couldn't be everywhere, so He created mothers. So I need to be God now, no pressure there at all I am sure I can live up to that one. Excuse me while I go and rock in a corner and gag uncontrollably.
At times like these I remember that Anna Jarvis, the woman who initally campaigned to make Mother's Day a nationally recognised holiday in America, spent her family inheritance campaigning AGAINST what the holiday had become.
Now don't get me wrong, Mother's Day is an excellent opportunity to recognise and affirm mothers. The Bible often recommends affirming women verbally and publically. Proverbs 31, for example, asks that we "Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate." (verse 31) but the Bible also has a few words to say about flattery. If you flatter someone you "Lavish insincere praise and compliments upon (someone), esp. to further one's own interests" If my kids were to give me a card saying "To The Perfect Mother" I would accept it in the spirit intended of course, but I would also be thinking "suck up!". Because nobody knows better than them my imperfections as a mother.
The truth is, not one of my children will grow up without scars from what I did or did not do. Motherhood is a daily invitation to step up, be a better person, make good choices and grow and heal my own heart. And I don't always RSVP in the affirmative. I fail. I pray that when the appropriate day comes, I have the humility and compassion to be able to fully and completely apologise for my short comings and failures, of which I have many.
But the good news is: God CAN be everywhere.
He promised me once that nothing will happen to my children that He and they can't handle together. I am not everything to my children and I do not have to be. To tell me that I am is flattery and a curse.
For me, sincere praise must be true, specific and measured. "Mum you are the best cook in the whole wide world and everything you make is magic" vs. "Mum, thanks for putting the extra effort into that dinner tonight, I really liked the potatoes done that way." The first is flattery, the second makes sure those potatoes get cooked often and makes Mum real warm and squishy on the inside.
So tomorrow, if you are going to praise your Mum, please make it real. I would prefer my children recognise the real blood sweat and tears that I put into raising them than they go for the hallmark syrup.
Statements like:
Mothers are the one person who can substitute for anyone but nobody can substitute for. I'm guessing I don't get an RDO then. Not only do I have to be Mum to my sons, I also have to be Dad, girlfriend, wife, child, grandparent - basically every significant relationship in their life as needed too. I DON'T THINK SO.
and:
God couldn't be everywhere, so He created mothers. So I need to be God now, no pressure there at all I am sure I can live up to that one. Excuse me while I go and rock in a corner and gag uncontrollably.
At times like these I remember that Anna Jarvis, the woman who initally campaigned to make Mother's Day a nationally recognised holiday in America, spent her family inheritance campaigning AGAINST what the holiday had become.
Now don't get me wrong, Mother's Day is an excellent opportunity to recognise and affirm mothers. The Bible often recommends affirming women verbally and publically. Proverbs 31, for example, asks that we "Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate." (verse 31) but the Bible also has a few words to say about flattery. If you flatter someone you "Lavish insincere praise and compliments upon (someone), esp. to further one's own interests" If my kids were to give me a card saying "To The Perfect Mother" I would accept it in the spirit intended of course, but I would also be thinking "suck up!". Because nobody knows better than them my imperfections as a mother.
The truth is, not one of my children will grow up without scars from what I did or did not do. Motherhood is a daily invitation to step up, be a better person, make good choices and grow and heal my own heart. And I don't always RSVP in the affirmative. I fail. I pray that when the appropriate day comes, I have the humility and compassion to be able to fully and completely apologise for my short comings and failures, of which I have many.
But the good news is: God CAN be everywhere.
He promised me once that nothing will happen to my children that He and they can't handle together. I am not everything to my children and I do not have to be. To tell me that I am is flattery and a curse.
For me, sincere praise must be true, specific and measured. "Mum you are the best cook in the whole wide world and everything you make is magic" vs. "Mum, thanks for putting the extra effort into that dinner tonight, I really liked the potatoes done that way." The first is flattery, the second makes sure those potatoes get cooked often and makes Mum real warm and squishy on the inside.
So tomorrow, if you are going to praise your Mum, please make it real. I would prefer my children recognise the real blood sweat and tears that I put into raising them than they go for the hallmark syrup.
Monday, May 02, 2011
Some Arguments for an Elected Head of State Examined
I need to confess something. I am a royalist. Yes, I know, not a popular stance in this day and age but there you go. The debate has been revisited because of the Royal Wedding and some of the arguments put forward by those for a republic have amused and confused me somewhat.
* We need an elected head of state because the Royal Family is dysfunctional and full of scandal.
* Ummmmm, yes. Because there has never been an elected person who had a scandalous affair in the history of the world.
* We need an elected head of state because Prince Philip says racist, embarrassing and ill informed things sometimes.
* Yes, because there has never been an elected person who said stupid things (why do you think comedians all voted Bush in for a second term in the States?)
* We need an elected head of state because the Royal Family's role is largely ceremonial.
* And what, exactly, are you proposing an elected head of state does that is different to a largely ceremonial role? Come back to me on that one when you have a good answer.
* We need to have an elected head of state because the Royal Family costs us money.
* Yes, an elected head of state will work for free I'm sure. They will live in a housing commission house, drive a Ford Fiesta and never, ever need to travel internationally.
* We need an elected head of state because the Monarchy has done some dreadful things in the past.
* So has Parliament. White Australia Policy anyone? Stolen Generation? Vietnam? If we are going to get rid of the monarchy based on the choices of past Monarchs, we need to get rid of Parliament based on past Parliaments.
* We need an Australian head of state because the Royal Family are FOREIGNERS and do not reflect Australian Values.
* Perhaps instead of debating the Republic issue at this time, we need to put our time and energy into working out what those Australian Values are and exactly how Australians are going to behave toward foreigners. Seeing as there is a section of our society that can't seem to tell the difference between an Indian Student who brings thousands (collectively millions) to our economy and Osama Bin Ladin perhaps we need to be putting funds in to PAYING TEACHERS and BUYING MAPS FOR SCHOOLS rather than changing the head on our coins.
Do I believe that a Constitutional Monarchy is the BEST model for Australia? No, I do not. I do, however, believe that it is the best model that we have AT THIS TIME. And until we are moving toward a values rich, positive model that reflects an Australia that I can be proud of, I am not moving anywhere. The Republican Movement is all to quick to point out the problems with our current model but it is rare to see any solutions offered. Rather than running away I want to be, at the risk of sounding like a certain obnoxious red-head, moving forward. To an Australia I can be proud of.
Personally, I love and admire the Queen. I think she is a role model for women, leaders and Christians all over the world. She quietly worked with others to enable them to end apartheid in South Africa, something she gets very little credit for and expects no credit for. Her work in world politics goes largely unnoticed. She is like Dr. Who but in a nice frock with corgis. Prince Charles is highly underestimated and he works HARD to serve the people of the Commonwealth. He earned a great deal of respect from me when he and his current wife publicly repented of their sins before marrying. That could not have been easy. William seems to be shaping up to be quite a nice young man too. HOWEVER, rather than whose bottom is on the throne my concern is with the political model under which my country currently operates which I believe is one of the very best in the world. And although we benefit from a "good" monarch our laws largely protect us from a "bad" one. Perhaps one day our country will have grown up enough to stand on its own, but I believe that the massive issues we are currently facing (racism, our treatment of asylum seekers, the crisis within the Aboriginal population to name a few) show that we ARE NOT READY to formulate our own political system.
Perhaps one day we will be, but not yet.
* We need an elected head of state because the Royal Family is dysfunctional and full of scandal.
* Ummmmm, yes. Because there has never been an elected person who had a scandalous affair in the history of the world.
* We need an elected head of state because Prince Philip says racist, embarrassing and ill informed things sometimes.
* Yes, because there has never been an elected person who said stupid things (why do you think comedians all voted Bush in for a second term in the States?)
* We need an elected head of state because the Royal Family's role is largely ceremonial.
* And what, exactly, are you proposing an elected head of state does that is different to a largely ceremonial role? Come back to me on that one when you have a good answer.
* We need to have an elected head of state because the Royal Family costs us money.
* Yes, an elected head of state will work for free I'm sure. They will live in a housing commission house, drive a Ford Fiesta and never, ever need to travel internationally.
* We need an elected head of state because the Monarchy has done some dreadful things in the past.
* So has Parliament. White Australia Policy anyone? Stolen Generation? Vietnam? If we are going to get rid of the monarchy based on the choices of past Monarchs, we need to get rid of Parliament based on past Parliaments.
* We need an Australian head of state because the Royal Family are FOREIGNERS and do not reflect Australian Values.
* Perhaps instead of debating the Republic issue at this time, we need to put our time and energy into working out what those Australian Values are and exactly how Australians are going to behave toward foreigners. Seeing as there is a section of our society that can't seem to tell the difference between an Indian Student who brings thousands (collectively millions) to our economy and Osama Bin Ladin perhaps we need to be putting funds in to PAYING TEACHERS and BUYING MAPS FOR SCHOOLS rather than changing the head on our coins.
Do I believe that a Constitutional Monarchy is the BEST model for Australia? No, I do not. I do, however, believe that it is the best model that we have AT THIS TIME. And until we are moving toward a values rich, positive model that reflects an Australia that I can be proud of, I am not moving anywhere. The Republican Movement is all to quick to point out the problems with our current model but it is rare to see any solutions offered. Rather than running away I want to be, at the risk of sounding like a certain obnoxious red-head, moving forward. To an Australia I can be proud of.
Personally, I love and admire the Queen. I think she is a role model for women, leaders and Christians all over the world. She quietly worked with others to enable them to end apartheid in South Africa, something she gets very little credit for and expects no credit for. Her work in world politics goes largely unnoticed. She is like Dr. Who but in a nice frock with corgis. Prince Charles is highly underestimated and he works HARD to serve the people of the Commonwealth. He earned a great deal of respect from me when he and his current wife publicly repented of their sins before marrying. That could not have been easy. William seems to be shaping up to be quite a nice young man too. HOWEVER, rather than whose bottom is on the throne my concern is with the political model under which my country currently operates which I believe is one of the very best in the world. And although we benefit from a "good" monarch our laws largely protect us from a "bad" one. Perhaps one day our country will have grown up enough to stand on its own, but I believe that the massive issues we are currently facing (racism, our treatment of asylum seekers, the crisis within the Aboriginal population to name a few) show that we ARE NOT READY to formulate our own political system.
Perhaps one day we will be, but not yet.
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