stunned

On Tuesday evening I nodded goodbye to Mad Secretary as she stomped off into the icy cold night, wrapped up warm from her sensible boots to a very dashing hat.

Yesterday JJ stopped by my office to say that Mad Secretary hadn't come in and wasn't picking up either of her phones.  We rang the agency (Mad Secretary is a temp) who hadn't heard from her and they tried ringing her ICE number to no avail.  JJ and I fretted for the rest of the day, with JJ intermittently trying Mad Secretary's phones.  We ran through possible scenarios: Mad Secretary went to visit her daughter in one of the Home Counties and got snowed in (best case), she slipped and fell on the ice on the way to work and was taken to her local A&E (JJ's worst case), she fell in the bath and broke her hip (my worst case - she is 71).

This morning the department PA came to my office and told me about the scenario we hadn't imagined.  That Mad Secretary had had a massive heart attack sometime either Tuesday night or Wednesday and had died instantly.  I know it's true.  We all know that it is true.  It's just impossible to believe.

Brrr and Grrr

It is quite fresh out here in England at the moment.  Today London, compared to the rest of the country, was a balmy 1 degree (Celcius) and by the time I had walked to the Lovely Therapist's office this evening I couldn't feel my feet.  It's cold for the time of year and it's cold for central London.  It is no kind of weather to be standing still outdoors.

I am labouring this point of how freaking cold it is so that I can share this story.  I got to the Georgian building which houses, among others, the Lovely Therapist's office and standing outside were a couple with a pair of not more than 2-month old twins.  Mum and Dad each had a baby in one of those B@byBjorn carriers and they were leaning against the railings chatting while Dad finished off a cigarette.  He threw away the stub just as I got to the steps and Mum pushed past me to get inside saying "got to get these mites in the warm".

I hated them both so much.

Anyway.  Today is World AIDS Day. 

m.i.a...

...my blogging and commenting mojo, that is.

I've been a bad blogger lately and a terrible commenter (although I do try to leave a pebble when I don't have words - thank you, Miss Ruby!).  Truth be told I seem to have misplaced my zest for life in general recently.  I hope I can get it back soon but in the meantime I'm still interested in what is going on in all your worlds :-)

the importance of names

I have been thinking about writing this post for weeks now but (for reasons I find very difficult to explain) I have felt shy of doing so.  But then I was encouraged by two awesome women (from here and here) so have found the courage.

Doing a very quick search on the world's premier online market place (UK site) I found that there are at least 1,265 books of baby names.  You can get books of "unusual" names, Armenian names, Gaelic names, saints' names.  You can get bumper books, little books, greatest books, modern books.  But mostly you get the idea -  the naming of children is a very important matter.

A and I never knew Starchild's gender but I believed at the time and later (when pregnant with Bean) was convinced that he was a boy.  So in our hearts we gave our son a name: Zachary Joseph MySurname.

We found out for sure that Bean was a girl only after she had died (we hadn't wanted to know at  my 12-week scan).  Her name is Matilda Tui MySurname.

We never got that far with our Little Stars so they will always have to remain nameless.

Zachary Joseph, Matilda Tui, Little Stars.  "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be."

in the paper today

From The Guardi@n today: The lonely pain of miscarriage.  A heartfelt and open story (though some of the comments are heartless and unthinking).

four candles

I think we all know that this ALI community we are part of is amazing.  I know that we all support and find support here.  I know that I have "met" some wonderful women and I know that I would not have made it through so much of these past 12 months without you all.

I know all of these things but I was still amazed and moved beyond words when I got an email to tell me about this.

These are for my babies.

Jenn - thank you.  It means more than I can say.

punched

This afternoon A was doing a back-up of all our photos and videos, clicking on the odd one now and then as he went.  Before I could stop him, he clicked open an untitled video he took of me in early April 2008 at the top of the Sk.y T0wer in Auckl@nd.  It's quite an ordinary video, I'm just walking on the glass floor and staring down.  But it's the commentary.  A is talking to Starchild-in-the-future, saying "there's mummy, isn't she pretty?"

It punched us both in the stomach.