And the good news is....

Good news. Fancy that. Sort of, in a backhanded way, with a sting.
I went to the dermatologist this morning, with the clearest, un stripey, unwelty, not a mark on me skin, it's almost laughable isn't it? The one day when I really wanted to be at my stripiest, nothing, not a mark. *sigh*
So in I went and young, sincere and most ernest learning doctor came to see me first, he has been reading all about skin and is keen to see my horrific case of urticaria, undetermined cause.
And as if my some miracle, before our very eyes.....STRIPES! WELTS! BUMPS AND ITCHY BITS. I am, if nothing else, a great floor show.
We chatted and watched and discussed and then he said that this is certainly NOT lupus, which is a very good thing but I cried, fat old desperate tears of frustration because oh dear this is so hard and I am so miserable because it isn't anything and yet my life, my miserable life is just dominated by this thing, this itching, ugly, exhausting thing and if I just had a name and a reason I could just say that I am this way because..........and I can't. I just have this miserable skin and it is ALL IN MY HEAD. That does not mean it isn't real and as far as wednesday and the tribunal goes, this is good because all those months ago, the powers that be decided that I am not depressed, not anxious and not depressed enough to warrant incapacity benefits, I can go out to work because I am FINE ! So, on wednesday I can go and see this whole panel of people and do a party trick, I can produce a pointy stick and write all over my forehead, arms, face and neck ( and even my backside should I be so moved) DISPROVE THIS SUCKERS!
I am depressed that being depressed can make so physically ill, which makes me more ill and more depressed.....I know that somehow I have to kick start my own recovery and I do not want to waste another day of my life with this misery, I think I could do it too if life didn't just keep swinging at me.
When I had finished with being looked at and drawn on ( with a stick...LOOK young learning doctor, see what happens when we draw with sticks on the back of a 45 year old woman with dermographic, something, something, urticaria!) I went to the maternity ward where Mel was waiting after spending the night, Jordan called at 11.30 to say that Mel was bleeding and HURRY. I hurried, she spent the night. After all the infections and what nots, Mels cervix is weak and she bled. All is well but there was to be an ultrasound, to make sure ( WHEEEEEEEEE!)
As we waited in the waiting room, the excitement was palpable, all 3 of us were giggly and guessing and saying how if this time, baby hid it's bits, we would be amused and take it on the chin and not sulk.
At last we went in ( with Mel having drunk 3 gallons of water, sugary lemonade and everything she could to make sure baby was AWAKE and MOVING and NOT SLEEPING DOWN IN THE PELVIS) ho hum, yes yes, head, marvellous, awww look, hair and little frowning brow.....yes, spine, heart tick tick, yes yes thigh bones. Pardon? Did they sex the baby last time? Why no, cord between legs, yes we DO want to know. Hold breath, strain forward, stare and then, she just said it, told us, in a dull flat voice as if ' milk 2 sugars' WHAT? What did you say? Do you have no idea that this is HUGE! How so you can mumble such breath taking and life changing news? All that wondering and waiting and guessing and then, we know. Like that. Milk and 2 sugars, next please. Well.
So we walked outside and talked about it and said how we knew and I didn't know and i was sure it wasn't and they were sure it was and OH MY GOODNESS...this is so exciting and now we know and we can buy things and plan things and remember that this is not my baby but just try and stop me being THIS excited about it!
I wish I could post the picture because it is the sweetest little face, with dear little nose and even visible hair. I took a picture of the one picture they got, with my phone and I have no way to get it from the phone to my laptop. I know that seeing that picture makes me long to see that little face for real and kiss it, a lot.

By the miracle of modern technology ( and leads suddenly remembered in pantry, of course)


So it is good news and I hope that tomorrow and then wednesday I can post more good news. We like good news...and baby boys.

Helen Highwater.

Nana's baby is back, did you see? I am slow when it comes to all this technical stuff and I would love to have a jazzy looking blog, I just don't get how to do it though. I can't understand that jargon and I'll be darned if I can work it out, all that stuff, what the blazes??
I sit here thinking that I am doing what they tell me to do and then I get all excited and hit PREVIEW....nothing, same as before unless it is all wrong, sometimes I hit preview and see such disaster I squeal and say " Ah...NO... what did I do.....where did ....Agh, quick, undo it.......phew" And then I tell myself that less is more and I should just stick with the minimalistic style, yes, let it be about the writing. So that's it, because I have no idea to put great pictures on and a jazzy title.
What would be a great title for my blog? I would love a great name.
The first one used to call me Helen Back , which I think is quite funny and actually it sort of says what my life has been like doesn't it? I feel like I really have been to Hell and Back. I am so glad I got to come back, I don't think I will go there again. Thankyou.
The other cool name would be Helen Highwater, because come Hell and high water I'm not giving in.
That post yesterday got me thinking about the person I'm not anymore. I kind of liked that person, though she had to grow up at some stage. If I were brave enough I would take some of the responsibility for many of Sophie's actions, the difference between us is that I used my fearless feistiness for the good. When I was righteously indignant about something I would go hell for leather to right the wrong. I didn't just fight for the sake of it. I have some unbelievable tales of extraordinary bursts of going to battle.
Like the time I was pregnant with Jordan, I was so sick, had the flu, had been in hospital for a few days with torn belly muscles having coughed so hard, for so long that I thought I was going to lose Jordan. At home finally, I was longing to sleep. The couple in the apartment below us, in an army camp in Germany, were a sad couple, he was a pig, she was a scared little thing a long way from home. He invited a group of soldier buddies back for a party, she was to be the slave for the night and serve them food and drinks but shut her mouth and stay out of the way.
Lovely.
She came to see us and we set up a plan, she was so afraid of him and just did not want to be the slave and have to put up with the humiliation he always put her through. She asked us to start calling at 10-11pm to ask him to stop making a noise, she thought he would listen to us, no way was she going to say stop to him.
Well, we did what she asked and she said that he had told her to tell us to F off, he'd instructed her to tell us to shut up. so we did, until after midnight when the yelling and screaming and cheering woke 20 month old Daniel up, that was enough for me. I called and she said that he wasn't listening and maybe Kevin should go and talk to him. Which he did. Within minutes there was much ado and turns out the bully had smashed a glass and gone after the first one. Uh Oh.
So, in my dressing gown, with red crusty nose and puffy eyes I ran down the concrete steps to the cellar where they party was being held. I saw, when I huffed and puffed my fat and expectant body down that many stairs, a circle of about 12 soldiers, surrounding 2 men fighting, bully on the floor trying to protect his cowardly head that my husband was punching, hard, he was holding prissy little scaredy cat bully down with one hand ( " OW OW OW! Sorry Brummie, sorry, OW OW OW Please stop...sorry!) and punching his head with the other hand ( fist)
The other men? standing like simpletons wringing their hands.
So, I stopped it, ran in and grabbed the first one by the hair, dragged him away and all the while was stating with great conviction ( and volume) that this was ridiculous and unacceptable and imploring spectators of military variety with supposed courage and strength, to LOOK YOU PATHETIC ARSEHOLES! Look at the PREGNANT WOMAN breaking up the fight!
suddenly, when big tough soldier was being held aloft by his pregnant wife, spectators sprang into action. They grabbed puny wife beating and bullying coward and held him, AHA! Thought pathetic one, am safe now so the very best thing I can do is to show bravado,
"Yeah! I'll 'ave you Brummie! Watch your back, I'll 'ave ya!"
Wrong move.
For some reason, that was the straw that broke the camels back, I was so incensed by this yellow bellied no-mark's, sudden and insincere bravery that I felt impelled to react.
"You'll WHAT? Not before I've had you snivelling twit!" ( except I didn't say twit, I said the word that is pretty much twit but so much more satisfying, yet nowhere near as ladylike)
And I hurled myself, in my husband's bathrobe ( because it had to be his, mine didn't exist and if it did it wouldn't have fit around my belly) in my bare feet, with my snotty red nose down those stairs and I went for him , fists flying and I called him every name in the book. I didn't reach him though because the first one had come out of his rage induced frenzy and had grabbed the back of his robe. I was halted, mid air and held there, with legs and fists flailing, my very best navvy swear words were dragged from the recesses of my proper mind and every one of them came spitting out at this man, whose name was Dean, I hate that name to this day, when I hear the name I feel my top lip curl and I drool because I am too ladylike to spit on the floor.
The night didn't end there. Coward was so angry at this wife that he beat his own door down and he took it out on her, the MPs came and still didn't take him away and he yelled up the stairway at me, used some choice words of his own, the first one flew down the stairs, punched the front door so hard it split and flew open, MPs posted outside got in and were chasing both men around the apartment like a badly filmed Benny Hill skit.
I saved the day twice in one evening.
I was a little shy the next day bit figured everyone else was so drunk it would have been forgotten. All was well until my friend, who was a barmaid in the Naafi came over and she asked what had happened.
I expressed my surprise that she knew anything had happened and being the good friend that she was, she told me that the whole camp knew, that I was a legend and several of the men who had been there had said things like " That brummie's a big lad, I wouldn't want to cross him, would you?"
To which another one had said " I'd rather have to face him than his missus any day!"
I swear to you that I never set foot on that base again, the whole time we lived in Germany, so ashamed and embarrassed was I.
So, I have a quick word to my son, Jordan, who said today that Mel is having an ultrasound on monday, that they are going to find out the sex and NOT TELL ANYONE EVEN ME. Listen up Jordan my son, I can break you boy, I made you and whilst I carried you, I made trained soldiers quake in their highly polished boots. Just try it. Don't mess with this Nana.

Twang.

That's my heart strings, we have a country and western fest going on right now with my heart strings being twanged to a fairly natty beat.
Sophie came today and she ate, slept and then she cooked US dinner, she babysat while H and I did what we had to do on a saturday afternoon.
When she has eaten dinner she asked me to drop her to the house she is staying in and then wait for her to get changed, then take her to work. She had helped us so I did that for her, it also means I get to see where she is sleeping this week.
TWANG! I drove up outside a regular house, but it was a family house, with lit up windows and clean cars outside, I could see into the sitting room and it was tidy and warm, with white net curtains at the window, she is safe this week. I can't tell you how that feels, although you can be sure I will try my hardest.
It feels like relief and guilt, it feels like happy and heartbroken.
Relief because, well she's safe and she is in a home that is good, that has parents and children, that has allowed her in and is wrapping its arms around her. Guilt because she can't be here. She will ( I can but hope) be a good girl there and help out, she will show respect and ( I hope) adhere to any rules that they put down. She is friends with the daughter and I hear that she is a good girl ( from other people) Stupid pride that has no place her, what must this girl's parents think of me, as a mother? How could I turn away my own child? I've been there and done that, then I got to see what those parents had been subjected to, I hope they never see what Sophie is capable of.
Happy because to be able to go to bed and sleep knowing that she is safe and warm is priceless. Heartbreaking because if only she could learn and grow up, she could have that here, with HER family.
Then we have Mel.
She is hospital with a UTI, so poorly and shaking, in pain and just miserable. I am so glad she is being so well looked after and I took Jordan to visit her during his break today, I stayed just a minute or two and then left to sit in the car and read while Jordan spent some time with her. I was so weepy as I left because this tiny little person is so precious to us all already that the thought of anything happening to him / her is unbearable. We have these babies and carry them, hardly giving a thought to the miracle that is happening, without any thought as to how we do it, we manage to grow these babies and give birth to string healthy little people. It is possible these days to save babies born as young as 24 weeks ( and Mel is just 24 weeks) with technology these tiniest of babies can survive but nothing does the job as well as a womb, as a mother just going about her business and keeping that baby inside.
The Drs have told Mel how serious this is, she really is quite sick and so far the anti biotics aren't helping her get better, she will be in hospital until as late as tuesday, she went in yesterday at 2pm. I am sure that all will be well, but so easily it could have been worse and even though we haven't met this little person yet, we don't know if it is a boy or a girl but it is as loved as it could possibly be.
( Who can help but wonder if they may do an ultrasound and see what that little stinker kept hidden last time?!)
The baby has a great heartbeat, is kicking and strong......Mel is having all the care she needs, all we can do is pray and hope and trust that all will be well.
I went to the shop at the hospital to buy a magazine and a drink for while I waited in the car and another lady and I stood side by side looking at the shelves and politely allowing each other space........only to hear "HELLO!" It was my sister! Ha, imagine that, she was there with her husband who had a painful foot, must call and see if he is better now, so funny that we had been standing next to each other all that time without realising it.
Oh, also, when I drove Sophie to get changed we had to drive past the old house, I collected our wheelie bin that we left behind and saw that the lights were on, so it looks like landlady has been there and left a hallway light on. I wonder what she thought as she walked through that spotless house? I wonder if maybe she has any heart ( and I think she must have as she showed a bit of it when she let us move into the barn) and I wonder if HER heart strings got a twang of conscience? Oh I hope so! I am giving her a week longer to send us some money and then I will write and ask her where she invested that money ( which is almost certainly nowhere!) I will suggest that we allow the investment compnay decide who should have that deposit money and failing that, the courts, I just hope that now she has been to the house and seen how we left it, she will have fleeting visit from the human kindness fairy and a smack around the head from the 'pay them their money you heartless old bag' pixies.
Meanwhile we are all continuing to enjoy our new home, I still paddle about in my bare feet and sighing with pleasure at the kitchen. I can't walk up the stairs without my heart saying a thankyou, I never walk into our room without being enveloped with a feeling of peace. Can't put a price on that can you?