Metroman

I've been a little quiet of late and whilst I could bore you with all the details of how crazy and ridiculously busy my life has been lately, I'll instead just tell you that:

1. My husband is back home with Emily and I finally!
2. The shop has opened and so far so good with the need to already re-order stock as it's been so busy
3. My website for the shop is almost done
4. We've realised life is way too busy and we now have a gardener/handyman who can pick up the slack and do all the jobs we never have time to do (this is huge for us since we're scrooges when it comes to stuff like this).

So that stuff out of the way I can resume blogging as normal right? Well I thought I might cover off one other area. I have consistently referred to my husband as 'hubby' but it's never sat well with me. It's my choice to blog about my life but he deserves some privacy so whilst I need to call him something, I don't want to use his name.

Our friends have often referred to him affectionately as Metroman. This is because he takes pride in his appearance, often goes to spa's for waxing and treatments, uses a face moisturiser and dresses like one of those models in a Country Road catalogue. He loves his labels and probably stresses more about what he's going to wear than I do. It's not uncommon for me to hear him say "I've got no clothes", something you'd expect from me, not him.

But he's also incredibly manly, fixing our daughters broken bike on the weekend, installing shelves in my shop, changing the flat tyre on my car etc.

So Metroman is a fitting name to refer to my husband. I'm so lucky that we got a second chance and in talking to him about my blog and how it helped me through all those nights where I thought I'd go insane with loneliness and despair, he said he wants support me in all area's of my life, including the shop and the blog.

I'm working on a post about his illness and how everything turned around. I think it's important to tell the story as I fund it so hard not knowing anyone going through our situation and people should know there can be a happy ending.

We're still working on ours and it's still one day at a time but every moment that passes and every day we get through gives us hope for a bright and happy future together.

Finally! Answers!

I haven't been able to blog for the last week and a bit. It's been both due to time and just because I haven't been able to put the last week or two's events into words until now. 

Oh where to start.....

Petit Armoir is finally up and running. Not everything got done on time such as the website, wallpapering the back wall, some stock hasn't arrived yet and not everything was put into the computer by opening. But I still managed to pull off a huge grand opening and even though I was meant to close at 2pm, people were still trying to get in at 2:30pm and I didn't get out the door till well after 3pm. 

All of this was achieved despite massive personal challenges over the last 2 weeks. For anyone who's ever been married to or lived with someone suffering from anxiety and/or depression, you know what a roller coaster it can be. Every day you wonder what mood the person you love will be in. Will he be happy? Will he be sad? Will he be angry? It's been the most difficult two years of my life and over the last week it all came to a head. 

I won't go into too much detail but finally there is a sense of relief. Rock bottom was finally hit and although it's not how both he and I would like the diagnosis and realization that there was something wrong to have happened, we're both glad it did. I nearly lost him, but with some help from a wonderful medical team and friends and family, we now have a diagnosis, a treatment and a plan. There's more hope than there has ever been. 

It's no surprise that this week I feel completely flat. I've been running on pure adrenalin for so long now that it seems even though all the drama has stopped, my brain can't quite slow down. I'm craving silence. Even the tapping of the keyboard drives me crazy. It will pass. It's the waiting I hate. Time heals and all that. 

Emily is of course over the moon. She's settling more easily and happier to go to childcare knowing she has both Mummy and Daddy home. 

So a new beginning and a bright future is in store. I'm determined to quieten my mind this week and stay focused on what's important. My family. 

Derailed

I knew it would happen sooner or later. After the last couple of weeks, and the roller coaster that I've been on, I knew I would have to crash sometime.

This morning was the first time in years that I haven't wanted to get out of bed. I'm tired but I can't sleep. I'm shaky and teary and it feels bloody awful.

I've tried to concentrate on work today but I can't seem to still my mind. Too many thoughts are racing around. I'm thinking about Emily and how she's doing, my plans for the shop, whether I'll ever sort things out with my husband, will he ever feel better, will I ever forgive him, can I do the next market, will I be able to hold it all together?

It's all too much. I need to be still. I need to just be for a bit. I need the mundane, the boring, the norm, just for a little while.

I probably need some extensive therapy but a single Mums pension doesn't allow for that. Instead I have wonderful friends and family who come to see me, send me text messages and call me on a daily basis to make sure I am OK. They offer support, advice when i want it and today a thoughtful friend convinced me to close the shop for an hour, take some time out and enjoy some lunch together. Just two girls, some good food and a glass of wine. Just what the doctor ordered.....

Moving

Wholly crap what a week! 


I have been struggling to come to terms with what's been happening and I've been going insane not being able to blog because we moved house on the weekend and there is still no internet connection. 


I'm taking five minutes out today to write something because I just need to get some shit out. 


So we moved on the weekend. It was sad and I didn't want to do it. People keep asking how's the new place and am I happy. the answer is no, I'm not happy. I want my almost perfect life back. I had a wonderful husband and a fantastic big dreamy house with enough room that I could have my own sewing/creative room and Emily had a big back yard to play in. Now it's just me and her in a little 2 bedroom unit and I'm doing everything on my own. 


Well not entirely on my own. My Uncle John drove an hour and a half from his place to help me and Dad load furniture all day Saturday. Mum looked after Emily all weekend and has been there every time I've needed a shoulder to cry on or to help me tackle the groceries with a toddler. My family has been fabulous. 


It's night time that's the worst. I'm lonely, I'm bored. No internet means I can't just blog away because tackling that keyboard on the iPhone does my head in. I've sent the iPhone battery dead every night this week reading my favourite blogs and wishing I could comment on the posts. 


I get random text messages from him asking about irrelevant things like what did Emily eat for dinner and why did I change our marital status on Facebook? He's stressing over the little things again and I've had to tell him to give me space. 


My emotions are all over the place. I'm angry, I'm confused, I'm disappointed, I'm revealed that he's finally admitted to having a problem, I'm hopeful of a resolution and a reunion. 


I'm grateful to all my wonderful friends who near and far have been a great support. One friend sent me this today and it was just so true I had to share it with you. 

I think I'm definitely in the one week later stage. Lets hope I look like the girl with arms outstretched months later. I think if nothing else this picture shows how resilient women are. We can do anything and we can also be a great support to each other. 

A Little Bit Angry

I haven't written for a while. Life is pretty shit around here at the moment. As of Saturday I'll officially be a single Mum on a bloody pension due to the shop not drawing a wage anymore and my husband telling me almost two weeks ago that he "just can't do it anymore".

It's not fair. This wasn't in my life plan and I certainly didn't ask for it. Humiliation has been the overriding emotion this week. Having to line up at Centrelink and receive phone calls from the Department of Human Services who ask all sorts of lovely personal questions about sleeping arrangements, bathroom times and sexual activity so they can determine that I am now "un-partnered" but still living under the same roof. This is all so I can claim some measly amount that will pay the rent each fortnight but not the bills or groceries.

Yep! I've reached the angry stage. I no longer care that he has anxiety, that he's depressed. I'm sick of the "woe is me" and the constant complaining about how terrible his life is. I want to strangle him. I want to tell him "mate you don't know how great you have it!" I want to scream at him that he's giving up a life that lots of people could only dream of having.

Today a customer came in to buy his almost two year old girl a pair of shoes. He was a bus driver doing a charter from Melbourne to Sydney and stops over for a hour in Albury for a break every two days. While checking out the various styles he realised he couldn't remember the size and had to ring his Mum to ask her what to get his daughter. So I asked him if he was a single Dad and he told me his ex-wife ran off with an 18 year old boy and he was left to raise his daughter on his own. He drives a bus 10 hours a day which he hates but it makes good money and it's all the work he could get since he lives in a country town.

This is where I sit back and say "you could of had a life like that". You could have been married to an alcoholic who goes out partying every night and runs off with someone half her age. Instead my hubby has dinner on the table every night, a daughter who loves him, a clean house, an awesome job doing something he loves and getting paid well for it, good health and a wife who loves him and would stand by him always. But apparently that's all too hard for him.

Anyone who knows someone suffering from anxiety and depression knows that they can be volatile and difficult to read human beings. It's like playing pass the parcel all day everyday and you never know if when you finally remove that last layer if your going to get something good or are you going to get an explosion.

The last couple of years have been hard. I never know what mood he'll wake up in or what I'll come home to after work. He escapes reality by sitting on his computer all night. I think he's always found life difficult but now it's become way too hard and he can't take it anymore. Still, I'm angry. I want to shout "suck it up princess!" but I can't.

There are lot's of "if only's" at the moment. It's hard not to think that way.

Makin' Lemonade

Last night and this morning I was pretty disillusioned about my life. How did everything turn upside down so quickly? What did I do wrong? How am I going to fix something I have no control over?

This afternoon I decided fuck it! If I can't do anything about it I might as well get on with things. Everything might work out and that would be great, things might not and if that happens I know I'll survive. It will be hard and I'll have a lot of sorting out to do but I'll be OK.

One thing is still certain. I have a daughter to raise and a business to run.

While we were on holidays the shop was pretty slow. And with little money coming in and lots of bills to pay I really have to pull my finger out this week and get some extra sales through the door.

I've come up with a plan. I have a small amount of summer stock that I need to move so I thought I'd start with that. It's currently sitting on a 50% off rack but being so cold it's not moving. So I've decided to have a Facebook sale. It's a Market Night where my customers can purchase excess summer stock at below cost price in a one off offer. If you want to check it out you can go to my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Bearly-Worn/123812704350325 .

The second part of my plan is to win some free advertising for the shop. Tiny & little are having a competition to win a full free page ad in their Winter 2012 issue out June 1st. All I have to do is receive the most votes and my little shop Bearly Worn wins! So I've asked all my FB fans to go there and vote. If you feel inclined (this is a bit cheeky) I would also love your vote. Just got to tiny & little and type "I vote for @bearly worn" so that the shops page is tagged and the vote gets counted.

Hopefully this gives me something else to concentrate apart from my personal problems and makes me a little money just in case.

A Really Shitty Night

What do you do when your pleasant life starts to fall apart?

Tonight I came home from work and my lovely world was rocked to the core. I can't say how as I don't know if it's a permanent or temporary situation and I have to consider that family members may read this.

More so I just can't sleep right now as I have too many thoughts going through my head. How will I get over this? How will I forgive? Will life ever be the same? How will I protect my daughter? How will I survive?

I've never been good with bad news. I'm the type of person who has to talk through their problems in order to accept the outcome and right now there is no one to talk to. Right now I'm sitting alone in my lounge room wondering what I'm going to do.

The only positive I'm holding onto is that the news is only a maybe and hopefully not a definite. there is a glimmer of hope that it will never happen if some steps, difficult steps, are taken and issues worked through.

I have no idea if anyone actually reads this but I do feel like I've just been able to share my woes with a friend, even if that friend is just my laptop. For that I'm grateful.

All My Friends are Having Baby's.....Wah!

All my friends are having baby's..........Wah!

Miss E is 20 months tomorrow. She's been sleeping well for the last week (that means 7ish pm to 5is am) and that means I'm forgetting the hard bits of the first year and remembering how gorgeous Miss E was and how precious she was when she was just born.

It's not helping me that I own a baby and kids clothing boutique. Every day I see newborns and baby's, pregnant women and gushing first time grandmothers telling me their daughter has just fallen pregnant and they just want to have a look. It doesn't help that every day I unpack, price and display beautiful, gorgeous, exquisite baby clothing and accessories that I wish I had someone to put them in. It seriously doesn't help that my Hubby is dead against having another baby.

For as long as I can remember I wanted kids. I always thought I'd be a young Mum with three kids by the time I was thirty. I didn't get married till I was 27 and by the time I was 30 we'd already done two years of IVF and I'd suffered a miscarriage on the one time we'd managed to get pregnant. By the age of 32 my ex-husband and I had spent over $20,000 on IVF, survived two miscarriages and then he ran off with another woman. Miscarriage, grief and money problems do terrible things to a man and although I'm not excusing what he did, I no longer hold bad feelings for him.

I met my now husband a year after I separated from my ex. He was here on holidays from Ireland and the attraction was instant for both of us (although he'll say he just liked my car). He had come out of a relationship 5 years earlier and he had two kids back in Ireland that he hardly saw (fathers don't have the same rights there as they do here). It was complicated and difficult but we were so in love. He was done having kids and I thought I wasn't capable of going full term so in a way I thought a man with existing children could somehow fill a void.

We married 6 months after we met. Admittedly he never asked me to marry him, we both wouldn't have gotten married at all if we didn't have to. It was the only way to stay together and I guess that was the most important thing, we wanted to be together.

Three months after we got married I fell pregnant. It wasn't exactly planned, we just didn't take any precautions and left it up to the Gods. I remember seeing those two pink lines on the stick and I began shaking thinking this can't be true. I remember telling hubby when he got home from work and seeing both fear and excitement on his face.

I understand his fear. He has two beautiful children that he's been forced to let go of on the opposite side of the world and the fear of having another child and the relationship failing was almost too much to bare.

The pregnancy was awful to say the least. Within weeks of finding out I was pregnant the morning noon and night sickness began. I remember getting up at 3am for a boak and in the first trimester I lost 7kg.

At 32 weeks and 3 days after my baby shower I went into pre-term labour. It was one of the most scariest nights of my life. I was lucky enough to not have dilated at all and that basically kept baby in place. Lots of drugs and relaxation meant the labour stopped but I was kept in hospital until I reached 36 weeks. My blood pressure was dangerously low and i have a heart condition so I was constantly monitored. I had to beg the doctor at 34 weeks just to be allowed to have a walk around the hall of the maternity ward.

At 36 weeks I was finally allowed out of hospital and we had to move house (yes you read that right). It's a long story but basically our landlords decided to move back into their house right when we were due to have our baby. Anyway 3 days after we moved I went into labour. Off to the hospital we went on June 29th and I thought for sure this was it.

30 hours of labour later and I was only half a centimetre dilated. The fetal heart rate was dropping and she'd done her meconium and was in distress. The decision was made to do and emergency C-Section.

15 Minutes later and I was on the operating table. They pulled her out of me and there was no crying, no noise and everyone all of a sudden got very busy. I was told i had a girl. They rushed her to a table nearby and I remember seeing a blur of doctors and nurses around her. I told Hubby to stay with her no matter what, don't worry about me, just don't leave her alone. He watched on as they tried to breath life into this limp blue baby.

It seemed like and eternity waiting for something. I didn't even realise I was hemorrhaging and they were trying to fix me at the same time. Finally I heard a whimper, not a good cry but she was alive and breathing. They brought her to me for a few seconds to see, she looked like she was sleeping. But she was alive and we did it. We got through the pregnancy and the birth.

I went to recovery after they put me back together, but then I was sick, kept fainting and bleeding and so it was about five hours before they took me to Newborn Care and I finally got to meet my Emily.

Looking back it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to face. There are tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat as I type this because one, I know I'll never have to go through it again, and two, because I know I never could.

Six years ago I prayed. I said "if your there God, please just one, give me just one baby and I'll never ask for another". I don't know if "God" is real but I do know that I am blessed to have my one and only little girl.

The Other Irishman

I think the movie PS I Love You has ruined it for all Irishmen. I should know. I'm married to one!

Now when I say ruined it here's what I mean. You've watched the movie right? Gerard Butler....mmmmm......that accent and that cheeky smile.........ooooooooohhhhhhhhh.

When I tell women my husband is Irish they croon "Oh I love Gerard Butler in that movie" or "he could read the phone book to me all day". Well I've got news for you.

1. Gerard Butler is not Irish

2. Not all Irishmen have that cute 'hey diddly dee' accent, some are actually from the North and their accents are vastly different (but mostly still cute although hardly represented in the movies)

3. My husband downright refuses to put on suspenders and shamrock printed boxers and give me a strip tease



In saying all that I will agree that most men I've met from Ireland have a wicked sense of humour, a certain amount of charm, and no matter how repugnant they might be they all have gorgeous eyes.

My Irishman is.....challenging. He makes me laugh, he infuriates me, he turns me on, he turns me off (usually when he farts in bed), he keeps me guessing and I love him. I knew I would love him the moment we met. He shook my hand and something instant happened. Something burned inside me that made me want to be with him every moment I could spare.

It's coming up to Valentines Day but we're on a budget to save for our big trip to Ireland in April. So here's my challenge. Get my husband (who will be returning from a long business trip that night) a Valentines present that I have either made or bought cheaply and keep in mind that I want it to rock his world.

Any ideas??