Carrying Happy Zoosee

Sorry for throwing our pregnancy announcement out there and then saying nothing more.

And thank you too for all the well wishes and congratulations. Such love!

Hope II, Gustav Klimt, 1907-08.
Hope II, Gustav Klimt, 1907-08.

For a while there, I didn’t know how to tell you about my excitement-terror-grief  in any way that would make much sense. And as my thoughts overran my head, I  worried that the baby would know I was bongo and just ship out of here completely. I kept apologising to this baby, “These are your Mum’s fears honey, not yours.”  And I had some pretty unforgiving morning sickness. Which I suppose,  if you think holistically, probably makes a lot of sense.

So that was me. Christchurch. What a mess.

I had some counselling. And as this belly begins to grow, I am finding some peace. On Monday we will find out about this baby’s heart. It will be so good to get it behind us.  There is a slight increased chance of having a subsequent heart kid if you have had one already, but the increase is only slight.

I am trying to banish worry to the far corners of my world, but it is a persistent beast.

While I do hope for a healthy baby and a chance to experience motherhood a little more gently this time,  I don’t want to rely on this child to heal my own battle scars either.  Of course I want a gentle birth, to hold them in my arms, to bring them home after they are born. I think that would be marvellously healing for us all.  But at the same time this is a new person, with a new journey and this baby has no duty to address anything that has gone before them. It’s not fair to ask that of a baby. Or of myself.

Whatever and whoever Happy Zoosee chooses to be, will be.

I was listening to a talk recently, about the limited way in which we define things as “good” or “bad”, “right” or “wrong”, when actually there are many more notes than just two in this raucous symphony of life.  

And it made me reflect on Albie’s heart condition – on how the immediate response is to say it is a “bad” thing, and how I fear it for Happy Zoosee. But it is far more complex than that. Albie’s heart condition has brought a richness to our life – many, many things have changed in our family for the better. It is not simply a “bad” thing at all. Great good has come from it too. And when I think this, my fears for what will come next diminish.

Marcus reckons we’d be awesome at being heart parents second time round – “We’d be so quick at getting the NG tube down!” He says this in a excited tone, genuinely, genuinely excited.

He makes me laugh.

Whatever happens next, Happy Zoosee is a mighty good thing. We are lucky, lucky, lucky.

Thankfully the rabble in my head is quietening down.



  1. Oh my, I said/thought/felt all the same things, but overall had a peace with Emma before we knew she was technically and physically ‘ok’. I say/think/feel the same things about Henry’s heart and how ultimately it is a ‘good’. I would never wish it, but if I could do it all over again, I’d do it the same way, any different and we’d be different people. He got my priorities straight. Though its become disgustingly easy to slip into taking things for granted with my little song bird (Em). But she was healing, the whole experience was, not that it was expected or required. I wish the same for you. And I also said and felt the same way if fate were to give us a second heart babe, been there, done that, to a degree. At least we’d have some idea.
    I’ll keep you all in my thoughts and hope that come Monday, you can breathe a little easier. Also hoping your morning sickness wanes. That feeling is awful. Be good to momma Zoosee.

  2. oh the anatomy scan –
    thinking of you all today! (at least i think its today …)
    and, thanks for writing all this. especially the chords of life being so much more complex than “good” or “bad”.
    hooray for happy zoosee and her (or his) little gorgeous body

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