The switching point.

Baby loss is a major turning point. But sometimes its just the little things that might barely be noticed.

One of those little things is hat my husband does around the house to help me. Let me say that I don't mean this to be a whingey post, but rather just factual. It is what it is. It always had the potential to become this, and just needed a catalyst.

My husband does little to help me around the house. You've read my IL whinges before. My MIL has no hobbies and her purpose in life is to care for her boys. She gets up with the birds, does several loads of washing a day, has the ironing board up before the sun has peeked over the flat and willingly cooks a different meal for everyone at the table. But she also demands no respect for it. My husband and his brother will never use manners with her, an speak gruffly and abruptly. She doesn't correct them but jumps to bid their demands.

When he and I met I demanded his place in the house be of more equality. I was working full time. Long hours. Driving for hours each day. He cooked a couple of times a week, an helped me wash the dishes. His job was to mop the floor. And he helped where I asked.

Not now.

I ask for assistance and get told that he will. Later or tomorrow I can ask again. And again. At some point of course it turns ugly. Because at what point does asking become nagging. And he knows too that at some point ill do it myself. I don't cut ally know how intentional that is. But I'm no longer up for the fight so I ask once or twice and then do it myself.

But it's not fair.

I've gone over and over it all in my head. I think the change happened when we lost Ciaran. Prior to tht I'd had work issues and finished abruptly on stress leave. After twenty years of working in a managerial position, long hours and lots of responsibility, I was lost. I felt guilty too. And I started to take the housewife duties on as my mother would. That I was the housewife and this was now my job.

Then Ciaran died, and the guilt deepened. But I also didnt have the strength to keep enforcing the rules. We were both in the deep throes of grief. Just trying to do our business.

Now? It's my husbands job to go to work each day. That's about it. Everything else belongs to me. And because its the way he was brought up, it's an Impossibility to change. I'm not saying its right. But I've had to learn to accept a certain amount of it.

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This week has been a full on week and my head space totally consumed. I've desperately been trying to get our taxes done and ready for the accountant. I'm talking about the 2011-2012 year! Yes, I'm behind, and my excuse is that moving twice in that year plus having a baby is enough to deal with. And now its the challenges of finding and sorting receipts with a toddler "helping". As well as finding the head space because its complicated.

It's my job, not Shane's. it's more my line of work. I'm the brains in the family he says. So I can't hand it over. But he doesn't under stand that I need him to take the toddler so I could get it done. He can't get his chores of feeding up his dogs etc with Toby, done. But the expectations of what super mummy can get done with Toby around are huge.

The other thing is that he is finally on my page about the low paying job he is in. We are skint. My "reserves" have all but been eaten away by IVF and the fact that I haven't returned to work since Toby was born. So we've made a plan to try to move closer to my family. It won't happen over night. The job opportunities are bigger there, and hopefully the chance to ear more reasonable money. But step one of the plan is to buy a new investment property, sell my existing one, and have a view to moving in ourselves in coming years. So he's all excited about viewing a house this weekend..... With no idea of the head work I've had to do! Not only did I put an extra dimension to getting the tax done, but I also had to speak with my own agent to get the sale ball rolling, negotiate times with the new agent, crunch numbers, speak to the bank and fill out a million enquiry forms with information still tightly packed in boxes. And it's all so borderline, it might never fly!!

In the middle of it I've had two vet trips (100km return each) plus an impromptu trip for new tyres tha according to my husband was urgent and couldn't wait another minute (300km return). Tonight we head south for the house appointment in the morning, and suddenly find out there's a big bike race in the area and all roads between my parents and the town we need to be are closed!! Nothing is simple. We will probably stay at my sisters instead... But I feel bad for that because they have no bathroom (only the ensuite) at the moment due to renovations, and my niece has to give us her bed for the night. Not to mention its not a visit - we will arrive late and leave early.

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So, amongst all of this, my house is bedlam and I am overwhelmed. I made a deal with my husband that I was taking a day to get the tyres, he was in charge of catchin up the dishes.....

So he did the plates that would fit in the rack instead. And got a new pan out to cook his dinner.

Helpful? Yes. But it wasn't the deal. Or my understanding of it. Laziness. And I can't be fooked with the fight, so he wins, and he'll continue to say I'm just grumpy all the time.

But last night I played on the Bra.xton Hicks. They're worse doing things like standing over a sink,me here my belly weight is forward. So, he told me not to worry about the dishes.... That he would do them when we get home on Saturday night.

Pfffft yeah.

But ill do them today. They're driving me nuts. He should have done them. If I left them till Saturday night, I know they won't get done until Monday. He'll be understandably tired. We have a busy day and 400km drive home. Sunday his excuse will be that he has too much to do outside, of his chores. Which is true, but hey.

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On several occasions I've canned the new house idea. But in truth, if we don't do it, if I don't make it happen, I'm cutting my own nose off to spite my face. I miss my family and closest friends. I look forward to having just that bit of support. A babysitter I can trust if I need one. Even jus for a mental health moment!!

I hope the sun shines on us.

Life is simply made up of...

.... Exclusive clubs and societies, I've decided. I was thinking that it applies to the "now" but when I look back, it always has been. It's just that those exclusive clubs weren't quite so exclusive.

I mean.... For a long time I was out of the "marriage" club. Everyone else had a husband or partner to take along to events, but I was the third wheel. Or if I asked someone to do something with me, they always had to refer to their husband before committing. It used to drive me round the twist but it was also a not so subtle reminder that I didn't have anyone who cared if I was hanging out with them.

But move on through all those clubs and into our current statuses. There's of course the 'dead baby' club. Well, if you're reading here, I most likely don't need to explain that one further. But my point being, until you're in the club you have no idea what it's like, or that its forever. None. No matter how much you try, or imagine. You won't get it, and hopefully never will. It's a good thing.

But then there's the 'rainbow baby' club. Not everyone gets granted access. So, again, not everyone gets it. I wish they did. Because its bloody hard work. I think so anyway.

Rainbow babies are splashed across my facebook page these days. Bloggers from "my own time". It's great, because we get each other. We understand that even though a rainbow brings so much healing, we still hurt and miss our babes that aren't with us. And we get that parenting a living child is darn hard work on so many levels. And also that we have an added level that tells us that anything that sounds like we're complaining (lack of sleep, children not eating, husbands not helping - so many things) will be deemed ungrateful.

And now there are more rainbows on their way. So it really reinforces te club - we grieved through the same period, our rainbows were born around the sae period, and now we are tackling a subsequent rainbow pregnancy whilst running after toddlers. Together.

But I'm so conscious of my friends who haven't been able to travel the higher road (yet). Sometimes I hope I've been blocked on fb, rather than cause hurt. I struggle with times where I don't want to post anything online for fear of rubbing noses in it. But still other times that say tat this is my life now. My entitlement to enjoy my son and my pregnancy. And on another level, if I ate a different look at it, my son iS my life. I don't have much more to talk about.

And yes, right now I'm refraining from littering facebook with my toilet training efforts. He is my world.

So there is no escape from clubs.