Japan

Japan

 

 

I could not wait to leave NZ. It felt as if NZ was part of a bad dream that we were gonna wake up from the moment our plane takes of , I was counting minutes after Mr.B’s surgery as he could not fly for one week. I was nervous, unconcentrated, desperate, confused, edgy, irritated and sorry. I was sorry for Leo with whom I could not be as patient as I wished to be and to whom I had almost none energy to offer for careless running around and playing, I was sorry for Mr.B who has been working his ass of to pay for this dream trip and now everything was just so fucked up, we had to pay extra money to rebook flights, pay for extra nights in Auckland, pay fees for changing bookings in Japan as our trip there was shortened and all that in a burial mood. Where was all the happiness, showers of joy and laughter that we have pictured. I could see how depressed he was getting day by day and how angry he was at himself for not being able to get his bad mood under control which in the end resulted in our fights. We were fighting like rabid dogs, our nerves were irritated to such point that every little change of the mood of one of us caused an unmanageable explosion of anger of the other and although we have tried to discuss it in the moments of delicate peace, comprehending how important it is that we stand side by side now and support each other it did not help any and even these discussion ended /in a better scenario/ in a bitter cold silence. I was sorry for the little baby that grew inside of me, I was sorry that I could not develop all the feelings it deserved form its mother, I was sorry for myself to have to go through this and not be able to fully enjoy the pregnancy which sure is the last one in my life.
I was sorry and pissed and angry and sad and all that was nothing compared to the constant vomitting and pain of my stomach. We made an appointment in the Mother’s clinic in Tokyo to do some additional tests after our arrival and I could not wait. I could not wait for someone to tell me that it was all just a misunderstanding,but at the same time I feared that moment as hell, because it might have just as well all continued in a wrong direction and I was not sure how we gonna cope with that.
I had an online conversation about our issue from Auckland and was advised to undergo CVS (Chorionic Villus Sampling) due to the high NT measurement that our baby had. Which I decided to decline and go for one more ultrasound scan and some blood tests at first although the lady in NZ told me that blood tests make no sense because the results are gonna be bad for sure.
After we arrived to Japan and changed all our travel plans according to the scheduled procedures in the clinic, we had two more days in a strange agony to wait for my appointment. Two days that passed by in such a stress that they are now covered in heavy fog in my memory.

Then the day came. The ultrasound screening I had was I swear the longest and most terrifying 15 minutes as far as I can remember. Lady who was doing the scan could not speak any english. Tears were running down my face during the whole time, I kept asking OK? OK? and she just strangely nodded her head and made a sound which I could not translate as positive or negative reaction. Well I for sure learned the hard way what the fuck it means to be lost in translation.
I had to wait for the doctor to come and have a look at scan results and I was uncontrollably shaking and crying. That was apparently way to emotional for the poor lady and it made her feel uncomfortable, she did not know how to act in such situation and I could see that she just wished to be teleported to a different room, to a normal japanesse patient who could keep it together better than me. And for the first time I did not give a shit. All my life I constantly worried about how my behaviour influences other people’s feelings, if I don ’t make them feel bad by doing something wrong, and this time I could see this poor lady suffer as if she was locked in the pressure cabin and I did not give a shit that I am actually the one who is causing her such problem. I did not care because I was not in charge of my body reaction to that stress, and I was really pissed that she works in an international clinic and can’t say a fucking word in english to make me feel better. After the battle that both of us had to fight for minutes that felt like hours doctor came in, he looked veeeery carefully on the results, did some more scans by himself again while talking japanesse with the poor lady and looking at me with a look that did not say anything and I was ready to kill. The short movie that scrolled in front of my eyes of how I simply cold blooded kill them all helped me remain within the frame of sanity and calm down until I was finally told that the NT measurement is not as high as they measured in NZ, it was at the highest from what is considered to be the normal range. 3,4 mm he said. It is not good but not bad. Well whatever that means. So should I be happy now? Or not yet? Is this satisfying? What the hell means the measurement that was done in NZ than? What should I think of it? What is next? I had so many questions but the conversation possibilities were very limited and I had to do with the fact that it is not tragic and now we have to wait for blood results. Arigato, arigato, bow to the floor and bye bye.
I thought I should feel relieved, and maybe I even did slightly, but definitely not as much as I hoped I would.
Mr.B is a positive thinker, so he took on the HELL IT IS ALL GOOD option, but I am the one who is always scared and I could not share his excitement. There was still a lot ahead of us, at least two different blood test, maybe amniocentesis, very specific baby’s heart scans at different stages of pregnancy and who knows what else. I looked in front of me and all I could see was months and months of unsureness, one test after another, because for each type of the test the baby has to have certain gestational age and time spent waiting for results between the tests.I knew that I will be revealed from this torture only after the baby is born. That was my reality now.
We were in Japan exactly 3 years ago. I did a pregnancy test in Beppu on 14.2.2013 and the test was positive, we were in Japan not just the two of, it was three of us already. Leo was on his way. And it was as abstract as it could be, for me, for us at that time.
Three years later, 2016, we were in Japan again. Those three years in between I could not wait, I could not wait to be back. Japan was my absolutely strongest travel experience. It was so different from anything I knew before. It was overwhelming, intriguing, shocking, inspiring, visually unique and so strong. For 3 years I had constant flash backs from Japan, the smell of air, the light, touch of cold on my skin or just a short second of undefinable taste of the moment and I was back there. I wished to be back there, because in Japan I felt everything so intensely. My senses were facing a challenge all at the same time and it felt so good.
So here we are again, three of us in Japan, Leo is walking talking person who is fun to be around, who is tough to be around, who is fun to discover the world with and who is exhausting to travel with at the same time, but who is an essential part of our lives. The little guy who was just a two blue lines on a piece of plastic 3 years ago is now so profoundly part of me that I cant recall the feeling of life before him. And this time around we are four.
Another life that I have brought inside of my body, another life that is two blue lines on a piece of plastic and loads of pages of ultrasound scans. Life that is a mystery for us, not because we don’t know how it feels to parent a tiny human but because this human is a surprise on a completely new level.
I try to get hold of things again as we walk in temporary calmness around a lake in Kawaguchiko. I am pushing myself into living the moment, into letting fear go and enjoying what we have and what we are given. Tests are OK, the risk of chromosomal abnormalities is quite low, but now low enough to be completely sure of course. The curse of ambiguousness is now the new reality. Another test is ahead of us in Poland, but for now this should be enough. Enough to hold Little L tight in my arms before he runs wild to imaginary fishing duties, enough to let Mr.B hold me in his arms and let myself feel the love I have for him, hidden somewhere deep under the load of sour leftovers from our recent fights, and enough for me to finally touch my belly that is not anymore only mine and let myself feel happiness for the growing missing puzzle of our family that is on its way.Healthy or not, we shall see.


Nie mogłam się doczekać, kiedy w końcu wyjedziemy z Nowej Zelandii. Czułam, jakby wszystko, co się tam wydarzyło, było jednym wielkim koszmarem, z którego wybudzę się jak tylko wsiądziemy do samolotu. Liczyłam minuty od operacji Pana B, który nie mógł podróżować przez tydzień. Byłam zdenerwowana, rozkojarzona, zdesperowana, zdezorientowana, drażliwa, poirytowana i rozżalona. Było mi żal Leo, dla którego nie miałam wystarczająco dużo cierpliwości i siły, żeby się bawić i biegać beztrosko. Było mi żal Pana B., który harował, jak wół, żeby zapłacić za tę podróż marzeń, a teraz wszystko tak się popieprzyło, że musieliśmy dopłacić za przebukowanie lotu, zapłacić za nocleg w Auckland, pokryć dodatkowe opłaty za zmianę rezerwacji w Japonii, gdzie nasz pobyt będzie krótszy, niż planowaliśmy, a wszystko to w żałobnym nastroju. Gdzie się podziało całe szczęście, chwile radości i śmiechu, które sobie wyobrażaliśmy. Widziałam jak z dnia na dzień robił się coraz bardziej przygnębiony i jak bardzo był zły na siebie, że nie mógł opanować swoich uczuć, co z kolei, zawsze kończyło się na kłótni. Walczyliśmy ze sobą jak wściekłe psy, byliśmy tak poirytowani, że każda najmniejsza huśtawka nastroju u jednego z nas powodowała wybuch złości u drugiego i, mimo iż w kruchych momentach spokoju próbowaliśmy o tym rozmawiać, a każde z nas rozumiało jak ważne jest, żebyśmy stali za sobą murem i wspierali się, nic to nie pomagało, a nawet te rozmowy /w najlepszym wypadku/ kończyły się w atmosferze lodowatego milczenia. Było mi żal za to dziecko, które rosło we mnie i żałowałam, że nie umiałam obdarzyć go wszystkimi uczuciami, na które zasługiwało od swojej mamy. Było mi żal za samą siebie, że musiałam przez to przechodzić, zamiast cieszyć się ciążą, która na pewno jest ostatnią w moim życiu. Byłam rozżalona, wkurwiona i zła i smutna i to wszystko, to nic w porównaniu z ciągłymi wymiotami i bólem brzucha. Kiedy przyjechaliśmy do Japonii, zapisaliśmy się na dodatkowe badania w klinice położniczej, w Tokyo i nie mogłam się doczekać. Nie mogłam się doczekać, aż ktoś mi powie, że to wszystko, to tylko nieporozumeinie, ale jednocześnie bałam się tej wizyty jak cholera, bo wszystko mogło potoczyć się w złym kierunku i nie wiedziałam, czy sobie z tym poradzimy. Odbyłam rozmowę z lekarzem przez internet i poradzono mi, żebym poddała się biopsji kosmówki, ponieważ badania wykazały, że nasze dziecko ma duże stężenie NT. Odmówiłam i postanowiłam, że zrobię jeszcze jedno badanie ultradźwiękowe i badanie krwi, ale lekarz w Nowej Zelandii powiedział mi, że badanie krwi nie ma sensu, bo wyniki na pewno będą złe. Kiedy przyjechaliśmy do Japonii i zmieniliśmy wszystkie plany podróży, z powodu umówionej wizyty w klinice, miały minąć jeszcze dwa dni agonii w oczekiwaniu na wyznaczony dzień. Dwa dni, które minęły w tak ogromnym stresie, że kiedy teraz o nich myślę, widze tylko gęstą mgłę. I w końcu nadszedł sądny dzień. Przysięgam, że tamto badanie ultradźwiekięm, to było njabardziej przerażające 15 minut w moim życiu. Pani, która je robiła nie mówiła ani słowa po angielsku. Przez cały czas po policzkach spływały mi łzy i ciągle pytałam OK? OK?, a ona tylko dziwnie kiwała głową i wydawała z siebie dźwięk, którego nie mogłam roszyfrować. Na własnej skórze przekonałam się co, do cholery, oznacza być zagubionym w tłumaczeniu. Cała w spazmach, czekałam na lekarza, aż spojrzy na wyniki badań. Ta sytuacja była ewidentie zbyt pełna emocji dla tej biednej kobiety, która czuła się niezręcznie, nie wiedziała jak się zachować i pewnie pragnęła tylko, żeby teleportowali ją do jakiegoś innego pokoju, gdzie normalna, japońska pacjentka umie zachować swoje uczucia dla siebie, lepiej, niż ja. Ale po raz pierwszy w życiu, gówno mnie to obchodziło. Przez całe życie martwiłam się, jak moje zachowanie wpływa na uczucia innych ludzi, czy nie sprawiam nikomu przykrości, ale w tamtej chwili widziałam jak ta biedna pani cierpi, niczym zamknięta w kabinie ciśnieniowej i gówno mnie obchodziło, że to ja jestem przyczyną jej cierpienia. Przecież nie mogłam panować nad reakcją mojego ciała na stres i byłam naprawdę wkurwiona, że kobieta pracuje w międzynarodowej klinice i nie może powiedzieć jednego, pieprzonego słowa po angielsku, żeby mnie pocieszyć. Po całej tej walce, którą obie musiałyśmy stoczyć, przez minuty, które ciągnęły się, niczym godziny, do gabinetu wszedł lekarz, spojrzał baaaardzo dokładnie na wyniki, zrobił jeszcze kilka skanów, rozmawiając po japońsku z biedną kobietą i patrzył na mnie wzrokiem, który nic mi nie mówił i byłam gotowa zabić. Przez chwilę wyobraziłam sobie, jak z zimną krwią zabijam ich oboje i ten obraz pozwolił mi zachować spokój, aż w końcu powiedzieli mi, że poziom NT nie jest tak wysoki, jak wykazały badania w Nowej Zelandii, teraz był na granicy normalnego poziomu. 3.4 mm, powiedział. Nie jest dobrze, ale nie jest źle. Cokolwiek to onzacza. Mogę być teraz zadowolna? Czy jeszcze nie? Czy to jest dobra wiadomość? I jakie to ma, do cholery, znaczenie, że wyniki były inne w Nowej Zelandii? Co mam o tym myśleć? Co dalej? Miałam w głowie tyle pytań, ale nasza rozmowa była bardzo ograniczona i musiałam zaakceptować fakt, że sytuacja nie jest już tragiczna i trzeba czekać na wyniki badań krwi. Arigato, arigato, ukłon do podłogi i papa. Pomyślałam, że powinnam czuć ulgę i może nawet trochę ją czułam, ale nie aż tak, jakbym chciała. Pan. B jest optymistą, więc przyjął tę wiadomość jako SUPER, WSZYSTKO JEST OK, ale mi, która zawsze się martwię, nie udzialał się jesgo optymizm. Dużo jeszcze przed nami, co najmniej dwa różne badania krwi, może amniopunkcja, wiele badań serca dziecka na różnych etapach ciąży i kto wie co jeszcze. Patrzyłam przed siebie i widziałam tylko długie miesiące niepewności i jedno badanie za drugim, bo do każdego badania dziecko musi mieć odpowiedni wiek. Miałam też przed oczami czas spędzony w oczekiwaniu na wyniki kolejnych badań. Wiedziałam, że będę wolna od tego piekła dopiero po urodzeniu dziecka. Od teraz, to była moja rzeczywistość. Byliśmy w Japonii dokładnie 3 lata temu. Zrobiłam test ciążowy w Beppu 14.02.2013 i okazał się pozytywny, byliśmy już wtedy we trójkę. Miał się urodzić Leo. I było to dla nas jedno z bardziej abstrakcyjnych doświadczeń. Trzy lata później, 2016, znowu byliśmyw Japonii. Przez te trzy lata nie mogłam się doczekać, żeby tam wrócić. Japonia była dla mnie jednym z najbardziej intensywnych doświadczeń podróżniczych. Zupełnie inna od wszystkiego, co do tej pory znałam. Oszałamiająca, intrygująca, szokująca, inspirująca, wizualnie wyjątkowa i intensywna. Przez 3 lata miałam ciągłe flashbacki z Japonii, zapach powietrza, światła, dotyk zimna na mojej skórze albo tylko smak chwili i znowu tam byłam. Chciałam tam wrócić, bo w Japonii czułam wszystko o wiele mocniej. Moje zmysły stały przed wyzwaniem, wszystkie w tym samym czasie i to było wspaniałe uczucie. A więc znowu tu jesteśmy, nasza trójka w Japonii, Leo był chodzącą i mówiąca osobą, z którą świetnie spędza się czas i z którą ciężko się spędza czas, z którym jednocześnie super odkrywa się na nowo świat, ale potrafi to być wycieńczające, ale który jest nieodłączną częścią naszego świata. A tym razem jest nas czworo. Kolejne życie, które noszę w brzuchu, kolejne życie, które jest podwójną niebieską linią na kawałku plastiku i mnóstwem wydruków z badań ultradźwiękiem. Życie, które jest dla nas zagadką, nie dlatego, że nie wiemy jak być rodzicem dla malutkiego człowieka, ale dlatego, że ten człowiek będzie kolejnym zaskoczeniem na wielu płaszczyznach. Kiedy wracamy do domu w chwilowym spokoju, wokół jeziora Kawaguchiko, próbuję znowu chłonąć to, co nas otacza. Próbuję żyć chwilą, pozbyć się strachu i cieszyć się tym, co mamy i tym, co zostało nam dane. Wyniki są OK, zagrożenie anomaliami chromosomalnymi jest dośc niskie, ale nie na tyle, żeby mieć jakąkolwiek pewność. Dni pełne niepewności, to nasza nowa rzeczywistość. Czeka nas kolejny test w Polsce, ale na razie, to wystarczy. Wystarczy, żeby mocno przytulić do siebie Małego L, zanim pobiegnie do swoich wyimaginowanych połowów rybackich, wystarczy, żebym pozwoliła się przytulić Panu B. i poczuła do niego miłość, schowaną głęboko pod gorzkimi resztkami z naszych niedawnych kłótni i wystarczy, żebym w końcu dotknęła mojego brzucha, który nie jest już tylko mój i pozwoliła sobie poczuć szczęście za tę rosnącą istotę, nowy element układanki, jaką jest nasza rodzina. Zdrowa, czy nie,to się jeszcze okaże.

Tłumaczenie: Weronika Makowska

 

 

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New Zealand

New Zealand

I had photos for this post ready for some time now, but I felt I can not post them just like that, without a text. And getting myself to write the text was damn hard. I realised I would post photos more frequently if I did not have to write as well. Writing became difficult. And that is strange, cause it actually used to be the easy part. I would just sit on my ass for a while and let it all out. Easy, no thinking, no analysing, simply letting it go. It felt so natural and healing in a way. But than I got criticised that my texts are negative. And I could not handle the critique. I could not handle it because I felt I was not understood. If those people knew me they would know I am not negative I am being ironic, sarcastic and all that shit. Because that helps to keep a distance from oneself. And there were people out there who did not get it and I did not know how to let them know that NO this is not negative. But that is all part of the story I already wrote here before. About feeling vulnerable, about feeling exposed on my own request and about not handling the different opinions on what I had to say. I felt week and shut myself down. All that questioning was becoming bigger than me and I did not want to fight it anymore. And now I sound like depressed weirdo, but now I don’t care.

Well maybe saying that I don’t care is a little exaggerated statement, I’d better say I am learning not to care.
I have been very week when it comes to self-esteem issues my whole life and most of that “public” exposing my life was sort of a fake game I would play to make myself and others believe that I don’t have a problem. And I did that well I guess. I almost stated believe in it. But then Leo was born and I became naked in a second. I became thousand times more vulnerable than I was before. I felt as if someone would tear the skin of my body. Leo was my weak point. My love for him, my fear for him. And that started of processes that I had no idea about. My vulnerability transferred to almost all aspects of my life and as I have been artificially repressing things for a long time, the natural event took place. It all cumulated and exploded as an uncontrolled volcano one day last summer. That was a point when I knew I am not gonna handle this alone. And I asked for help. It was not difficult thing to do. I took a phone and wrote a sms to a psychologist /I had her number in my phone for years and never used it/ that either she will take me next day of I am gonna go mad. She surprisingly did not find it a drama queen self oriented bullshit and offered me a visit next day. It was a beginning of quite traumatic journey that still lasts. But why am I writing it now? No it is not because I find going to shrink IN or cool or worth a special attention. It is probably because I feel that sharing this actually highly negative information might be a step towards accepting myself even if I will be criticised for being actually negative. Maybe because I finally made a decision to come of out my own dark. This is my way of dealing with the advice she gave me on our last meeting. I don’t have to please everybody, I don’t even have to care. I can take on the luxury of doing whatever I want and fuck the rest. So keeping this in my mind I can now easily /TRY TO/ say out loud that our trip to New Zealand this year was the most difficult and physically and emotionally exhausting experience. Yes now I can be that spoiled brat that will cry over flying to New Zealand. OH yes that is exactly what I am going to do right now. This trip was supposed to be the highest peak of our traveling experience as a family of three. Japan and New Zealand. That is a dream come true. And I was sure it was going to be.
Last year in november I was told by my doctor in Slovakia that I can not have babies anymore. Not that I can’t have them, but I should not have them as due to the way my C section was done I would be in life danger if I got pregnant again. She was so strict about it that she advised us as a couple to go for Bart’s vasectomy. That would solve the problem. Well that was a shocking information. Not that we were trying to have another baby at that point, on contrary I actually felt that our life is slowly getting a little organised, we finished the reconstruction, Leo became a grown up 2 year old guy and things seemed to be calming down. But somewhere deep inside I knew I did not want Leo to grow up without brother or sister. I felt that it is not fair for him if we did not at least try. When I was told that this option is no longer an option for us I realised that I actually wanted to have another baby very much /it just was not the right time as usually/. People always have this automatic feeling of power when they feel in charge of things, but when they are suddenly taken the chance to decide they panic crazily. I panicked as well. So after the initial shock I wen to see two more doctors. And luckily I was told that there is no such case that I would be in higher danger than any other pregnant women, but since I was still breastfeeding Leo I was constantly having cysts that were causing my ovaries defunctioning. It is not completely normal as breastfeeding is not really a contraception and definitely not when you breastfeed for over two years, but I seemed to be one of those cases that has to stop in order to get pregnant again. And I was not ready and Leo was not ready.
Anyway I felt secure again that I have things in my hands. I could get pregnant and I am the one who decides when. Apparently I did not get my lesson on humbleness yet.
I was pregnant already when I was visiting second doctor in Poland but it was such early stage of pregnancy that it was not visible. The test turned positive three weeks before our departure for big 2 months long adventure. Well it sure was not a reason for us to change our plans. We planned it long ago and my pregnancy was only a cherry on that sweet pie. And it even felt very symbolic as I actually found out I was pregnant with Leo when I was in Japan 3 years ago. Now we were going back as a family of to be 4.
One doctor told me to cancel the trip because there were some issues that were causing him to have a reasonable doubt that it might not be the best time to travel such distances. But I felt its gonna be ok. Whatever is to happen will happen. Is it a rule that when you feel like you just jumped on a racing horse and take of for the victory you have to realise that you are the only one riding a carthorse?
There is maybe nothing concerning my body that I fear and hate more than vomiting. I swear I would rather die of poisoning than vomit. I never vomited when I was pregnant with Leo. I think my own paranoid fear made me go through that pregnancy as a vomiting virgin. First time in years and years I did puke was on the flight to Auckland. Believe me I almost died. I almost died because it was after the breakfast not long before landing. The small airplane toilette offered everything it had to offer after 11 hours flight. It was THE WORSE, because I did not vomit once, or twice. I had to be locked there for over 30 minutes, while there was a queue of 15 people outside that I had to pass by when I finally left. And I am sure at least firs 5 of them had to witness the symphony of uncontrolled mix of crying and puking that I produced. I was humiliated and devastated at the same time.
That was to be just a beginning. My mood got back to ecstatic level when we picked up our old camper van at the airport. I felt the blood of “always complaining” camper lover in my veins and was ready to forget not only the public humiliation but also the simple fact I threw up. We were all ready to hit the road. Our plans were big and courageous. We had a plan ahead of us. 3 weeks on the road, thousands of kilometres, thousands of photos, tracks and adventures. All that you get to see in picturesque travel guides from NZ. Well we did hit the road but it only took us 20 minutes till we had to stop cause I had to vomit again, and than again and again and again. And I had to vomit each time the car moved, I vomited even if there was nothing more to vomit, it became so natural as breathing, I did not fight it anymore because I had no power. I beated all the records. Once I vomited before we even made it to the camping exit, I guess it took me 10seconds of car driving. I know this is nothing special to write about. It is a normal symptom of pregnancy. But fuck we just made it to NZ. We had a PLAN. We wanted to travel and explore and drive and see and here I am vomiting. And there is nothing that can be done. I thought that was the worse thing that can happen to me. We not only did not make thousands of kilometres, or down the north island, we did not even make it to Raglan. OMG just look at the map what is the distance between Auckland and Raglan. We were fucked. I could not even walk around Auckland at the end of our trip because our walks always turned into hysteric search of public toilettes. I was angry, I felt this was unfair and I did not deserve this at all. I am looking at the photos from NZ now and it looks almost as a ode on Leo not a photos from trip to the paradise. But hell Leo was always around me and I was never too far. I was defeated. At least I thought so.
Three days before we left NZ to Japan I went for first trimester ultrasound. We all went. It was supposed to be the moment we ll remember forever. Happy beautiful family, Leo makes for the beautiful part, showing an angel like looking sweet son his brother or sister for the first time. Happy smiles, white teeth, little bit of tears of happiness and kisses of moved parents.
While I was lying on the bed, Bart was having some hard time keeping Leo in the bearable level of sanity. He just went crazy when he saw me being examined by a doctor!!! He was crying so loud that we did not hear each other, but I still could find some magic in that situation. Until the lady who did the scan was not quiet for to long. I knew something was wrong I just did not want to ask what the fuck was it. I knew that once I ask I will hear something that might change our reality for good. I was waiting for her to start but tears were already going down my face. Bart was so absorbed by trying to calm down Leo that I had to tell him twice that something is very wrong until he got the message. I am pretty sure I have never seen anybody change colour of the skin that fast. He went from brown to completely white in just one second. He looked at me and he did not want to understand what I was saying. I could see in his look that he just decided to reject the information that slipped out of my mouth. Well when the doctor finally decided it is time to share the secret with us we were acknowledged that our child will most probably have some sort of genetic disorder or in a better case major heart disease.
She suggested we do the Chorionic Villus Sampling as fast as possible because blood tests will for sure only approve her suspicion. Whenever in my life I thought things are pretty bad I was wrong. That moment there was THE MOMENT in life when nothing makes sense and at the same time everything makes sense. The very first question was the obligatory one, why US? But than why not US. This happens to parents all around the world so why the hell not us. Why are we different of better or why should we be more lucky. It can be us just like it can be anybody else.
I did not sleep for 72 hours straight. I read all the forums in internet in english, polish, slovak and german. I read everything there was to read about high NT and I felt like I was suddenly living life of somebody else. Sitting next to the toilet in the middle of the night. Alternately vomiting and reading about possible defects that little human that is growing inside of me might have. Does that sound like a dream trip? NO it does not. And it was not, it got us all so affected. Each of us in a different way. I stopped thinking about future, I stopped thinking about myself as a mother of two because I did not know if I will have a second child. There are some defects that require abortion because they put the life of the mother into risk, or the baby dies in womb, or the couple makes a decision to terminate the pregnancy. I did not know what is ahead of us but I knew I can’t let myself develop any feelings for that baby because it might be to painful. Bart had his own way of dealing with things. He seemed to worry less, at least I thought so until the night before our departure. We were supposed to fly to Japan and the evening before he started feeling really bad. I have never seen him in such pain before but he kept insisting that it is nothing and he must have eaten something that made him sick. Well that nothing turned to be acute appendix and when we were supposed to sit on an airplane he was lying on the operating table.
This is getting a little to long and possibly little to boring as well. So much negative shit in one post. I’ll just stop here because this is the end of our epic NZ adventure anyway. We had to wait till Bart would be able to fly, I was a nerve wreck but I guess we managed to do everything possible to make Leo believe that we are having THE time of our life. And guess what. When I look back now, I would never ever want to go through that one month again, it took some time, a lot of thinking and processing for it to become a material for blog post but now despite of all I believe that in a way we had the time of our life, because there is not better way to grow as a couple than to fall down together.

PS: Our story as well as the story of our daughter continues with the next set of photos from Japan. It is not a strategy to keep you all waiting for what happens next, I did not make it to be a soap opera star yet. I just feel that what happened in Japan belongs to the post from Japan. But we all seem to be OK, at least for now and in a extent which is medically provable :)

 


Nowa Zelandia

Miałam przygotowane zdjęcia do tego wpisu, już do jakiegoś czasu, ale nie chciałam publikować ich tak po prostu, bez żadnego tekstu. A pisanie okazało się ostatnio cholernie trudne. Zdałam sobie sprawę, że publikowałabym częściej na blogu, gdybym nie musiała pisać. Pisanie stało się trudne. Jest to o tyle dziwne, że kiedyś przychodziło mi ono łatwiej, niż robienie zdjęć. Siadałam na dupie i pisałam to, co przychodziło mi do głowy, wyrzucałam z siebie wszystko. Z łatwością, bez zastanawiania się, bez analizowania, po prostu pisałam. Był to dla mnie bardzo naturalny i za razem leczniczy proces. Ale potem zostałam skrytykowana za to, że moje teksty są deprymujące. I nie mogłam udźwignąć tej krytyki. Nie potrafiłam sobie z nią poradzić, ponieważ się czułam niezrozumiana. Gdyby ci ludzie znali mnie chociaż trochę, wiedzieliby, że nie jestem negatiwną osobą, tylko ironiczną, sarkastyczną. Sarkazm pomaga mi utrzymać dystans do samej siebie. I ludzie, którzy przeczytali moje teksty, w ogóle tego nie zrozumieli, ale nie wiedziałam, jak im wytłumaczyć, że NIE, to wcale nie jest negatywne nastawienie. Ale to już zupełnie inna historia, którą już wcześniej tu opisałam. Historia o tym, że czułam się bezbronna i obnażona na własne życzenie i o tym, jak nie potrafiłam sobie poradzić z różnymi opiniami na temat moich tekstów. Czułam się słaba i zamknęłam się na świat. Przerosło mnie analizowanie całej sprawy i nie miałam już ochoty walczyć. Teraz brzmię jak jakiś dziwoląg pogrążony w depresji, ale teraz już mnie to nie obchodzi.
Może „nie obchodzi”, to za duże słowo, ale powiedzmy, że próbuję się mniej przejmować. Przez całe życie miałam ogromne problemy z pewnością siebie i „publiczne” obnażanie mojego życia było swojego rodzaju grą, którą prowadziłam, żeby udowodnić sobie i innym, że nie mam z tym problemu. I w pewnym stopniu mi się to udało. Prawie sama zaczęłam w to wierzyć. Ale potem urodził się Leo i w jedną chwilę stałam się naga. Byłam tysiąc razy bardziej obnażona, niż kiedykolwiek wcześniej. Czułam się tak, jakby ktoś zdarł ze mnie całą skórę. Leo był moim słabym punktem. Moja miłość do niego, mój strach. Rozpoczęło to proces, o którym nawet nie miałam pojęcia. Poczułam się bezbronna na każdym polu życia i podczas gdy tłumiłam w sobie uczucia, w moim życiu wydarzyło się coś, co połączyło mnie z sama sobą. Wszystko skumulowało się i wybuchło, niczym niekontrolowany wulkan, pewnego dnia zeszłego lata. Wtedy zrozumiałam, że nie uda mi się samej z tym poradzić. Więc poprosiłam o pomoc. Nie było to trudne. Wzięłam telefon i napisałam smsa do psycholożki / miałam zapisany jej numer od lat, ale nigdy z niego nie skorzystałam/ i powiedziałam, że albo mnie przyjmie albo zwariuję. O dziwo nie pomyślała sobie, że jestem histeryczką, która wciska jej kit, żeby zwrócić na siebie uwagę i umówiła mnie na następny dzień. Był to początek dość traumatycznej podróży, która nadal trwa. Ale dlaczego o tym piszę? Nie dlatego, że uważam iż chodzenie do psychologa jest na czasie albo cool albo zasługuje na specjalną uwagę.
Piszę to, ponieważ wydaje mi się, że dzielenie się z innymi tą totalnie negatywną informacją, może być krokiem do zaakceptowania siebie, nawet jeśli zostanę skrytykowana za bycie totalnie negatywną osobą. Może dlatego, że w końcu podjęłam decyzję o tym, żeby wyjść z mroku. Korzystam z rady, której udzieliła mi moja psycholog podczas ostatniej wizyty. Nie muszę wszystkim dogadzać, nie muszę się nawet przejmować, mogę robić to, co mi się podoba i pieprzyć resztę. Tak więc, mając tę radę na uwadze, mogę spokojnie /SPRÓBOWAĆ/ powiedzieć na głos, że nasza tegoroczna podróż do Nowej Zelandii była najtrudniejszym, fizycznie i psychicznie wyczerpującym doświadczeniem. Tak, teraz w końcu mogę być tym rozpuszczonym bachorem, który płacze, bo musiał jechać do Nowej Zelandii. O TAK, teraz właśnie sobie ponarzekam. Ta wycieczka miała przebić wszystkie podróże, jakie kiedykolwiek odbyła nasza trzyosobowa rodzina. Japonia i Nowa Zelandia, brzmi jak spełnienie marzeń i byłam pewna, że nim będzie.
W zeszłym roku, w listopadzie, mój lekarz na Słowacji powiedział mi, że nie mogę mieć więcej dzieci, a raczej, że nie powinnam ich mieć. Po cesarskim cięciu, które mi zrobiono podczas ostatniego porodu, kolejny poród byłby zagrożeniem dla mojego życia. Lekarz podszedł do sprawy na tyle poważnie, że zalecił Bartowi wazektomię, jako rozwiązanie problemu. To była dopiero szokująca wiadomość. Nie dlatego, że staraliśmy się o drugie dziecko, wręcz przeciwnie, czułam, że w końcu nasze życie trochę się ustabilizowało. Skończyliśmy remont, Leo jest dorosłym dwulatkiem i wydawało się, że mamy trochę spokoju. Ale gdzieś w głębi czułam, że nie chcę, żeby Leo dorastał bez siostry lub brata i że to wobec niego nie w porządku, jeśli nawet nie spróbujemy. I kiedy powiedziano mi, że ta opcja nie jest już opcją, poczułam, że tak naprawdę bardzo chciałam mieć drugie dziecko / po prostu nie był to odpowiedni moment, jak zwykle/. Ludzie zawsze czują się silni, kiedy wydaje im się, że kierują własnym życiem, ale kiedy odbierze im się możliwość podejmowania decyzji, panikują jak szaleni. Ja też spanikowałam. A kiedy szok już trochę ze mnie opadł, postanowiłam poradzić się jeszcze dwóch innych lekarzy. I na szczęście powiedziano mi, że to nieprawda i nie będę narażona na większe niebezpieczeństwo, niż inne kobiety w ciąży, ale ponieważ nadal karmiłam Leo piersią, miałam cysty, które powodowały zaburzenie pracy jajników. Nie jest to do końca normlana sytuacja, bo zazwyczaj karmienie piersią nie jest formą antykoncepcji, a szczególnie, kiedy trwa dwa lata, ale wyglądało na to, że ja jestem jedną z tych kobiet, które muszą odstawić dziecko od piersi, żeby zajść znowu w ciążę. Nie byłam na to gotowa i Leo też nie. W każdym razie, czułam się znowu bezpiecznie, bo mogłam decydować o swoim życiu. Mogłam zajść w ciążę i to ja decydowałam kiedy. Widać, że nie odrobiłam jeszcze lekcji z pokory. Byłam już w ciąży, podczas wizyty u drugiego lekarza w Polsce, ale było jeszcze za wcześnie, żeby to stwierdzić. Zrobiłam test trzy tygodnie przed wyprawą w naszą dwumiesięczną podróż i okazał się pozytywny. Nie mieliśmy zamiaru niczego zmieniać. Planowaliśmy tę podróż od dłuższego czasu, a moja ciąża miała być tylko wisienką na słodkim torcie. Czułam, że to bardzo symboliczne, ponieważ odkryłam, że jestem w ciąży z Leo, podczas naszej podróży do Japonii trzy lata wcześniej. A teraz wracaliśmy tam jako rodzina prawie czteroosobowa. Jeden z lekarzy poradził mi, żebym odwołała podróż, ponieważ twierdził, że nie jest to najlepszy moment do latania na takie odległości. Ale czułam, że będzie ok. Co ma się zdarzyć, to się zdarzy. Czy zawsze tak musi być, że kiedy czujesz się, jakbyś właśnie wskoczył na konia i biegł w wyścigu, to okazuje się, że tylko twój koń, to koń zaprzęgowy?
Nie ma nic, czego boję się bardziej, niż wymiotowania. Przysięgam, że wolałabym umrzeć zatruta, niż zwymiotować. Nigdy nie wymiotowałam, kiedy byłam w ciąży z Leo. To pewnie mój paranoiczny strach, sprawił, że przebrnęłam przez ciążę zupełnie zielona w tym temacie. Podczas lotu do Auckland zwymiotowałam pierwszy raz od wielu lat. Uwierzcie mi, prawie umarłam. A to dlatego, że wszystko miało miejsce zaraz po śniadaniu, niedługo przed lądowaniem. Mała toaleta wyglądała tak, jak zwykle wyglądają toalety po 11 godzinach lotu. To było NAJGORSZE i nie dlatego, że zwymiotowałam raz, czy dwa. Musiałam się zamknąć na 30 minut, podczas gdy na zewnątrz zrobiła się piętnastoosobowa kolejka, którą musiałam minąć, kiedy w końcu wyszłam. I jestem pewna, że co najmniej pierwsza piątka załapała się na moją symfonię niekontrolowanego płaczu i rzygania. Czułam się poniżona i zdruzgotana. A to był dopiero początek. Mój nastrój znowu się poprawił i byłam przeszczęśliwa, kiedy na lotnisku wynajęliśmy naszego starego campera. Poczułam krew „wiecznie narzekającej” miłośniczki campera w moich żyłach i byłam gotowa zapomnieć nie tylko o publicznym upokorzeniu, ale również o incydencie w samolotowej toalecie. W końcu mogliśmy ruszyć w drogę. Nasze plany były odważne i duże. A co najważniejsze, mieliśmy plan. 3 tygodnie w drodze, tysiące kilometrów, tysiące zdjęć, droga i przygody. Wszystko to, co widzi się w malowniczych przewodnikach po Nowej Zelandii. Tak więc, wyruszyliśmy w drogę, ale minęło raptem 20 minut i znowu musieliśmy się zatrzymać, bo musiałam zwymiotować, a potem jeszcze raz i jeszcze raz i jeszcze raz. I tak za każdym razem, kiedy samochód ruszał, wymiotowałam nawet jeśli nie było już nic do zwymiotowania, stało się to naturalne, niczym oddychanie. Nie mogłam już się opierać, bo nie miałam siły. Pobiłam wszystkie rekordy. Raz nawet zwymiotowałam, zanim udało nam się wyjechać z parkingu, zajęło mi to chyba 10 sekund od zapalenia silnika. Wiem, że to nie jest zbyt szczególny temat. To tylko jeden z objawów, jakie towarzyszą ciąży. Ale cholera, właśnie dojechaliśmy do Nowej Zelandii. Mieliśmy PLAN. Chcieliśmy podróżować i odkrywać i jeździć, a ja rzygałam na całego. I nie da się nic z tym zrobić. Myślałam, że to najgorsze, co może mi się przytrafić. Nie tylko nie przejechaliśmy tysiąca kilometrów, ani nie dojechaliśmy na północną wyspę, nie udało nam się nawet dojechać do Raglan. O MÓJ BOŻE, spójrzcie sobie na mapę i zobaczcie ile jest kilometrów od Auckland do Raglan. Mieliśmy przerąbane. Pod koniec naszej podróży, nie mogłam nawet chodzić po Auckland, bo za każdym razem kończyło się to panicznym poszukiwaniem publicznej toalety. Byłam zła. Czułam, że to niesprawiedliwe i na to nie zasługuję. Patrzę teraz na zdjęcia z NZ i wygląda to jak oda do Leo, a nie zdjęcia z wycieczki do raju. Ale, cholera, Leo zawsze był przy mnie, a ja nigdy za bardzo się nie oddalałam. Odniosłam porażkę. A przynajmniej tak mi się zdawało. Trzy dni przed wylotem do Japonii poszłam na badania po pierwszym trymestrze. Wszyscy poszliśmy. Miał to być moment, który zapamiętamy na zawsze. Szczęśliwa, piękna rodzina, Leo miał być tą piękną częścią, słodkie dziecko z anielskim wzrokiem, które pierwszy raz widzi swojego braciszka lub siostrzyczkę. Wesołe uśmiechy, białe zęby, kilka łez szczęścia i pocałunki wzruszonych rodziców. Kiedy leżałam na łóżku, Bart z trudem mógł utrzymać Leo, który dostał histerii. Po prostu oszalał, kiedy zobaczył, że bada mnie lekarz!!!! Płakał tak głośno, że nawet się nie słyszeliśmy, ale mimo to nadal odnajdywałam trochę magii w całej tej sytuacji. Dopóki pani, która zrobiła badanie, nie zaczęła milczeć przez bardzo długi czas. Wiedziałam, że coś jest nie tak, ale nie chciałam nawet pytać co to, do cholery, jest. Wiedziałam, że kiedy się dowiem, zmieni to naszą rzeczywistość na dobre. Czekałam, aż coś powie, ale zanim się odezwała, łzy zaczęły spływać mi po policzkach. Bart był tak zajęty Leo, że musiałam powtórzyć dwa razy, że coś jest nie tak, zanim usłyszał. Jestem prawie pewna, że nigdy nie widziałam, żeby czyjaś twarz zmieniła kolor w tak szybkim czasie. W jedną sekundę zeszła mu opalenizna i zrobił się biały, jak ściana. Spojrzał na mnie i nie chciał zrozumieć o czym mówię. Zobaczyłam w jego oczach, że postanowił zignorować słowa, które właśnie wysunęły się z moich ust. A kiedy lekarz w końcu zdecydował, że podzieli się z nami swoim sekretem, zostaliśmy poinformowani, że nasze dziecko będzie miało jakąś chorobę genetyczną, a w najlepszym przypadku, poważną wadę serca. Poradziła nam, żebyśmy wykonali biopsję kosmówki najszybciej, jak się da, bo badania krwi na pewno potwierdzą jego teorię. Kiedy kiedykolwiek w życiu myślałam, że jest źle, byłam w błędzie. Tamten moment, to był właśnie TEN MOMENT, w którym nic nie ma sensu, a jednocześnie wszystko ma sens. Pierwsze pytania, jakie się nasuwało, to dlaczego MY? Ale z drugiej strony, dlaczego nie MY. To się przydarza rodzicom z całego świata, więc dlaczego do cholery, nam miałoby się nie przydarzyć. Dlaczego mielibyśmy być inni lub lepsi albo dlaczego mielibyśmy mieć więcej szczęścia. Mogło paść na nas tak samo, jak na kogokolwiek innego. Nie spałam przez 72 godziny pod rząd. Przeczytałam wszystkie fora internetowe po angielsku, polsku, słowacku i niemiecku. Przeczytałam wszystko to, co było do znalezienia o zwiększonej wartości NT i nagle poczułam się, jakbym żyła życiem innej osoby. Siedziałam obok toalety, w środku nocy. Wymioty przeplatane były lekturą o wszystkich możliwych chorobach tego małego człowieka, który rósł w moim brzuchu. Czy to brzmi jak podróż marzeń? NIE, nie brzmi. I wcale nie nią nie była, wszystkie wydarzenia wpłynęły na każdego z nas. Na każdego w inny sposób. Ja przestałam myśleć o przyszłości, przestałam myśleć o sobie, jako o matce dwójki dzieci, bo nie wiedziałam, czy będę miała drugie dziecko. Przy niektórych wadach konieczna jest aborcja, ponieważ ciąża zagraża życiu matki albo dziecko umiera przed narodzinami albo para podejmuje decyzję o aborcji. Nie wiedziałam co jest przed nami, ale wiedziałam, że nie mogę się przywiązywać do tego dziecka, ponieważ może to być zbyt bolesne. Bart miał swój sposób na radzenie sobie z sytuacją. Wyglądało na to, że przestał się przejmować, a przynajmniej tak mi się wydawało, aż do wieczora tuż przed naszym wyjazdem. Mieliśmy jechać do Japonii, ale dzień wcześniej bardzo źle się poczuł. Nigdy nie widziałam go w takim bólu, ale on upierał się, że to nic takiego i pewnie tylko się zatruł. To nic okazało się zapaleniem wyrostka i kiedy mieliśmy siedzieć w samolocie, on leżał na stole operacyjnym. Ten wpis robi się trochę długi i pewnie za nudny. Tyle negatywnych emocji w jednym poście. Tutaj skończę, bo to i tak koniec naszej epickiej podróży do NZ. Musieliśmy czekać, aż Bart będzie mógł znowu latać, ja była strzępkiem nerwów, ale wydaje mi się, że pomimo wszystko udało nam się stworzyć dla Leo atmosferę, jakby to była nasza podróż życia. I wiecie co? Jak teraz o niej myślę, to nigdy w życiu nie chciałabym przeżyć tego miesiąca jeszcze raz, potrzebowałam czasu do przemyślenia i przetrawienia tego, co się wydarzyło, żeby powstał materiał na bloga, ale teraz, pomimo wszystko myślę, że była to podróż życia, bo nie ma lepszego sposobu na to, by dorosnąć jako para, niż razem upaść.
PS. Nasza historia oraz historia naszej córki ma swój ciąg dalszy razem ze zdjęciami z Japonii. Nie jest to chwyt, żebyście czekali na kolejny odcinek, nie planuję stworzyć z tego opery mydlanej. Ale wydaje się, że wszyscy mamy się dobrze, przynajmniej na teraz i można to potwierdzić medycznie :)

tłumaczenie: Weronika Makowska

 

 

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final countdown

final countdown

  

It is for sure, that this is my last post that I am writing pregnant. Actually there is not much that I have to say or show. It turned out that pregnancy is not thrilling state of being as well as subject to write about more than once :), ..or at least for me. If there was some prize or grades giving at the end of those 10 months I sure would not be standing and waiting in the front row. Last weeks, particularly last two are nothing more than just waiting and counting the hours…Not that I could not wait for the change of situation, I simply find living with myself, in my body absolutely unappealing and exhausting. I did not go through this period of my life with much of a spiritual “grace” so to say – its somehow hard for me to be spiritual gaining 23 kg and developing horrible cellulite….I did not feel connected with mother earth or with cosmic powers, I did not feel blessed from God or touched by the spirits crying from sentiment that there is a life blooming inside of me like a magic flower, I did not have goosebumps each time I touched my belly, in fact I was not touching it that much, I did not feel chills going up my spine each time Mr. Little moved inside of me – even though it was pretty impressive sometimes, I did not take my belly selfies with iPhone in the mirror each week, I did not start to write a diary for my unborn child and did not make the ultrasound picture my FB profile photo. I was simply pregnant. It was the only fact I could comprehend, anything else was way beyond my imagination. Even though it is now one last week to go I still cant picture the situation that one day we will be entering our flat together with little person that is to join our 4 and half years quite well functioning little family of three. Of course I know, heard it millions of times, how great and cool and magic it is going to be, but that is something I have to experience in order to understand. For now I am just thinking how it is going to change us ….change Mr.B who probably gets the whole thing even less then me, what is Mr.T going to do as he was almost 10 years my little polyp, how I am going to change. I am expecting all that hormones explosions that I heard about. Am I going to be the mama who only takes photos of her child, every minute of the day, Mr.Little smiling, crying, Mr.Little in dipper sleeping, Mr.Little in the bath looking shocked, Mr.Little licking his fingers, Mr.Little in new cute outfit, Mr.Little in the carseat, Mr.Little under the christmas tree, Mr. Little without the diaper on the bed, on Mr.B’s chest, in my lap, Mr.Little from left, from right, from above and from far….I am not saying there is anything wrong about doing that I’m just wondering if that will naturally become my new instagram feed and I will be completely ok and happy with it. I m thinking how we are going to change as a family….Couple of days ago we were sitting with Mr.B in our little tiny “office” which normally meant that Mr.B was editing photos or videos, I was drawing and Mr.T content that we are all together in such a small place snoring. Well lately I don’t sit there that much as sitting for longer time is quite uncomfortable, but the other night I was sitting there…Mr.T was doing pretty much the same thing as always, Mr.B was watching tutorials on how to operate Red camera and ME? I was watching tutorials as well, tutorials on eco cloth diapers….So here I am waiting for the birth as it will free me from this huge body that is no longer mine, it will allow me to move freely again – not just a short walks with T as I either have pain or I have to go pee, we will be traveling again, I will be able to sit for longer than half an hour, and life will get back to normal, new normal but normal….we ll be sharing everything we know with a little person, showing him the life we love, rediscovering for ourselves small simple things in order to be able to let the small guy experience them as new. But most of all I wish that we will not loose the balance, balance between what makes us us and between being parents, balance between giving ourself to the little man and not forgetting that we are also a couple that is here for each other, and of course not ever letting Mr.T feel that he is of less importance for us as there is a baby on board. If we’ll manage that, there is nothing else I could wish for…besides some exciting illustration job and seeing murmuration live…and some other dreams that are waiting in line….
  

  

let it rain and rain and rain

let it rain and rain and rain

  

its raining third day in a row an I LOVE it….I love this kind of weather…beginning of autumn….the smell of the air – mixture of wet wood, fallen leafs, misty air, and some secret ingredient which I can’t figure out….Looking out of the window makes me calm in the moments when I start to freak out about what is going to happen very soon…I’m sitting by my table thinking of all the things I want to do before Mr.Litte is born and I will be occupied with new duties and emotions…I feel like I want to do so much, finish so many things, ideas in my head are just bursting and I am getting stressed that there is no time to make them all happen…I also started to prepare things at home and of course came across the term nesting which I hate from the bottom of my heart….why is something that has to be done described as some kind of mental disorder….When you know you have guests coming over you also prepare them a place to sleep….when you know you are gonna have a child soon you just have to prepare some things for this new situation, it is not a matter of some secret brain or hormonal moves, it is simply a necessity…so why pregnancy nesting syndrome?… I really don’t get it…it comes from birds nest right?….but as far as I know most of birds build nests together…the male goes out and brings “the bricks” and female puts them in order…thats it…its a natural process…I just can’t help it but hearing “pregnant women nesting” gives me goose bumps and I start to feel like a chicken right away…not that I have anything against chicken at all !!!! anyway…cleaning my table I came across these slides that I have bought exactly year ago at Olympia market…I loved them as objects and of course for the same reason as we all love to look at old photos of anonymous people….I scanned couple of them just to become a part of somebody’s else story for a short glimpse of time….before I get back to drawing…I still dream of getting into the car and driving north than getting a prom and be taken to Bornholm or Gotland…but as Mr.B is not a midwife I suppose its better to stay at home….for now….

  

 
 

home is wherever I am home

home is wherever I am home

 
 

Last week we went for a short trip – “vacation” to Mazury. We would love to make a longer trip to some more exciting destination but even those 3 hours in the car were not the most pleasant experience of my life. For some time now we were trying to find sort of an “escape” place not far from Warsaw, where we could easy drive (not for 6 hours) to spend couple of days. A place that would fulfill our – I don’t think hight – expectations, which means privacy, nice surroundings, lake or river, apartment with kitchen, not to many people which in reality means from 2 to 0 :), and of course place that does not look like stuck in 90’s super polish design mode. We were not very lucky so last year we to do a trip to Mazury with our beloved Sven….And that truly was something! We came back after 4 days and 3 nights, exhausted, pissed and in a really really bad mood, but that is a separate story. This year I somehow accidentally came across place Masuria Arte and we were sure that is the place. And IT WAS THE PLACE. Everything was perfect. Private lake, loads and loads of space around for walking, only three apartments which meant very few people, nice design, small veggie garden….ideal. BUT that ‘s it. Driving to get there was terrifying – well for me. Before each time when I came to Poland I sort of was taking things easy here, or at least I was trying to (when I forget about our robbed flat and some drunk sick bastard beating me up on the street). Polish adventure was always just an adventure for limited amount of time. I knew I was coming to Poland just for a period of time and I knew I was going back to Vienna. unconsciously this fact was sitting there in the back of my mind and was letting me take things easy. Easy in the sense that I was just overlooking them, taking them as part of “adventure” in this “exotic” country. This year things changed, and they changed a LOT. I know now that I am not packing myself by the end of september and I am not going back to Vienna. I know I am staying here, and next year, and next and next…..This is now the country that I am going to live (if some sort of miracle does not happen and we will not get an offer of well payed jobs somewhere else), the country that is supposed to become my home. And this fact scared the shit out of me in such a way that it even surprised me. And yes, I realized that drive to and back from Mazury. I was thinking if I should write this post at all and not just skip it post the photos without any comment. I hate to cumulate negative energy, as there is enough of it around anyway…and making statement in the virtual space is even more tricky, as people tend to take things more personally and have less distance. But I just have to get it all out no matter how many of those who will read it will think I am a sucker. Whatever you might think, Poland is one of the visually most depressive places I know. Driving through Lomza gave me one of the most creepiest feelings, almost claustrophobic, as if I was closed in a small dark room without air and possibility to get out. That is probably because I realized that these kind of views are my reality now. Since I came here in July I was more or less closed at home or walking around in Saska Kepa. I did have a strange feeling of some sort of agression among people that was kind of hidden under the surface but you could just sense it almost everywhere. Kind of tension, people are not nice to each other, they give u bad looks, they are pissed about something most of the time, talk together in a very provocative way and explode easily. Yes I did feel that around and even tried to explain it to Mr.B who I think is so used to it that he does not see it anymore. But visually I was in a bubble, disturbed by amount of broken glass from bottles along Wisla, or trash that people for some strange reason put in the car and drive it to the wood to drop it. But it still was a bubble. As soon as we left central parts of Warszaw and drove through the outskirts and small towns the bubble just deflated like a truck tire and I was staring around me in shock. What happened in this place should be punished. I remember having a separate post on my blog about how much I love and admire polish poster design. But that is a past….polish design is past. What happened to that craftmanship and mastery of using types, of lettering, of working with colors and space? Where did it all go? Who let this dehonesting situation to go so far. Enormous amount of posters, advertisings, billboards create a separate space within a space. They cover everything that can be covered,using the most awful fonts, and colors and shadings and photos, there is no creativity it is just a plain horror that attacks your sight and gives you headache. Your eyes have no place where they could stop for a minute to rest, it is one attack after another. Billboards covering buildings that have nothing to do with architecture and in between there are these huge gypsum statues of horses, bulls, spiderman, buffalos and I don’t know what else sticking out as some kind of proud figurative masterpieces, together with plastic palms covered in dust. It looks like if somebody delibrately decided to screw up everything that can be screwed. There is zero feeling for any kind of aesthetics, zero feeling for the nature, for combining architecture with the actual space, zero respect for the country and for the people as well. Driving couple of hours through places like this surely must provoke agression. There is no other way. It is like turning on TV and switching the channels really fast for 3 hours, your eyes and brain get so exhausted and besotted that you start to be really nervous and easy irritable which is only one step away from either depression or agression. Now I can say that I really admire people who live here and are still able to create any kind of beauty whatsoever, who remain positive and creative, because I was not positive at all, and even less creative as we arrived to our place, where we literally locked ourselves for one week without any attempts to drive around and discover. I am not gonna try to make this sound any better than I mean it. It really is horrible and something should be done to stop this ridiculous and punishable devastation of the country. And instead of people start being sensitive on it, and start seeing those things trying to change them they get to read even more ridiculous article in one of the most opininon-forming newspaper. An american writer Jenn Pelly visits Poland for music festival and writes and article about it. Besides all the positive reactions to the music scene itself she is so “impertinent” to write also something negative about the place itself. AND SO WHAT. She was right. How come people are only able to accept the glory but reject completely critic? The fact that anonymous readers, frustrated haters and dickheads were insulting her on internet is nothing unexpected or new, but that the text in Gazeta Wybiorcza with master title “Ratunku, naszych bija!” was a true shame. Whoever wrote it probably does not read well in english, does not see, or has some other problem with accepting reality. But the polish reality will not change unless people will not be able to be critical about themselves and have a bit of fucking distance. OK that is about all I wanted to say :) ….. I am not Jenn Pelly and I am not writing an article for american paper….I am coming from postcomuinst country as well …. from country that is FAR away from being perfect in any way just as other countries I know. But that does not mean I can not have an opinion on Poland and that this opinion can even be negative in some aspects. And now I am gonna take Mr.T for “fakir” walk by Wisla and think about black storks……

  

 

please hold the line

please hold the line

  

Ok this being pregnant thing is getting more and more serious each day….I was kind of lucky avoiding all the horrible scary pregnancy symptoms and was hoping for Mr.Little to stay inside at least for half a year longer…..It took only two weeks to change my mind…NOW I’m hoping for him to get out as soon as possible (of course as long as he is well, healthy and happy ). Last week I started to have a small pain in my tooth, by the afternoon it was a bigger pain in my tooth so we googled closest dentist to our place and went….after not very professional treatment I ended up in emergency at night with huge pain in my tooth….they did what could be done at the moment and advised me to my dentist next day :)….so a search for “my dentist” begun….and I ended up at third dentist in two days with a huge pain in two of my teeth…yesterday I went to see my dentist again with third tooth and this thing does not seem to be ending any time soon…It is getting worse and worse…my teeth treatment will last until Mr.Little is born and most probably long after he is born. As I am not taking pain killers I’m really not happy about this situation, actually I was very unhappy yesterday…SO unhappy that I cried from pain for half an hour without stopping…and such thing has not happened to me since my childhood probably. SO yes the scary pregnancy symptoms got me as well…and I am not talking about sleepless nights when I can’t change my position because I fell like a huge bug fallen on the back chaotically waving my four limbs in the air…the most awkward, clumsy way of walking which makes me look as half paralyzed whale in the circus and never ending sweating day and night….My body is no longer ME or MINE … it is occupied by this little man who is moving around almost non stop…turning my belly into some horror like looking mass changing shape and size…this little guy who is simply adjusting everything to his needs…and I am like a big cabinet with small head, legs, hands and huge ass walking around waiting for him to open the door and step out to our lives….In the mean time I ‘m trying to work on a illustration of theater play and I’m really looking for our coming one week holidays in Mazury…AND I have the best ever husband…when he saw me crying from pain yesterday he wanted to make me happy so he went through my old photos from Israel and made this small compilation of those which were not published before…I think that is sweet as hell :)

PS: if u know about any exciting illustration project that my work could fit in ( book cover, cd cover, magazine article, kids book, t-shirt design, wall paper design whatever that might be ) please let me know…I’d be very happy to start working from home for the next months :)
  

  

yeah it can get too hot

yeah it can get too hot

  

I hate the weather talks…always hated them and always will. They are not even useful as a dull conversation saviors…No matter what, the subject weather is always connected with complains…its a never ending story…either too hot, too cold, too much rain, no rain, too much snow, no snow…the weather can never get right for longer than one day. I was always trying to fight with myself not to get involved in such boring and annoying bulshiting and hell that I was really close many times as I don’t happen to be happy about the weather condition all the time as well….last week I was listening a lot about the heat and I had my comments on how people are getting on my nerves complaining that it is too hot…common its a summer time and its supposed to be hot…if it was not everybody would be crying what a fucked up summer it is….BUT….the heat got me…I was trying to be over it very much till sunday evening…yesterday was a total knock down…I’m literally not doing anything else since yesterday but complaining how crazy bad I feel…Our flat thanks to the fact that it’s actually on a cellar level has always been quite cold and very pleasant in the summer…unbeatable got beaten and I’m sweating and boiling in my own sauce…..I had a huge drawing plans, photo plans and kitchen plans as Mr.B’s and my parents are coming for visit tomorrow…NONE of them happened…I spend last two days more or less in the bed half naked with wet towel on my head…Mr.T acts as the weirdest creature in the world…he lies in the sun until he is almost fainting and when we gradually cool him with water he goes inside, hides himself under the bed sheets and comes out only in the moment when he can’t breath anymore….it takes him 20 loud minutes to cool down…and than he does the same thing over again….I really don’t remember introducing him sauna on our trip to Finland…so I wander where this comes from. Well what I wanted to say with all this complaining was that I was all ready to run this blog properly on a regular basis but the weather is against me :)

PS: ps has to be of course…IT has to be because I have to thank for all the comments under my last post…I felt like being welcomed at home after being on a long journey away…I felt like loosing my virginity writing a new post after such a long time and this amazing welcome home was so unexpected and warm that it made me really sentimental.
  


 

really good for the heat…pears, cucumber, kale, coconut water, chia seeds ….its super delicious

 

 

morning energy supply…frozen bananas, dates, vanila soy milk, coconut water

 

 

when Mr.T cant take the heat and does not give a shit about the ball it means its a case of emergency

 

  

still pregnant but back

still pregnant but back

  

I remember very well the day I found out that I was pregnant ( or as some say we were pregnant, even though I believe that couple is expecting a child but pregnant is only one of them ). It was 14th of february. Romantic connection is truly just a coincidence. We were taking shinkansen on our way to Beppu in Japan. I love traveling by trains and never really had a problem with one….well besides the night train with broken heating on the way from Vienna to Warszaw when the outside temperature dropped to minus 20. But if you ever were so lucky to travel by trains in Japan u know that its a synonym for comfort, hygiene and well organized EVERYTHING. So it really shocked me that I felt as if I was dying during that quiet, not shaky trip….I could actually feel every little movement of the train and each tiny “shake” made me wanna throw my stomach out. I knew something was wrong and it was not food poisoning. On the way from station to our ryokan we bought a test. Whatever the japanese letters meant, I could count those two lines and did not need a special translator. It was a shock. I know that may sound stupid as we both are old enough to know how to protect ourselves from pregnancy, but based on our almost 3 years experience we sort of understood that we can not have kids and took it as a fact. And here I am with a positive pregnancy test and confusion in my head….at that moment I could hear Mr.B’s brain working hard, just as hard as mine. Anyway I don’t believe that this is the most interesting story in the world so to make it shorter. I went through period of initial shock, to the period of not quite understanding or admitting the situation, to the moments when I even forgot about it for a short time until I physically started to feel miserable. I had one week in Vienna when I was in the bed without any possibility to move, as each movement was equal to such sort of dizziness which I never experienced before. I suppose I fought in a normal extent the most known symptoms of pregnancy except for puking. THNAK GOD, because I hate puking, I could never suffer from any eating disorder as my hater for puking is so strong that even when I really have to puke my body denies it and I can’t. During the time when I felt really really really tired and my day shrunk to 5 fully valued hours I was thinking that maybe I should use those moments when I m not moving just lying in the bed and start writing about pregnancy. But that was a bad idea, which I realized within one hour. I am just not the type. Up to now we ignored all the pregnancy books, shops for babies, internet pregnancy forums…I was for very long – till the last possible moment ignoring pregnancy clothes which I find terribly unesthetical. ( I do have some pregnancy shirts already as I am really growing bigger and bigger every day ) Well what should I than write about in terms of pregnancy. I just took it as a fact and as soon as I felt my energy coming back I lived my days as before. Finished semester in Vienna, packed all my belongings to boxes and send them on a trip with Mr.B to exotic place called Warszaw. I did a major cleaning of the flat I lived in for almost 6 years, which included washing huge glass doors and wall panels. I survived and accident when one of those glass doors fell out of the door runner rail and 200kg fell straight on me, my belly and tree huge flowerpots that kept the door 40 cm above the ground so I could “easily” crawl from below them. Simply said I did everything as before apart from continuing my blog. I could not because I felt that I should probably write something about our changing life situation but I was not sure what should that be. Now I’m sitting in Warszaw. It took me two weeks, to unpack, organize, clean, organize, clean and organize all the crap one collects. Mr.B is out of town working, Mr.T is slowed down as he thinks it’s to hot and I am pregnant just as I was one or three months ago. But I just felt that it’s a point for me to start blogging again, to start doing whatever again as time goes by really fast and I don’t have much left before giving birth to Mr.Little who as I heard might be sort of time consuming at the beginning. To begin with after the long break I’ll just post a mix of photos from last months. Sorry to those of you who’ve seen them on instagram….but did I mention already that pregnancy sort of paralyzed me for some time and I was not taking consciously any photos…….

PS1: I want to thank to all of you who still follow me on FB page even though I was not active for past months. I want to thank veeeerrrry much to all those who wrote me private messages and who probably did not even realize how important that was for me….reading that people appreciate things I do in the time when I don’t do any is really crazy helping !!!!!

PS2: There are two polish words I can’t stand from the bottom of my heart : ciężarna – which is the same as if somebody called me ciężarowka, which I know I am but don’t have to be reminded of that. dzidziuś – thats really disaster

PS3: I had to add this one as an explanation. I was asked why I’m ignoring literature about pregnancy…..OMG don’t get me wrong..It’s by far not because I am super hero woman who thinks its cool to not ready pregnancy books or read forums and has all the necessary wisdom and knowledge. ON THE CONTRARY, I am freaking out from how much I don’t know….I don’t know when kids start to talk or walk, if somebody told me that this miracles happens at the age of 3 I would completely take it as fact just as much as I would take it as a fact if somebody told me that one year old people discuss, walk and pee in the toilette. If I am to say the age of a child I use a hand gesture showing the kids approximate hight because I cant say if the kid is two or four….I’m not joking now…I have not been around small kids very often, actually I’ve met some person to person only couple of times in my life. So I’m not a hero here, but I DO HATE how pregnant woman becomes automatically a separate category. Its not female and male anymore. It’s female, male and pregnant woman! And based on my seven months experience I do feel I know what I’m talking about. First it starts with the shock that people you hardly know, people you’ve seen once or twice in your life, people who know your mother or people who you don’t know at all approach you and touch your belly first. WHY? It’s like my belly was not part of me anymore…it is some sort of public belonging, it’s something that has been mounted to my body and I am now to carry it but it belongs to everybody. Than it continues when you stand in the line in the shop checking out the veggies waiting for your happy turn, and there they go, all the women who are waiting in the same line start to talk about you. Is it a boy, is it a girl, how you should dress, what you should eat, what you should drink and how your belly looks. It is up, it is down, it is sticking out too much or it is spreading more to the sides. And u are standing there with this public property mounted to your body, you are sweating like crazy, you need to pee NOW and you know you still have couple of months of this “being a subject” situation ahead of you. And the last thing that gets you is the literature. Why is it that pregnant means automatically usage of different language….probably it is meant as a preparation for small baby talks…don’t know…but suddenly the use of diminutives is massive and everything becomes pink or blue, its all about how you should feel, how the confused future daddy should feel, how you are not you anymore but you are a kangaroo – soon to be a mother – new category again, how you stop existing because you are about to bring a new person to the world which means that for some time you are vanishing and you are not important anymore….All sort of strange new words that I’ve never heard before are used to describe your little one – meaning the new person that grows inside of you, all sorts of things you NEED to – in better case – know….but most of the time fear. All the things you NEED to buy, such blanket, such chair, such electronic babysitter or maybe breathing baby monitor or, or, or…..Pregnancy stops being natural and becomes a commodity. That is why I ignore pregnancy literature….I sort of believe in my body’s natural potential and ability to deal with pregnancy, and in mine that I will be able to deal with the newborn kid and I will not need to spend thousands on necessary items that will become unnecessary thrash in couple of months and I do hope that my ability to speak common language will remain more or less the same.
  

 

back to the woods

back to the woods

  

yesterday was finally the day after a long long winter that I could enjoy outside….not in the park but in the wood, seeing no people, hearing no disturbing sounds of cars, bicycles, telephones…I loved it…it made me feel so clam….last days I m starting to feel better…no more 20 hours sleep a day, no more stomach aches….but I think the less I feel physical pain the more its getting on my “head” :) I’ve been going thorough our blog archives looking at the memories of the time we spent together – Mr.B, Mr.T and I ….I felt so nostalgic…I know its never gonna be the same again..of course something new is coming…but as I never had kids before and for last 20 years there was no babies in my close family, this new reality that is waiting for us is so abstract that even if trying hard I can’t imagine what its gonna be like, how its gonna feel…for now all I feel is sort of a ending to one part of a story…I’ve realized that its been just tree of us till now and that we were doing pretty well..most of the time in no need to connect to world around…

  

couple of days ago Mr.B wrote me a short email saying: ” I really liked our trip to japan. i fell like we were only people there and the rest of them they were just background. love “…I just loved it because that is pretty much how the last four years felt like …..

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

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I don't want my life to be a reason for other's life to be a suffering that is why I am vegan and that is how I want to raise my son. I love my little family, birds, rainy days and life on the road. I believe in life before death :).


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