July - December 2003
Start at Diary Part One
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Christmas Eve, Wednesday, 2003
It is almost impossible to believe we are facing a second Christmas without Kessia. The lead up has been relatively calm, with our focus being on giving Joshua a great Christmas, but it is difficult. Geoff isn't sure how he'll get through, his emotions are beginning to ride close to the surface, whereas much of mine were dissipated during the many aimless shopping trips I made - I was often close to tears when I saw something Kessia would have loved - pretty hair clips, girly makeup, groovy clothes, etc. I am still unable to "enjoy" shopping as I once did, choices are still overwhelming, and I often return home empty-handed feeling exhausted after not achieving anything.
We feel Joshua too is dealing with Christmas in his own way, and processing more about Kessia's death. Over the last few weeks he has been incredibly restless at night again, waking regularly and crying. He has made several comments, such as "it's just not the same without Kessia". He can't sleep at night because he misses her too much, but I finally had to explain to him that late at night wasn't a good time to talk about missing Kessia. So recently, I've tried to engage with him during the day about how he's missing her. I asked, "When you miss Kessia, how does it make you feel inside?". Josh thought for a moment, made a sad, sad little face and just pointed to his heart and said "Ouchy". Another occasion I asked what he misses about Kessia. His reply: "Everything".
But in this update I also wanted to include some uplifting moments which have mostly been shared with us from others, which I hope they won't mind.
On one recent shopping trip I was stopped by a woman I did not know. She was the mother of a school friend of Kessia's, who Kessia had only really known for a few weeks at her new school. So this beautiful person stopped me to say how wonderful it was to see me pregnant and how not a day goes by when she did not think of our family or of Kessia. We ended hugging several times in tears and all I could manage to say over and over was "Thank you". I can't explain why that little meeting was so precious, perhaps it was in helping me find my tears for Kessia, or being touched by the genuine and open sympathy from this person we did not know.
The other little stories I wanted to share happened directly in the days following Kessia's death.
Kessia's Uncle Paul was walking early the morning after Kessia died on Mount Jerrabomberra. He told us how he had a little visit from Kessia who was excitedly testing out her angel wings and zipping about the place happily. He had a sense that she was bouncing around and dropping in on people who she knew to show off her new skills to.
Another very dear friend who had spent several early mornings with Josh and Kessia so Geoff and I could rest, told us this story. The night Kessia died, she awoke to the sound of a child's footsteps. Thinking it was their young daughter, she got up to investigate. Her child was asleep, but as she stood there with a cool breeze blowing, suddenly a warmth swept over her and, if I recall rightly, a sweet smell, and instintively she knew it was Kessia coming to thank her.
At Kessia's funeral, some of our core people, Kate and Michael, sang some lovely songs. Later, Kate told me how she had an incredible sense of Kessia being there, and being happy and free.
The last story I wanted to relate is about the day Kessia died, and the little miracle of everyone that we needed descending on our house like a sudden army - some planned visits, others instinctively felt a need to drive over - everyone arriving within a half hour from all over town.
About the time Kessia suddenly took a turn for the worse and the downward spiral and rising panic began to set in, we had Tom with us. Otherwise the house was unusually quiet. Josh had spent the night with my sister Fiona. Michael had spent the night with us, but had gone out for the morning.
We could not have survived that time without Michael, he knew what we needed before we even did. So the first person Tom called was Michael. Literally the next minute Michael was standing in the bedroom - he had been pulling into our drive when Tom called.
The second call was to Fiona and Mirko to say Josh had to come home. I felt it was all happening and I wanted Josh to be nearby to say good-bye to Kessia. Again, they were minutes away in their car when they received the call and Josh was home much to my relief. He bounded in and out of the room, giving Kessia kisses and checking in every now and then on how things were going. In his own way, he was able to be a part of it all.
The rest is a bit of a blur. Kate and Michael were out that morning, but Kate felt a compelling need to drive over and they arrived about then too. I asked someone to call our doctor, Mary, who again was found on a Sunday morning and was there when we needed her. I asked for my mum and dad, and I'm not sure how it happened, but they arrived not long after - they live half an hour outside of town and had not visited us often due to dad's ill health. They were suddenly there, as was my brother Andrew and sister Brenda, with I think her two kids.
Everyone who we needed and who could be there was. It felt right. I don't remember feeling afraid, but rather, Geoff and I had a sense of being in control, albeit the turmoil and rush that was happening around Kessia at the time. We were literally fighting for her life, but I remember at one point looking about the room and feeling that everyone who was important was there, and again, how right that felt.
Later, as Geoff and I held Kessia in bed and she gently passed from this life into a glorious world of rainbows and butterflies, the sound of the gathered throng outside in our yard wafted through the window, and they were sounds of children laughing and playing.
So I'll leave you with those memories and wish you all a peaceful Christmas.
A full two months have passed since I last updated this web site. Part of it was because our computer was down and it took us a long time to get it fixed. The other is that I haven't had the energy, emotional or otherwise, to face sitting down and writing about how I am and how we are going.
The first anniversary of Kessia's death has been and gone. As we have learnt from other milestones without Kessia --- last Christmas, her birthday, our birthdays, etc --- the anticipation of the event is usually more intense than the day itself. On 2 Nov we gathered with our families at Kessia's garden and had a picnic. Kessia's fairy songs played in the background while the younger kids amused themselves running about the cemetery. Geoff organised eight helium balloons (Kessia would have been eight years old) on which we all scribbled messages and released them with a sense of satisfaction as they disappeared into the clouds beyond sight.
Monday 3 November, the anniversary of Kessia's death, Geoff, Joshua and I drove to the south coast for a five day break. We couldn't think of any signifcant way to mark the day, and figured Kessia loved going to the coast and to my family's place in Dalmeny and that was as good a thing to do that day than any. Several times during the drive Geoff and I cried.
At about the time that Kessia actually died, we were parked on a headland overlooking the beach on a windy but sunny afternoon. It felt good to be near the ocean, and I expectantly waited to see a school of dolphins leap up before me, but nothing that romantic occured to mark the moment. Geoff and Josh had scurried down a path to the beach where they played for a while exploring rock pools. I called out to Geoff it was time to leave, and as I watched the spot waiting for them to reappear at the top of the path, I had the strongest sense of Kessia emerging instead. She walked to the table where I was sitting and I reached out to hug her. It is perhaps the first time I have "imagined" her so strongly.
The week away was the most relaxing time we have had all year. Three nights before we left for the coast, on Friday, Joshua had an ear infection which suddenly escalated into a perforated eardrum. I had taken him to the doctor's that morning and his ear drum burst a few hours later. The doctor advised us to take him to emergency, so on Friday evening we found ourselves in hospital once more. We were there for four hours, three of those waiting. Josh was an angel. It was the last place Geoff and I wanted to be. Too many hospital memories... The upshot was Josh was unable to swim for the week we were at the coast, but we filled our times with walks and outings and being together peacefully.
The other event coinciding with the anniversary of Kessia's death was being able to announce my pregnancy. Following my earlier miscarriage, we were reluctant to tell anyone of my being pregnant until the first 12 weeks had passed. That day was 3 November. I'm now 15 weeks. The pregnancy came as a surprise as we had decided to put off baby plans for six months or so. But as these things normally happen, I became pregnant almost immediately!
I have irrational fears for this baby. I fear still about a late miscarriage, or that it won't be born healthy. I fear I will want every and any drug available and become hysterical and demand a caesarian to avoid labour pain. If we both survive the birth, I fear cot-death. I hope my irrationality will pass in due time.
Joshua has been just wonderful about the baby. His initial "I only want a baby if it can be an eight year old girl named Kessia" has melted into a "Hello Baby!" as he pulls up my top and kisses my belly and hugs the baby morning and night. He already has names choosen: Carys Praprika Leigh McConnell (Carys after a girl he likes in class, Praprika after a cartoon character in Blue's Clues - the daughter of Mr Salt and Mrs Pepper, and Leigh was Kessia's middle name) and Zach Shark Attack McConnell (humm, not quite sure of an explanation for this one! Zach was after Zachary, which Geoff and I had picked out as our first boy's name, with Kessia our girl's choice).
Geoff and I are still freaking out about the prospect of a baby. We're too old and tired for a baby! What are we going to do with a baby?! How are we ever going to cope with a baby? We'd much rather have Kessia. As soon as I thought that yesterday, I realised that was only partly true. This baby will never be a replacement for Kessia and never intended to be a replacement. Geoff and I just need another little person to love and share our lives with. We want to be four again. Four plates on the table. Four seats on the next plane out. Four is right for us.
Last weekend we went to a memorial at Taronga Zoo hosted by Sydney Children's Hospital to remember all the children who have passed away who received treatment at the cancer unit. We're glad we made the effort to attend, to be in a room with other families who have experienced similar tragedy and loss. There were many tears shed and it felt good to be able to cry for other people and for ourselves.
We saw two people who we met briefly last year. One was a doctor who was the head of the oncology department, a very compassionate man whose gentleness touched us. He greeted us and remembered us from our short stay, as did the hospital chaplain who we met only for a few minutes as we were leaving the hospital to return to Canberra.
The memorial is held every two years, and the timing of this one was quite uncanny as it coincided with our stay at the hospital a year ago. So being in Sydney for a few days brought back many memories: driving by Darling Harbour and seeing the spot where the special taxi dropped us off to visit the aquarium, with Kessia in her wheelchair, on a day out from the hospital. From the monorail, seeing spots where we wheeled her about and walked over a bridge, exactly this time last year. Reliving our days at the hospital... of how Kessia almost died on the afternoon of my birthday, then was close to dying that evening, her heartbeat and breathing slowing enough for the nurses to ask us if we wanted them to call a priest. Of making the choice of how we wanted our beloved child to finally "pass away" by filling out a form with details regarding "Do Not Resusitate".
I remember these times as if through a thick fog, or as if I am
submerged in water. There is a cloudiness and heaviness that threaten to swamp
me. I struggle to breathe.
This evening, Joshua began singing a song in the bath tub. He makes up lots of songs at the moment, and this one is one of his best. I scribbled it down afterwards. It's all his words, his title, and his own tune which is very lovely. The words are beautiful, and I find remarkable for someone who is not yet six.
Where abouts am I?
I just don't know where I am
Just where abouts am I?
I don't even know where I am.
Where abouts is heaven?
I don't know where it is
I think its above the clouds
That's where Kessia is.
I think I might know where I
am
I think that I'm in heaven
I'm in heaven with Kessia
Kessia and I are in heaven.
Where abouts am I?
Where abouts am I?
Where abouts am I?
I'm in heaven with Kessia.
The past week has been very flat emotionally. Geoff and Josh have been sick all week, and with me starting work we are all tired and finding our way about our new routines, etc.
Kessia's absence is as strong as ever. I continue to feel she is lost and will be returned home to us soon. Someone just has to find the big mistake and make it all better. Someone has to bring Kessia home to us.
At times like this, I think no matter what we do, no matter how much we achieve and look to the positives, we're running an empty race, a battle we've already lost, for we no longer have Kessia. Nothing we do can ever get us our old lives back. We will never be a whole family. We will never be the people we were. We will forever spend our lives grappling with an enormous, gaping wound in our hearts, with the added strain of trying to appear normal and lead a productive life.
It's been over nine months since Kessia died. We barely have any
friends who continue to support us in our grief --- who ask us about Kessia,
that mention her name. We have very few people who ask how we are going without
our beloved child. Even fewer --- two in fact --- who show us regularly how
much they care and share in our grief, who allow us our tears and heartache.
Two people who sit with us, cry with us, and talk about the awfulness of Kessia's
death, our tragic loss, and our grief.
Today is my younger brother's Ed's birthday. Ed lives in Montreal, Canada with his wife Christine and two sons, Caleb and Ethan. Happy birthday Ed!
I went for a job interview quite a while back and found out last Friday afternoon that I got the position. It is ideal in every way --- close to home and school, part-time hours, and work I will be able to get my mind into. However it also means a lot less time to progress KessiaCare things and a new stage in my life --- I haven't worked for 6 years and it will be quite a shock to the system.
Anyway, I started today. Quite without thinking I said I'd be able to start this week, and had a few days in a spin getting organised! It's my first forray into the "real world" since Kessia died, being surrounded by new people, a totally new environment, no one knowing any of my history... a perfect opportunity to reinvent myself in some way. So I had decided not to tell anyone about Kessia until I felt ready, in the right circumstances. But of course, I always botch up my decisions. Within half an hour of meeting two very nice people in my work area and going for a coffee, and talking about Josh, I was asked, "Oh, so do you have one or two children?" I always feel it is such a betrayal to say, "Just the one" or "I have a boy..." and not finish the sentence. So with a little hesitation I proceeded with my routine: "I have a 5 1/2 yr old boy, Joshua, and a 7 1/2 yr old daughter, Kessia, who died last year." At which point I usually overtalk. I'll have to find some quiet time with my work colleagues to apologise blurting that out to them and putting them on the spot.
Here's our main article from the Bellarine Echo about the Open Day. The text on the right dropped off the scanner, as did a small photo of Geoff, but the main gist of it is here.
This photo seems a strange choice but the reason I like it so much is because
it gives a sense of Kessia being alive and active, full of energy. She's all
a blur because she's moving so fast and her beaded braids are flying out around
her.
Kessia loved parks and playgrounds. Her eyes would light up and off she'd race, yelling "C'mon Josh!" as soon as we got there. She usually headed to the monkey bars and one of her proudest playground achievements was being able to cross the entire length, one hand after the other, without falling off. She also loved swinging --- standing up or on her tummy over the seat part.
Kessia
mastering the monkey bars at the park that Geoff built.
This set of photos below continue in a similar vein. Kessia loved climbing trees and became extremely dextrous and agile.Here she is in various of her favourite trees or ones she just came across and scooted up.
Below left. One of Kessia's favourite trees because it was right next to the pool at Le Meridien. It was her upside-down swinging tree, the tree that her and Josh would find shiny blue stink-bugs on, and the tree they would swing in while Geoff and I lazed by the pool in the beach chairs.
This photo shows Kessia in her second favourite tree, behind the Rossi Restaurant.
(Her No. 1 favourite tree was a huge banyon tree out at Blue Waters Resort where
we used to go for weekends away every now and then.)
This tree on the left was a big favourite with all the kids. And a huge hit with the mums and dads who could have coffee in peace while their kids were out the back climbing all over it!
Kessia taught Josh how to climb this tree, showed him all her little secret footholds and helped him along and upwards (in so many ways...). Our leisurely coffees soon became interspersed with having to rescue Josh when he got too hight, often!
More photos of Kessia up trees! The two here were in trees at the waterfront
park, along the harbour in Port Vila.
This is where we would sometimes picnic or have fish and chips. It was about
the only place in Vila with a pathway that the kids could ride their bikes on
(along the waterfront). At the end of the park was the open air market house,
which was empty on Sundays. It was the best place to learn how to scooter and
bike ride for the kids.
Mood swings are a bizarre thing. Its both incredible and frightening how often and fast they can happen. We have been home one week now, and we seem to have snapped out of our despondency. Last week was difficult. Geoff and I were both flat, unwell, energyless, and mostly, just sad.
But now, we seem to be in a good place. It started on the weekend when we made a big effort to replant Kessia's garden at the cemetary. Most of our weekend was spent buying plants, potting mix, a few mossy rocks and new planting tubs, and then ($400 later!) spending the time digging them in. I didn't mind spending the money because I'd rather have a pretty garden for Kessia than a big plaque that costs double that amount.
Both days we packed a little picnic and spent a few hours in the freezing cold creating a new garden. We managed to get it all done, Josh being a great and enthusiastic helper. While we are out there, I'm in 'space'. I don't really think of anything but feel content. Geoff on the other hand, has moments which he describes as a "white hot poker searing through his body" when he stops to think about why we're out at the cemetary planting a little garden.
Today Geoff and I went out in his lunch time to water the new plants and dig in a few new flowers. We talked about how well we're doing together, and how doing things like Kessia's garden has nurtured us in some small way. The decisions we continue to make probably don't make much sense to anyone else, like buying Kessia's grave plot for $20,000 instead of a smaller one for $2,500, or sinking our life savings into Rainbow Cottage, but they are important to us, and probably a large reason as to why we are pretty "together" all round.
This is how Kessia's garden has grown:
The plaque I made for Kessia's garden (which is now due to be replaced after
6 months of weathering).
The garden on 11 November, three days after Kessia's burial (above)
Kessia's Garden on 21 November (right),
after we added the corner strawberry planters for a bit of colour --- Kessia
would have really liked them.
The garden in early December (below).
The garden on Christmas Day when many of the flowers were in bloom (above left).
Denise and Josh doing some planting on the weekend, 27 July (above). We bought four big blue planters to replace the strawberry pots because they were too small and dried out too quickly.
The almost-finished garden (left). We've built it up a bit higher with some rocks so it has a few levels for us to plant flowers and shrubs. Today I planted some pretty pink pansies and yellow daisies.
Two things have been on my mind lately. Firstly, that I talk about the aftermath of Kessia's death and how we are coping without her, more than I talk about Kessia and what she was like and how alive and vibrant she was. This was one of the points made in the remarkably beautiful book, "The Disappearance" by Genevieve Jurgensen. She lost her two girls to a drunk driver in a car crash, and years later writes to an acquaintance aiming to convince him that her girls really did exist, were flesh and blood and here.
I want to try and do the same, mostly for my own sake. As with most, if not all of this diary, I write for myself. And I realise I spend so much time NOT remembering Kessia and our life with her because it's easier, less painful. I am still in self-protection mode, my mind almost totally closed to remembering her. I said to Geoff just last night that if I let myself go and thought of Kessia in all her fullness, I think I'd go insane with the pain of missing her.
So the second thing that's been on my mind is wanting to write little stories about Kessia, to record the everyday memories that pop into my head. And I hope it will lead me to being more open to "letting myself go" and to remember and grive at a different level.
Last night I sat and edited several hundred photos on our PC. They were photos from Christmas onwards, ones I haven't had time to tidy up and file away properly until now. I have several thousand to go! At the end, Geoff and I sat and watched a slideshow of Kessia's "Best Of" photos, a serious of over 100 photos collected over the past two years (since we got our digital camera). Ever since Kessia was born, we've had a "Best Of" album of her photos. We've continued that with our digital photos --- best of Kessia, best of Joshua, best of family, etc.
Living overseas was such a blessing for us --- I was talking about it to my dear friend Andrea this morning. She lives in New Jersey, USA and we've communicated via the internet since Kessia was diagnosed, forming a close friendship and very special bond. Anyway during our very lovely converstation (our first ever in person!) I talked about all the photos and video footage we have of the kids in Port Vila over the last three years because we pretty muched documented everything to show family back home. And now, we have a brilliant record of our everyday lives from that period, much more so than if we had remained in Canberra where the camera only comes out for special occassions.
So I thought a great way to help trigger my memory is to choose a few of my favourite photos and talk about them.
This is one of our very first photos of Kessia after I bought our digital camera
on an overseas trip in September 2001.
We just clicked off a whole bunch of photos at home, and I love this photo because it captures Kessia being just naturally beautiful and radiant and happy. She was 6 1/2 in this photo.
When we saw this photo last night, Geoff said he loved it because this is how Kessia was most of the time --- smiling with a bit of cheekiness just around the corners... she loved telling jokes and spent a lot of time making them up and refining her talents (which she needed!). Josh was her Number One fan --- he has taken on the Kessia McConnell Joke Telling Legacy :-)))).
27
September 2001 (right)
This photo was taken at Le Legon pool, very near where we lived, and makes me smile whenever I look at it. Kessia was mucking around doing funny little dances and trying to make me laugh --- here she was sticking out her tummy and doing a little 'rumba' with her arms and swishing her bottom from side to side.
I think it was also one of the first times she was wearing her new swimmers given to her by her cousins for her birthday. She really liked them and had wanted me to buy her a bikini next. We looked for a set a few times but never found any that were suitable or in colours that she liked. Which were pink and purple at the time.
This photo was taken on the same day. I love this profile shot of Kessia. It
really shows how pretty she is but even more so, it shows that her profile has
not changed since her ultrasound photo inutero at 6 months or so!! Geoff and
I are astounded that from "minus-six months" of age, Kessia's profile
has never changed.
I also love how well this photo shows Kessia's long hair. She loved her hair long. She was never fussy about her hair and most often went to school with yesterday's ponytail. But we had lots of girl-times together when I would French braid her hair or plait it with ribbons. A few years ago, Geoff bought Kessia a book that was to become one of her favourites, "Hair Braiding". She would spend ages looking at each of the different photos of girls with braids of one sort or another and pick out the ones for us to try. I'm ashamed to say we only tried a few --- Kessia had really wanted me to triple braid her hair with different coloured ribbons and we did that only a couple of times.
Most often she liked ponytails for school. She was very proud
when she learnt how to do them herself. I was very impressed since I hadn't
taught her, and even more impressed when she taught herself how to plait. 
Kessia's
favourite hairstyle soon became a ponytail pulled back, with a few strands in
the front that she'd leave aside to plait and hang down the front of her face,
and beaded on the end. 
I
was forever trying to tuck that little plait behind her ear or making her plait
it on the side! She also loved having her hair totally braided and beaded for
holidays --- she would normally leave the braids (cornrows) in for a month or
two and loved her hair frizzy when they were taken out.
Washing Kessia's hair was a joy. She loved how silky smooth it was after conditioning, and we'd ooh and ahh around her. She only really started having showers and washing her hair on her own from when she was 7, otherwise it was usually her and Joshua in the bath together with me supervising nearby, so I almost always washed her hair. It was always a little game to see just how silky we could get it. Rinsing her hair and feeling its silky weight, its glossy darkness in my fingers is another lost joy to me.
I took Josh to the park after school today and at one point he was pushing an empty swing and said he was pushing Kessia :-). We chatted and laughed about him pushing Kessia and how much fun she was having. Josh said she was very light so it was easy to push her. Then he said she was watching from heaven and taking turns swinging with Josh.
This morning we finished the last of the medical things about the miscarriage, after final ultrasounds and blood tests. While we were near the hospital I remembered to go in to the Birthing Centre where I had registered a few weeks ago to take my name off the list. The midwife was so lovely it was the first time Geoff and I got a little teary about the miscarriage.
While we were waiting at the clinic, Geoff commented on what nice kids we have. For some reason or another, we just seem to produce beautiful looking and lovely children, which isn't biased in any way (perhaps just a little :-))). We talked about how both Josh and Kessia have such wonderful manners, are happy, nice kids that are clever, and who we feel very proud of. Nothing to do with our parenting!
Joshua said a prayer last night. His first prayer in over 6 months, and it was beautiful. It was something like "Dear God, I pray that Kessia is happy in heaven and that she has lots of new friends, and that she won't get sick again and die, and that she will always love me. Amen."
You can't get more perfect than that.
Joshua was also very sweet today. We were very pleased for him that he was elected onto the Student Representative Council (SRC) as one of the kindergarten reps! We told him he should be very proud of himself because that meant the other kids thought he had good ideas and liked him and thought he was sensible :-)). He asked if Kessia had been in the SRC. We said no because they didn't have it in Port Vila and she wasn't at Campbell Primary very long, and maybe she would have been or may be not. Josh said that he would be in the SRC for him AND Kessia.
Tonight he wrote a poem for class tomorrow. He avoided doing the poem-segment on his talk day all last term, so we were really pleased he wanted to try to do one for tomorrow. This is his poem which is entirely his words and idea.
I LOVE
by Joshua McConnell
I love Kessia
I love Mum
I love Lollipop and
I love Dad.
Kessia loves me
Mum loves me
Lollipop loves me and
Dad loves me.
I love flowers
I love balloons
I love plants and
I love blocks.
We returned on Saturday night. Our fortnight away was rather tumultuous, mostly because of my state of health. Coupled with being pregnant...
Geoff and I decided last month to try for another baby. A totally irrational decision and one we weren't entirely sure about, but decided to "give it a go" nonetheless. "Let's just see what happens..." were our famous last words because I became pregnant almost immediately!
For those who have been reading my web diary I mentioned previously my first pregnancy was an ectopic pregnancy. There were fears this pregnancy also was an ectopic so from the first day I found out I was pregnant, I have been for numerous blood tests, ultrasounds and trips to the hospital. The hospital visits were emotionally difficult as memories of Kessia being very sick and dying came flooding back. This was all at the same time that I was extremely sick and had to go to hospital for suspected pleurisy.
It was also the same time that I was trying to finish the stats report for the brain tumour advocacy group and get things done for the Open Day at Rainbow Cottage --- preparing information sheets for handouts, writing letters to MPs, creating signs for the Open Day, etc, etc, etc.
Whilst down in Ocean Grove my tests continued and after further blood tests and ultrasounds we finally found out on 14 July that the pregnancy was inutero and not an ectopic. We all felt relieved and happy. But following our highly successful Open Day, I miscarried and the day ended up on a very sad note for us.
We're fine emotionally about it. I was 6 wks pregnant and we had been really happy and excited (in between freaking out a lot!!), even managed to find time inbetween everything to get carried away and buy baby things and maternity wear on sale. But it's OK --- it's relatively nothing compared to Kessia dying.
We were worried most for Josh who had been to the last few ultrasounds and been very excited about the prospect of a new brother or sister. We'd explained sufficiently that it might not happen if the "full-stop dot baby" as we'd been calling it (one of his life cycles books talked about babies starting off about the size of a full stop) wasn't in the right place. He kept asking "is it in the right place yet?" and after the last ultrasound we could say "Yes!". The night before the miscarriage, Josh crawled into bed with me and asked if we could have a chat. "Sure!" I said, "What would you like to chat about?" He thought for a while and said, "Let's talk about names for the baby!" and then proceeded to reel off a list of made up names that went something like this: Lilla, Lolla, Lyla, Losha, Locka, etc. It was very sweet.
The day before the Open Day it was grey, cold and blowy. Storms threatened thoughout the day. That night it rained continually. As I walked about the house the next morning, putting the final touches in place, seeing how much we had achieved and how beautiful the place looked, the sun broke through and poured into the main bedroom which was set up with the single bed decked out in a fairy doona and other Kessia things. I stopped to cry as I felt Kessia all about, giving us her stamp of approval.
At 11.30am, Thelma, Joyce and Clarice arrived with trays of cakes and slices baked by a group of friends, and took control of setting up for the sausage sizzle, tea and coffee. They were a wonderful support all day.
From noon til about 2.30pm it was all go. We had hoped for around 20 people, but had braced ourselves for even less. By the end of the day, we had some 40 people come through the cottage
.
Our whole idea for the open day was for people to see the cottage first hand and get a sense of what we were about. Ideally, we hoped for a good turnout from service providers who were in direct contact with seriously ill families, and we got our wish. We had representatives from the Leukaemia Foundation, Very Special Kids, Geelong Hospital, Ronald McDonald House at the Monash Medical Centre, and Bellarine Palliative Care. Other visitors with contacts at the Peter McCallum Cancer Institute and Royal Children's Hospital, Melbourne have undertaken to inform them of the cottage. We also had local business people, neighbours and community groups such as the Lions Club, YWCA and Cancer After Care.
Geoff and I felt the day was a huge success, in large part measured by the overwhelmingly positive, enthusiastic and supportive response we received from those attending. So many people were taken by the place, by the colours, the atmosphere and general peacefulness. Most were blown away by the many different aspects the cottage had to offer --- the pool, playground, games room, etc. Several people were moved to tears, which touched us deeply.
Another measure of success of the day, and a totally unexpected one for us, was the sum of donations we've received as a direct result of people seeing the house and understanding our dream:
So all up, we have over $7,000 as a result of our Open Day. We also made great profits on our sausage sizzle! We only sold 30 (40 sausages were donated by Mark and Yvonne from Ocean Grove Butcher) and made $130!! People were very generous.
A quick note to say we are heading down to Kessia's Cottage today for two weeks. For those interested, I may try to add short updates on the GUESTBOOK page because that's the only one I can add to when I'm away from my computer.
We had an eventful week mostly due to my illness (bad flu). I was in hospital Thursday night wiht a suspected case of pleurisy. The doctor sent me for an x-ray and ECG, and I had plenty of time to think about the last times we were in that area of the hospital - when Geoff took Kessia to emergency and the doctors thought she had meningitis (but it was the brain tumour suddenly taking hold and making her almost comatose), and then when we went back for Kessia's MRI.
I hadn't remembered about that day until I was wheeled past there on Thursday night. The x-ray room is near the MRI rooms. I suddenly pictured Geoff and I sitting in that little room waiting and fervently praying that all would be well. Actually, now that I recall, our minds were total blanks. We weren't praying at all. As the time ticked past the initial 20 mins they told us it would be, we began to get more worried. AFter an hour went by, we began to think "Is someone going to come and tell us something?". Kessia was eventually in there for one and three quarter hours. I don't know how Geoff and I could have been so naive as to have expected good news at the end of it all.
And I remember taking Kessia to the MRI room. We hadn't really explained what was going to be happening because we had talked at some lenght with the doctor about making sure she was under general anaethetic before she was wheeled into the room with the big, scary looking machine. We had been told they would give her the general in another room with her on my lap, and that it would all be very quick and she wouldn't be aware of the MRI in any way. But, no. Not only did they not put her under a general in a separate room, they wheeled her straight into the MRI room where Geoff and I weren't allowed in, and I couldn't hold her while they gave her the general. We weren't even allowed to stay in the room next door so she could see our faces before going under. I hate that that happened, and that we weren't able to reassure Kessia in any way.
I haven't seen our counsellor for ages but Geoff had a visit over a month ago now. I was wanting to write about it at the time and only remembered about it recently.
Our counsellor works out of a different office on Fridays, so Geoff went to this other place for the first time. He said as he arrived, he almost couldn't go inside because in the same office was the doctor who had delivered Kessia - he saw the names outside the door. So it was quite surreal for him to be sitting in one room talking about his dead daughter, while in the room next door was the person who had brought her into this world.