You either survive - or you don't…

Andrew and I were asked to do a talk at Natey's school last night as part of a fund raising dinner they hosted. The theme was 'An evening of Inspiration'.

Andrew spoke at length and in detail about our journey and the practical steps we have taken and learnings we have had on the way. We also had a slide show of about 120 photos of moments in our journey over the past 3-4 years.

I spoke first, this is the talk I gave:

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People tend say you are brave or inspirational when you survive something. The truth is you aren't, or at least I don't think I am.

I think bravery is choosing to do something really difficult or scary. When you are thrust into that position, it doesn't feel like bravery at all. But when tragedy strikes you, I guess then you only have 2 choices; you either survive - or you don't…

The fact is that time marches forward whether you want it to or not, and so you have no option but to move forward too.

I lost my first child - a tiny very premature little girl Angelique - born too early 20 years ago, in a bungle of bad practise in a state hospital.

Nathaniel’s birth many years later healed me and brought the trauma of Angelique's birth to a momentous circular close with an amazing calm home water-birth. There was no one else there, just myself (and Andrew) as he was born into my arms.

When he then died at home at 2 just years old, it was also in water, and again with no one else there just me - alone this time. That circle of healing and completion shattered open again. It shook the very core and foundation of who I was and made me doubt everything I knew. How could that have happened? How could the most beautiful, perfect and cherub-like little boy be gone so quickly and so incomprehensibly? It just made no sense.

So there I was, having lost not just one but two of my dear, longed for and much loved children... How does one carry on from that??

Honestly, I don’t think I have any profound truths or insights, and the fact is it is hard and it hurts a LOT. But in both of these great loses of my life, I have been almost immediately very aware that they can either break you or strengthen you. And somehow being broken and to give up, doesn't seem like a good way to honour my children. I almost feel obligated to live on, to do well, and more-so to do GOOD, because they can't.

And I do think it's a choice. But it's not an easy choice & to some extent anyone who suffers such a loss is ‘broken’. However for me, I felt I had to live on and live well FOR them.

In dealing with Angelique's death, birthing became my passion. I learned everything I could about pregnancy and birth and for a better way to bring a child into the world. I studied to be a doula and started volunteering at Mowbray Maternity so I could to assist and empower the helpless and scared moms there to have better, less scary and traumatic births. I did this as a way to make Angelique's life matter and to try to ensure that no one else had to endure a traumatic and uncompassionate birthing experience.

After Natey died we also wanted to somehow do good. I adopted the hashtag #DoingItForNatey and also #LongDays - which came out of the customary Jewish greeting to mourners of 'I wish you long life'. The sentiment also seemed to inspire my broader circle of friends to do something that scared them or that pushed the boundaries of their capabilities, or to just get out there and LIVE. To make the most of each day!

It was used for a number of initiatives to raise money for charity. 

As an example. A wheelchair-bound friend of mine decided she had no excuse for being unfit and out of shape and so she started exercising and bought a recumbent bicycle and has been training to ride in the Argus next year. Another friend ran her first marathon and  another completed a Half Iron-Man. Others simply said yes when their children wanted to play with them, or went for that picnic on the beach, or had ice-cream for dinner... all #DoingItForNatey.

As for Andrew and I; we also challenged ourselves. We ran races, signed up for the Argus Cycle Tour, competed in the Platteklip Charity Challenge, always #DoingItForNatey.

We also asked people not to spend money on flowers and gifts for us, but rather to donate the money so it could do some good. In this way we all raised about R75 000 for the Red Cross Children’s Hospital and about R15 000 for other charities. 

The message is that life is short, you have no idea how much time you have here… And so you should live your life fully and appreciate what you have, and who you have, while you are here.

Again, I don't think we are special, remarkable, or inspirational (ok well maybe Andrew is, as his generosity of spirit, and capacity to forgive IS remarkable and very inspirational to me), but I think we just decided that we had to try, somehow to take the good, and to try to release the bad.

While losing a child is truly the most awful thing that can happen to you - and it is not something you get over or get better from - we have learned that no matter what, there always is a lot to be grateful for and:

- I am grateful for the immense, and continued love and care of our colleagues, friends and family - and notably this school community who really helped to carry us through those first dark and difficult early weeks.

 - I am grateful for the precious time we had with Natey and the lessons he taught us. To take delight in every day. To marvel and wonder at the smallest of things. To enjoy life's small pleasures. To love freely and with abandon.

- I am grateful for Benjamin. Who has certainly not replaced Natey, or filled the big Natey-shaped hole in our lives. He couldn't do that and shouldn’t. But he has created new hope, new purpose. New love and new inspiration. We are very aware that Benjamin wouldn't be here if Nathaniel hadn't died. It's hard not to feel grateful for that somehow.

In the end, I think it comes down to that while you don't get to choose what will happen to you in your life, you do get to choose how you'll respond, and how you move forward from what does happen. So I try to choose the positive. Not because it is the brave or easy thing to do, but because for me it just feels better that way.

I had a dream...

I have wanted to dream of Natey since he left us. Really wanted to. In fact I was pretty desperate to dream of him. I think I felt like it was a way to still be with him and feel like he was alive. But much as I wanted to, and actually tried to, it never really happened. Eventually I just stopped trying...

We are in the states right now, on a show-and-tell trip along the East Coast, to show off Benjamin to Andrew's family and friends. The big boys are with us too, for their first trip to the States also.

We started in Washington D.C, then drove to the Jersey Shore (Long Beach Island) via Philadelphia, and then we went to New York City. We are now in Westborough (outside of Boston). Then we go on to Florida (near West Palm Beach) and then Chicago.

While in NYC on the last night, I was in those few hours in the summertime between daylight and wake-up time, when you wake-up and realise with relish that you still have time to sleep despite the lightness outside and snuggle down to sleep again.

Anyway, so I drifted off into dream-sleep and in my dream I was trying to go out for a run. I seemed to be on a farm or somewhere like that. It was very dry and dusty, especially further away from what must have been the homesteads. There were paths, and fenced enclosures with dusty ground and short dry grasses or hay. I knew I was trying to head out for a run, but I was missing something and didn't feel ready, I was walking around the paths trying to get organised...

Then I looked into the enclosure alongside where I was and it was filled with little farm animals (little goats maybe) and 'tribal'* children. They were all playing and scampering around. It was equally sweet and sad, because of how dry and desolate it all was. But they seemed happy. Then I noticed the one little boy had curly hair and seemed different to the other children. His skin was lighter and his hair was dusty brown and in big loose curls. And then I saw his hair was actually golden.

It was Natey!!! He was giggling and running and playing, as he would. He was about the same age and size as when he left...

I was so excited to see him, and to know he was ALIVE! And then almost immediately I felt sad and conflicted. My first thought was to grab him and 'rescue' him and smother him in hugs and kisses. But then I thought about how happy and carefree he seemed. Would he even know who I was? If I grabbed him would I scare him? Would it be better to leave him undisturbed? I didn't know what to do. It was such a happy-sad, joyous-conflicted feeling.

And then I woke up. I felt really weird and anxious when I woke up. But just overall 'seeing' him alive, playing carefree and happy with animals and children was somehow heartwarming.

Thank-you for visiting my dreams sweet boy with the unmistakable unruly curls.

* Think little dusty, mostly naked, skinny bushmen children in loin-cloths.

The Crows

From when Natey left us, I started noticing crows, constantly.

They reminded me of him and brought me comfort. Making me smile each time I saw one. They became my 'thing'. Natey's memorial tattoo included 2 crows and I have been gifted 2 beautiful crow necklaces.

The crows seemed to be my constant companions in my journey of trying to navigate life without Natey... But the during the second half of my pregnancy with Benjamin they seemed to be leaving me. I was seeing fewer and fewer. It felt like they were gone.

But now that Benjamin has been born (and I find myself pleasantly distracted and no longer searching the sky for my crow friends) they seem to be back, and quite persistent. I will now frequently have a crow fly right over me as I walk or drive around, and they usually caw loudly as they pass over me...

I can't help but smile and feel like Natey is saying hello to us. Hello my beautiful boy. We love you as much as ever, and still miss you dearly. But we feel less desperately sad and alone now.

xxx
Love Mommy.

Benjamin's Bris as a Photo Video

Benjamin had his bris/brit milah on Sunday 6 May 2018.

"The brit milah (Hebrew: בְּרִית מִילָה‬, pronounced [bʁit miˈla]; Ashkenazi pronunciation: [bʁis ˈmilə], "covenant of circumcision"; Yiddish pronunciation: bris [bʀɪs]) is a Jewish religious male circumcision ceremony performed by a mohel ("circumciser") on the eighth day of the infant's life."

Benjamin's bris was actually held on the 12th day, since the chosen doctor was not available before that.*

Andrew is Jewish, I am not. I am also not really in favour of circumcisions, and this is one of the very few things Andrew and I really disagree on. However, since this was important to Andrew, and he has been so very very supportive, gracious to, and forgiving of me through thick and thin, conceding to his request that Benjamin also have a Jewish bris was really the least I could do.

The bris comprises of 2 main parts, the circumcision (performed by the mohel) and the naming ceremony where the child is presented to the community formally and his name revealed for the first time. We had of course already shared both him and his name (in detail) all over social media*, but his Hebrew names** had not yet been revealed.

The following roles were performed by the listed special people:

• Rabbi: Rabbi Greg Alexander
• Kvatter (person who carries the baby from the parent to the sandek): Paul Rackstraw
• Sandek (person who receives the baby from the Kvatter): Ian Fraser (my father)
• Mohel (performs the circumcision surgery): Dr Gideon Mareski (plastic surgeon)
• Kiddish (prayer over wine): Gary Palmer
• Ha-Motzi (prayer over bread): Mike Cohen

The bris was attended by an array of very special (nearby) friends and family who have been supportive and caring to us over the past few years. We were very grateful for their support on this special, meaningful and very emotional occasion.

I have to say that having witnessed 2 bris ceremonies now, that if you are going to do a circumcision, that this is a very special and meaningful way to do it. I was particularly emotional during this one as we stood watching the same way we'd watched Nathaniel's Bris, with memories of him all around us. I was quite overwhelmed with emotion.

I hope you enjoy the video.



(Photography in the video by Samantha Squire-Howe of Twinkle Star Photography and Leigh Page.)
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* We tend to break traditions a lot!
* I wrote about his Hebrew names here.

Benjamin's First Hours as a photo video

This is a photo video of Benjamin's first couple of hours after birth - the 'golden hours' of bonding - where we welcomed him into our lives and had a first chance to explore each other.

 

I feel so blessed to have this little boy in our lives now and to have the opportunity to love and cherish him. If I have learned nothing else in the past 18 months it is to savour every moment, and appreciate what you have, while you have it. As you never know what tomorrow will bring.

Thank-you for renewing my purpose Benjamin and giving me a new good reason to get out of bed in the morning.

#LiveLongDays
#BabyBenjaminBodhiAchilles
#RememberingNatey
#DoingItForNatey

Benjamin's Birth Story as a photo video

TMI Notice. This is a birth story, with images of birth. View at your own discretion and only if you are comfortable with images of birth.

I created this photo video of Benjamin's birth.

My wish is to normalise and demystify birth. To show that while birth is indeed intense and pretty hard work - which you do need to prepare well for - it does not need to be scary, traumatic, or overly medically managed*. I hope you enjoy it.



I feel so lucky to have been able to experience the wonderful births I have. They have each been special, powerful and empowering to me.

And in my own words:
"Giving birth should be your greatest achievement, not your greatest fear"**

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* If there is no need for it to be, and/or you don't want it to be. There are of course cases where this kind of birth is not possible and some people just wouldn't want to do this anyway! I 100% support all informed birth choices. All birth choices and outcomes are valid and special! Even if it didn't go as you originally planned or thought.

**I had no idea at the time that I wrote those words as the tag-line for my own doula site, that they would resonate so strongly with others too! 

Benjamin's Hebrew Names

Benjamin had his Bris, or Brit Milah on Sunday May 6, 2018. I will make a separate post about that once I have the photographs.

In the mean time I wanted to share the welcome message and Hebrew names given to Benjamin by his daddy, Andrew, at his bris.

Welcome & Pre-Amble:

Jane and I would like to thank you for coming to welcome Benjamin into the world, give him his Hebrew name, and undertake an ancient tradition of Brit Millah (Bris) which connects Benjamin to nearly 6000 years of the cultural continuity of Judaism.  Children, it’s said, need to be part of something larger than themselves -- to have roots and be connected to them… to have an anchor: And this ceremony is part of that belonging.

It’s a physical act, something fathers do to their sons – in fact, part of the ceremony is my abdicating the role and appointing Dr. Maresky as my agent to peform the actual surgery.  But it’s not easy for parents – which is probably why it’s traditional for the father to have a whiskey!

How we got here?  We are here to celebrate Benjamin’s new life, but it would be false to deny or avoid how we got here – and as we stand here in our house, you see reminders of our Nathaniel everywhere: His pictures, drawings of him by friends, some of his toys, his ashes, and more. We have not sought to hide Natey away or remove his memory.  Everyone here today has been a friend and supporter during our happy times with Nathaniel, the dark time of his death, and now – again -- the happy time of Benjamin’s new journey.  All of your (and many others’) compassion and patience have been great supports to our family during this tumultuous period:  Maybe to understand compassion one has to suffer – and the past 16 months has taught us a lot about compassion: How the sharing of sorrow, the recognition and understanding of each others’ sorrow, connects us and helps us carry the load.  Compassion is the sense of knowing “you are not alone”.  That learning experience was part of the inspiration for the name Bodhi.

In dealing with Natey’s death there have been a range of survival strategies – but amongst those has been embarking on the journey of parenthood again (for me, having a vision of my own future life).  It may be mere rationalization – or a form of acceptance – but we have also sought the elusive state of “appreciating what we had while we had it”… to remember Natey with the less pain and sorrow and with more happiness.  And, possibly another coping strategy – but very tangible -- Jane wisely observed last week in her birth story that if Natey had not died then Benjamin would not be here.

We should not – cannot - imbue Benjamin with our prior hopes or expectations for Nathaniel: Benjamin will have his own full life, he will be his own person.  But Jane and I cannot deny the experiences that led us here haven’t changed us: Without regard to whatever fears we have, healing we have to do, our goal will be raise him with all the security, love, and opportunity as we can – to make his life fun, free, full of adventure and learning.

Thank you again for joining us for this particular occasion, but also for joining us in the celebration of the continuation of life – for all of us, and particularly for little Benjamin.

 The father recites the blessing,

"Baruch atah A-donay, Elo-heinu Melech Ha’Olam, asherkideshanu bemitzvotav vetzivanu le-hach-ni-soh bivrito shel Avraham Avinu", “Blessed are You, L‑rd our G‑d, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to enter him into⁵ the Covenant of Abraham our father.”⁶

The Naming:

English name: Benjamin Bodhi Achilles Canter

Hebrew name: Binyamin Meir Mordecai ben Avraham Chayim

Binyamin was the youngest son of Jacob, and the progenitor of 12^th tribe of Israel.  The name translates as “Son of the my right hand”, “Son of the south” (an allusion to his birth in Cape Town) or “Son of my old age” (an allusion to… well you figure it out).

Meir translates as “Bringer of Light” or one who “shines” or “enlightens”.  The historical 1^stc Rabbi Meir was a teacher and scholar.  The name is not a perfect match for “Bodhi” – which might have been Uri (“enlightened”) or Rachamim (“compassionate”) – but Meir is my father’s middle name and he has given his permission for Binyamin to use it.  Thus, it captures the idea of bringing light to others, and also connects generations of my family.

His third Hebrew name is Mordecai which literally translates as “warrior”.  As with “Achilles” we wanted to capture the warrior spirit, and while there were some famous Jewish warriors, we quite liked the name Mordecai.  Notably, the historical Mordecai was not a warrior, but a bureaucrat in the Persian court and one of the heroes of the Purim story in the book of Esther.  For Binyamin’s purpose – the name implies the power of a warrior, and the wisdom and stature of a leader.  

Like his English name, Binyamin’s Hebrew name connects him to his tribal roots, history and culture… and hints at the struggle in life to constantly find the right balance between enlightenment and power.  There are times in life to “let go” and be compassionate, but there are also times to undertake heedless battle.  As has been said “It’s hard to be a Buddhist when the barbarians are at the gate.”

And finally, in Jewish tradition the Hebrew name finishes with the father’s name: “ben” – son of – “Avraham” (Abraham) “Chayim” (Life).

Binyamin Meir Mordecai ben Avraham Chayim

Anglicized it reads as: Benjamin Bodhi Achilles son of Andrew Charles.

Welcome to the world and your tribe #Baby BenjaminBodhiAchilles

Benjamin's Birth Story - by Andrew

This is the story of Benjamin's birth as told to him by his daddy.

April 25, 2018

Welcome to earth, Benjamin Bodhi Achilles Canter.  You were born at home, in our bath tub, at 12:49pm on Tuesday, April 24, 2018.  You were 4.25 kilograms (9 lb 6oz), 54cm long, and your head circumference was 34 cm.  Jane went into labour very early in the morning (about 4am?), and gradually built up to having you.  I woke up about 8am, and was immediately conscious that Jane’s  mood had shifted… she’d visibly started going “into herself”, and was peaceful and focused.  She was finding my presence distracting, so I left the room to allow her to find her peace and vibe.  Things got more intense later in the morning, and she had me alert Ruth at about 10:20, and also Samantha (your photographer).  So you can see the timeline, here are the whatsapp messages…

Andrew & Ruth:

[10:21, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Hi Ruth. It’s Andrew. Are you there?

[10:21, 4/24/2018] Ruth: Hi Andrew. Yes

[10:22, 4/24/2018] Andrew: It’s baby time. Come when u can.

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Andrew: She says “more intense” and she’s running the tub....

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Ruth: Cool. Will get my things together and head through. About half an hour away

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Good. Thanks.

[10:56, 4/24/2018] Andrew: All quiet. No stress.

[11:19, 4/24/2018] Ruth: I'm outside

[11:19, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Coming

[12:15, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Please come in [to the room]

Andrew & Samantha:

[10:22, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Hi Sam. It’s Andrew. Are u there.

[10:22, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Yes 

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Andrew: It’s baby time.

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Andrew: I can’t estimate but contractions are more intense and she’s started running the bath.

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Wow that’s great!

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Come when u can.

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Andrew: This isn’t going to be a long drawn out labor.

[10:25, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Let me make a few phone calls quick and I’ll be in touch ASAP 🏼

[10:42, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Babysitter on their way. 🏼 About 30 minutes away from me. Once she’s here. I can come straight away. I will let you know I’m leaving From Tokai. 

[11:16, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Ok, leaving Tokai now. 

[11:19, 4/24/2018] Andrew: All calm. Thanks

[11:47, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Hi. When u arrive just message me and I’ll come down. Doorbell is too buzzy

[12:03, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Hi. I’m here x

When Ruth arrived she had all her medical kit – in case of some needed intervention – but she was firm that it not be in the bedroom, and rather she laid out all her equipment in the hall (presumably since merely seeing all that stuff can create fear – e.g. “what’s all THAT for!?”). 

Ruth settled herself in the guest bedroom, expecting that if she was needed that she would hear: I told her that there were two concrete walls between us, and she wouldn’t hear anything!  It was pretty clear to me that Jane wanted Ruth in attendance for the birth, so as Jane’s contractions got more intense – about ½ hour before your birth – I messaged Ruth to come into the bedroom.

For Jane’s last 30 minutes of labor we all – me, Ruth, Samantha -- just peacefully attended to Jane as she had increasingly intense contractions – and increasingly vocal, allowing herself to express herself (not verbally, but with moaning)…  she ran some more hot water… and she moved around the tub to find comfortable positions.  Ruth was quiet, attentive and meditative … which helped us all stay calm… while I sat by the side of the tub – also trying to be meditative – and Samantha was “catlike” in taking photos.  Perhaps as Jane approached the final contractions we all became much more alert/attentive and that might have disrupted the flow – but Jane was deep enough into her process that she was oblivious to us.  In the course of a contraction I realised Jane had your head in her hand.. you were being born!... and within moments you slipped out of her into the water.   She did it herself, easing you out… and lifting you up out of the water.  You were born “en caul” meaning your amniotic sac never broke (i.e. Jane’s waters didn’t break):  When your head was out of the water, Jane pulled the sac away from your head, and lifted you out.  

While you came out very grey and squashed, within moments you came to life and shortly after started squawking: I had no moment of fear or uncertainty, as you were almost immediately alert and visibly alive.   Jane has told me before that giving birth is intensely painful, but that no damage is being done… as nearly immediately after giving birth the pain ceases: That was evident yesterday as well.  You sat on Jane for about 30 minutes, still attached by the umbilical cord.  Ruth observed everything, and later reported your APGAR scores as 8 and 9 – out of 10 – indicating you were alert, responsive, strong, and healthy.  You even opened your eyes and chirped.  Clearly, you were ready to be born!  After a while, and when Jane was ready, Ruth clamped and tied the cord, and I cut it with her scissors.  Then, while Jane birthed (the large, heart-shaped, placenta) you and I lay in bed—you on my chest – and got connected.  We all lolled around in bed for a couple of hours… with Ruth checking in occasionally, Samantha coming and going for some photos… but mostly they all left us alone with you to get acquainted.  

Caitlyn, another midwife who works with Ruth, arrived shortly after you were born – but never came upstairs -- and was doing a thorough inspection of the placenta (to ensure its completeness, and do blood tests on the cord blood) in the kitchen: I came down to make tea, and took the opportunity to photograph it: Quite an organ!!  Now it’s in an ice cream tub, in the freezer, neatly labelled (“Benjamin’s Placenta” so as to avoid confusion with the other chocolate ice cream).   

The whole team had left by about 15:30, leaving us alone with you to get acquainted. 

In short, you were born perfectly… and you are perfect.

Love,

Dad