Things I love about life here in Brussels

• Our washing machine instructions are in Dutch. When I want to do anything more complicated than Normal Wash, I am royally screwed.
• Conor managed to change the language on the television. And disable the parent lock. And expose his brother and sister to the joys of 10am soft porn. (This is for everyone who didn't believe my son will be a hacker.)
• The only apples that resemble apples at the supermarket taste like dirty sock.
• I managed to lose one of Conor's socks somewhere between the metro stop by Declan's school at our front door.
• Maternity pads are no longer on sale.
• Declan and I went one metro stop too far and ended up in a neighborhood of church houses.
• Michael and I needed 3 forms of identification to start up a membership at our video club.
• At said video club, we borrowed Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast and Fear and Loathing. Guess which white-rabbit filled movie the kids were watching first thing on Saturday morning?
• My complaint about that is that I wanted the kids to read the book before seeing the movie.
• My new plug adaptor is Gods Miracle to the earth.
• Declan has written his santa wish list already thanks to a brochure we got informing us how many shopping days it is until Christmas.
• Don't get me started on the 'Public mentality.'

Goodbye Baby Girl

Here I am sounding like medical personnel: Despite our best efforts to save our baby girl, we were unable. She died on the 13th August 2006 at 21 weeks, 4 days.

Eleonore Kathleen, known as Baby Katie, was born after a quick labor. We said our goodbyes, knowing she was far too young to survive. In the ambulance, the paramedics spoke of putting off labor, forcing her to wait, but she had already gone. Michael held her, and after he had wrapped her up and prayed, he handed her to me. I held her for four hours.

Somehow, I knew baby Katie was not going to make it. I grieved for Emmanuel after his death, and yet after Katie died, I felt I had already grieved for her. She was such an angel, so calm, still, perfect.

I was discharged from the hospital after 3 days. I saw a psychiatrist and various other psychologists and priests who offered support. I was always surrounded by family. My little boy Conor looked so grown up in his 6 month size suit when he came to visit. My daughter charmed the doctors with her new love of French (brought on we think by a friendship with a three year old Quebecoise named Manon). And not the rude sort either. She spoke of her dolls in Spanish, and switched to French to show the doctors her newest Californian-sent barbie. I had never been so proud of my little girl.

These past few weeks I had been so occupied by the pregnancy, so determined for a good result. Now I must move on, shower my three beautiful children with the love and attention they deserve. Our au pair is heading back to France and I will recommence at being a stay at home mom.

Thankyou to everyone who has emailed me with your love and support. It means a lot to Michael and I.