firstly something i've been meaning to say for a while.
i haven't been answering comments so much on my site.
(i haven't been very vocal anywhere, really.)
but i really, really, love it when people take the time to comment here. it really means a lot when people talk. i just kind of feel sometimes that i can only scream in the darkness. it doesn't mean that i don't hear the voices of those who talk back to me, who keep me calm. those voices help to keep me going when i don't want to. but answering is somehow really hard.
anyway. all i'm trying to say is thank you.
this morning i was on a course.
not at my own office. at a different one. i'd arranged to leave with a friend of mine who was doing the same course. i'd told her that i was scared i was going to forget, so not to leave without me.
what i didn't expect is that i would oversleep and decide to just go into work late.
and completely, utterly forget.
i'm just glad she called my mobile to see where i was. but even when she called, i still didn't remember. i didn't understand at first when she asked when we would be leaving. and then, it all came flooding back. along with a large sense of panic.
i ended up calling a taxi and paying a fare (£12) i can't claim back, instead of a bus and metro fare i could. because, for some strange reason, work don't pay extra for my forgetfulness.
i've never done anything like that before. never in my working life.
manual handling. moving things around. picking them up in such a way as not to injure yourself.
what's relevant? the task; the individual; the load; the environment.
yes. the individual. so it's relevant to talk about what might make a difference. the person's height or strength or medical conditions.
it's relevant, and necessary, to say that carrying heavy loads is more difficult while in the later stages of pregnancy. to mention trying to pick things up safely with a bump.
and when you are trying to demonstrate the difficulties of picking things up that have a shifting centre of gravity, or that don't want to cooperate? it's relevant to use the example of a child.
and it's strange, but that didn't make me cry. it just made me feel hollow. both metaphorically and literally. i would have been seven months pregnant by now. today, sitting in that training room, trying not to think, i felt the space in my insides. where my baby should have been.
what made my voice break, just a little, was asking the trainer at the coffee break whether pregnancy or children would be mentioned again. he said no. i told him, my voice breaking only a little, that i'd lost my baby at the end of last year.
he started to apologise. but how could he have known? just one of those things.
it wasn't even what he was saying, you know.
it was his enthusiasm. his sheer joy. his 'aren't children brilliant?' kind of attitude.
it made me long for what i do not have.
for what i fear i'll never, ever have.