This chapter celebrates two exceptional women who have given so much of themselves and been my endless sources of inspiration—Ipsita Chaudhuri and Lizzie Paige. I see them threaded vividly through the pages of this story.
I can never thank you enough, ladies. Biggest smoochy smooch.
May 2022 - Darwin, Australia
"Finn will guide you."
It was just as vague as every other prediction Serena had shared with us, but now we were looking to a baby for an answer when the question hadn't been posed yet. This one was in a category of its own.
That was when our problems started with Finn. He refused to take a bottle, exhausting all of Gemma's suggestions for nipples of different shapes and sizes designed to increase or reduce milk flow—he'd just rear back and have nothing to do with them. We had no success trying different positions, creating relaxed environments, and eliminating distractions.
Was he not hungry enough? Was he too impatiently hungry to try something new? While I'd been worried about the medication I took for high blood pressure reducing my milk supply, Finn continued to gain weight, nursing every three hours, and draining me in the process.
He was four months old when Esme came to visit during one of Masen's trips away. Going into this role, we knew he'd have to spend time in Alice Springs and Uluru. Tourists came to the Territory to see a unique ancient world, and the people who provided the most authentic experiences did not meet via Zoom.
Masen had a lipstick kiss on his cheek when he brought his mother's carry-on up to the living room. Esme opened her arms and hugged me, then shot a worried glance at her son.
"You've lost weight," she observed, and I couldn't deny I had dropped at least a dress size. "And you look tired. I'm ashamed to say my son is not taking good care of his wife."
"Mom?" Masen took exception at her harshness when she'd only just arrived, but she was never one to hold back.
"It's not his fault, Esme. He does a lot for us, but never having a break from Finn is wearing me out. We weren't expecting this."
She put her arm around me. "Hopefully, Gungun will have some success."
I'd already gotten used to the name she'd chosen for herself. It was unlikely Finn would ever call me Gunhi, and too much to expect him to use Gunhinarrung, the Wiradjuri word for grandmother, so I liked this shortened version, especially when Carlisle's mother was the Nana Edwards of the family.
"I brought you a gift. I've brought several, actually." She laughed, and we joined her, happy for her to spoil the only grandchild she may ever have.
"Oh, Haakaa! I saw this feeder thingy when I bought their breast pump. Charlotte recommended the brand."
"Yeah, that was back in the day when Bella thought I'd be taking my share of the night feeds," Masen added, half-jokingly.
"You do what you can," I replied, pushing a curl behind his ear. Masen was an enthusiastic, endlessly patient father. He often took Finn out to let me sleep, but he couldn't feed his child, so he put up with a fussy baby as well as a tired and often snappy wife.
Gungun's idea of someone different presenting something new might just break the "little bugger" as she referred to him affectionately.
I studied all the pieces as I unpacked them from their plastic wrapping. Designed to take big chunks of food, the silicone pouches had holes, allowing a baby to extract the contents by chewing. There were also leakproof covers so we could make popsicles, and I was eager to see what Finn might do with this when he'd so quickly rejected the sippy cups I bought him recently.
"Have you tried him on solid food yet?" she asked.
"Yeah, a little cereal mixed with milk. He spat it out." I had to shake my head at the disappointing memory.
"Did you ask Gemma about it?"
"She said to try again in a couple of weeks. Many babies have nothing but milk until they're six months old."
She glanced at Masen with the same worried look. "She'll be a zombie in another two months. Do you have to remain so isolated from the family?"
I saw his stare, warning her not to continue, and I wondered if he'd shared that he'd taken a job that would never fulfill him. He'd done well to channel funding to those who understood and cared for Aboriginal culture, but the government's ambition was for the Northern Territory to become the national leader in Indigenous tourism by 2030 with $40 billion of its annual economy coming from tourism, and Masen could identify plenty of bright local Aboriginals capable of navigating their way through the bureaucracy.
Jenks was already planning a return to the National Indigenous Australians Agency, accepting a run at federal politics may have been prematurely ambitious, and Masen was now assessing his own future post-covid.
"I'll get him," Masen went after the cry I knew to mean hunger, and I smiled, seeing Esme bounce with anticipation at getting her hands on her grandson.
Finn was adorably shy seeing her, burying his face in his father's neck, and she couldn't help herself touching his hair. "It's growing back so much lighter, and I'd swear these are baby curls coming."
Yep, that's what I saw, too. I was hopelessly biased, but Finn had to be the most beautiful baby in the world. His bed hair was just as riotous as his father's, only it was now just an inch long after it all fell out.
"Look who's here, matey! You remember Gungun? She's my momma."
It felt sad having to introduce her when we regularly Zoomed or FaceTimed with both sets of parents, and I had no idea when my mom and dad would meet him. Finn lifted his head at the sound of her name, and she rubbed his little back, but he leaned away from Masen, wanting me.
"He just wants boob, Esme, and then you can have him for as long as you like."
She sighed. "As soon as he's finished, I want you to go get some sleep. I'm bringing you a glass of water."
"Thank you," I replied, giving Finn what he needed. Esme had come here to help, and I was going to accept it for as long as I could. It also made me happy that the three of them would have precious time together before Masen had to go away. I chugged down the water, and Esme took the glass, watching Finn's little hand kneading my breast.
Suddenly there were tears in her eyes. "You know you're his everything at the moment, Bella. You'll never get this time back."
"I know. It's all just a stage, and I'll get through this."
She nodded, and I found it relaxing to have her with me while I fed my child. Twenty minutes later, I went to bed and fell asleep to the sounds of soft thunder and rain playing on my phone.
I was dreaming, aware of flashing lights outside, and it was already getting dark so I'd been asleep for a long time. The front door was open, and everyone must have been checking out the reason for the ambulance outside. Then I heard strange voices and ran up the stairs, gasping at the sight of two paramedics with my child.
"This is his mother," Masen announced, and they both looked up, relieved to see me.
"I'm so sorry, Bella." Esme's apology would have caused me to panic had I not seen delight on the woman's face and Finn firmly grasping the thumb of her gloved hand.
"Your son has had an allergic reaction to cow's milk," the man stated in soft, measured tones. "I'm guessing he hasn't tried it before?"
Shaking my head, I couldn't remember ever opening the tin of formula.
"Then get rid of it. He's had an esophageal stricture, a swollen tongue, and lips. The good thing is it was instant enough that he hasn't consumed much, and the reaction has already subsided, so we're not going to put him through a trip to hospital. You will need to see a doctor tomorrow, though."
"Will he be okay?" I asked, praying I'd wake up from this horrible nightmare.
"As long as you understand this is not lactose intolerance. A milk protein allergy can be very serious."
"Should I … try to feed him?"
The man started packing up, and the woman lifted Finn and handed him to me. "Yes, they said he's due for a feed. If he starts to vomit, bring him into the hospital or call for another ambulance, but he's been stable and alert for a while, so he should be fine."
"Okay." I could only take my cues from these professionals who didn't seem worried.
"Do you eat dairy products?" the woman asked.
"We both do," Masen responded.
"Then you may have noticed signs of his distress in the past. Either way, you should cut them out of your own diet while breastfeeding—probably a good idea to remove them from your life completely in case there's another slip up."
Masen followed them downstairs, and I sat on the couch to process what they said.
"Oh God." Esme was beside herself, kneeling on the floor and gently soothing his head, but none of us knew, so there was nothing to slip up. I think they were just making sure we understood we were dealing with something significant.
It still felt like this wasn't really happening, and I had no wish to learn how bad it must have been for them to call an ambulance. Finn wasn't happy when I didn't immediately feed him, and the pinch to my breast made me glare at his determination to make me satisfy his need.
Masen bounded up the stairs and sat next to us. "So, at least we know. It looks like we've got a lot to learn. It was just a teaspoon of cereal with a little formula."
"Half a teaspoon," Esme corrected him.
"Wow, is that all it took?"
"They just suggested we test every new thing on his skin before we feed it to him."
I hated how that sounded. "Did you take that to mean he might have other allergies?"
Finn pushed his foot into Masen's side, and Masen gently rubbed his sole with his thumb. "No, it sounded more like a general thing."
Once we were able to speak to Gemma, Masen took notes while we answered her questions. There had certainly been times when Finn vomited, had diarrhoea, or screamed for no obvious reason, and I'd put them down to colic, never associating these episodes with my consumption of dairy products. My favorite thirst quencher had always been a glass of cold milk, and it seemed like I was always thirsty while living in the tropics and breastfeeding. The poor kid didn't stand a chance with me as his mother.
We all watched Finn losing his battle with sleep while I held him upright. When he couldn't fight it any longer, we went to bed, exhausted. Masen moved the crib to his side of the bed, ready for any noise that might alert us, and took comfort in my arms. "Thank you for handling all that without a meltdown. I don't know how you did it, baby, but I'm very grateful."
"This allergy was going to show itself at some point, Masen, and I'm glad you were with him. I don't know how I would have reacted."
I didn't say anything to Masen, but Serena's words were in my head, and I couldn't help wondering if Finn had been refusing the bottle, knowing I'd eventually put something in there that would make him very sick. It remained on the list of things that might be too far-fetched to believe.
There was no blame laid for what happened, but Esme was up early making calls, and Gemma pulled some strings to get us an appointment with a pediatrician who had experience with anaphylactic reactions. We learned that the allergy was not uncommon, and that it was often hereditary. It was possible he'd grow out of it by the time he went to school, but we had to start out by treating it as a lifelong condition.
She didn't recommend a skin prick test on a baby since the results were often inconclusive and provided us with nothing more than a long list of foods to avoid and apps to install on our phones.
It was feeling like a waste of time and money when a woman approached us, smiling at Masen. "I thought it was you. You're the man who did the interviews on Bathurst Island when we had our DNA samples taken. Do you know when we will get to see the documentary?"
Masen looked at me for an answer, but I still hadn't heard from Maggie. "We're not sure. The release date is out of our hands."
"It's hard to take my eyes off your baby. He's just so gorgeous."
"We think so," I grinned and gently kissed his little chubby hand.
"You know those tests led my aunty to find her real family. She was one of the adopted ones with no record of where she came from, but now she has relatives in Broome, Dampier, Carnarvon, and across the Nullabor to Ceduna. Although we'll always be her family, she now has her answers."
"That's fantastic. I would really love to hear how it all unfolded." The vision of a journey leapt into my head—red cliffs and blue ocean—places we'd been to and others I'd only heard about. It would be a dream come true to go there again.
She took my number and asked us to pose for a photo. "I'm sure she will call you, if only to meet this beautiful boy."
I could see myself pitching the idea to Maggie. When we'd been focused on the past in the main documentary, this offshoot would present the current situation, provoking hypotheses on the future of Aboriginal peoples. There could be all sorts of positive outcomes, sharing knowledge and language as different mobs welcomed outsiders who possessed a new connection.
Masen would agree without hesitating. He wasn't going to last in his government job, and Maggie would get funding as long as he was in front of the camera. Could I make the deal irresistible by offering glimpses of his beautiful boy? We'd included plenty of footage of Jane and other little ones without showing their faces, and Finn's strawberry blond curls would have the same impact they were having on this woman right now.
It was so nice to dream again. Although I suspected she may never call, I would love to meet this woman, and take Esme over to Bathurst Island to hear her story.
Surprisingly, the aunty, Shirley, called the next day after hearing what happened to Finn and invited us to come to the support group she was running in Wurrumiyanga on Wednesday. Aboriginal children were normally breastfed until they were four or five, but lack of education about diet sometimes meant inadequate milk supply, and the group were often discussing locally available calcium rich foods when formula was scarce due to the pandemic or just too expensive. I understood that completely when the only tin of formula I'd ever bought was fifty dollars a kilo.
Finn loved the boat trip, always happier outdoors than staying inside. He had his father's complexion, so we'd been able to avoid sunburn by putting him in a rash vest, hat, and sunscreen. Today, he was wearing a brand-new set from Gungun, covered in stingrays and hammerhead sharks, and people kept coming up to comment on how cute he was.
Shirley met the ferry, greeting us with the same gentle and warm welcome we'd received here last time, and the entire day was incredible, sharing stories and learning the kinds of traditional foods that had allowed Indigenous kids to get their calcium thousands of years before cows ever grazed an Australian pasture.
I came away from the experience more energised than I had been in many months. Finn would be fine and meeting such a courageous woman who never took no for an answer stirred passions in me that I had tried to put aside.
"Are you planning to have another baby?" Esme asked as we lounged on our deck chairs at the Wave Lagoon.
I looked at Finn, dozing in his stroller, and felt the hollow spot in my chest.
Carlisle had given us his professional opinion about the dangers, but I'd yet to broach the subject with Esme or my parents. I still needed medication to keep my blood pressure in the normal range, so unless that changed, there was a good chance I'd have preeclampsia even earlier than before and risk somebody's life.
I already knew from being pregnant that it wasn't in me to terminate, and Masen said my duty was to the child we already had—Finn would be better off without a sibling than a mother—and I had to accept that's how it would be.
"The truth? Probably not. I'm not going to leave my son without his mom."
She nodded slowly. "I understand, and I wouldn't recommend growing up without a mother, but my question wasn't about that."
I patiently waited because these were emotional subjects for a woman who'd been through it all.
"What I want to know is … What I'm trying to say … You were your old self in that environment with those women yesterday: radiant, captivating, confident, and blissfully happy. I saw exactly why my son fell in love with you, so what are your plans to go back to doing what you love?"
For a few seconds, I had to absorb the simple question that was so encompassing. "My plans?"
"If you had the choice, what would you do, and what's holding you back?"
Reacting to the question, I felt a bout of hysteria, like the baby blues had suddenly returned.
"I'd have to decide who I'd approach first. Shirley, Masen, or Maggie. I suppose I could handle pre-production from here and keep the shoot to a minimum, but then I'd have to find an exceptional cameraman."
"Someone like Alec?" she asked, smiling.
"Someone exactly like Alec," I chuckled, envisioning this dream actually coming to life.
"And holding you back?"
Surely, the answer was obvious. "I have a four-month-old baby who won't let anyone else feed him. How's that for holding me back?"
"He won't need you twenty-four hours a day very soon, and you know that in Aboriginal culture, grandparents look after the babies while the parents go out to work."
"Right." I had no idea who was dreaming now. There was no way they were taking Finn back to Sydney.
"So, you agree. That was easier than I thought," she assumed.
"I don't know what I'd be agreeing to, Esme," I said, frowning.
"Okay, so you already know that Carlisle was quite jealous of your tripping around the country."
"You mean working?" I clarified, defensively.
"Yes, well I always knew he'd come around with a little incentive."
"Which was?" I couldn't wait to hear the rest of this now.
"Cooking his own meals and looking after himself versus seeing the country and spending quality time with his grandson. Lord knows he didn't have time with Masen."
"Are you saying … Has Carlisle agreed to come here?"
"Wherever you two need us for a while."
"What about his work at the hospital?"
"I'm not offering this as a permanent arrangement. You know me, Bella. I'm sure you can guess I'll have … stipulations."
Of course. I had overlooked the tenacity of the woman I was dealing with. Our black swan had learned to get her own way as a teenager, so while it sounded like an offer too good to refuse, she had her own agenda, and she definitely wanted much more time with Finn.
-0-
Before Esme returned to Sydney, I sent a text to Maggie, asking her to call when she had time, and just as I hit send, she was calling me, telling me our documentary would air on the tenth of June. The final product had come in at a hundred minutes, which meant Washington hadn't cut it to pieces, so we really had something to celebrate. She asked if I had any thoughts about returning to work.
I told her what had happened with Finn, how it led me to Shirley and the women of Bathurst Island, and how I would love to tell the story of a journey to some of the most beautiful parts of the country, discovering a family she thought she'd never find.
I thought the impromptu pitch went well, but she said that while she felt the story was relevant based on the DNA testing we'd done, there was a push to include more science-based material, so it wouldn't qualify for the funding we'd need.
She was actually more interested in the reason we'd met. Allergies were on the increase, so it was a hot topic, and the world was about to discover the charisma of Masen Edwards, so there'd be no problem getting money for that kind of project including him and Finn.
I had forgotten what it was like negotiating with Maggie, and I bristled at her treating my husband and son as commodities she could sell, but was I any different when I'd had similar thoughts? She'd trained me after all, but I was feeling mighty selfish when I said I'd speak to Masen.
"Fuck that!" he said, pacing around as I recounted the call from Maggie. "You know I'd do almost anything to continue that lifestyle, but not a story about our baby. Allergies? Sure, but not Finn's, especially when he's too young to agree. I'm happy to include glimpses of him, but not his face and not his story."
"Okay." It was pretty much the same as my thoughts, but the imminent release of our hundred-minute documentary had to give us leverage to ask for what we wanted.
"Have you spoken to Shirley yet?" he asked.
I shook my head. "There was nothing to speak about unless you and Maggie agreed."
"Because I was thinking that in her role running those support groups, she must have extensive knowledge and contacts, and she has seen how we work, so she knows we can handle interviews anonymously."
"But then she wouldn't get to tell her own story," I replied, somewhat discouraged.
"She reached out to help you with Finn, and she seems like the type who wants to teach more than share her personal journey with the world. Why don't you start off by running the idea past her and see if she's interested? Keep her story up your sleeve for a day when you know her better and you're calling the shots."
"Me calling the shots?" I scoffed, shaking my head.
He came over and put his arms around me. "I think you're underestimating what this documentary is going to do for your career."
"Wouldn't that be nice?" I leaned against his chest and let myself imagine success.
"And don't forget it doesn't have to be NG. There are many private companies and government agencies offering grants for Australian projects. Mom has spent years financing young artists, and she might even invest in us if we asked."
I hugged him, wanting to express my gratitude for the way he always lifted my spirits with reassurance or an offer of support, but I soon had to release him to find out why he was chuckling.
"What?"
"Knowing my mother, she'd want Finn offered up as collateral."
"Don't think you're joking, Masen. Esme would snaffle him up in a heartbeat."
-0-
It wasn't only Esme's stipulations we had to accommodate. Carlisle wanted assurance that we fully understood Finn's allergy, so he arranged a Zoom call with a nutritionist he'd known for years, and the information we gained was eye-opening. Australia was now the allergy capital of the world with 10% of infants diagnosed with some sort of problem. Allergies were more common in urban environments, and admissions to hospitals for anaphylaxis had doubled in the past decade. There was no clear reason, but studies indicated a lack of vitamin D could alter immune responses in a world where everyone was trying to keep their kids out of the sun. Changes in food manufacturing meant we were less exposed to good microbes, and the latest advice was to expose infants to known allergenic foods prior to weaning. Masen and I just looked at each other in amazement.
His advice was to continue to breastfeed for as long as possible, forgetting about bottles and cups until Finn was eating solid food. He felt that Finn would become more curious and want to emulate the way we ate and drank once he was able to sit up.
He also recommended I cut out dairy from my own diet, and Masen said he would, too. Anything containing cow's milk or a derivative was basically poison for Finn, so it was negligent to have it in our home. We would study the list of high calcium foods and all product labels until we could establish what posed a threat to our child.
He agreed it seemed like an enormous challenge at first, but once we started looking at the number of alternative products in grocery stores, we'd realize how many people were living with intolerances and allergies. In making more astute food choices, we'd be contributing to the future health of our family.
Carlisle sent a prescription for two epi pens we'd need in case Finn had another reaction. He also ordered blood tests for Masen and I before we embarked on our new diet. I suspected Esme had commented on my appearance, but apart from being tired all the time, I felt fine. Finn was healthy, and that was what mattered the most.
Masen's blood test came back with no abnormalities. Mine showed extremely low levels of potassium.
"Are you still taking your potassium supplements?" Carlisle asked, really angry with the result.
"Not since I finished the last bottle. I did ask you if I could start taking multivitamins."
"You never said you were substituting one for the other. While you're taking a thiazide diuretic, you're losing potassium every time you pee, and low potassium can lead to increased blood pressure."
"I don't get it, Carlisle. Why would—"
He cut me off. "Listen to me, Bella. I'm sending prescriptions for potassium chloride capsules and a different type of medication for your blood pressure. Your pharmacy will have them today."
Today. He was urging me to make the change immediately, and I had unknowingly put my health in jeopardy. "I'm very sorry, but I didn't know. I'll start taking the new tablets today."
"Just please don't go making any more changes without talking to me first. I want to look after you."
"I know, and I really am sorry."
A week later, I came home from the store so lightheaded I had to sit down, and my blood pressure was 85 over 60, which was way too low. Carlisle told me to halve my medication right away, reporting my readings morning and night, and by the beginning of June, my energy had returned, and my blood pressure was consistently normal without medication. I'd made a stupid mistake, but I promised Carlisle I would rely on him from now on and never self-medicate again.
The night our documentary aired, we had Jenks and Julia over for dinner. The feeling of seeing our work on television was unreal, and I kept sending texts to Jasper and Alec, pointing out my favorite segments. Sometimes it was a sweeping piece of footage that sent me back to that time, or it might be a certain way a man chuckled with Masen as he related a story, but mostly, Masen was the heart and soul of the film. His joy at doing what he loved filled every frame and made me fall in love with him again.
Maggie had sent a text with the single word, "BRAVO," and now I knew why.
When we said goodbye to our guests, I could have made a dozen phone calls. Instead, I made love to my husband until it was time to feed his baby again, and it felt like the most wonderful day of my life.
I know it was another one of those days that shifted my universe because things started coming together, one after the other.
In the morning, there was a text from Maggie, asking if I'd made any progress in developing the new idea. She was sure she could get funding for something relating to allergies.
Then Shirley called to say she had come to Darwin specifically to see the documentary and wanted to praise Masen for his respectful treatment of the story tellers. When she said she was pleased to see each person keeping their anonymity, I just couldn't wait any longer to ask if she had any interest in participating in something similar, based on her own expertise and those who might be willing to share the kinds of stories we enjoyed at the support group. Her response was that she would have to think about it, and that's all I could expect at this stage of the game.
I sent a text to Maggie, saying I'd have an answer for her soon. I just had this feeling that everything would go in our favor.
My phone was always ringing, and I must have spoken to everyone I'd ever worked with. We FaceTimed with our parents and friends. Alice announced that she was pregnant, and Charlotte was expecting a baby for Jared and his partner. I was excited for her, but I struggled to come to terms with the concept of surrogacy, giving up my baby, even to close friends. We made a promise to Rose and Emmett that we would try to come to their place for Christmas.
Within a week, Shirley had come up with an ingenious idea for a kind of supergroup, made up of the women who ran the regional support groups. We'd get some great stories and valuable information—the exact things that had drawn me to her. They did actually meet occasionally for a managers meeting, and she was sure she could pull one together if we gave her enough notice.
When Masen approached Alec to find out his work schedule, he had nothing booked after the middle of July, and I really started to believe there was positive energy swirling around us.
After lengthy discussions with Masen, I made my offer to Shirley without really knowing what she had in mind, but we couldn't make a documentary out of a group of women sitting around for a meeting. There would certainly be a meeting where we'd hear their voices and laughter, but then Masen would interview them where they lived. Not all of these women were black, and I wanted to report on the differences they faced in their communities as well as the things they had in common. I promised they would have complete control over who and what we filmed.
It would be familiar territory and have a similar look with Alec taking responsibility for the kind of cinematic shots he was known for. I'd be fulfilling my brief of keeping the subject matter to science, and we'd be learning about our son's condition and his future in the process.
Shirley went for it.
So did Maggie. She expected a finished product by Christmas, so I had some work to do.
Christmas Eve, 2022 - Merimbula Airport, New South Wales
"Wave to Gungun and Poppy," I encourage Finn as I point to Esme and Carlisle, the first to appear once the stairs have been lowered, and they're still wearing their masks as they descend.
"Bye bye," Finn sings as he waves, and it makes me melt hearing his sweet little voice.
"It's hello this time. They're coming to see us, not going away."
"Fan!" He points to the propellers, and I'm sure it's the first time he's seen this kind of plane.
"Yes, fan!" I'm so thrilled with every new word he uses.
"Papa!" he lunges, recognizing Carlisle when they remove their masks.
"And Gungun," I remind him, knowing how much work we've put into him saying her name, but it's a much harder word for him to pronounce.
"Papa!" Finn is bouncing on my hip now. He's way too excited for me to let him down when he's only just started walking and liable to end up with a busted lip or bruised forehead for his first Christmas photos.
They've parked the tiny plane a little out from the bright yellow terminal, and Finn finds it impossible to wait for them to walk across the tarmac. Masen steps forward to take his mother's bag, and she hugs him, then smiles excitedly at us.
"Gungun!" I announce, hoping he'll repeat her name.
Finn does the right thing, climbing into her arms, but I can see his eyes on his grandfather who is smiling and waving. In my opinion, this has been one of the biggest bonuses of them spending time with us this year. Carlisle, who had always been sparing with his affection with Masen, has a much more hands-on relationship with Finn, and we've all encouraged it.
"How was the flight?" I ask Esme as we enter the terminal, having never flown in such a small aircraft.
"A little wobbly, but the coastline is spectacular."
"It's hard to believe it's been three years since the big fires ripped through here," I note as we wait at the baggage carousel.
"Yes, and I was wondering if this will be hard for Rose, having us all round for the anniversary."
I know Rose has had her challenges dealing with the aftermath of that traumatic summer, but I think having Cameron has helped.
We pile into the truck and Esme asks, "How have Renee and Charlie been coping in this terrible weather?"
"They're okay, actually—fully booked for Christmas. Minus eleven Fahrenheit is not that unusual for them, but it's been minus twenty-five in other parts of the country with blizzard conditions. That's really cold. Brrrr."
I crawl my fingers up the back of Masen's neck until he shivers.
"Don't even think about it," he warns me, swatting my hand away, because he knows what's coming. At this time of the year, I live to torment him.
"Finn would love a white Christmas! He'd look so cute in his winter gear."
"We'd lose him in the snow, babe."
"Geez, you get Grinchy whenever I mention going to Anchorage for Christmas."
"It's part of my charm, sweetheart, and you knew what you were getting when you married me."
We smirk at each other, and I place my hand on his thigh. I could never have imagined how he continues to give me new reasons to love him, or how most of them involve the way he is with our son.
Masen stops at the Merimbula Wharf where we take in the sight of some breathtaking beaches, and I can hardly believe we're here. After the long drive from Adelaide, we've finally reached the place that will become our base for the next six months.
Eighteen months ago, when the country was opening up after the worst of the pandemic, we travelled through the south coast of New South Wales, talking to people who'd undergone terrible hardships as a result of covid riding in on the back of the worst fires in memory. I never forgot them and always intended to return one day to see how they'd survived. Now, some of those same people have given us permission to interview them, and I'm producing a new documentary about the effects of catastrophe on their lives.
This project is Maggie's reward for the money they made on our first documentary. One day, the flies were driving me mad, and I plucked up the courage to call her and ask for what I wanted. Maybe there was something unhinged in the tone of my speech, but she agreed, and now Esme and Carlisle are back for their second gig, having traveled with us around the Territory with the support group leaders. Esme calls the one-hour flight an easy commute when Carlisle has the flexibility to return to work or just go home if he wants a break.
"Shall we?" Masen asks, and I take Finn from his arms, telling Carlisle to sit up front. Finn falls asleep and I doze, tired after the last few days on the road. I wake up when we reach Eden, an historic place on an enormous bay where there used to be a whaling station. It's actually one of the most stunning seaside towns I've ever seen, and I wonder if Eden could be a contender for the place we set down roots. Esme just wants us somewhere in New South Wales, and we're still only half an hour from Merimbula Airport.
In fact, this whole Sapphire Coast region is gorgeous, and I love that they get a winter here, not like Alaska, but infinitely better than the never-ending heat in Darwin all year.
As we travel farther south, the vegetation begins to change. Where there were a few rolling green hills and healthy-looking forest, there are now black sticks—many of them completely dead—and others covered in green fuzz. When I see the sign to Mallacoota, I understand because this was the center of hell, the death trap where people were stranded on the beach, almost asphyxiated, and then evacuated by the navy. We have two interviews there, and I'm hoping I can handle it.
We cross the bridge at Cann River, and it was bad there, too. I think it was one of the places where Rose posted about her fears when Emmett was there fighting the fires.
I wake again when Masen is on the phone to Rose, asking if we can pick up anything and where we might go to find dairy free goods.
"Let me see. I've got the Weis dairy free raspberry and coconut bars and the Cocobella coconut yoghurt. Finn can have pavlova and fruit, right?"
"Yeah, thanks, Rose. That's perfect."
I've already covered this with Rose, and I really appreciate the way she's accommodating Finn, but I love that Masen doesn't always leave it to me to make sure there's something for our son. I feel quite proud that we've got him this far without another allergic episode.
"There will be Mum's brandy sauce for the pudding, but we wouldn't be giving it to the kids, anyway. Apart from that, we'll be doing the traditional roast on the Weber outside, and I'll use olive oil for the baked veggies. Oh, and I got that G-Fresh instant gravy in case I can't be bothered making it from scratch."
"Legend," I say to myself because she even remembered the dairy free brand.
"So, you really don't need anything?" Masen confirms.
"No, we're all good. Can't wait to see you!"
"See you soon!"
While Masen and Carlisle are in the liquor store, I start to feel flutters in my stomach because we're about to spend our first Christmas together as a family. I'm going to die seeing Cameron open his presents with Finn.
When we finally pull up out front, Rose comes out the door to welcome us. She's followed by Sue, who I haven't seen since the wedding, holding a struggling Cameron who's eager to get down. I thought Finn was big, but Cameron is two now, and he's tall. I get Finn out of the car, and he just stares at Rose, who is jumping out of her skin to see him. He needs time to thaw out, so I put him down beside Cameron, but keep a hand on his shoulder. Finn waits to see what the other kid does, having learned the behavior from seeing children reprimanded for not respecting their elders, and I've watched this develop in him without me having to do a thing.
"Come on," Cameron says to him, taking his hand. "Santa's coming."
I put my hand over my mouth because, holy hell, these two are going to be too much.
"Pull yourself together, girl," Rose says into my ear, putting an arm around me.
"I'm going to be such a mess in the morning," I respond, knowing I'm already close to tears.
"Yeah, you and me both, sister."
Inside, it's clear from the photos I've seen that Rose has inherited her mother's love of all things Christmas. There are decorations everywhere, and the tree is enormous, already surrounded by gifts, so it's going to be embarrassing when we add ours to the pile. Cameron is trying to hand Finn some Spiderman car thingy, but Finn can't take his eyes off the tree, mesmerized by the twinkling lights.
"Very different to last year, babe." Masen wraps his arms around my shoulders, and I remember it wasn't much of a Christmas for anyone when I was an invalid, terrified of childbirth but desperate for the pregnancy to be over.
There's a magnificent centerpiece in reds and greens in the middle on the dining table. It's full of roses, lilies, eucalyptus, kangaroo paws, pine leaves, cones, and other natives I don't recognize.
"Are these from your garden?" I ask, having seen photos that make me envious.
"I ordered them from a local florist. Most of them are grown on their property."
"But you arranged it? It's gorgeous."
"God no, I got her to do it for me," she replies, laughing.
"Okay, so what's our plan?" Esme asks as she looks out the windows to their garden.
"Dad and Emmett are dropping off some stuff at Emmett's sister's place. We're going there to celebrate with Emmett's family tonight …" She turns to include her son. "We've already sent a special letter to Santa, haven't we, Cam, so he knows he has to bring Finn's present to our house this year. I was hoping we could all meet here early in the morning and have breakfast together."
"Santa's coming," Cameron repeats, and I love the way the very young experience the magic of Christmas.
She picks him up and twirls him around. "Only one more sleep!"
Finn's eyes bulge as he watches them, holding on to an armchair, but I'm not worried that he's overwhelmed. We don't really interfere unless he's getting himself into danger. He's met so many people who've come up to him for one reason or another that he's learned to wait and listen. I think he's very smart, but he comes across as sweet and shy.
Rose takes us out to show us the garden, and their two dogs come up, wagging their tails off. While I scratch them, I can't help wondering what they must have thought of all the smoke and heat. There's much talk about all the good rain that's fallen and what a cool summer they've had so far. Apparently, there's a change coming, and it's going to be a lot warmer tomorrow.
I comment on how it all seems to be thriving after the fires, and she says they were mainly just singed. A good hose off got rid of all the soot and debris. I just love the white and yellow flowers: lilies, magnolias and gardenias, white and yellow roses, and Sue snips a few gardenias to bring inside. The scent is amazing.
We talk about what we're doing for dinner, and the top pub is currently for sale and closed, but there's still the bottom pub, the general takeaway everyone calls "Chookie's" which does good fish and chips, the Thai restaurant, or the Marlo Hotel which is also very good.
Emmett and Harry arrive to another round of hugs. Harry is particularly enamored with Finn, who obviously sees the resemblance between the two brothers, looking between them in wonder.
"One beer," Rose warns them, probably knowing what they're like when they get together. It is nearly five, and they need to get ready to go out.
Before I forget, I go out to sneak in Finn's Santa gift, and we hide it with Cameron's. I share my most special memories of Christmas with Rose: lying in a glass igloo and searching the sky for the sleigh and the reindeer, playing in the snow, but the greatest gift was always having my dad with us for the whole week. Rose says she and Masen both got super soakers one Christmas when everyone came to Melbourne, and they spent the entire day running around in their swimmers. I'm going to ask Esme and Sue if they have photos from those days.
After settling into our very spacious vacation rental house, we drive to Marlo for dinner so we can see the ocean, and there's flat land for miles south of Orbost. The road is lined with the occasional rusty barn and endless luscious pastures, and Carlisle turns around to Finn and says, "Aye, aye, sir. Stay with the boat, Finn. There be cows out there! Oceans of cows!"
Finn swings his legs and grins at his grandfather, and I feel a little emotional, never expecting this happy life I've found. It just seems like Finn's allergy has brought us so close to Esme and Carlisle, and without my own parents around, I'll never be able to adequately express how much their support means to me.
When we start seeing glimpses of the Snowy River, I'm reminded of the gorgeous photos Rose often posts from their walks through the bush and on the beach. This will be the first time Finn has been to a real beach, so it's going to be interesting to see how he handles the sand when he's still teeter-tottering. Hopefully, Cameron will guide him because I really don't want him eating handfuls of sand like Bree did.
We take our fish and chips to a barbecue table where the river meets the sea, and Carlisle can't believe he's never driven the Princes Highway from Sydney to Melbourne before. I've enjoyed seeing him appreciate his country, because he's worked hard all his life, and he deserves to enjoy some time off.
Rose texts me before she goes to bed, declaring that Santa's having soy milk this year, and I just love her to bits. She says she doesn't think Cam can wait much past seven in the morning, and I tell her we'll be there early with bells on.
Christmas Day - East Gippsland, Victoria
It's so special watching two toddlers discover proof that Santa is real. He's drunk the milk and eaten most of the carrot, leaving two gifts separate from the mountain under the tree, so we know they're from him.
Cameron is thrilled when he sees his black bike. He's too young for pedals, but this will teach him balance, and it's so damn cute I can't stand it. Finn stands and watches, making no attempt to open his present, and Masen crouches down to help him. He doesn't really understand what's going on yet, so I got him a canvas swing we can hang wherever we are. He would have no concept of how much fun it's going to give him, and he's currently only interested in Masen's slightly stiff collar.
We capture it all on our phones, and I FaceTime with my parents, who've taken time out of their Christmas Eve to share this with us. This is how it's going to be until I can convince Masen to go to Anchorage. Getting ready for Christmas Day is an enormous amount of work for them, and they don't have much time to spare, but we'll catch up properly in the next few days. Mom is crying, and I'm surprised I haven't shed a tear, but I think it will be different next year when Finn experiences Cameron's anticipation.
It's a tradition for the host to identify the owner of the gifts and hand them out, and Emmett knows to do the presents my parents sent first. Cameron does a great job of being Emmett's helper as he calls out a name, taking each gift to the correct person. I like the way they have him do this, rather than lose him to the world of his own gifts, and I long for the day when Finn can join in, too.
I share a photo of the aftermath with Alice and Gemma, and Alice calls back, wishing us a Merry Christmas and hoping ours is better than hers. Jasper is stranded and now can't make it back in time. He's only on a domestic flight from Denver, but it's been delayed, rescheduled, and then cancelled, and no one seems to know what's going on. He can't even get a hold of anyone on the phone, so she has no idea when he'll be home. She's very angry, and I would be, too.
The men are in charge of collecting the forest of wrapping paper and tidying up, and Esme is carving the ham while Sue cuts up fruit for the pavlova, popping pieces into the mouths of our two little birds who keep asking for more.
"Did you put butter in the pudding?" Sue asks Rose.
"No, Mom, suet."
"Good girl. Now Finn can have some."
Rose gives me a look, and we take the bacon and eggs out to the grill. We have babysitters today, so we're taking advantage of the time to talk while we cook.
"Was the drive okay?" Rose asks. "We were completely flooded at the end of October, and the river's still high."
I feel like I should tread carefully. "Most of it was very green."
"That section near the border is going to take a while, and some of it is never coming back."
I flip the bacon over, hoping it doesn't get awkward enough that I need to change the subject.
"A couple of weeks ago, I was welcomed to attend a traditional basket weaving day by local Gunaikurnai, Aboriginal women. It was great to hear about some of their traditions and how they pass down knowledge from generation to generation. One of the aunties spoke about how the stolen generations disrupted this way of sharing and that they're now having to work hard to keep their knowledge and skills within culture and country.
"I feel blessed to have been invited and to have been included so openly. My basket weaving skills leave a lot to be desired, but I left with a full heart and a greater understanding of our First Peoples' secret women's business traditions. They're going to do a cool burn in a couple of months, and when I told her about you guys and the work you've been doing, she said to bring you along. Not sure about filming, but we could ask."
I can't believe she's set this up for us. "Seriously, I think we'd all love to go, and you don't have to be a great basket weaver when you're such a gifted quilt maker. Thank you so much for our quilts, Rose."
She smiles, proudly. "I do like to make gifts when I can, so I got started early this year. I like your earrings, too," she declares, admiring my gift from Masen.
"Masen is not really supposed to feed my reindeer fetish, but I love them."
"You love him," she adds, almost bringing me to tears.
"I feel very lucky to have him."
"I don't know why you always say things like that. He's lucky to have a successful, intelligent, and beautiful woman as the mother of his child."
My eyes really do fill with tears this time. "A woman who gave everyone the biggest scare when I gave birth, and now there's this allergy that's supposed to be hereditary."
"Bella, hey." Oh God, she's noticed. "It might come from our side."
"I know that, but—"
"Hun, aren't you going to have another baby?" she asks, putting an arm around me, but I can't do this, not on Christmas Day. I can only shake my head and hope she gives up. "Because I heard … Bella … We're sisters aren't we? Tell me what's wrong?"
I waver, and then I have to trust her. "You heard that Carlisle says if my blood pressure continues to remain normal, I might be able to."
"Yeah, that's exactly what I heard."
"But there's nothing certain about my situation, and I want to cry every time Finn doesn't understand why he has to say goodbye. I know he gets a lot out of this life we're giving him, but he needs a sibling to share it with, and I don't know if I'm brave enough to risk my life again."
"What does Masen say?"
I wipe my eyes. "He says that Finn is better off without a sibling than a mother, and I agree with that, so I can't tell him how I feel."
"Oh Bella." She pulls me into a hug, and it feels good to let the tears flow freely at last.
Masen comes outside at the worst possible moment. "Great news, Rose. The best. Do I get a hug, too?"
"For what?" she asks.
"The big news. Emmett just told everyone you're two months along!"
She gives me a look that screams, "Somebody's gonna get hurt," and then pokes Masen in the chest.
"It's your turn now, Mace. Two years apart is the norm, and we're falling behind."
"You know it's not the same for us, Rose. Bella could die."
"If that's the case, you should talk to your father, the doctor, because he's spreading a different story."
"What story am I spreading?" Carlisle slides the screen door open, his ears clearly burning.
Rose looks like she's ready to take someone down. "That you're no longer opposed to these two having another baby."
"Bella is a normal, healthy woman right now, and I know what to monitor closely."
Masen grabs a handful of his hair. "You never told me this, Dad!"
"I did actually, Masen, but sometimes you don't listen."
Masen shakes his head as if he doesn't know what to believe, and now Carlisle looks like he's the one feeling emotional. "If it was me, I would try again, because that kid of yours … well he's just a great little tike, and I'd love another one just like him. I actually wanted another Masen once, but that decision was taken away from me."
Masen pulls him into his arms and I'm not really sure if I'm crying or laughing.
The screen door is opened again, and Emmett appears with a huge piece of pork. Sue and Esme step out onto the deck and stare at us, wondering what they've been missing.
Rose transfers the last of the bacon and eggs to a baking sheet and grins. "God, it's going to be so much fun having you people around. This family has never been so entertaining."
Thanks for reading xo