Flashback to a very special night


Five years ago I was running up and down some stairs behind the local supermarket. Real Rocky Balboa style. Then I went home, Alan came home from football training and we watched some South Park. Then fell asleep and woke up to go to bed around midnight. I never went to bed properly because the contractions started. We went to the hospital with my mum around 1 am, and then 4 hours later Jolina was born.
Gorgeous, with the bestest smell ever – and the longest legs.

5 years ago and a whole new universe.



Just some Sunday thoughts



Blogging seems like something almost from another time. Once I couldn’t stop. I posted and posted, always thought I had new and interesting things to write.
That has changed a lot. Like it has for many if the other bloggers I follow. We can’t all keep writing, find the time or the subjects to make it interesting for ourselves or the readers. Or that’s what it feels like maybe. But I know I still love reading posts from those of my regular bloggers who perhaps don’t post as often as they would like. And so I will also keep posting. Once in a while. Probably not really a lot that makes that much sense or is that relevant to any other than myself, but I can always hope some of you will read it with a little bit of pleasure or maybe just to fill the time in a shopping queue.

Cause I have no idea where this blog is going anywhere. It’s all random.
From an attempt to change my mummyblog to a creative blog long time ago, it then suddenly turned into a cancer-blog, and lately it has been either about weddings or farts.

So I can only wonder what it will be from now on.

But tonight it’s just a blurb. It’s a little pause before I have to match all the girls socks so I can save those two minutes in the mornings. It’s a little reminder to myself that I can still be creative, and that I have challenged myself to make more stuff in October, starting with two santa-girls-outfits for the little ones. And then it’s just me saying goodnight and happy Sunday to you all. And not a word about farts.


Romance and stress


Hi, it’s me again. The farting one.

I am feeling a bit better now, and just trying to get back to normal. With lots of painkillers.

Right now I am trying hard to get myself and the rest of my surroundings ready for our last wedding party on Saturday. The third – final celebration.
I have been looking forward to it all summer, because in my mind it was also going to be a celebration of the final operation and me being back to my normal self again.
Since I don’t feel quite normal yet it’s not going to be exactly as I imagined, but it will be great anyways. It’s just about changing the expectations of how much I am going to prepare and make amazing things happen. Perhaps I will not be doing a choreographed dance with my girlfriends. Perhaps I will not have made the food and dessert myself. And perhaps I will fart or be embarrassing in other ways. But it will be fun.

And I am so looking forward to celebrating, seeing friends from near and far away, dancing, wearing something glittery and some nice heels.

But of course with a party comes some stress. Even though I try hard to keep the levels down.
That means that this night I have been dreaming about all the things that could go wrong, so in my dream it was 6 pm Saturday night, and I had not ordered food, prepared drinks, washed my hair, or thought about how I was going to fit twenty people around our table.

And the dream went on and on, even though I was up several times. It just started up again. Why can’t the good dreams ever continue like that..?

And speaking about good dreams – I have found a new happy place that I go to before falling asleep. A place much better than the place of fear, angst and dread – and it’s the world of Anne of Greengables. We began watching the box set in the weekend. Alan laughed at first, but he liked it too. And I like him very much for indulging me.
Sometimes something overly sweet, romantic and totally safe is just what the doctored ordered.

And then I can dream on about being a cute, 1920s looking Anne on Saturday.



News from the embarrassing and awkward dark side


Back again.
Feels like quite a long time, and when I see the last post with beautiful wedding pictures, it seems even longer.

It’s been exactly a week since I got home from hospital. I was there for only one night, which was nice considering that I shared a 4-bed room this time. With an extreme snorer, an old lady who could not control her cleanse (so so bad..) and a young lady like myself whose healing after the operation had gone wrong (which just made me worry about my healing even more of course).

So it was good to come back home.
For the first days I just waited for the system to work again – to feel a little fart after almost 4 months. It was crazy when that happened. And then imagine you have not pooped for 4 months. That’s some really crazy s..t.

And now I know I am supposed to be feeling happy and well that all is over. But I don’t. I am in pain. A lot. And on the toilet. Not just a lot, but all the time.

And it’s one if those things that you don’t say. Out loud, to people or anywhere really.

Bowel problems are not sexy. They can be fun perhaps, as long as you are not the one having the problems, but still, it’s not as easy to talk about as a broken leg or pretty much anything else.

And it’s not that I need or want to talk about it a lot. But the everyday is calling me. There is school, the girls’ routines, Alan’s new job, and our upcoming wedding party for our friends. And I just feel like breaking down a little bit all the time, because I can’t do any of it as well as I want to. Because i can’t just go to the bathroom like a normal person, but because I live my life from there. Day and night. It’s a struggle find a window of twenty minutes picking up the girls from kindergarten. Getting a nights sleep is harder than when the girls were little. And I don’t know how I will manage to feel glamorous or act sane for our long anticipated party.

And when people ask my if I am ok, it’s just so hard to tell that that my ass is on fire. That it is killing me. (Or at least tried to).

I just really hope it gets better soon.

Having an iliestomy was easy compared to this. I don’t miss it. But I was feeling a lot better in my body when I actually had it. How weird. I almost miss it and the simplicity of it.

So that’s how it is.

I am happy, relieved that the operation went well, and I know that even though my body will always be a bit of a mess, it will hopefully get better.

For now it’s just a crappy, shitty, stinky hard time.


Wedding bliss…


Tomorrow is the day for the first of my two rescheduled exams, and I can´t say that I am looking forward to it. So what better to do (than read and prepare) – posting some of all our lovely weddings pictures from our two great days in July.


We had several photographers on our wedding day, and my friend Michelle was so sweet to do an excellent job for us! Some of these are hers, and some are from our fathers. They are all in one big crazy mess now..


Looking at them makes me so happy. I wish I could travel back in time and do it again.



I Love Jolinas legs in this one – she looks so grown-up.


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Our cute little girls. They did so well for the ceremony. Just sat nice and still paying attention. Later, for my speech, it was quite a different story – lots of noise and fun – but they had a good time!


IMG_0905 IMG_0892 DSC_0201 DSC_0176 DSC_0154Me & my strong guy. Mr and Mrs. Right :-)


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And a precious moment when my dad sang a song for me -



Then off to London! Another awesome party!


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I did not do do a choreographed dance with Alan, even though it would have been the coolest. Jolina got to do the jump in stead – and she was well happy. Next time we celebrate I want more dancing.



Two perfect days. I could not ask for any more than this.






Procrastination and hopefully not jinxing it..


Beautiful Bottoms-bridal lingerie-7 wedding-lingerie Fleur-of-England-bridal-lingerie

For the last couple of hours – THIS is what I have spent my time googling. And Oogling I guess.

Not really useful, but in my mind I am counting down the days until my bag is gone. Hopefully gone, I say, cause I still worry that it will stay forever. Perhaps all this longing for it to go away jinxes it, and the doctors can´t reverse the operation…

No! Positive thinking, Karoline. Positive thinking.

And since I feel both I  and Alan got cheated out of anykind of white see-through romantic sexy awesome over-the-top bridal action on the wedding night – or any other night, I will be going crazy in this stuff once I can.

- And of course I could now. In theory. There is nothing stopping me putting these garments on my body. But no. Even though I am proud enough to post a #getyourbellyout picture on Instagram, I still can´t “sex up” a stoma bag. So rather cover it.

But in 24 days I hopefully won´t have to anymore.

Just you wait world, I will be walking around the house in something like this all the time! (Or perhaps not THAT one in particular…There is some wild and crazy stuff out there..)



Summer break sigh



At last I am back from the long break. I don´t even dare look at how long it actually is since my last post, but it feels like ages.

A lot has happened. Marriage the most important thing for sure. But apart from that it has not been quiet either. I will post lots ans lots (and LOTS) of wedding pictures later, but for now I think I just need to breathe. A long written breath of all the things that are going on inside me.


The day after tomorrow it will be 3 months exactly since  my operation. I was supposed to only have the ileostomy for those 3 months (which is NOW), but due to summer holiday and all I will be having it an extra month. That means, if all is well with the healing inside my, as I will go to have checked out in a couple of weeks. If the doctors say ok, then I am off to the surgery table again, hopefully to come back without a bag attached to my stomach. That sounds great, doesn´t it!

Of course it is hard for me to really trust that that will happen. That all will go well, and that no complications will occur. My worrying nature is not dealing with all this very well. Apart from that, there also is the fact that after the operation is reversed my body won´t function as well as it used to. So the even worse taboo-thing like crapping your pants might happen. That is no fun, and also kind of tough on your social life. (All you ladies out there going through crazy hard childbirths with that kind of complications, please feel free to comment and say that it´s really not that bad.) Shit happens. But not a thing to look forward to, when you finally think you will be yourself again. When I imagine myself in a month, all I see is me wearing nothing but bikinis or cropped tops. But perhaps I will not enjoy it that much, if I will be stuck in the toilet all the time.


But so far I still have a ileostomy. And I took a picture of it today for the #getyourbellyout campaign. It was in the gym, after showering there after my class – IN PUBLIC – for the first time in these 3 months.

I felt oddly about it.

For one, all the amazing nice comments make me blush and smile.

Secondly I feel that I am such a fake for doing it, since I will (most likely) not have my stoma in a month. So it´s like this weird accessory I borrowed, and then it suddenly gives me lots of attention.

Third – I am sure I would not be coping half as well if my stoma was permanent – like it is for most of the people with it, and which I fear is going to happen to me, if I get sick again.


Vanity and the fear of dying. Such simple emotions that both grip me most of the time.


One of my old friends sent me a message last night, ending it with the words – “remember you are well and cancer-free” which was nice to hear. Maybe even nicer because she is a doctor. But I really need to remind myself of that, because in my head I still feel sick, worried and afraid of being sick.

I hope it will change when my body feels more like my own again.




Thanks for listening. Apart from all this life is good. Great. It´s awesome to finally be able to call Alan my husband, and I so enjoy the ring on my finger.

The next post will be less about poop and more about the wedding.