My Get Well Card

T minus nine days and I will get to say goodbye to this year. Oh- you think I'm going to be perky right now? Ha. That shit was shortlived. I just can't take it anymore... I am struggling with something I hear all the time, "He giveth and He taketh away"- please- tell Him to stop taking from my family and friends. Please... My heart is aching for one of my best friends right now. I haven't slept much- I feel sick to my stomach (though not sick enough to stop me from eating a bowl of chips and 3 scoops of ice cream- oh and two nanaimo bars), and I'm just tight with worry. I'm at my limit for losses and heartache this year... I've reached the top- all of the rest that piles up over the next 9 days will have to park in the overflow lot- but don't you dare think you're making your way into 2010 with me. I don't understand why bad things happen to the most amazing people... I just don't get it. To make them stronger? If they are good people- aren't they strong enough already? Why fuck with a good thing really- is taunting and teasing fun?? I don't know how I will handle Abby's first heartache- I get ill just thinking of it- the first time someone calls her a name or ignores her- or heaven forbid breaks her heart... I can't handle it when it happens to my friends and family- but my own child- I think I'll lose it. I want nothing more than for the people in my life to be happy and healthy- and have what they long for (within reason- no virgin sacrificing ceremonies or anything crazy like that). I want them to feel fulfilled and satisfied.. loved and cared for... and then- I want to be a part of that... As a control freak I cannot handle it when I can't make something better- my usual cookies or flowers in a funny vase won't work this time- time.. my arch nemesis, time is back- and the only one who can fix things. Mother fucking time. Tonight when I got home- I ignored the bills and moved onto a few cards we got in the mail- I opened one with 12 simple blocks of colour- and the definition of hope written on the bottom: 1. to wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment 2. To have confidence.... hmmm. I used to. Inside are some beautifully written words- some quotations from this blog (I didn't even think anyone reads this) and some words about the future- and how things will come together for me.. for us. "never let go of hope. One day you will see that it all has come together. What you have desired will finally come true and when it does you will look back at what has passed and you will ask yourself, 'how did I get through all of that?' It is the love and strength hidden deep inside your heart and soul. Stay open to the world- so you have so much to give and recieve." Driving home tonight.. I cried and cried and cried. No reason really- just the usual circumstances with a little heartache shaped cherry on top- those words- "stay open to the world" for some reason they get me.. they wrench at my heart- because I know it's true- but it is so hard... so exhausting... Thank you. Whoever you are- thank you for reading- for hearing- for doing-- something that I so needed. I want to revert back to 11 days ago- when I loved myself for those brief moments... I am going to try to cling to that feeling- those few seconds of hope-- I am going to try to focus on Abby's giggles and wiggles- on Jay's adoration of us both- and be thankful we are both alive and healthy (though in need of a stern diet... sans nanaimo bars and ice cream). I am going to grab onto the hope that my dear dear friend is carrying in her heart right now- during one of the worst times I've ever heard of- I am going to try my best to "float on"

MIrror Mirror...

... on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

Not. Me.

Giving Abby a bath tonight after a long long week, one of many long long weeks, I stared in the mirror as she repeatedly demanded I get in the "back seat" of the bath tub. I just didn't want to be cold... I sang to her and dipped her, all the things I could do from the inside, on the outside of the tub, in my warm jammies.

Anyway, as I stared I realized a few things; I'm getting older. My face shows it. I look tired, I have wrinkles and bags.. my skin looks terrible likely from major lack of sleep, bad weather and stress and anxiety... probably dehydrated too. I also realized that I look different.. other than looking older of course, I look.. sad- or wise- or both. I appreciated my reflection in that moment though, with the chatter of my 2 year old in the background. I appreciated it because of all I accomplished in the week that led me up to looking the way I look... all of the things I've been through this year and struggled with have made my eyes look deeper than they did before... I looked honest tonight.

Even though I hate my wrinkles and my untamed eyebrows I have an understanding of where they came from- the reasons for their pitiful existance... I examined my body- fuller than just post weight watchers from comfort eating due to grieving.. lack of time, and just depression. I appreciate, and loathe at the same time if that even makes sense, my stretch marks- you know the ones that held off until 35 weeks and then attacked my baby belly.. I am thankful for my hips that allowed my healthy baby girl to be born.. my smaller, much less perky, breasts for feeding her for a full year.. my arms strong enough to hold her, to carry her, to wrap around my husband and tell him I love him, and to pull him in close as we strive for another baby...

I'm grateful for my furrowed brow wrinkle- because it shows that I've been thinking, analyzing, pondering, and maybe sometimes... dreaming. I think it shows that I don't take the world with a grain of salt, though sometimes that ability would be helpful to my mental health.. My eyes let the world know I wear my heart on my sleeve- I'm obviously not that good at hiding my emotions. I wear them on my face, in my shoulders, in the tone of my voice. But that is me.. and though it's not always ideal.. it's me... and I'm proud of me.

Jay has been off work since Wednesday when he had his second, and hopefully final, surgery on the tendons in his hand. I've been working a lot as usual- having a little lady come and play with Abby in the mornings, then working at the safe house at night.. so even though he should be resting.. he has to deal with Abby- he's been doing an amazing job as usual. Tonight when I came home I just realized how l ucky I am: laundry folded, house vacuumed, baby fed, loved, nurtured, (gabbas even tucked in) Abby's bed time clothes were even laid out-- he gave her the meds I cannot touch with his gibbled paw. Over the last little while, I think I've woken up to understand that I really am a lucky lady- I've had a really terrible unlucky year, but I've been given a lot of gifts.

The acupuncture is going well- I drift off there- forcing out the crazy bad thoughts and trying to breathe in postivity, light and balance.. it is by far not "fixing" things, but I think it is bringing an alternative view to the things in my life. It could be the acupuncture- or just the movement in my lady cycle away from the dreaded red curse and into the surge of the lutenizing hormone- and the relief now that I don't have to pee on a stick for another 13 days- who am I kidding will I make it that long? I am starting, just starting, barely, to be thankful for the things I do have- and I'm mindful everyday of the smallest successes- whether or not I verbalize my recognition is another thing, but baby steps.

I know I will continue to dwell- that is me too- part of who I am... and I think I've decided that if you don't like it- then that's too bad. I know the people close to me in my life can deal with it- I hope because I give them enough in return- I can only hope that's the reason- it can be draining being a friend with a dweller- but my fakey smile is on the shelf- if I'm not feeling it, you simply won't see it. What you see is what you get- no substitutions- I'm hoping, and feeling, at least in this moment, my moment, that what you see will be slightly happier than before- baby steps...

I Used to be a Happy Person

I don't know what my problem is... My husband and I are happy- we've been kidding and joking around- and in part it is to help me cheer the fuck up and to stop dwelling on things- but also- we seem to be back to where we started. .. Silly but with more responsibilities... and fatter. He is a wonderful man who loves me- he adores our Abby like nothing I've ever seen before- my father certainly never looked at me the way he looks at Abby. He takes everything with a grain of salt- or at least he pretends to for my sake. He rolls out of bed at 530 in the morning- rolls back in the door at 3pm in order for me to go to work.. sometimes he gets a few moments to himself to read his dorky websites- other times Abby is anxiously awaiting his arrival. He lets me go and do my thing- with working four mornings a week and at least four nights a week I don't have much time to myself to get things done- or to just be alone.. I make sure we eat at least one meal together a week- but the other night I have off- I need some time to myself- and he lets me go... he doesn't complain about himself- he sees what I need and understands and just lets me go. I try to do the same for him- sometimes I have to push him out the door to see his friends- none of whom are very "grown up" in the ways of being married or having children- or even steady jobs- but I know how isolated I feel at times, and I know he hides his feelings for me- because he doesn't want his crazy wife to go any crazier. He is amazing. I sometimes wonder if I scared him into being such a wonderful person- my expectations are high- I used to be a happy person- someone that if I were one of my friends that I would want to spend my time with- now- not so much. I'm a dweller. A pessimist. I look at myself in the mirror and I have Kramer flashbacks- you know that episode where he was a smoker- and he cowers and screams, "don't look at me.. I'm HIDEOUS!" I know I'm transparent and I know that I'm not that fun to be around. I am trying to get back there.. I'm trying to "float on" I'm attempting to posses that attitude of John K. Sampson- the "throw away my misery it never meant that much to me.. it never sent a get well card". Well.. here I am.. sitting, waiting for a card in the mail: Dear Amy- don't worry.. "even if it gets heavy, we'll all float on alright" "disassemble your despair it never took you anywhere it never once bought you a drink".... let. go. You are going to be okay... things will get better. You will heal. You will have another baby... you will get a full time job... etc etc etc. I know it seems so ridiculous to think that if I have our second child a year from now that I'll lose my close friends.. the truth is sometimes I feel that way. And this, my wanting another baby, has NOTHING to do with that.. but it has added to my anxiousness around it. I know it's silly. Saying it out loud makes me sound like an idiot.. and idiot that should hit the back space button- but I'm not going to.. not many people read this anyway ;) Those who do- I don't think would judge me for it. I am going back to acupuncture tomorrow. I liked it. Apparently I fell asleep- I didn't think I did.. but I am so exhausted it doesn't suprise me. My body now is so tense in the short hour of naptime I get before I start my nightshift I can't even sleep. My stomach feels sick and my shoulders hurt- but I managed to fall asleep with needles in my head.. maybe it's because I don't think the hippies expect that much from me- after questioning me about my poop and staring at my tongue I guess I felt relaxed enough to sleep. I didn't get emotional- I've been warned that it may come... and I'm okay with that. I'm emotional enough as it is.. but I am trying to think of it as cleaning out your fridge- it gets messier as you fill your sink with containers of rotten food and you have to take out the shelves to wipe them down- then.. when you put it all back together.. it's clean.. white. I don't expect myself to be clean and white- there is too much rotten stuff in me to be cured in a few sessions of acupuncture- but I am really hoping for my eyes to stop hurting, my shoulders to stop aching, my stomach to stop churning- eventually... as I said, if nothing else I will be still there.. maybe even catch an extra hour of sleep. I was aware of my thoughts... and tried to synch up with the energy of the space- I had to chase out the bad thoughts more than once- a lot. I tried to repeat positive things to myself.. over and over- it was hard. It was work.. but I was still.. I might have even snored. It's funny. I cannot stand myself right now. I'm so aware of how I'm being.. of what I'm clinging to- but I can't stop. I can't let go.. and I don't know why. It's so hard. It's so lonely. I sometimes feel as if I'm outside myself looking in with pity.. what a pity.. and for someone who is so self aware (I hope) why can't I just make those changes? Am I too busy- too scared... just unaccepting of my total lack of control over this situation. Am I still grieving- or am I at the point where I'm just jealous? It's too bad Oprah quit- I wish someone could just tell me what to do- and I wish when they did- that I would take their advice instead of being a bull headed "poo pooer" and continuing to feel sorry for myself.

The Key

I am standing at this giant padlock.. shaking the shit out of it and wondering where on earth the key is- where or what is the key to "having it all" I know for a fact that I'm not the only one who doesn't have time to sit and just "sit". I may dwell on that loss more than others do- but I think in part it's because I don't have the key. I don't have the answer.. I don't have the "secret" (that weird show everyone was talking about a few years ago). A sure fire way to know that I'm depressed is when I turn down a drink- I'm no alcoholic- but I am a social drinker... I sometimes use getting boozey as a crutch in awkward (known to normal people as perfectly "normal") social situations- it loosens me up a little- my jaw so tight with stress I can barely breathe- it loosens those bones so I'm able to talk- let the jaw flap a little if you will- it helps me forget that I'm wearing a tshirt covered in this morning's oatmeal or that I haven't plucked my eyebrows since being a bridesmaid in my friends' wedding (in August). It makes me think that my little stories about Abby or work (the two main things happening in my life) are interesting to everyone else (not just me). Tonight... I turned down a drink... In part I had to drive home, so that my husband could go out with his friends- and also- because I know I'm so on the brink of something ugly- that one cold, smooth, delicious beer could loosen my jaw just enough for me to "flap away" about something ridiculous... I think one single drink would have turned me into that 17 year old girl who broke into her parents' liquor cabinet and made a nasty shit mix, drank it all, and is so drunk she starts to cry about being so drunk- because she's lost control... I am losing control.. no, correction, I've lost it over the thing that matters most to me right now- well.. not most.. but it's on the list of my top three. Tonight was awkward for me... and likely for everyone else who I talked with. I'm very open with my feelings... and it makes people uncomfortable- it drives them away from me. I have no one but myself to blame for the awkwardness. I finally did make that acupuncture appointment.. I have a good feeling about it as the woman I spoke with listened patiently to my ignorance around acupuncture- and she also calmly took in my life story in less than two minutes- I think I swore 5 or 6 times (do hippies swear?? was that bad??) and confessed all of the reasons I want to try it.. I am excited- if nothing else, if it doesn't work- it will be a time for me to lay still and do nothing- for the small fee of $20-$40. Lying still- I don't even do it at night- you know I woke up this morning drenched, DRENCHED, in sweat. I know I'm moving around, flopping back and forth.. even when I'm resting I'm not resting- I think those needles will make me lay still.. and hopefully feel something positive. Today I cried a little here and there- it was hard because I was at work.. and had to be sneaky- I worked until 12am Friday night (sat. am) and then was back at 8am Saturday morning- so I missed over 24 hours with my Abby- I missed her. I missed her even more when I found out another friend of mine is pregnant (a big congrats) but it still made me sad for some reason- and another friend of mine had her baby girl 3 weeks early (another big congrats)- but other people's happiness just made me feel worse- I don't want to be "that" person... I am right now and it fucking sucks.. of course I want my friends to be happy, more than anything.. but I just want to be happy too. I am 100% convinced something is wrong with my body- whether that is crazy or not I don't know.. I'm sure you're thinking, if you've even bothered to take the time to read one of my pity party notices, that it's crazy. It's been 2 cycles- technically only one regular cycle since the d&c... nothing is wrong this is normal.. but I am very in tune (and always have been) with my body. I know what feels normal and what feels off. Cramping all month isn't normal for me.. Extreme pain during my period isn't normal for me... the heavy bleeding.. none of that is normal.. the extreme extreme teariness- not normal.. I know this month is different then all of those non-trying months- and I know I'm worn thin from not accepting that I lost a baby and I need to move on- but I don't feel normal... Normally I'm strong- I can focus- I can laugh through anything... these days I feel weak, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I can't focus on anything- I can't remember.. I'm accepting things I shouldn't (like not finding a job that gives me benefits and sick time) and not accepting things I can't control (like losing a baby and not getting pregnant). If you are a Seinfeld fan I could coin myself, "bizzaro Amy" and you would know what I mean.. I have always worn my heart on my sleeve, so to speak, but I've never not been able to shake it- or deal with it.. sure the post partum depression was a challenge, but I moved through that.. out of PPD and into life... I've been working a lot lately- and I really do enjoy my job(s)- but both of them are giving.. giving giving- which I know is what one does at a job (duH) but along with work I give to my Abby and my husband.. my little date with the POKE people is the highlight of my week next week.. that is what I'm going to give myself..

Symptoms of Sad

Sore boobs: check Headaches: check Dizziness: check Drowsiness: check Slight cramping: check Heartache: check I tricked myself into thinking I was pregnant this month.. into thinking my charting and peeing on sticks and legs-in-the-air activities worked. I made myself believe that we were going to be able to add to our family like we've been wanting to since July. I read into the symptoms above- you know the ones that are early pregnancy signs and also the signs of an impending period... what the hell? I even thought I saw a faint faint line yesterday- which breaks my heart even more-- because if I did- I miscarried again.. this time very early, and with much less pain. My close friends knew what to say... big hugs and have my extra pee sticks.. and call me if you want to talk. They didn't tell me to relax and let it happen- because they know I can't, no matter how hard I try, and they know, from experience they wouldn't be able to either. They kept their fingers crossed all month, and now, I've given their cramped joints a break and I got my period.. I know they are disappointed and I know they feel my heartache- the ones that don't understand- that makes my heart ache... and it also makes me feel stupid... for hanging onto things I shouldn't and for just lacking the ability to fucking let go. I have been blessed with two previous pregnancies and not having to "try". It's very stressful.. it's fun for the first few days- and then, it becomes kind of a chore- especially because our time together is so very limited- I work late, Jay works early.. it is nice to be forced together though, a nice habit I'd like to keep around. I don't know what I"m going to do to relax- I might try acupuncture as a friend of mine suggested- my chest hurts- my muscles ache with tension and exhaustion and my heart and my stomach which is currently sitting in my throat are burning.. Every single time I turn around there is a pregnant lady... even at the bank while I was getting a new bank card I had to listen to this lady talk to her pregnant friend on the phone about themselves being pregnant.. at work there are pregnant women- my friends... I feel like the ugly dorky kid sitting in the corner- picked last for gym teams... it hurts. I know a lot of people can't relate to me- can't relate to how I feel. I know a lot of people think I'm pathetic- and weak- and too open... and I think those people maybe aren't a proper fit to my life right now- because these are all things I need to be- in my life, in my moment. This year has brought me so many struggles- right from the beginning until now- I feel like I haven't gotten a break- I stopped my post partum support group- and life took over- no longer post partum issues- but I wasn't prepared to deal with all the bullshit I was thrown this year... I wasn't ready.. I may still be alive and kicking- but inside I'm not.. I'm giving up.. I'm losing steam. I feel hopeless and sad, and so frustrated at the hand I've been dealt- that my family has been dealt. I am very aware that there are positives- seeing them is difficult through the fog of disappointment.. but I do have my moments to celebrate them- and be in them... sometimes it doesn't feel like enough to get me through the day though. I tried to tell myself, look at the bright side; rum and eggnog.. it's not as wonderful as a glowing little bean with a teeny heart.. and it's not going to do.. I have given up on getting any good news this year- I thought maybe this Christmas we'd have something to celebrate and get excited about- but I am saving my hope for 2010- I have so little left at this exact second I need to save it for a year that isn't cursed with the circumstances of life- wow. I am a real ray of sunshine- no wonder nobody calls me! I usually feel lighter after writing- this time I don't. I'm not unburdened... but I want to unburden my close friends- I want to seek help outside of the strong friendships I have, because I don't want them to end up like the ones I've lost.. I can't afford that either... wha wha wha.. I guess a positive is I can go through these days of the Moon without much anxiety and hopefully learn a mantra that will bring me some light, and hope, peace is a ways off- and that is my own fault.

My Apologies

I looked down at my feet when I was peeing one day and thought, "wow, I sure have nice toes. Look at them... all painted and square. They look so pretty" Today.. with my feet in the air post-sex-baby making position I noticed.. that I really need to paint my toenails... how come I swear I looked at them two days ago and they were perfect? Where did the time go?? Another quandary for me is trying to figure out how one week of ovulation testing has felt like a year. Why has time stood still? I can't do this. I am so tense. I can feel tears welled up behind my eyes every single second of the day- waiting for something minuscule to happen so they can burst through and embarrass me. It's happened several times this week and I feel like such a child. My jaw hurts- it hurts so much it's painful to chew and I had a small panic attack questioning whether or not I should have accepted that tetanus shot they offered me when I got my eye bashed in- then I realized I'm probably grinding my teeth in my sleep- when I manage to sleep. My fingers hurt.. my back.. I think my hair even hurts. I can't remember anything. I can't manage to be on time. My eating has turned to crap- and in turn I'm over exercising.. and exhausting myself further. Classic symptoms. I just can't fail at this. I have wasted so much time and made so many stupid choices.. this is one thing I'm good at.. I'm supposed to be able to make cute babies.. why did our nothing have to stop growing? Why couldn't that one wonderful fluke of me being exactly on time for something I really wanted have progressed long enough for me to share my glory? Why is my body holding the eggs I have left hostage? I grieved my period- and I know I'm going to have to do it again- because my planning has failed.. there hasn't been a second "surge" line at all... I'm falling behind.. soon I will be lagging so far behind what I wanted I will be even more lost. I'm so angry. Some of my closest friends are expecting... I am happy for them... it hasn't been easy for them- why can they deal with it and accept the hurdles and I can't. Is it because I don't have any other notable successes in my life other than Abby? I haven't done anything- but I did make a cute amazing little girl... and yea you can go ahead and tell me to "relax and it will happen" but my first impulse is to tell you to fuck right off- in a nice way of course... but if the tables were turned I would say the exact same thing to you.. just relax.. the world owes you this.. and I would know too in my heart that any person as stubborn and hard headed as me would be telling me to eat it inside their heads. *** I need to note- if you're my friend and you have told me this- don't take this paragraph to heart- it's an instinct to want to swear away suggestions and help.. I know in my heart that when anyone close to me says that- the best intentions are met- I'm just not at the point of accepting that again, this lagging behind is my fault.. if I could relax.. maybe my body would wake up. I have given up so much. I've lost so much.. fallen behind in everything I ever belonged in. I've lost friends.. given up job opportunities, stopped my education- to have Abby- and I don't regret any of it.. because she is my perfect girl who I love with all my heart- but I don't want to fall any more behind then I already have. I want my family to grow- I want to be safely in my second trimester like I'm supposed to be. I want to share my friends' joy and excitement and not burst into tears as soon as they are out of my sight- or not even out of my sight... I want to be able to be a good friend. I want to find some peace with my body... I want to understand it. I just want to be able to keep up. I have been doing so much reading. I try my best to stop myself. I can't. I will use my ipod in bed in the middle of the night- and read about ovulation post miscarriage and d&c. I was so positive at first thinking that so many women get pregnant right away and now.. watching single surge line after surge (or non surge I guess) I have read that many women don't ovulate for a long time- I have also read that stress can make your body hold onto the eggies- maybe it's that smart and assumes if you're that stressed you're not going to be doing any babymaking- well body.. you are wrong... let them go. I don't know what on earth I can possibly do to make myself feel better. I could work less- but I can't- unless someone wants to pay our rent. I could get a massage- but I have neither the time or the money. I feel like I can't talk about it with my friends because they have either stopped returning my calls long ago and just wouldn't understand or want to understand- or they are dealing with the mysteries of pregnancy themselves- and I want them to embrace those mysteries and joys rather than have to try to rationalize my insane and childish behaviour. I could stop peeing on sticks and stop paying attention- but I can't. I feel like I've lost control over so much I want to control this- but I can't. It hurts.. I'm so angry. I'm not going to apologize for sounding like a spoiled brat in this note- that's not what my apologies are for. I know, once again that I am much better off than thousands of people.. My apologies are for crying in front of you- for looking down at the floor- for wanting to lay on the floor and throw one of Abby's famous tantrums. I can't apologize for not being myself- because the sad part is- this is me... myself. Again.. this is me in my moment.. and it is a hard moment- it is long and dragging on... it hurts my eyes and my teeth... my head and my heart are in the midst of the dispute of the century and my soul is suffering.. it's heavy with casualties and disappointment... I want to unclench. I want to say thank you for supporting me- I see you nearly every day and you don't hold my tears against me- but rather you try to reassure me and help... I quite honestly feel I would be lost without your love and support- I don't think I have anyone who understands like you do. I am a mess now- but I would be in shambles without you. Underneath my "poop face" (which is what I like to call my stressed out constant scowl) is a smile when I think of how happy I am for you- I know someday I will get there.. I hope. I'm grateful for your continuing friendship, even when I'm a psychopath- thank you for picking me up- and not leaving me behind.

Snow Pictures

Driving home at 12:20am this morning after work.. in the pissing rain, where all the colours from the tail lights, head lights, street lights and stop lights all kind of blend in together- kind of made me think.. of a lot of weird, random things.

I remember when Jay and I first started dating- and how everything seemed so exciting.. like snow pictures for example. I was SO stoked when it snowed so we could take cheesy pictures in the snow. So silly.. and now, with the "hussle and bussle" - yes, tres cliche, of "family life" I wouldn't even think of taking photos in the snow- there simply "isn't time" and not to mention the sheer headache of trying to drive in the snow (which would be my first response now!)... But there is time- it's just a matter of letting myself feel kind of care free about one thing or another...

I did a lot today- I do a lot every day- and I'm not bragging- that's just the way I am. With the way our life is regimented and set up I don't have time to relax really- I am right now relaxing I guess.. it's dark and quiet- but I should also be sleeping- in the sheets I washed and put back on the bed by 9:00am this morning.. I constantly have this sense of urgency to "get things done" and when I have nothing to do, so-to-speak I trick myself into believing there is so much to do. Truth be told the laundry can likely wait and I don't really HAVE to make muffins- but I choose to be this busy. I have chosen, as I've written many a time before, to keep Ab out of daycare and work this crazy schedule- I choose to vacuum a million times for no reason- the Queen isn't coming over- I choose to wake up and work out every single goddamned morning because I choose to eat cookies now like I"m a 12 year old "growing boy" (I refuse to re-join WW until I have a second baby).. I choose to do all these silly minuscule things because I have friggin' ants in my pants and I just can't sit still!

Back to when Jay and I started dating..I could lay in bed all day and eat breakfast at 3pm and not worry about it- now I am in the shower no later than 8am everyday- and why? Abby won't judge me if I skip a shower and actually drink my coffee while it's warm... again, the Queen isn't coming over... I just wonder when I became so neurotic. When did I start competing with myself??

I know I have this sense of inadequacy because I have a shitty paying job (which I love and I feel, no, I know I'm good at) and I rent my shitty little 70's love den house, and my savings account is comparible to that of a 8 year old's- that is all money stuff I guess. I guess the keeping-up-with-the-Jones' sydrome is real... but why fill my day with things that don't really matter and no one gives a shit about in a pitiful attempt to feel adequate? Sometimes I don't get myself.. I can write it all out, rationalize it.. and then promptly go back to doing the exact same thing. Awesome.

Maybe I do these things so people will tell me I'm good at something. I had so much potential to do "big things" in highschool. I had straight A's (minus a B in math/calculus) and I wasn't even a social outcast (though I did sport some sweet fucking ensembles).. and then I dropped out of nursing school to pursue a career as a beerslinger for 7 years.. went back to school for "social service work" got the highest gpa in my class... and then took the first and second jobs I was offerred and got married and pregnant.. now.. doomed to be poor and struggle for the rest of our lives.. like.. it's not like I'm 21 here people.. I'm nearly 30 and 18 year old boys make more money slugging rebar than I do... and why should that matter to me?? I'm not sure.. but it does.

This is another hurdle I'm going to have to get over- it's like my Philosophy of Social Work instructor told us.. there are always going to be the "haves" and the "have nots" I guess one of my many new goals will have to be focusing on being a "have not" who focuses on what they "have" and who can actually take 5 minutes to enjoy it- and maybe take a photo in the snow again.

Angry Visitor

I got my period today. This is how I feel- yes that's me.. my face met with a softball this weekend during my last fall ball tournament for the season. It hurts.. but not as much as my little heart right now... oh well.. I guess it wasn't meant to be this time.

The good news is I'll live.. but be prepared to look at my pitiful mopey face for a while.. I have a really hard time accepting when things don't work out my way- haha I know- fairly obivious by reading my posts.. It is really something I have to move past.. I just think in order to do that a few things have to "go my way" so I have something nice to focus on. I guess I should just take a look at my little blond monster and thank whoever that she is mine.

Give Peace a Chance

Whew. I give ALL the credit in the world to "full time Moms"... okay, let's re-phrase, every mom is a full time mom- maybe stay-at-home-moms is a better label.. if we can call it that.. okay, job title then. Happy? Phew. I have been up with tantrum 2sey all day. Every single thing I did today was wrong... or at least Abby made me feel that way as she had a tantrum every single time I took a breath. I am doing my best to ignore them.. but there were a few doosies that dragged on and on and on and on! I would like this phase to pass.. PHASE. yes.. this is just a phase.. I repeat, just a phase.. at least that's my mantra these days. I realize how much I rely on getting out of the house to keep me sane. All we did, due to rain, was walk to the safeway a block away and I feel very tempted to blow my brains out tonight. I usually get a break- okay, I did have a nap, but from working nights and getting up early mornings I'm slightly sleep deprived.. but usually Jay will come home and take over and I can sneak away for an hour and go by deoderant by myself- or I go to work. Work is work and it's also very exhausting.. but I can pee alone and the theme song to Gabba isn't playing in the background (we have different background music there... teeeeeeeenagers!). I guess what I am trying to say is, it takes a lot to be constantly on with your kids... I used to get offended when people asked me when they see me during the day with Abby, "oh so you don't work??" umm. yes I do. At night.. when people sleep! But now.. I should take that as a compliment and simply reply with, "do I look that crazy to stay home 24 hours a day??" and I mean that in the nicest way! I am developing a respect for people with enough patience to do that.. I don't have it.. I can have it with children and the young people I work with.. but I don't have enough patience with myself. So brava ladies (and bravo to the dads who stay home). You're amazing. The other side to it though is managing your time.. when you have to work in the home.. and then work in the professional work place. There is no time. I was talking to a friend of mine at work who has a three year old.. and I felt so validated in the fact that I do all my phone talking on the drive to work.. because the friends that still talk to me that do not have children don't have the patience to talk to me on the phone when Abby is around. I will admit that constant direction, redirection, "don't do thats", "please stops" and "did you poops" can be annoying.. but I haven't talked to SO many people on the phone because first of all I never hear from anyone unless they are trying to sell me sometimg, or.. when I do have a moment.. I have a cute little Abby at my feet pitching a fit about the sky being blue. I miss time. I miss being able to be lazy and sleep in and rest.. and not showering til noon. I get so frustrated that there aren't close to enough hours in the day to do half the things I wanted to do. And I know what you're secretly thinking, "GET OFF FACEBOOK WOMAN!" but really, that is all the socializing (outside my Momma friends and work) that I get. I miss having a night off to do something with someone- most nights I get to sneak away for an hour I feel awful because I've been working every night I never see Jay... we have managed to do some famiy stuff which has been really nice in the mornings before i work on the weekends.. but again.. we have to get up at the crack of dawn to get out so we can hurry back before lunch and nap! I feel like the next paragraph should just say, "whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine whine" Living like this is exhausting. What is expected from mothers these days is absolutely insane.. I wonder if that's why women in the 50's drank? Society expects me to clean the house, raise the babe, clean the house, do the groceries, clean the house, do laundry, cook dinner, pay the bills etc etc etc.. and then go to work.. oh.. and I should look amazing while I do it all.. heaven forbid I weigh an extra 10lbs or not wash my hair for a day. No wonder I'm anxiety ridden and depressed all the time! My statement about making peace with making peace- isn't about the loss of our baby- though that.. really chaps my ass still and I've been feeling really really sad about it lately- I think because a lot of ladies in my life are coming out with their due dates and they are mere weeks away from when mine was- and also I live in fear of getting my period because I'm so weepy lately and basically ate half a chocolate cake I made today with the girls- god when the period shows up I'm going to be fucked.. okay but I'm digressing.. the piece about making peace with making peace is.. I need to lift this burden off of myself that I'm blaming on society, (but we all know 80% of it is me) and just fucking run it over with my car (that needs an oil change but we have no time to take it in). I need to make peace with my lost friends and relationships, make pecae with my messy house (which I vacuumed twice today and swept four fucking times- no wonder I'm tired), make peace with the fact that laundry may not get folded before we wear it again, make peace with the fact that sometimes we will eat frozen pizza because I'm too tired to cook and/or grocery shop, and make peace with the fact that I'm nearly 30 years old and I'm never going to look as good as the world expects me to. There are more things to make peace with.. but they're not as funny.. and I'm tired.. and I'm going to take my break now and go to sleep.

Dear Abby,

Dear Abby, I promise not to ever sell you over the internet. I promise never to tell you that you are lower than the family dog and do not deserve to eat with the rest of your family. I promise never to lock you out of the fridge. I promise to give you a key to your own house so you are able to get in from the cold. I promise to love you whether you are gay or straight or transgendered or bisexual. I promise not to ever choose anyone over you and make you sleep outside. I promise to be there to help you recover from your mistakes rather then tell you that you no longer exist in our family. I promise to help heal your wounds rather than inflicting them. I promise to love you. I have been working a lot lately- at the safe house. I love my job. It is balanced with challenge and fun and technical and practical. Some days I get to make cookies and watch movies with the youth- and other days I'm doing crisis intervention and counseling. I get to refer youth to services I feel would benefit them and help them. I get to watch them get closer and closer to making positive changes in their lives. I get to watch baby steps and giant leaps and bounds. This has been a good week for me there.. the kids in the house are very nice- most seem like they are in a place where they are ready to take the steps to make some positive changes- some are still at the point where the system is screwing with their lives- and some are still in the same old cycle but they still reach out to us... and it's still balanced I guess. My heart broke tonight when one of the youth showed me his report card- explaining that he wanted to show me because he had no one else to show it to. It took all I had not to cry right there.. not to hug him and tell him that things are going to get better... We don't cross that boundary where I work, which I am grateful for- if we did I might have a house full of 17 year olds right now- trying to fix all of their situations... this young person has been wearing the same clothes for a week because he is afraid to go home and get some clothes. This person has been going to school hours away from our resource- and doing his homework every night. He is interactive and responds well to encouragement and praise.. he likes to watch movies and play computer games and make fun of my crafting skills (or lack thereof)... he is a human being... but he wasn't being treated like one. The stories we hear at my job are sometimes difficult to leave there.. but that's part of the training and practice that comes along with social service work-- it is a challenge.. and because I'm only human- sometimes I fail. I might just be tired tonight.. I haven't been sleeping much- I have my own contstant internal/maternal battle going on.. and I have a nearly-2-year-old who is in the midst of her sliding tantrum stage- it IS a stage... RIGHT? I have been thinking a bit about the future- and my sister and mom's idea of starting our own safe house or group home- would most likely end up being a group home.. I wish I had a million dollars so I could do it.. I've been thinking about it so much that while I was pumping gas tonight at 11:30 after a 17 hour day I looked at the lotto sign- I think 30 million- or 40 million- and I thought, with all that money... I could open a safe house and have enough money to pay off Jay's student loan- I guess that does verify that I am tired- I didn't even consider all the shoes I could buy with that money.... All I can hope with my days at work is that nobody gets arrested- and that the pain and hurting of these kids will eventually cease. I wish I could take it away- but I can't take it home. I hope they remember my tiny (and sometime pitiful excuses for silver linings). I hope they can carry with them a tinch of the encouragement and motivation I try to shower them with. I hope they will utilize the lessons they have learned from the boundaries we set up for them at the safe house- maybe think twice about that next scam or robbery. I hope they remember me and my coworkers as someone positve who treated them like they deserve to be treated... like a human being.

Release a Butterfly??

Tomorrow, October 15, is international Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.. I'm just sayin', just throwing it out there... I don't need to spend a day remembering yet- because I spend all my days not forgetting. I know in time I'm going to feel better and stop counting the days that the nothing has been gone- soon I hope it will come... as my new obsession is making me completely nuts and I can't take too much more of it- and plus it's making my eating all wacky and I just polished off 156g of riceworks chips. Fuck. I have been reading and reading and reading about ovulation and conception after a loss.. and after a d&c.. through my investigation I read that in the US they (drs) give- or gave- I don't know how old the information was, women methaltrexate shots in order to induce a miscarriage- ummm.. Abby takes that stuff... I know her dose is low- but you know... it makes me wonder if that could possibly (very doubtedly) been the reason we lost this baby. Maybe I wasn't careful enough or didn't wear the gloves once or twice when changing her bum- I don't know.. she is so cute and wonderful- she can't be harmful. I will be emailing the drs and nurses at Children's with my list of questions- providing them with various links to my findings.. I want to give them time to come up with the answers for me- apparently I want them to turn back time... that's not going to happen.. but since we will be trying again to have another baby- I want to make sure I do all in my power for this not to happen again... I know it's not my fault, or Abby's or some person I gave the finger to and cut off in traffic for no good reason- but it would be nice to have a few straight answers for once.. just once.. For now I'm not going to release a butterfly as suggested here http://www.october15th.com/ (I think if this helps people then they should do it) but.. I will continue to not forget.. and just let time do it's thing.. and Jay will hopefully do his too ;)

Find a Friend..

... Let's find a friend.. I'm gonna find a friend and pla-ay. Be my friend!! Oh Gabba- Yo Gabba Gabba you bring so much wisdom and hope into my life.. and not just because you're cute.. you're smart too. Muno's little song always gets me thinking about my wonderful new (and reconnected) old friends. I write a lot about grieving and loss.. and not enough about gaining and acquiring new things an people into my life.. After Abby was born I waited around a lot for people to come visit me or call me- and at first, sure, teeny babies are cute.. they are fun to hold because they snuggle and fall asleep and are all smooshy and wonderful, but as they get older, and teethe and cry and whine, they're less cute.. and like kittens, the novelty for non-kid owners wears off... I was hurt at first, but like my life, I need to realize that the lives of my friends' go on as well. I started taking Abby to a Mom and Baby group just up the street.. it was nice to get out and see other teeny babies and tired mommas.. and it wasn't long before the fear wore off and I was able to make some amazing connections. Two of my closests friends came out of that group- they live close to me, our tots are the same age.. and we all enjoy beer... I talk to those friends daily and share pretty much everything with them whether they like it or not- they have no choice now! I care about them deeply- they have both been with me through some very sad times- I know they feel my sorrow and my joy as I feel the same for them.. and I'm happy they are still around because I do have a tendancy to not only spontaneously burst into tears, but I can get pretttty cranky- I know. Weird hey? I've met other Mommas through old friends who mentioned that so-and-so had a baby and that snowballed on as well... and at first things felt very superficial- no.. not superficial.. but like I had to hide certain things.. that lifted and things progressed and moved to a deeper level- past diapers and naps and into husbands and yeast infections.. I am so grateful for that... sounds funny- but during the post partum depression I lost so much of myself.. like that yelly Bronx song, "I've tried so hard just to be myself, but I've erased everything I was" *notice of eviction* that's how I felt.. and sometimes still feel.. but all of these mommas have changed my life- helped me over hurdles- and some barely knew me- some still barely know me- but I feel bonded to them, and so thankful for their support. There were all of the women in my post partum support group- who never questioned me, or doubted me, or judged me... only listened and encouraged and supported me.. those fine women changed my life- I owe them so much. I am happy to be able to start to reconnect with them now- though I need more time. MORE TIME DAMMIT! Then.. my baseball team(s). I joined on a whim and I am so happy I did.. I played competitively all through school (yes I did Rockers/OutKasts maybe not so much now- but I did). My teammates didn't really know me from Eve (I can say Eve cuz I'm a girl right?) and I think that worked out just peachy for me.. it was nice to go in fresh.. and meet people without any expectations of me- this year I'm having a hard time admitting to myself that the fall ball season is nearly over- I will miss my diet beers and laughing in the cold at some ridiculous play or laaaaaame joke. I will miss the teamwork (as cheesy as that sounds) and I will miss being something outside of just a Momma. Throughout all my "note" writing on Facebook I've gotten comments and replies from people I haven't talked to in years- and for that I'm so thankful. I'm thankful for them to have the courage to write something to someone who could be a complete stranger by now- but I guess only part of me is a stranger- because their (your) comments and thoughts have made me feel re-connected in a way- you know, my old highschool friends write more than some of the people I'm supposed to be closest to today- and at times that stings, not because it's unappreciated, but because I wonder if my old friends have a better reason to stay connected to me than my newer friends- who I miss and care for so much- but I am in the process of accepting the life differences now- and that it's nobody's fault- it's just life.. and the paths and journeys we choose- and hopefully our paths will re-cross one another's very soon... I just love that feeling of being able to pick up where you left off- whether it is with what happened with the pee sticks, or how you've been since you've left the group- or what has been going on since grade 12- or how hungover were you after that fundraiser- or how are your woman parts feeling... that feeling of not missing a beat is what I crave- and I think if I just look for it more, and focus on that, I will get what I'm looking for.. instead of doing the opposite.. I've found my friends.. I've found my friends.. now I'm gonna get to play... you have to be a Gabba fan to know the tune. It's a real musical masterpiece- and a life lesson all in one.

Thanksgiving Tights

So this is the weekend for thanking- I've been working all weekend and will continue- which is fine- we're used to it.. and Jay is American so technically it's not really his thanksgiving. It's cool man. I had a good day at work yesterday- my shift partner is someone I love working with and we had a nice time- being on the same page professionally and ethically is really nice- and sometimes doesn't happen at my job for various reasons... anyway, along with it being a good shift.. it was sad. We talked about the current youth and the past youth in the house and how they may be doing now- are they in jail? at least one had a baby- someone died from a heroine overdose etc.. it's hard sometimes listening to their stories. Let's face it, most people's lives are less than perfect- but these are kids. It can be very heart wrenching- and at better times, heart warming. It made me think- and say out loud- that I really complain about a lot of little things compared to some people. At times of grief and despair I'm the LAST person who wants to be told, "try try again" or "think about how much worse it can be" because as I've said before- these are my moments in my life- and sometimes the mountain I've created for myself never really had a chance of being a molehill- it's all relative right? I am lucky. This has been a terrible year for my family. Awful. I'm so ready to be done and move on. I don't even feel like I want to dwell on it, or grieve it any longer. Bring on 2010- which I'm no idiot, I know it will have its own issues but I hope for my family's sake (and for the sake of me not having to move into a mental institution) that it is less tragic. But I'm lucky because I have a wonderful family who loves me- they would love me in Riverside or in a beach house- no matter what I do or say they'll love me. I'm lucky because I'm able to realize how absolutely amazing Abby is. People who don't understand the sadness over a miscarriage- when "it's just a sac" don't understand because they don't have an Abby in their life.. she started off like that.. a little eggy and spermy, a yolk, a sac, a little bean... and now.. she is this wonderful little girl who I hope I never ever take for granted. With her arthritis she takes all these medicines, again, some babies have it much worse and I should be grateful- but in my moment it is very hard to accept that this is something she is going to have to deal with as a child and young adult- but she is a trooper- she knows the deal- the routine... She doesn't stop running or climbing or trying... sure sometimes she needs up for a few minutes, but then her drive and desire to run and learn and play with her buddies takes over and she powers through. I'm so thankful for her resilience. She's learning so much I'm amazed. Every day I'm in total awe of things she does, or says, (ie: "oh shit" when she drops something- thank you Granny for that). I'm impressed by her potty farts and ability to follow direction so perfectly now- "put your binky in your cribby- you're a big girl" or "Ab can you bring me the firetruck book". I love how she answers the phone and talks to her Daddy (for pretend) when he's at work. I love how she hugs me so tight- but it's never for long enough... I miss her when I'm at work.. and try not to talk obsessively about her and her amazing skillset :) I have a hard time not picking her up for a sleepy cuddle when I get home.. I sometimes tell her I love her so much I want to squish her face- you know that feeling you get with kittens when they are SO cute you want to smoosh them?- wait am I a psycho?? I crave my time, my space- but when I get it.. I miss her. I started to write this while I watched Abby attempt to put on tights by herself- she's given up since then.. but it was pretty funny. She is like me in a lot of ways- fiercely independent and reluctant (tantrumatic!!) to accept assistance- she will never turn down love though- she is a snuggly little beast who makes my heart beat...

Prognosis: Negative

So, I ordered ovulation test strips online after the miscarriage- I am bound and determind not to "waste any time" and after reading and reading and reading about how "hard" it is to actually get pregnant- even though both times it happened our first "try" (or month of trying). With those test strips I opted to add some pregnancy tests, because let's face it, those puppies are NOT cheap...

When I went for my 2 week check up on Monday my Dr. told me that if I did a pregnancy test it would turn up positive because of hcG hormone still being in my body- I asked for one at the office because let's face it, those puppies aren't cheap ;) So when she said that.. I felt silly and stupid for peeing on ovulation sticks thinking my body my release an egg soon- but tonight, on a whim, while reading the instructions for all my new pee sticks, which I already know how to work- I tested.. and it came out negative. Only one pink line...

Now, this should make me happy- there are no "products of conception" left tricking my body into thinking it's pregnant still- I will most likely get a period (at some freaking point) and then ovulate etc. and we can do it- make the something- make a baby... but for some reason that one pink line made me cry. I don't know why- I can't explain it.. because this is a case where negative is good; it means my body is moving on etc.. I have been feeling better, able to function and not cry every 4 minutes.. but still.. that one pink line really fucked with me.

I am a patient person- when it comes to almost everyone else- sometimes with Ab I do need a few sips of coffee before I'm able to entertain the 2 year old whinies- but for the most part I can wait, and reinstruct and redirect all day if I have to- but when it comes to being patient with myself-- I find it nearly impossible. It's funny- I have NO control over when those hormones enter or leave my body- yet I can't wait for them to get here- or in the case of PMS I can't wait for them to leave. Funny isn't it? Control freak much- so much for that whole "letting go" thing hey??

Anyway, I will continue to test for ovulation- as with the various dr's statistics on miscarriage and loss- there are numerous suggestions for when a woman should ovulate after a d&c- the majority of my sources seem to say around 2-3 weeks- well.. we are at 2.5 weeks.. so I'm ready for either a surge and some hot baby makin' sex.. or a period and some chocolate. Just give me something to move past that one pink line.

Whoa Momma I'm new to this Technology thing!

Welcome to my Blog.. previously just notes on Facebook I've decided to broaden my horizons so to speak.. but since I am technically just beautiful and not that smart I copied and pasted in my old posts.. so.. I have to go through and edit them.... which I plan to do.. soon.. right after this nap. If you are a patient reader you can just power through.. but if you are interested and wait a few days I'll get 'er done. Thanks :)

Let's Talk Punctuation... Tuesday October 7th, 2009 at 10:23pm

Boys may want to avoid this one.Every time I think about getting my period I think of that one episode of "The Cosby Show" where Rudy gets her period for the first time in the middle of English class where they are learning about punctuation. It killed me..I laughed and laughed.. man.. those Huxtables were hilarious... but seriously.. the period... it really causes a lot of emotions.. a women's "issue" so day to day that has it's own "sanitary industry" isn't just that. From the pre-puberty years I can remember really wanting to get it. I wanted so badly to grow up.. and my Mom kept telling me.. once I get it I won't want it.. I couldn't believe she could say such a thing about being a woman.. you got to buy pads and tampons (and try and figure out how to work and tampon) and you must look different once it comes.. and you have to be careful about swimming in shark infested waters when you have it because you can get eaten alive.. it means you are grown up enough to have a baby. hahaha.. yea right. Anyway, of course she was right.. because being one of the "last ones" to get it in my peer group I awaited it anxiously... then.. it became annoying.. baseball tournaments were more of a hassle and I began to question whether or not it was safe to swim- or whether or not you could "tell" when I had it.. man.. by my fourth cycle I'd really had enough of it.. Then come those times as a young adult (sorry Mom and Dad... Jay too) when you wait for it.. if it's an hour late you start to panic.. if you don't feel bitchy or miserable you wonder what's wrong.. there is no way I could have been someone's mother at age 18 (a lot of women can, I could not have!) Checking every 10 minutes while fielding off phone calls from boyfriends who actually want you to use the excuse that "you're on your period" for once.. now, I'm speaking generally for the female population.. I was not, am not, an idiot.. I know how babies are made- but there have been a few times where I questioned the antibiotics I took while on the pill... I'm just writing about the dramatic difference in the way of thinking of the period.... While we speak of boys- only having to deal with the odd spontaneous boner- they deserve to suffer through the excuse of "I have my period", or "I'm bloated" or "if you breathe like that one more time I swear to god I will spear your eyeballs out with this fork"... I don't think the majority of boys don't really understand the burden- and the miracle of the period... I am lucky that at least my husband is very patient with my temporary- or not so temporary- insanity... believe me boys- it is real.. very real.. it has a tendancy to seriously torture most ladies.. it's not easy.. When trying to have a baby- a period is at first the best thing ever- you wait for it..so you can start counting the days... day one being the first day of what you hope will be that "miracle". You count.. and wait.. and you husband waits.. counting.. waiting for the crazy baby making sex party- well you know.. those times when you start to surge, twice on the day you surge and they every day thereafter- or right before the surge.. he counts on you not remembering so he can just do it! Then after the crazy 30 minutes of combined babymaking.. you wait... and you hope and pray and cross your everythings that that damn period will not show its face... You want "aunt flow" to stay home and the "red tide" to just ruin oyster season- not your picture perfect life- you keep counting.. 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25- you're cranky. Fuck it's coming, 26- great you are harbouring a small village of zits on your forehead, it's getting closer, 27, you look like you desperately need to fart because you're so bloated- 28, you ate chocolate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner... 29- wait.. nothing.. 30.. still nothing... 31.. so tired.. and if you're patient- that's when you do your pregnancy test.. and there they are.. two super perfect little pink lines... The hatred of that period continues and you spend the next 9 months hoping like anything that it, or something similar doesn't show its face.. you learn to identify brands and plys of toilet paper because you have to check every time you pee... once you get over your nerves you, and your partner are able to enjoy the flow free 9 month ride! And then it happens again.. you wait for it.. after the baby comes.. you're back to being a teenager- wondering when it will show up- when will your body be back to normal- and then however many months post partum, you realize.. your period, your body are no longer their old "normal" they're weird and different and still figuring things out.. by the first cycle this time.. you're tired of it again! I cannot speak for the time when it dissapears from a woman's life- but I imagine for some it is a time where you start to feel like you're losing yourself.. no longer a woman who can bear children- a woman who can no longer use the excuse that you "are on your period" I imagine it being kind of sad at first.. a realization that you're out of eggs, out of business... Then.. I imagine that once the drama and trauma and mystery behind its dissapearance fades.. a woman can begin to enjoy swimming in hawaii without wondering if she'll lose a foot to a hammerhead- that is if the hot flashes stop long enough to get out of the A/C filled hotel room ;)I have been thinking a lot about this lately- for obvious reasons.. I think I will try to find that episode of "The Cosby Show" while I wait for mine to show up... tmi?? Deal with it.

Sitting in the boardroom The I'm-so-bored room Listening to the suitsTalk about their world They can make straight lines Out of almost anything Except for the line of my upper lip when it curls Dressed in my best greasy skin and squinty eyes I'm the only part of summer hereThat made it inside In the air-conditioned building Decorated with coporate flair I wonderCan these boys smell me bleeding Though my underwear There's men wearing the blood Of the women they love There's white wearing the blood of the brown But every woman learns to bleed from the moon And we bleed to renew life Every time it's cut down I got my vertebrae all stacked up As high as they go but I still feel myself sliding From the earth that I know So I excuse myself and leave the room Say my period came early But it's not a minute too soon I go and find the only other woman on the floor Is the secretary sitting at the desk by the door I ask her if she's got a tampon I could use She says Oh honey, what a hassle for you Sure I doYou know I do I sayIt ain't no hassle, no, it ain't no mess Right now it's the only power That I possess These businessmen got the money They got the instruments of death But I can make life I can make breath Sitting in the boardroom The I'm-so-bored room Listening to the suits talk about their world I didn't really have much to say The whole time I was there So I just left a big brown bloodstain On their white chair. Ani Difranco

The Art of Letting Go... Monday October 6, 2009 at 1:00am

I have never been good at letting go.. I just can't for some reason. Sure there are some things I've "let go" of, or so it seems, more accurately, I've simply forgotten about them.. or can't remember what happened. I've been struggling once again.. Woe is me- I know.. Trust me- do you think I enjoy being the asshole Eeyore that no one wants to hang out with?? Do you thinK I like raging about teeny little things- I don't.. but it's not that easy for me to just stop doing it. I feel like I'm at peace with the decisions and choices I've made in my life. I chose to get married at age 27 and have a baby a few months later. I chose that... I chose to not put Abby in daycare and to work two part time jobs in order to help support my family- that was my choice. I chose to work so much that I barely see my husband as we're two ships passing in the night.. aka 3:15pm.. I chose to work mostly weekends in order to get as many shifts as possible at the safe house- I am actively making these choices.. I chose to stop weight watchers when I found out I was pregnant and decided no to pay to rejoin in hopes I'll be pregnant again very soon- thus I am choosing to get up early every single morning without fail to work out for an hour before Abby gets up- even though I work til 12am and I get a lovely little lady at my doorstep at 9am whom I want to do a good job of watching- I choose to get less sleep so I don't gain all the weight I lost- I am busy. I don't see any friends that do not have kids of their own.. I feel like I've lost a part of myself.. like that part is gone now and I can't get it back... I'm too tired, I live too far away, I have a bizzaro schedule, I don't have a babysitter- the odds are stacked against me.. but I actively make these choices every single day... and in theory I'm at peace with my choices- I feel like they are the best ones for my FAMILY... in theory. In practice I cry on my way into work because I"m exhausted and I feel a little lost.. like pieces of me are missing.. those pieces are gone.. now why can't I just let them go. Acceptance is why I can't let them go. I have yet to accept- in practice, that this is my life.. this is the life I've chosen to live, and though it's not perfect, I continue to believe I'm making the best choices for my family... I continue to feel sad when I hear of outings and see photos of friends I've known forever.. I feel sad I couldn't go- or didn't even know what was "shakin" that day or night. In theory I want to go out and do those things and be in those pictures... in practice I don't have nearly enough time, the coordination of times, or the energy- one night, hour, minute away from my schedule.. and I have twice that much time to make up for when I return. It's so hard... I want to practice letting go.. I want to practice acceptance... I want to turn my theory into practice and feel good and well and balanced. I want to not feel the need to continue to prove myself to people that could really give two shits- I want to accept that my existance is not what it once was, but has now evolved into something different.. something new... where different things are important.. I want to find some peace within myself to not internalize every single happening in this world. I want to stop questioning every event and analyzing every breath. I want to remove my buttons so there's nothing to press.. I want to stop clinging to everything like it matters- I want to just be- in my moment, in my life, and stop worrying about what everyone else thinks of me. I think, I think I just want to love me for me... and be okay with who I was, who I am, and who I will be. Breathe. I want some time to breathe.. properly. Full breaths. I would love a moment of peace- to feel the sheer joy for all the wonderful things I have the honour of having in my life. I want to be able to focus primarilly on the positives and leave the negatives in the past where they belong... Really, is it too much to ask of myself? At this moment, yes... at this moment it's too much to ask for me to lift onemore finder and do one more single thing- but maybe I will start to move theory into practice tomorrow- or--- maybe I'll just bitch about it some more....

I'm Not That Simple... Saturday, September 26, 2009 at 1:09am

To Whom it May Concern: c/o The Early Pregnancy Assesment Center: BC Women's Hospital,To you, I may just be another number; one of the many percentages and 1 in whatevers that you threw at me through my tears. I may be "one of the lucky ones who can actually get pregnant" but the fact of the matter is, I am holding a dead baby hostage in my body... that may be a fact for you, a simple statistic, but for me, it's just not that simple. To start off, Katherine when you called me re: my referral you were an angel. Your soft voice with your pretty accent. Thank you for letting me cry. Thank you for letting me not understand. Thank you for repeating yourself 100 times because I did not have the ability to retain the smallest amount of information. Thank you for giving me options- I am upset that not all of the information was explained in my options, but I will get to that further into this letter.When I arrived at the clinic I was told to empty my bladder because I would be having an ultrasound. Why? I don't want to see it again. There is nothing to see. Nothing. I asked the receptionist to refer to my chart and she shrugged and asked me to empty my bladder. A nurse called me in to a small room filled with ultrasound pictures of healthy babies and newborn shots of teeny red little beans.. and fired questions at me.. briefly explaining that she was sorry for my loss. I asked about the u/s and she said I didn't need one. There was nothing to confirm. Literally... so that 20 minutes I panicked while I waited to be called in was for nothing.. it may be routine to you, but I am not a number, I am a human. PLease understand that I need you to know what you're talking about when I arrive. I need you to know that I've lost my baby. I can't tell you that... in a room full of people. Please read my chart. Once in the room and my medical history was taken- the procedure was briefly explained to me. The option I had chosen was that with a "concious sedation" so I would likely not remember the event and would not feel any pain. It was to be done in the "clinic" upstairs. I thought that "clinic" was for early pregnancy loss.. I didn't know. No one told me. My other options were general anesthetic or advil and tylenol with a medicine to loosen my cervix. I would be awake and remember everything. NO thank you.I met with a dr. then who briefly assessed me once again. Explaining again the procedure, the risks and the benefits. I was told there was no need to wait to start trying due to places like your establishment existing where I could go and have an early u/s done for dating, if I didn't get a period. That's wonderful news thank you. Your nurse then returned to the room to give me some pamphlets from 1994. Helpful. Really. Your nurse then proceeded to tell me I would need to wait one two full cycles before "trying" again. I explained to her that the dr. had just told me there was no need to wait. The nurse then informed me I would have a chance of miscarrying again due to complications... I explained to her that when I asked the dr. not 10 minutes ago the dr told me there are no known complications... the nurse told me there are. Wait: I'm confused.. oh.. silly me, nevermind, it's only my life. The next day I arrived. Dropped off at the gates by my husband as babies and children are not allowed in the "clinic" Once I walked through the doors after being buzzed in, I realized.. this clinic is for termination, not loss. I was asked who would be picking me up, I explained my husband and daughter would be, the receptionist peeked at me, 'oh you have a daughter". Yes. I do. Almost two. I was then told to change into a skirt and then talk to one of the nurses... okay she told me I could hop in this bed- but only if I could tell her the song playing on the radio... is this a joke?? Is this funny to you, something to laugh and smile about, oh wait, you haven't read my chart. In a room with 6 other beds separated only by curtains I waited. LIstening to other women and girls talk.. with and without translators. Nervous and not. I sat there in my bed, in my weird skirt in the middle of the room listening... to everybody's personal story. I am not here because I want to be. I am not here because this is the choice I've made (okay, technically it is, but is not my first choice). My teary eyes and shaking shoulders are spotted by a woman... who comes over to tell me I'm in a safe place. A safe place where everyone can hear my secrets? I start to sob and I rest my head in my knees, she wraps her arms around me, thank you, it feels good to have some kind of comfort. Then she tells me that my heart wants one thing, but my head knows what's best for me... that I have made this choice to make sure I have a better life, to not bring a baby into the world when I wasn't ready. My sobbing stopped.. and I sternly explained wth a snotty face, that I had in fact lost my baby, that I was not here because this is how I imagined the delivery of my second child. Oh wait, you haven't read my chart. I'm then told that when it doesn't happen naturally this is better than waiting for infection to take over my uterus. Soothing. I am then told that 55% of pregnancies end this way. Really? 55%? That is a new number. I think my yelling and sobbing has made the song nurse realize that I don't need to be lighthearted... that it's in fact, not going to happen. I am devastated. My medical history is taken again, I'm given some advil and antibiotics to minimize infection. I have seen three women come and go into and out of the room. I have listened to them talk, and now their silence. No wait, it's not silent.. there is music on and nurses are singing. Due to staffing issues I waited about 90 minutes until it was my turn. The nurse who gave me my iv had read my file. She softly empathized with me and asked me about my other children.. my one. My Abby. She asked about Abby's health for some reason.. I explained a little about her arthritis.. my what a tough year I am having. For a brief moment I'm not a number. I'm a human with feelings and someone is listening. There are no statistics being hurled at me. Dated or outdated. Once in the room the dr. explains that 1 in 10 pregnancies end this way- but.. wait..I thought it was 55%? or if you ask the dr. from yesterday I think it was 40%... the radiologist says 30%. I nod. I lay back and am given some pain meds and something to sedate me. But I don't fall asleep.. I can feel it working, I can hear him start and feel my uterus empty, and I cry... and cry and cry.. the paper sheet is wet with my tears.. and my nurse tries to talk to me and distract me.. realizing it's not going to work.. she tells me to cry.. and let it out... and to not stop crying until I'm done. I am a human.I am not allowed to walk back to the big room like the other girls. I have to be wheeled due to my high blood pressure. My nurse dissapears, she is busy. I am left with the song nurse who wants to check my bleeding. I let her and then I rest. Alone. Sad. Empty. She asks if I'm ready to go.. but says there is no rush. I am ready. I think. She hands me an envelope to take to my dr. when I see her in 2 weeks. I go to the bathroom one more time and I walk out. Alone. No one says good bye. No one notices I left. I walked in alone, I walked out alone.. what if I decided to drive my car home? No one would know... I left: a number. A statistic. A 1 in whatever. Jay and Abby were waiting for me. Jay not even able to look into my weary eyes and Abby not sure if I'm even her Mommy I look so sad. They take me home and I rest. I am a human. I don't care how many women walk through the doors of your clinic. Don't rush me. Or ignore me.. or stare at the ceiling when I cry. Don't tell me I'm one of the lucky ones who can actually get pregnant. Read my file. I am NOT a statistic. I am a woman who has a daughter with arthritis, a stepdad who was killed by a drunk driver in the middle of the day, the wife to a man who nearly killed himself falling off a roof, I am the mother of a dead baby. I am a human.I understand early pregnancy assessment does not just deal with loss. I understand there are bigger things out there to deal with than my empty sac- but try to live in MY moment. Put on my shoes for 10 seconds and talk to me and treat me the way I deserve to be treated. I am devastated and terrified and though this may not be the end of your world- it feels like the end of mine, in my moment. In my life. I would suggest that when you explain the options of medication for the procedure you explain clearly where it will take place. If I would have known that I would be waiting 90 minutes in a room full of women, I would have chosen no pain medication to have my own space to grieve. This procedure may be a technical stage of steps to you, to me it is a process. My body is strong I know that, my emotional well being is fragile and needs space. Privacy. I would like to suggest that your "clinic" have a day, or half day once a week, or month or whenever- depending on which statistic you count losses by, specifically for women who are dealing with loss. A termination is different than a loss. The procedure may be the same, but the process is different. A day where the mood isn't that of a Sunday brunch... I am not saying the nurses should be dressed in black and we play the funeral march in the background.. but take the women who are dealing with this tragedy at face value. Understand their sadness and frailness. Empathize with their need for answers- and decide within the clinic which statistic and timeline for "trying" again that you will offer. I understand that sometimes "these things just happen" and it's all "for a reason" but picture yourself in the shoes or the weird procedure skirt of the women before you.. slotting themselves into statistics as you offer them... we are confused enough. Pick a number. I am not a statistic. I'm just not that simple... and I truly resent being treated that way. Dealing with this process- your procedure- has been like dealing with a failed birth plan, only I don't get to hold my baby in my arms to comfort me and tell me it all worked out in the end- It's just not that simple.

A Carrier of Empty... Tuesday, September 15, 2009 at 12:31am

There are many reasons I hate statistics. They are annoying.. difficult to calculate, and different depending on which way you choose to look at them.This weekend I became a statistic I have dreaded for a long time. A number I wouldn't wish on anyone.. I have become part of the 30% of women who will lose a baby... of course depending on the article or the type of misscarriage that number could be higher or lower, or depending on which fuck face piece of crap no bedside manner radiologist you speak with it could also vary. This weekend we all piled into the car for a nice Saturday outing to see the new baby. I was supposed to be 10 weeks on the dot... due April 10/2010.. how exciting.. how wonderful.. how amazing.. how lovely..At my first pre-natal visit at 7 weeks I expresed to my dr. my concern about getting pregnant the first month I was off the pill.. she assured me there are many viable pregnancies this way but could not of course, guarentee that nothing would go wrong.. but she was trying to reassure me. I was nervous.. she is amazing so she decided to send me for an early u/s to calm my nerves and let me get a little peek at the tiny perfect beating heart and teeny hands and feet... When I got into the little room- with Jay and Abby waiting in the waiting area with the bitchy receptionists.. the tech told me right away that I wasn't 10 weeks. No. How could that be? My body is like a clock.. of course I was 10 weeks.. she asked me to empty my bladder half way (those of you who have had to do this undertand how fucking painful it is to only pee a teeny bit when your bladder is bursting) try doing that when you can't breathe because you're in a total panic. Back in the room I hear the tick, click of measurements... and then she tells me she doesn't see much.. but she does see what could be a yolk sac. Tears fell from my eyes.. she tried to tell me that maybe I just ovulated late.. umm 5 weeks (what a baby is at 5 weeks is a yolk sac) is an awful big difference.. I moaned and cried.. I knew... there was no hope.She had to do a trans-vaginal u/s to confirm there was "no viable fetus". Shudder... tears tears tears.. She saw nothing... just a sac that stopped growing at 8 weeks.. with nothing inside it. I am as it turns out, currently, a carrier of nothing... My dreams, my baby names.. my thoughts of nursing and snuggling and loving.. were all a nothing. Finally Jay was allowed into the room- after she told me I was young and could easily just try again.. umm.. thanks? I had to tell him there was no baby.. it was awful. I couldn't stop crying.. even though from the very start, part of me knew, but the other part, the bigger part tried to convince me I was being, as usual, pessimistic and I just needed to accept that good things can happen to me.. We met with a radiologist who simply stated that 30% of pregnancies end this way and that there is bleeding around my uterus so it looks like my body will expel it soon. "how long?" he doesn't know, "will it hurt?" not sure how much.. there. Simple as that.. he waited for us to get up and leave. And I walked out of the u/s place as fast as I could with no pride.. just snot and tears running down my face.So I am waiting to miscarry. Miscarry my nothing. Expel my little hope and dreams of cuddles and love. I cannot go and see my dr. til Weds. There likely isn't much to do anyway... just wait.. but so far there is no movement.. just a lot of cramping that I thought was my uterus stretching to make way for the bean. I looked it up online, since i was given no clue as to why this happens.. and it seems as though it might be what is called a bilghted ovum.. I'm not a dr. so I'm not sure.. medically diagnosing yourself isn't usually the best idea.. but hey.. since I can't leave the house for too long I've got time.. what happens is nearly right away the baby (embryo/zygote whatever) stops developing.. due to a poor quality sperm or egg.. or because the zygote divided funny to make some weird chromosonal abnormalities- so basically my body was saving me the sadness of a baby that wouldn't have been healthy- but.. much like revenue canada... one person doesn't talk to the other so no one knows your full fucking story even though you've told them 12 times, the other half of my body missed what should have miscarried and continued to act as if it was housing a baby.. until 2 weeks ago when it finally clued it.. and now, for some strange reason I'm being tortured.. because my body doesn't want to let it go... so I'm waiting. I want to get this overwith.I have closed myself off from most of my friends.. not because I don't think they love me or are sad for me or wanted the best for me.. but because no matter what the intention is... it's really really hard to say the right thing right now. So far I have heard, "you can try again" a million times. Yes. we can.. but that's not the point, I'm dealing with a loss here... and you know I know in my heart people don't say that because they are insensitive.. trying to be encouraging and reassuring that we will have another baby is anything but.. but it's so hard to just accept it.. at least right now.. with the nothing inside me. My neighbourhood milfies have been very good to me. I think over the past--- nearly 2 years, we've grown very close- hey I let them in my messy house, that's a big step... I know everyone who knows is thinking of us.. and sending us your thoughts.. and i wanted to say thank you for just letting me have my space and letting me send text messages or emails over answering the phone.. it's not because I don't need or appreciate the support.. I'm just in a position that I never imagined being in.. well let's face it.. I've imagined it.. but it's been one of my worst nightmares. My friend Sarah left me a beautiful message all teary and sad.. but she told me "not to cry alone" and every time I re-live that message in my mind I cry... I guess by writing this I'm not crying alone (also because I snotted on her shirt).. and plus, I'm shameless and these notes are like free therapy... no one has to say anything... it's just off my chest.. I don't know if its been read or not.. but I'm freed of a little more of my sorrow and sadness... in an email from Amy she wrote, "think of it this way: be kind to your body while you wait. don't feel angry or betrayed by yourself. in a way you are still doing your job as a woman by letting the process end in a peaceful way. it will come very soon. i know you wanted to be pregnant. that is the hardest part that i think people don't understand --- you get attached to the dream...the due date, the time of year, you start thinking about the age differences between the two and about possible names. so when that is over it feels really sad. it is so hard especially since people don't get that. but it will fade with time. but you have the mourn the end of that little dream." The little notes and the "I love yous" and "I'm thinking of you" I think have gotten me through the day.. so I want to thank everyone for that.. it's been very hard. Seeing my husband cry tore my heart out.. I am trying to be strong for him and funny and normal.. but it's a challenge. We will try again. When we found out I was so full of surprise.. and joy, excitement, fear.. and instant love. Life is so fragile.. even before it begins. I wonder since I'm sharing my grief with everyone if I should just share my joy as soon as I know next time- or, is that a jinx like part of me believes.. a lesson to not be so confident and smug- a lesson to remind me that at any moment that teeny heart can stop beating- or not even begin to beat. I guess time will tell... but I want to work on being more positive. So... for now I wait. Never in my life have I wanted to see blood more than I do now. I want the nothing out... I want my body back. I want to grieve and get it over with, so in a while we can make a something. Thanks for listening.

Tradesies... Thursday, July 2, 2009 at 10:33pm

It's been far too long since I've been able to sit and show everyone the heart on my sleeve.. no time.. no energy left.. mostly no time.. you all know me, I've always got energy to talk about myself. I'm very pleased it's July.. usually when the nice weather hits I want time to stand still.. so I can enjoy my flip flops and time pulling weeds in the sun... but June was a terrible month for me... My stepdad was killed by a drunk driver on June 4, 2009.. he was on his way back from Port Alice where he was working in the mill on a 4 on 4 off rotation.. he was going home to see my Mom. I spoke with my Mom on the phone around 930 that night.. my sister was here and had taken Jay to a concert so I had to call someone to brag about a sweet slo pitch double play (ya.. I am a total loser) and she had mentioned Wes wasn't home yet- knowing Wes I told her he was likely just lollygagging, like her, he's always late... we ended our call at 10pm and he still wasn't home.. officially around 7 hours late... 36 minutes later I got a call from my Uncle- telling me Wes was in an accident and had been killed. I was home alone, with Abby in her bed, not knowing the tragedy that had just struck our family.. I sobbed and all I could repeat is, "someone has to go there, someone has to go there, she can't be alone" I hung up with Chris to call my Mom.. who was there with victim services.. unable to speak.. just sob. I packed up and left first thing in the morning.. okay.. well I caught the 10am ferry.. but i had to get up at 6am to get myself together.. when I arrived in Port Alberni.. I had no words for my Mom.. just tears and hugs- There were so many unanswered questions.. that even now are still needing answers.. the other driver survived.. at 315 in the afternoon at 120kms an hour he crossed the center line of the highway taking Wes' life instantly.. last we heard he was still in the hospital.I had to stay focused.. I had taken off work, though I make a shitty wage, the Mazzones are NOT in the financial position where I could afford to miss any of the shifts I did.. and originally I thought it would just be one or two.. but I ended up staying for 10 days.. Logic left me and I had to follow my heart and my gut and stay with my Mom... and my sisters who knew Wes so well.. I made the cremation arrangements and with a combined effort wrote the obituary and the memorial service story.. I hadn't cried at all since the first night.. I lost it every time someone came by with food to hug my grieving Momma.. but I managed most of the time to just get out of the room before a tear hit the floor.. such a desperate time.. where there is no "appropriate" behaviour.. The only thing I knew how to do was to just take charge and do what needed to be done.. which was a lot, but I wouldn't have done it any other way and this is by no means a complaint or a need for appreciation.. Wes was my family- he would have done the same for me and more... The day after the service I had to return home.. straight from the ferry I went into work.. more distractions for me.. it was good.. I missed it. I was exhausted... I feel like Abby knew her family was experiencing loss because she would not let me out of her sights for the entire 10 days.. so many people there will to watch her, but I couldn't get a break.. well.. except for my amazing 6am runs. At work I just kept on keeping on.. being back allowed me to once again reduce my stinking stupid meds.. trying desperately at what feels like the worst time to do so, to get off of them so that we can try for a mini Abby- I feel unbalanced.. and overwhelmed... my determination to complete this task is faltering and I am about to admit I still need a little bit of a crazy pill fix.. The day after we returned home I had to take Abby to an opthamologist to check for uvenitis- which is an eye disease that effects children who have arthritis.. especially young girls with variety of arthritis that Ab has.. great.. fun.. the dr was the biggest fucking bitch (pardon me) I have ever met.. a urologist for geriatrics would have had a kinder hand and more appropriate bedside manner than this woman I will not see her again. That same day Ab had to get a bunch of blood work done and I have to beg the lady at the lab to let us put our names in after waiting 45 minutes to run out and come back in 20 minutes (Ab had had her pupils dialated and we needed to just run back to the bitchy opthamologist for her to peek in them) the day was a nightmare.. then I went to work.. you might think it's funny.. to dwell on a day like this.. but I think I do because it's hard.. with Abby's arthritis we will have many more days like this. Two days later we went to Children's to the rhemetology clinic.. we see a group of amazing dr's and nurses and of course everything went fine, aside from me bashing the opthomolgist-- Abby's ankles are swollen now.. she looks kind of like she has baby pregnant legs.. poor thing.. her range of motion is still good.. but the ankles are a worriesome group of joints and Ab was prescribed the methaltrexate as well as steriod joint injections- I was warned that if we were planning on adding to our family I should not be the one to touch the medicine.. I should stay right away from it.. I should wear gloves when changing her poopy diapers.. why?? because it causes wicked birth defects.. right.. and I'm supposed to feel good about giving this to my baby?! I got the meds.. with Jay's half assed shitty extended medical.. I read and read.. and found this medication, also used for cancer patients, should not be given with any immunizations.. well Abby hasn't had her 18 month shots yet.. (yes I know I need to get on it) so I decided to wait.. and worry some more.. At the appointment for her joint injections.. the sedative didn't work.. it did at first and we had a little drunk baby on our hands.. but she wouldn't sleep.. so we had to hold her down.. I don't need to go into details about how much I cried (a lot) and how my heart was being ripped out as I watched her little mouth open wide and scream.. tears rushing down her face.. it was awful... Thankfully our little Abby is happy as a clam.. the next day she was her usual self.. I am still traumatized and don't know if I can be in the room during the next set of them (6-12months).. though how can I leave her alone to be scared with people she doesn't know.. I can't.. I wil have to be the grown up and just suck it up.. like I'm supposed to just suck everything up... I'm on a diet people.. I can't keep this up. I have so much fear about this aggresive medicating- yet I am more comfortable living in ignorance then trying to research alternative methods.. that's another thing.. there is no way we can even afford to explore naturopathic medicine.. unless we can come and live with you?? I'm glad I followed my gut with the MTX because after a group consultation of the Dr's I receieved a call confirming that we have to wait 4 weeks afer her shots for her to take the meds.. she can just continue on the naproxin like she will have to do forever until then.. I know she needs it... it's just scary.. it's terrifying. The day before Ab's joint injections I got a call from work.. Jay had fallen off a roof.. he is okay.. alive.. I went to the site to see and I shouldn't have.. it was high.. and jsut his luck he fell out the ONE place where there wasn't a second safety bar... I am thankful he is okay and just has a very sore hand and super bruised ass.. and some hefty aches and pains.. but he is in one piece.. he will be having some minor surgery to explore some tendon damage and all we can hope for is it's July now, June is over, let it be okay... he is on "light duty" at work.. and it feels so terrible to me as his wife to want him to be at work.. with this economy and Jay's lack of legal work experience we can't afford for him to get "fired" for "being late, swearing, looking funny" if he were to return to work after filing a WCB claim... the logic.. it's back.. at the wrong time and it's tearing at my heart.. but I have to think of Abby.. of our rent.. of his giant student loan bill.. of my line of credit getting higher and higher.. when it previously sat at 0. It seems like a lot of ranting now.. for stuff that really isn't that big of a deal.. but it is to me... I haven't seen or heard from old friends in a really long time.. and everyone is busy.. I feel like I have absolutely no life at all.. but I must because I'm busy and I have no time.. I have no time to chase people around and keep calling and calling and calling.. and my heart can't take it anyway.. my ego can't take it. I'm not as fun as I used to be.. because I have to go home early to get up early-- I have to worry about feeding my family and watering my garden and getting that fucking flat tire fixed.. no one is going to do it for me.. my pity party continues as I am insanely jealous of anyone who can say, "I did absolutely nothing yesterday" I wish. I wish I could do that.. now.. I lack the relaxation techniques to sit still for longer than five minutes.. I'm wound so tight my brain hurts.. I worry so much my jaw is in constant pain.. I think about everything.. every breath, every morsel of food to cross my lips- 5 lbs away from my goal and I feel so defeated.. like i can't go on- or think about one more thing- count one more point. I would love more than anything to sleep past 6am and not work out and just lay in bed with a big bag of chips.. but I can't. I have equated beauty to fit the mold of the rest of the world.. that me being thinner is better.. that I'll be happier.. I'm not.. I'm tired. I'm tired of trying... yes.. I am much healthier.. hey I can run now?! That's amazing.. I do enjoy my work outs- a temporary alone time where I can watch commercialess dvds and zone out in puddles of my own sweat.. but my exhaustion makes me short with Abby- or it could be the decreased medication.. or my moon time.. or my lonlieness.. I never know if what I'm doing is the "right" thing to do.. I had no idea at the beginning of the month in Port Alberni.. I watched everyone's grief.. and I barely participated.. is it because I'm heartless... too busy? too focused? or too afraid to let go of some of the control I'm desperatley clinging too... I don't have much control.. I do over when I wake up- sometimes when I go to bed.. and other than that-- I feel I need to work as much as I can to gain some control over our financial situation- series of events have led to its sliding- I struggle with looking for additional or alternative employment.. so I can get more bang for my buck--- or more buck for my bang I guess (don't be perverted). I love my job- but I have such a hard time accepting the system... the rates of pay and the levels of what is acceptable- I'm an overachiever- and sometimes thank you is nice- maybe I need to just find myself some more thank yous? I love my job- I would hate to leave- but better medical benefits would be nice- and seeing my husband for more than 20 minutes a week would be an added bonus- I will be watching Abby's little buddy Sadie 4 mornings a week starting next week- and I am happy about that.. Sadie is smart, she'll have Abby counting to 10 in no time- I don't want to fail and let anyone down- I don't htink I will.. I love all the babies (plus they keep each other entertained!!) I don't know the point of my rant... just a debrief maybe.. I'm down almost 30lbs.. like .2 lbs away from that or something silly- but it's been moved from my ass (well... okay it's still mostly on my ass) okay my boobs (I have nothing left) to my shoulders.. and it's been sitting there.. it's tradesied itself from my body to my soul.. and I need to practice moving it from my shoulders just- out of my life. I owe it to my family to be able to find some siliver linings.. something positive.. sometimes it just feels so hard.. and it doesn't help when your friends tell me a thunder cloud follows me around and people better not touch me or they'll have bad luck.. yea I know.. funny funny.. but if you say that at the wrong time these days I'm liable to just break down and cry.. which is what I need.. instead of wasting all your time here by wriitng a non-sequential rant I should have been doing that.. oh well.. I've wasted the time now- 6am comes early so I better get to bed.. I owe it to my little Abby to be happy tomorrow.. she is so good at pointing out the little things, like planes and tractors- and getting people to wave at her- maybe every time I look into her big blue eyes I should appreciate- and practice letting go...