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...

RE: Cryptic Status Updates... Saturday, May 16, 2009 at 8:37am

Abby is fine... We're fine.. I'm just known to be a litttttle dramatic... Here is the update I emailed my family about Ab's arthritis. I have a friend who told me she had something very similar as a young girl- she told me it made her stronger and she wouldn't change it.. so I think Abby will be the same way.. I've partially digested this news and with Jay's support and unaffected optimism (I hope Abby gets that as I sure don't have it!) we will just work with it... we already started our morning off with a bubble bath and she's close to walking already! So I will adjust to having my morning coffee in the bathroom- why not.. I do all my other alone time things in there :) So thanks for the concern and the love yo. I take comfort in the fact that it could, "be worse" Ab doesn't seem to let anything get her down.. so I will follow suite and do the same.. she's a good teacher. Hello Again, So. It's been a long-ass day.. we had our appt. at Children's today.. with a pediatric fellow, pediatric rhematologist, (apparently the best in Canada) a clinical nurse who specializes in arthritic kids, and a physiotherapist who was so sweet and gave Ab some "s-m-a-r-t-i-e-s" (I'm like she's smart but can't spell yet and yes she can have some).. we were there for two and a half hours and Abby was so good... She played and was so cute people kept popping in the room to see her little cindy-loo-who pigtails saying, "ohhh she is cute!!" That was nice.. Anyway, the news: Abby has been diagnosed with juvenile idopathic arthritis (I think idopathic means unknown). Abby has the mildest form which is known as Oligoarticular (four joints or less). Both her knees are very swollen and her right ankle and one of her fingers.. and quite possibly her apparently freakishly short fourth toes (he let me know gently that those are a little weird) In addition to the swelling and pain Ab is unable to fully extend both legs and is unable to bend both knees to the point she should be able to.. same thing goes for that one finger (the ring finger) and her right ankle.Unfortunately it isn't curable- but it is treatable. They have upped Ab's dose of naproxin- to 3ml twice a day according to her weight and hopefully it will actually start working.. as of right now it's not- it's helping abit but not as it should.. if that doesn't work by our next visit (6 weeks) Ab will then likely get a joint injection.. which is injecting medicine right into the joints (duh) she will have ot be put under anesthitic- so we're not thinking about that right now because it's sad and terrifying. Ab will also be doing some physio after her next appt. and Jay and I will be giving her a bath in the morning to warm her joints up.. we have some exercises to do there like kicking and splashing water (how fun for cleaning) and getting her to point at things with her toes instead of her hands.. we are to encourage her to use a push car backwards and forwards.. so basic stuff that to her will actually be fun.. the physiotherapist was so funny.. she said, I know it's a pain to give her two baths a day (Ab loves her bedtime bath and she said it's good to keep that going as it will relax her joints again) but it will make her joints feel better... and you don't even have to use soap in the morning ;) Cute. The Dr. told me Ab can be a ballerina or a cowboy whatever she chooses and we just keep treating with the meds to avoid damage to the joints to the point she cannot use them. We still have to get our bloodwork done..today she was so tired I couldn't bear to put her through any more poking.. she was a trooper though. We will also be seeing the opthomologist to rule out uvenitis (I'm not sure how to spell it) if Abby does have it she will have to use lots of eye drops to prevent sight loss.. but we'll worry about that when we get to it.. Because of the arthritis though Ab will have to have eye tests done every 3 months... I wonder if all the s-m-a-r-t-i-e-s will fatten her up?? Anyway, I think that's it. I'm sad from repeating this story.. so.. hopefully Ab won't remember this as Jay and I do.. it could go away within a year, or five years or 10.. so fingers crossed :) Love you All

I am Slowly Going Crazy 123456 Switch... Saturday, February 28, 2009 at 10:47pm

No the amnesia has not kicked it. I remember. Everything. I remember the screaming.. the wailing, the near shakings, the exhaustion, the smell of my stinky armpits. The screaming. I remember it. I remember labour. I remember how out of control I felt.. Terrified. So it's not that. I haven't forgotten how hard the beginning is. Scratch that. It's just hard period. It seems easier now and I think in part because I've gotten more used to being a parent, but also because babies learn to comminucate better. Abby's little personality is developing so I usually understand what a crying fit is about.. I know what to expect at what time.. there isn't any driving around in the middle of the night in the pouring rain crying my eyes out anymore. I'm confident in myself as a Mother. The second guessing is less and less now and I let myself trust that I will only do what is best for Abby. I've adapted. Things are not perfect don't get me wrong.. but I think I did a fairly decent job at dealing with the things I have been thrown in the past while. I got over trying to "do it by myself" fairly quickly (though in hindsight not nearly quick enough) and I got the help I needed. I started to verbalize my needs and make sure they were, for the most part, met. I did the counseling, I took the drugs, I found the support, the time away and the independence I felt I had lost. I mourned my old life.. and now, I am starting to accept the new life. Acceptance is on the most difficult things we have to do in life (wise words of Jeff Hare!). It's not easy. It doesn't happen overnight.. and I think naturally as humans we tend to fight the things we need to accept the most. Maybe some sort of survival tactic. I enjoy nearly every single moment of being a Mom. I even enjoy having company while I pee.. okay not enjoy but I'm used to it. A little bean wanders in with a book and wants to sit on my lap and read while I go about my business.. that's fine.. adds a little excitement to an otherwise mundane activity.. though just a note.. I've managed to read 5 novels in the bathroom since I've had Abby.. that little green room has become my tiny sanctuary when Jay comes home from work.. I can go in and shut the door and not be bothered for at least 30 minutes..that's a few chapters at minimum!I get such joy watching Abby. I can't believe how smart she is.. the other day while I was ransacking through Jay's closet to make room for one of my many baskets.. I came across a computer mouse... I threw it into my garbage pile and Abby stared at it and the wheels were turning. She picked it up and wandered over to the computer.. put it on the desk while she tried to plub the cord in. I couldn't believe it. She likes to play with the cat water.. and one day I was yelling at her to not dip a dishtowel in the water.. she wasn't.. she was simply wiping up her mess. I love her. I want to squeeze her. I want to kiss her all over and make her giggle. I could still watch her sleep forever (okay in theory.. but when she's sleeping I'm tired too!). There are many moments in a day when I wish I could hit the pause button so I could sit and feel the pride pulse through my body and the pure love and joy fill my soul. During those moments there are no voids in life. Everything is perfect. I think back to my childhood.. playing with my sisters.. Games of cops and robbers, pretending to be newscasters, rich people and mothers to cabbage patch dolls.. with husbands in the NKOTB who were fighting in the war.. I think of mud pies and tree forts, riding bikes through mud puddles, and skating on a frozen pond down the street (no I did not grow up a boy.. I just grew up in Terrace!). I think of times when I defended my sisters and when they did the same for me. I miss them every day now. I want Abby to have that. I want her to have mud puddles and a chance to say, "I'm telling! MOM!!!!" I want her to have a sibling. I feel confident that with both her parents having close relationships with their siblings that she would enjoy a brother or sister as much as I suspect. I know she'll have her moments.. the "I hate you moments" but those are good for learning. Am I ready to go through all of that again? Am I ready for the sadness.. the exhaustion, the loss and grief? Am i ready to be out of control.. I hopefully won't be. I aim to be prepared for the next baby (whenever that happens). I plan to ween off the anti depressents long enough to be pregnant and then have my wonderful doctor hook me up to a Zoloft IV immediately after the birth. I plan to have my AMAZING momma friends be there.. because they know what it's like. I plan to ask for food and laundry service and sleep and help. In theory it all sounds okay.. but who knows what will happen. I need to take a second though and just recognize what I've been through. Hell. I have a new appreciation for anyone who has gone through a bout of depression. It's awful. I understand now why people drive their cars into lakes or lose their jobs. There is no rational when you're sad like that. But I'm here. I've been given the amazing gift of Abby and she's been given the gift of me as her Mom (though I will admit I'm chemically altered). I will take a second to stroke my ego and tell the world that I am a good Mom. I have the ability to love and nurture.. to make Abby laugh and to make her feel safe when she's scared. I can teach her-- and I let her teach me-- patience, understanding, patience ;) Being able to bring life is a gift. It is a gift not everyone has. Being able to nurture life is another gift, that again not all parents have. I sometimes feel so overwhelmed with the love I have for Abby that I'm going to explode.. maybe in part that's why there is talk of another baby (that and Jay is determind to have a boy!) but I just feel like I have enough Mom in me left to spread it around a little. Don't read me wrong. I'm tired. Always tired. I miss sleep.. I miss being able to rest when I want to rest.. and to live in a clean house.. and to stay out late with friends. I miss my friends. But I love having a family... I love watching Abby play with other babies. I love the look of joy she gets on her face when she sees another baby.. or there's someone her size she can play with. I love that she recognizes Kaeden and Violet... I just feel like at some point I'd like her to be happy to see a little brother or sister. So I wonder how crazy am I? I don't think I'm deluding myself.. though when I was gearing up to enter parenthood the first time I swore up and down I was prepared (please note NOTHING can prepare you). I think the second time I have an 80% chance of having PPD. The second time hopefully I won't be so determind to do it alone. Scratch that. I won't be. I will be determind to get help and get a grip on whatever situation I'm in. Of course I'll still cry.. but hopefully the fog that surrounds a second baby will be more exhaustion and malnutrition induced than sadness... and if not.. I'll deal with it. Hey, they way I look at it is, I'm already tired... alll the time, I wear sweatpants on my days off, and I've accepted that with a second baby will likely come the "mom" haircut.. but I have also thought that on the days I decide to have a mental breakdown and sit in the bathroom with the door closed for 30 minutes.. Abby can keep a second baby company.. maybe read him or her a book or two. See.. I've got it alll figured out. Ha!

How I Know I'm a Mom...

1. I started off my day in the "mom" uniform of a fuzzy pink housecoat 2. I can practically time out when Abby's going to have her first poop.. about 3 minutes after I change first diaper. 3. I put my liquid eyeliner on while holding Abby in my arms and brushing her teeth 4. Abby had roasted chicken breast with avacado and candied baby carrots and whole wheat toast for lunch.. and I had 6 ritz crackers and a diet coke. 5. When we were on our walk.. I pointed out a flock of birds and said, "look Abby! Neat-O" Neat-o? what's next "funky?" 6. I am using the slowcooker (I got from another MIlf) weekly at least.. currently brewing up leftover roast beef into a delicious smelling stew. 7. I wash out ziploc bags and use them again.8. I sway back and forth in the grocery store line up even when I'm not holding Abby 9. I am able to manuvuer around the house with a one year old hanging on to both my legs with her head in my crotch. 10. I sneak into the bathroom to hide out and read.. because the door locks. 11. Before shaving my legs (if I even get time) I asses the likeliness of me not being too tired to put out. 12. I'm very very tired.There are more.. but let's face it.. I'm going to have a nap! A few more.. post nap.. of course.. as soon as I drifted.. she woke up. 13. I get excited when diapers go on sale! What are new shoes anyway? 14. I feel that yoga pants and a t-shirt are a legitmate ensemble for nearly any occasion. I was also told this is part of the "mommy uniform" 15. I encourage Abby to eat food off the floor that she's dropped from her highchair so 1. it's not wasted and 2. I have less mess to clean up ~ I have actually considered that a new dog might help me with this. 16. My "me time" is often interupted with laundry needing to be folded, lunch needing to be made, dishes to be done.. bums to be changed.. my me time.. is sleeping.. sometimes through the night! (oh.. and the occasional night out) 17. I'm comfortable whipping out my boobs pretty much anywhere now.. well let's face it.. I was like that before. 18. My catch phrase is "gentle gentle" or "don't put that in your mouth" 19. I love Abby more than anything in this world. 20. I never do just one thing at a time. Every task is multitasked. It's madness. 21. I do what our mothers did.. and use my spit to "clean" Abby's face. 22. I will eat food that Abby has spit out of her mouth. 23. I can pee with a baby on my lap.. even a walking one. 24. I look forward to Wednesdays and Saturdays because I can hide away and read the flyers (but our damn paper man has been slacking off lately!) 25. When I fold the laundry it's mostly Abby's or Jay's.. what is mine is underwear and yoga pants. 26. My life revolves around nap times and developing new ways to get vegetables into Abby 27. I hum "hey it's Franklin" every SINGLE day.

Auto Pilot Off... Saturday, November 15, 2008 at 9:36pm

I have been a Mom for nearly a year. T-minus 7 days and it will be official. Abby will be 1. That teeny little blob I saw at an ultrasound at 9 weeks.. is now nearly 17 pounds and full of energy and adventure. That ultrasound was terrifying, we thought she was gone due to spotting.. I cried with relief when we saw that teeny speedy litlte heartbeat, strong as a herd of horses. Ha.. just watching her these days.. I can see a resemblence in my beautiful little girl to that teeny blob. She is daring and fearless, strong and beautiful... I am back at work, well kinda. Back part time with two set shifts a week and working my way up the relief list begging for more shifts.. A full time position opened up, and I couldn't bring myself to apply. Not because I didn't think I would get it, or because I don't want to work that much, I love my job... I love the program and it's mandate and philosophies, the staff, the youth.. pretty much everything but I guess.. I'm just not ready. I worked nearly 60 hours a week before I had Abby.. two jobs with youth.. and I enjoy being busy, out and about in the world... but believe it or not.. after working two days it takes me two more to recover from the extra work! I feel like such a wussy.. how do Mommies do it I wonder??! We have made the decision to continue being the "working poor" so one of us and be with Abby.. and that's just a personal choice.. I think child care is wonderful if 1. you can FIND it. and 2. if you can AFFORD it... but we're not ready to let her go just yet. We realize how lucky other new parents are to have family around to count on.. even just for an hour or two so we could catch a movie.. it's crazy.. every single move is a production. This year has been quite the journey for me.. the beginning of a journey I should say.. fuck. Rocky roads, seized transmission, turbulance, wrong side of the tracks, not on the yellow brick road, back allies, underground tunnels, secluded forrests, and six lane highways.. it's been rough.. let's put it that way.. and I haven't hidden that at all.. some may say to a fault.. I've been honest to a fault.. but I really don't give a shit.. I don't have a single drop of energy left to hide it... I would have to think too hard of excuses... and I'd rather just sleep.. anyway, through my journey there has been a lot of bad weather and storms.. all different kinds.. but also.. teeny moments of rainbows and sunshine.. and I try desperately to cling to those moments.. remembering my old self and the ability I had to smile at almost anything, to make light of almost any situation.. I remember.. 30 seconds seems forever and my body can relax for a moment.. I get elated, almost high.. and then.. I take a step back into my gloom :( Those 30 seconds though have been getting longer these days.. I have accepted that I'm going to lose some friends.. or maybe not lose them, but see them less.. have less to talk about because believe it or not, not everyone wants to hear about poop and baby food... weird isn't it?? My relationships have changed.. I have accepted most.. some I still struggle with. Some have changed for the better.. my Dad for example, proudly stops in every week or so to see his second grand daughter.. I feel for once, he might actually be proud of me, he even told me I was a good Mom.. huge compliment coming from my father, as those of you who have met him know.. I am closer to my Mom.. call her every second day or so.. just to let her listen to Abby.. oooh little tears now.. it kills me not to have my Mom here... and my sisters. I think I understand now, watching Abby learn things, her first steps and baby signs.. I understand now more than ever my role as a Mother.. it's not just the basic things I felt it was in auto pilot mode through post partum depression.. it is to love, and nurture, encourage and teach... it is to be proud.. and these past few days I think I understand that pride a parent gets when they see their child.. you might think that's silly.. it's taken me a whole year to feel proud, and that's not the case... I think the fog is lifting slightly, for now anyway, and I can actually feel myself feeling happy things.. I spent a lot of Abby's first year wanting time to stand still.. so I could feel better and remember everything as peachy and rosey.. and now I really look forward to my future with her. Watching her.. God I could watch her all day. Watch her sleep, and strategize... her expression when she eats.. or how excited she gets when I yell, "yaaaaaaaayyyy!" to her few baby steps.. I could go on forever... I could watch her forever. Self care has saved me. Nights away with old friends.. or new ones have saved me. Being independent from Jay and Abby during those times has allowed me to find a bit of myself I lost.. each time I gained a bit of confidence back and snatched a bit more of my sense of humour. I will continue these alone time nights because I think it's something I need... I've gone from being fiercly independent for 28 years.. to depending on someone for help every day (some days I tell ya.. I certainly didn't get it.. but for the most part I do!) I struggled with losing the power of my independence and my away time allows me to feel a tinch of independence again.. and I love it...I look forward to work.. when I leave Monday nights I'm sad that unless someone gets sick I won't be back until Sunday morning.. I am happy to have just slipped back in without too much trauma (minus my car breaking down on my first day back.. on my way INTO work!) I can still problem solve and make rational decisions.. my skills are still there.. dusted off now. My ears are open to listen objectively and offer advice and referrals.. I feel like I am good at my job... and that feels really good... I look forward to leaving to go to work each day.. and I look forward to coming home.. to my little Abby.. who has usually learned something new in the 8 or 9 hours I've been away.. which on one hand breaks my heart to have missed it, and on the other I want to be somewhat generous and let Jay enjoy some of those firsts.. as he's been working hard too (with a lot of nagging.. errrr I mean coaching from his nasty wife!). I know Abby's actual birthday will be hard for me.. for one.. I'll be at work.. and for another.. I'm a sap.. for memories.. and those first weeks.. months.. were so foggy I have a feeling the guilt of that will visit me.. and since I am a sap.. I'll likely entertain it.. I just hope it's not some kind of after hours straggler I have to fight with to leave! I think too, I need to take comfort in not regretting things but rather learning from them. I believe regret is a wasted emotion, or I used to anyway, and I know I wouldn't change a single thing about Abby, though I did regret not being able to handle my emotions those first months, but what's the point of that? I can't change it now. I will look at it as that is just who I am... a lady who has always worn her heart on her sleeve, I am raw with emotion, I always have been... and I don't think that's all bad. I love Abby with all of my heart and soul, all of the pieces of them that I have... and as I gather more pieces on my journey, I will love her with those as well.

Letter Grades...Tuesday, September 30, 2008 at 11:07pm

Holy tears Batman!! Where the FUCK did those come from?? Well.. let's see.. it allll started with my little meltdown after hearing I didn't get the position I interviewed for.. would have been perfect.. well no, that's not true, but there would have been perfect things about it. The plan was going to be, Jay will go to work, I'll love, cuddle, nurture and nourish Abby during the day, then drive to work, Jay would then finish his work day and catch the bus and meet me, I'd take his pass, he'd take the babe and the car.. and switch we would young Jedi... this would leave us both completely and utterly exhausted but would also bring us back into the black financially and we'd have Abby with one of us.. which is what we've planned on doing... We'd never see each other-- but at this point, that might be a blessing. I really don't think Jay signed up to move from his home, his friends, family and even country to live with a certifiable crazy woman... correct me if I'm wrong though. Okay, so we're at the bad news, which let's face it, isn't entirely bad. My supervisor is super accomodating and had so many positive thigns to say about me and also has some things in mind which sound good to me... so.. I get that news.. and am about 30 seconds away from walking into my PPD support group.. and into the arms of women with bigger problems than me. At this point I'm trying not to blubber.. trying desperately to walk into the room like I do every Monday morning with my make up on, my coffee in hand and a semi smile on my face... my faker mask. The "I'm doing okay" Amy.. which honestly, lasts usually about 30 seconds into my turn to talk before I sputter verbal diarreha on everyone there. Surprising coming from someone who appears so "put together". I get the looks.. the "are you okay?" looks. The "oh my God what's wrong looks" the "I wish I could make it all better looks" which are hard to take. In a room full of caring women I broke down... and cried, and cried and blubbered and spewed... and for a few seconds I felt better, validated, unselfish, and real. The faker Amy was gone, washed away with my mascara... even my eyeliner. ugh. I think I used half a box of tissues muttering nonsense about a time machine and how I feel like I'm a giant monster to my husband and a neglectful momma to Abby... helpful suggestions were thrown my way and instantly dismissed as I admitted that I have no strength to even try right now. My focus at this poiint, sadly, is purely survival. Someone described the feeling of this kind of depresion as wearing a lead vest, you know the kind you wear at the dentist when you get your teeth x-rayed (my memory may be out of date now, it's been 10 years since I've been to the dentist, I'm terrified of them, and yes I know people I should really fucking go but I think I have enough on my plate right now so lay off). Anyway, remember the weight of that lead vest? My body feels like that.. my head, my heart, even my little soul. I feel trapped and smothered and isolated by my own misery.. and I can't put my finger on what the hell is wrong with me?! I'm on day three of crying, so that's it right.. this shit travels in three's? That must be it.. I'll wake up tomorrow and not want to throw myself into traffic.. at the intersection I live at I'd just have to lay in the crosswalk.. people NEVER stop.. it's a sure thing.. the one sure thing in my life right now.. no no all joking aside I'm not going to throw myself into traffic.. I could not even stand to plan one more thing. I was recently informed I don't have to be a super housewife.. and I know that statement is true, it makes sense.. we're dealing with a lot over here at Chez Mazzone, I wouldn't expect any friend of mine to strive for perfection the way I do, knowing she was feeling the way I feel... why do I expect myself to be perfect?? And trust me friends... Mrs. Cleaver does NOT live in my messy house.. a teeny meany baby who's into everything does.. and a depressed Momma who waits 4 days to fold laundry does.. and a Daddy who works 6 days a week and is completely miserable does... oh.. and the Cat.. he's happy enough if we just leave him some food. I can't remember who I was talking to... Maybe my Mom.. when I simply said, if I can't do it well.. I just don't want to do it. Failing at anything is my biggest fear.. check my surveys people.. it's there under Biggest Fear: Failure and the dentist... sometimes I switch the dentish to spiders I hate those little fuckers too. Anyway.. I'm rambling.. so tired and eyes so dry from tears (hmmm you scholars is that almost an oxymoron?) I just feel like I'm failing.. not pulling a C or even a D, just plain failing. And you can all say, no no Amy you're a good mom you're doing a good job.. and yes, you're right on some level I know that. I can recognize that Abby is seriously the smartest, most adorable babies I've ever met *her baby buddies are also the cutest.. dont worry milfies you know I love those little guys/girls!" but you know.. she's fallen off her growth curve, off the charts actually and she's a teeny little weiner who has been pooing white for three days.. and no that's not entirely my fault.. but I had to give my fucking head a shake, and literally wipe her puke from my hair, and take the focus off my piitiful mood and onto her to get her to the dr... she's fine by the way, apparently I need to add BUTTER to everything she eats.. gross... and she'll see a pediatrician for her poop issues.. but you know.. I just felt so inept to care for her.. focusing on myself and my irrational tears. Then there's my husband.. who I finally after MUCH MUCH MUCH prying, pleading I finally got him to talk to me.. and I hated what I heard. Hated it.. could barely handle it... I have enough guilt without being reminded of why I feel guilty (am I Catholic? No.. just a woman.) He told me he feels like I don't appreciate him, like I don't realize all he's given up to be here.. like if anything goes wrong he's stuck in a country where he doesn't really have any friends.. I knew all that.. to hear it, was good for him to say it, but it tore the last artery to my heart out. So I cried some more. Talk about mixed messages much! I sobbed actually.. again.. some more. The truth is I realize all of that.. I feel guilty every single second I want to spend time alone.. by myself with my own thoughts or even just my own friends.. I feel terrible leaving him at home.. but the bigger truth is that seems to be all that is helping me right now.. some alone time. I feel responsible for his misery.. for him being here.. but really we make our own choices.. or at least we should. I cannot be the boss of my family. I'm no Anthony Soprano. I can't bear the burden of anyone else's misery.. but I do.. is that my new job as a wife and a mother?! If it is.. I think I'm going to fail at it. Miserably. I can barely bare the burden of my own self pity.. I can't even pee by myself people.. I don't want the responsibility of logistically planning the Mazoone family's every move. I feel like that should be a group effort. Right now I feel more like just a mother to two than a wife to one.. It's a challenge... and I know there's effort going on.. it's not perfect effort.. and I need to accept that I am only allowed to expect that from myself... This little note is all over the map... I'm typing with my fuzzy pink housecoat and furry warm bunny slippers, squinty eyes, dry behind dirty glasses.. mmmm.. sexy. OKay, I don't have bunny slippers but Im totally in the market for a pair, complete my crazy house wife look... hey some people dig that look... right??? The short story after all these rambles is.. I used to own my feelings, my choices and my thoughts.. and now I don't know who or what does. I don't know what drives them.. I don't know where the sadness comes from, when as Jay pointed out to me, things could be much worse.. why can't I be that person who used to be able to find the sliver lining.. instead now, even on the sunniest day, I feel like i'm dragging around a dark ass rain cloud... I think things and wonder... is that ME, AMY thinking that.. or is it stress/exhaustion/depression etc... everything at this moment is so uncertain.. it's becomming scarily unbearable... and so is the squinting I'm doing... and also the fact that I've already seen the episode of Frasier that's currently on.. what is wrong with me.. I'm watching Frasier! And I've already seen this one.. where is that crosswalk??