Today is my last day as a 26 year old. When I think of the past year, I can't imagine how much my life has changed since my first day being 26. Last year I was out at a bar, feeling drunk and getting drunker. Tonight I am sitting on my couch, feeling taps and wondering if I should eat cookies or not.
26 was rough - there were days when I really didn't think my marriage was going to make it, I hated my job and I just wanted things to change. And they did. My miscarriage was the worst thing that ever happened to me and it didn't end with the bleeding. There were months of grieving, questioning and fear and I never knew if I was ever going to find my way out.
Yet I did. Now, I am facing a whole new set of fears and questions. But I know that I have the strength to survive and on days when I begin to question that, these little kicks remind me that I don't really have an option.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
June 3, 2008
I'm sorry that I've been neglecting you, poor blog. I started the year with high hopes of posting daily but then you know, life happens and yeah. I didn't.
Today has been a week since Jon left. One week. We've gone longer than that without seeing each other before for any number of reasons but then we always knew when the next time would be. This time (and like the times he's been deployed before) there is no clear cut deadline or date to count down to. Instead there is just guesses and estimates. And lots of time to pass.
He moved all of his stuff down before he left this time. Leaving my apartment disorganized and cluttered which of course sent me into a cleaning binge. After all, my husband may be gone and I don't know when I will see him again and I am going to have our baby while he is away but at the very least my apartment will be clean. I ended up regretting it though - his smell is gone. His pillow smells clean, and there aren't any t-shirts that smell like him. And I miss that.
People have been wonderful, and supportive. So many people ask what they can do to help me and there is. Tonight, give your husband/wife/significant other a hug. And smell them. Because believe me, you'll miss that when you wash it out of your sheets.
Today has been a week since Jon left. One week. We've gone longer than that without seeing each other before for any number of reasons but then we always knew when the next time would be. This time (and like the times he's been deployed before) there is no clear cut deadline or date to count down to. Instead there is just guesses and estimates. And lots of time to pass.
He moved all of his stuff down before he left this time. Leaving my apartment disorganized and cluttered which of course sent me into a cleaning binge. After all, my husband may be gone and I don't know when I will see him again and I am going to have our baby while he is away but at the very least my apartment will be clean. I ended up regretting it though - his smell is gone. His pillow smells clean, and there aren't any t-shirts that smell like him. And I miss that.
People have been wonderful, and supportive. So many people ask what they can do to help me and there is. Tonight, give your husband/wife/significant other a hug. And smell them. Because believe me, you'll miss that when you wash it out of your sheets.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
May 11, 2008
It's Mother's Day, and today I am finally at a point where I can tentatively say that I am on the verge of becoming a mother again. I keep beating around the bush with everyone, because it is hard for me to say...but here it goes...I am pregnant. Thirteen weekends along in fact and due on November 16, 2008.
I've known for awhile but the thought of putting it out there, and then having to take it back again nearly killed me. So I've been hiding but it's hard to hide when so many people know; it's not just hiding the pregnancy, it's hiding from building up hope and allowing yourself to be happy about this. Pregnancy after a loss is debilitating at times as you get stuck in your own fear. Analyzing what is going on in your body - one can only function so well while running to check for spotting, squeezing one's boobs, googling symptoms and debating if you are feeling nauseous or not.
But here I am, at the magical 13 week mark - still terrified but glimmers of hope peak in more and more now. I am pregnant, and I have finally started to believe that this baby is going to be born this fall. And then I will cross that line and become a Mom.
I've known for awhile but the thought of putting it out there, and then having to take it back again nearly killed me. So I've been hiding but it's hard to hide when so many people know; it's not just hiding the pregnancy, it's hiding from building up hope and allowing yourself to be happy about this. Pregnancy after a loss is debilitating at times as you get stuck in your own fear. Analyzing what is going on in your body - one can only function so well while running to check for spotting, squeezing one's boobs, googling symptoms and debating if you are feeling nauseous or not.
But here I am, at the magical 13 week mark - still terrified but glimmers of hope peak in more and more now. I am pregnant, and I have finally started to believe that this baby is going to be born this fall. And then I will cross that line and become a Mom.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
April 29, 2008
I've been away for a long time. There are so many things that are going on in my life right now, so much that I fear and so much that I am hoping for all at the same time. Often they are the same things. I have things I want to say, but not the courage. Yet.
Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is a freedom ~ Marilyn Ferguson
Thursday, March 20, 2008
March 17, 2008
I've been waiting for this date with a sense of dread and anticipation. St Patrick's Day was my EDD for the pregnancy I lost. As any woman who has experienced a pregnancy loss knows, this is a tough day and I had been dreading it. But I was also looking forward to it because I just wanted to get through it and know that I had reached the point in my grieving process where I could get through this date.
My family has always approached death in a sort of unique way in that death should be as much of a celebration of the person's life as it is about grieving for their loss. So I started my day sitting in my tub with the shower running and having a good cry about what could have been. Then I took a deep breath and went out to celebrate St Patrick's Day.
Now celebrating St Patrick's Day may not seem like a big deal to some, but to someone who has grown up as an Irish Dancer celebrating St Patrick's Day quickly loses its luster. Several weekends in a row of back to back performances, multiple parades and spending hours a day in the car is not fun for anyone so by the time I was in high school being pulled out of school for the day was no longer cool. Even as an adult, taking the time off of work was a necessary evil but I often found myself standing in front of a crowd wishing I was checking email or filing, anything but "celebrating".
But this year was different - this year should have been my baby's birthday and I would have been celebrating that new life. Since I couldn't do that I chose to celebrate St Patrick's Day for all it was worth. And my baby gave me an amazing gift because I started to notice all the wonderful things about this crazy holiday that I had long forgotten - the excitement of a 5 or 6 year old when a crowd cheers after their first performance, the joy (and often tears) of the parents and grandparents watching their little ones dance, the wonder on the face of the little ones when they hear huge crowds cheering for them at a parade as they shyly wave to TV cameras. I hugged girls I have known for years as they made their final rounds through the St Patrick's Day circuit before leaving for college. And I enjoyed the time spent with good friends as we huddled in back corner booths of local pubs, exhausted and heads spinning wondering how on Earth we made it through another year. That night, I went home and cuddled with my husband knowing that in finding the simple joys of a day I had long dreaded I had honored the memory of my child.
Thank you, little. For someone so small and who was with me for such a short period of time you managed to teach me so much. Mommy loves you, now and always.
My family has always approached death in a sort of unique way in that death should be as much of a celebration of the person's life as it is about grieving for their loss. So I started my day sitting in my tub with the shower running and having a good cry about what could have been. Then I took a deep breath and went out to celebrate St Patrick's Day.
Now celebrating St Patrick's Day may not seem like a big deal to some, but to someone who has grown up as an Irish Dancer celebrating St Patrick's Day quickly loses its luster. Several weekends in a row of back to back performances, multiple parades and spending hours a day in the car is not fun for anyone so by the time I was in high school being pulled out of school for the day was no longer cool. Even as an adult, taking the time off of work was a necessary evil but I often found myself standing in front of a crowd wishing I was checking email or filing, anything but "celebrating".
But this year was different - this year should have been my baby's birthday and I would have been celebrating that new life. Since I couldn't do that I chose to celebrate St Patrick's Day for all it was worth. And my baby gave me an amazing gift because I started to notice all the wonderful things about this crazy holiday that I had long forgotten - the excitement of a 5 or 6 year old when a crowd cheers after their first performance, the joy (and often tears) of the parents and grandparents watching their little ones dance, the wonder on the face of the little ones when they hear huge crowds cheering for them at a parade as they shyly wave to TV cameras. I hugged girls I have known for years as they made their final rounds through the St Patrick's Day circuit before leaving for college. And I enjoyed the time spent with good friends as we huddled in back corner booths of local pubs, exhausted and heads spinning wondering how on Earth we made it through another year. That night, I went home and cuddled with my husband knowing that in finding the simple joys of a day I had long dreaded I had honored the memory of my child.
Thank you, little. For someone so small and who was with me for such a short period of time you managed to teach me so much. Mommy loves you, now and always.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
February 27, 2008
It's been awhile. I just needed a break - bad news when you need a break from the place you use as your safe place to talk about your innermost thoughts and feelings. My near miss post really made me feel vulnerable, and I needed to retreat.
But now I am back, and I am struggling. I feel like my "safe places" are becoming less safe. That I can't just be me without worrying that I hurt or offend others, and this is a place where I would never want to hurt anyone any more than they are already hurting. And so I max myself out supporting others but it feels like when I look to get that support in return people get hurt.
So yeah, I'm feeling pretty down tonight.
But now I am back, and I am struggling. I feel like my "safe places" are becoming less safe. That I can't just be me without worrying that I hurt or offend others, and this is a place where I would never want to hurt anyone any more than they are already hurting. And so I max myself out supporting others but it feels like when I look to get that support in return people get hurt.
So yeah, I'm feeling pretty down tonight.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
February 11, 2008
Oh dear god. I posted my 2/11 blog on a work related blog. Thank god it seems like no one saw it but oh my god. Oh my god.
Note to self, be very careful where blogs are posted...
Note to self, be very careful where blogs are posted...
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