Shower Time

Get this card HERE

It seems Spring sprung and all group of gals is pregnant with babies.

I was invited to a baby shower, for a pregnant family member. 

My first personal thoughts while smiling about the news was:

" oh gosh I hope they don't invite me to the shower" 

I was indeed invited as was my mother and SIL

I spoke to my crying mother on the phone about the invitation 

and asked her what she was crying about?!

( It has been almost a decade since we realized that we were not getting a baby this time around)

She said, "I don't think I can go, 

I mean it was suppose to be you! I am so sad that you never got to do any of this...."

I was really surprised, I mean this came out of left field for me!

I told her that maybe we could go together and leave before they opened gifts...

She told me she was concerned about the silly games...

I told her we would go to celebrate a the family that was becoming a new Aunt and Grandma

...wasn't that exciting?

She said she would think about it.

I then texted my cousin who was one of the hosts and said:

" I am trying to get an answer outta my mom, baby showers are hard for us- so I am trying to get my mom to come for a little bit but most likely we'd leave before gifts, sorry for the delay in responding"

Typing her made my heart beat hard; surprisingly, I felt slightly ashamed and embarrassed at being to emotional.

She wrote back super fast:

"totally understandable and seriously no worries at all if you decide to pass. Most important was just that you know we love you and you are invited, and NO REASON at all to apologize, even in the least bit.

Our mom to be is not a big fan pf attention, so the whole thing is a little strange for her. No pressure, she will not feel any less supported or loved if you choose to skip it"

I called to tell my mom that we had time to make up our minds about where to set limits....

she told me she already said she'd go.

I am still glad I totally put myself out there and owned my reality

Sigh....

That night while feeling confused and spun, The Barren told me he was going to play a benefit concert and was only allowed 1 person to go and see him.

It was on the same day.

I RSVP'd that night that I was not going.

Now I am left with finishing the baby gifts to deliver ahead of the shower

....all handmade

because I am that person.

Side Swiped

So it appears to be baby shower season...at least that is what it feels like.

When I got word of the first one, 

I put on my big girl pants, superhero cape and lasso of power 

and quickly said: 

" I can't go"

It felt powerful and right!

I was quite proud of myself.

What was ever cooler was that my SIL 

(who was throwing the party for her sister)

looked at me and said, OK 

and left it at that.

I was super happy that there was no drama

I made time one day and made the baby shower gifts, 

and packed them up way ahead of the event and laid that to rest.

The second shower invite is coming soon, 

I am not going to that one either.

The baby gifts are made and packed away too.

I have told The Barren so that he is well aware that I will be somewhere else,

doing something else.

Hopefully the mother to be will be distracted by her dozens of guests and not 

fixate on me not attending

(like I am that important)

The two mothers to be are very different, 

one got pregnant quickly and with no assistance

the other one, My SIL's sister, spent years trying and 

eventually got pregnant and was on bed rest the whole pregnancy.

When my SIL told me she was pregnant I was so happy fro her, when she said her sister was suffering from morning sickness I said that is great...I was happy for her, she was finally pregnant!

Her shower was to be tomorrow, she was driving my SIL crazy with her vision

of how everything should be. 

(on a side-note, I spoke with my mother and said that I TOTALLY understood this side of the coin. She has sacrificed her body, her finances, her relationship... everything to become a mother

...and now that she is one, she wants everything to be as she imagined it to be. It is her vision of the dream...she is wanting to be the pretty princess from the fairy tale, the happily ever after)

BUT... her water broke today and she is currently in labor.

Shower canceled.

I am finding that thinking about her becoming a mother has side swiped me with a lot of emotions

I thought I was past...or OK with but,

I was crying earlier...hearing in my head

That was suppose to be you

You will never be that woman in labor

you failed

I know that these are The Barreness creeping in with her spells and intoxicating words

I know that some of those things might be true,

but

I did not fail

The idea of this woman becoming a mother is bittersweet.

In my sorrow I texted her other sister, 

who is also infertile from secondary infertility

Just telling her that I was thinking of her, 

as I am sure today is a mixed bag of emotions for her as well

She thanked me for understanding the pain and emotion of the day.

Meanwhile,

The other mother to be is a rockstar, still doing crossfit at 7+month pregnant

feeling great and happy and dealing with everything like well, it is no big deal

She makes it look so easy

aside from her mentioning in conversations that well " because I am pregnant..."

I can even hang out with her and not want to punch myself in the face.

but today...today it might be harder

I know it will pass

and that a good sweat in class will clear this all out of my pores,

but today, today I just want to be 

free enough to feel my independence from these feelings again

Reflections on a birthday

I got super emotional in the two days before my birthday. 

Someone texted me asking if I was really excited about my upcoming birthday and I responded with: "I'm in flux, in the middle of some kind of personal change, so I'm emotional and panicky"

Do you ever get that way?

My mom came over the next day, we spent time together just going to thrift shops and chatting.

 It was what I was looking for. 

A day of no real commitments and let my brain run loose.

I was having a REALLY hard time deciding what I wanted to do on the actual day. It seemed to really peeve The Barren and my parents, who clearly wanted some guidance on the matter.

I just was too spun mentally...but wanted to make a decision about it.

I even got a rejection letter that day and it left me un-phased

My black and white cat served as a therapy cat for her, she recently lost her beloved male cat and finds spending time with mine comforting. 

My kitty is glad to oblige, especially when brushing is involved:

She was still hanging out when I decided I would make my own birthday cake.

On my actual birthday, I made myself a crazy vegan cake, 

and invited nearby friends to come and share in the sugar!

recipe here

IT WAS AMAZING
Vanilla cake (I added orange zest) and vanilla frosting

My bestie sent me a little love package and it made me laugh!

Copper colored wooden clogs!

with a divot for my big toe

Fancy Smancy

I put on a fancy new dress I got just for my birthday, 

and greeted peeps as they arrived.

Everyone got cake and ice cream 

My parents parked themselves on the couch and didn't move for 5 hours!

It was strange at times, and quiet and I reminded me of a proper Victorian sitting room where everyone sits in their own chairs and has conversations in a circle...each waiting for their turn.

hahah

very proper...

When the friends fanned out, my brother arrived with his wife and kids and we all left for a restaurant that could seat 9 easily...it was outdoors and I got to watch the sunset display beautiful colors between the clouds and sky.

My nephew then provided dinner entertainment as he is just barely aware of the power of appendages and spilled the first two glasses of lemonade that were brought to the table.

Later in the evening while explaining something else, he knocked over 6 glasses at one time soaking his baby sister at the end of the table in ice cubes and ice tea.

This second act, had me laughing so hard...the best part was that he said:

"wow that was almost like dominoes"

I agreed and continued to laugh

I think I was the only one that saw the humor in his loosey goosey arms...

He took out well made plans, 

He upset the order of things

and left me laughing

I loved it!

Life is like that.

Women of a certain age

My birthday is around the corner and while speaking to my mother, 

I expressed that I had no problem with my age. 

I explained that in my mind, this milestone number 

will release me from all sorts of things...

but mostly THE PEP TALK statement 

" there is still time to try and have kids, don't give up!"

I am done with people telling me to not give up, keep trying

and that there is still time.

I am actually feeling kind of soapboxy about it lately.

 I've spent years waiting, trying and watching life go by 

as I pinned my hopes on something that wasn't going to happen.

Actually now is the time to LIVE

I don't want to give up on me, on us, on what we still have left!

My mother seemed a little emotional about my revolutionary call to arms. 

I see her watch me ever so closely when I have a little rant or rave. 

I have done this since I was a child...but not until recently was I ever really heard 

( that took loads of therapy to figure out)

So when I see her watch me, I see her witnessing her reality of time 

and how long ago she was 

a young (she was 22 when I came into being) mom 

and all the hopes and dreams she had for me.

She declared " this is quite a milestone for you then isn't it"

I changed the subject, as I didn't want her to become a puddle of tears.

We then talked about our daily practice of our power poses, was she doing her "wonder woman"?

We had seen a TED talk together all about changing your mindset by simply holding these power poses for 2-5 minutes a day or before a big stressful event.

I have been trying to "re-educate" my mother on her feminist theory as it seems to be slipping away as she ages. Reminding her that she still possesses power and a valid voice.

I told her I had come across

a photo of myself that my grandmother had, that had me in this same pose.

I have been holding this pose for decades, 

I was meant to be strong

resourceful

powerful and brave!

I am going to be a 45 year old woman!

who still wants to be Wonder Woman

Mementos of a weekend

Our first Sedar

I made it through! 

We made all the food in time, and was able to stuff the bellies of my parents with yummy food that was different and delicious.

The Barren made it home in time to cook the meat and fire up the BBQ for the fish and bones.

We worked together and made it happen.

My mother was beyond touched that I wanted her to do NOTHING but sit and enjoy a hot meal, 

my father got super emotional stating that he was deeply touched that The Barren embraced the rituals from day one with not an ounce of hesitation or question.

It was an emotional dinner

My table was set with dishes that we only use every once in a blue moon, because I love them so much, and we are like bears in the kitchen and break so many things. The candlesticks belonged to my great grandmother. They remind me of the Minoan snake goddess, and that makes me love them even more.  The tablecloth and napkins belonged to my grandmother, complete with stains from meals past. The matzo cover belonged to The Barrens grandmother, I am pretty sure it was not designed to be a matzo cover, but it is now and I am sure she is happy about it. The crocheted doilies were made by an adopted grandmother in Slovakia, as a wedding gift to us. 

It felt like I was calling all these loved ladies to the table to eat with us.

Have a hot Passover meal, put your feet up and let me spoil you.

This time of year

I decided when my mother asked if we could come over for a last minute holiday dinner that we would host the second night of the holiday at our home. Just the parents and The Barren and myself.

It will be the first time I have done this and frankly, it is exciting and scary and a little sad.

I have spent the last two days planning the meal and making accommodations for food preferences and restrictions and flavors.

I spent a good portion of last night and today going from shop to shop looking for very specific foods and goods, and have found that we do not live in a neighborhood that caters to a wide variety of ethnic goods.

I have brought it all home and put it in the fridge, and checked off all the items of the lists I made.

I am now making a timeline so that I know what to make when and time it all so that I can sit and enjoy the meal with the parents, instead of what my mother usually does which is sit for 30 seconds and then jump up to start the next item....never really engaging in conversation or being present.

All these years I was asked to do the same, so by the time the last member at the table got their dish of food, I was up with my mother/grandmother and readying the next course.

Sitting only for a moment to eat cooled soup.

I am gonna do it different.

I am the next generation, the one that has witnessed this ritual for 40+ years and wondered why gather all these people if you can't sit and talk with them.

I am not adhering to the strictest of the laws, or making sure EVERYTHING is specially made for the holiday. Instead I am making everything from scratch, with love and care and thought.

I think that is the most important part.

While I prepare for this meal and evening, I think about my grandparents and the grandparents before them, I think about the children that are not here to talk to about the holiday and 

why my we makes a big deal out of it. 

I think about how big the table of people use to be and how small it is now.

It is a strange sensation.

I am taking great pride in hosting this and carrying on a generations old tradition, yet, I am also

holding in secret, the sorrow in my heart for those that are not here.

Yesterday and the years before

***warning I talk about death and children***

Yesterday was hard....it wasn't suppose to be and I hadn't planned for it to be.

I got up at 4:15am to get ready for my yoga class...and as I normally do I check the news for accidents, check to see who the teacher for class is

 and social media while I wake up calmly and pull my hair up.

that is when I saw it....I read the words and then only heard a ringing in my ears:

"Goodbye My Love, I will miss you terribly. 

You found the second love letter card from me this morning but never got to open it.

My Wife of 14.5 years (+5.5 years dating) has passed away from heart failure today at noon. She has had health challenges for quite sometime, so this maybe some welcome relief for her.

She was a wonderful woman with a beautiful soul. She made friends easy and captured me on our first meeting with her boy on her knee.

I'm still in shock while I write you all this notice and I'll be back to tell you more later."

The person this husband is referring to was a dear friend from high school.

I met her in high school, she was in our art gaggle, and a talented painter.  She was the token headbanger and wore leather mini dresses and was quick to laugh. She had gotten a full scholarship to the local UC college but was unable to accept it, as around the same time, she became pregnant from a guy who wanted nothing to do with the baby.  She graduated and decorated her mortar board with the words "it's a boy". My bestest and I attended the birth of her son just a few weeks after we graduated. We were there to take photographs at her request. She had to give birth on her hands and knees as she was in a car accident* before getting pregnant and had hurt her back. 

We heard her labor and all she said was "ow that hurts"

She became a single mom, and was asked to move out of the family home as her father could not bare the fact that his daughter was unwed and a mother by the age of 18. 

She went back to school and became a nurse. It was then that she developed a severe latex allergy...so severe that she would pass out, from being unable to breathe, she finally got a service dog and it was these dogs that saved her from death many many times over. 

She still thrived, and found true love in a man that took every moment of the day to make her life wonderful, comfortable and fun.

Her son grew up, joined the marines and is now a sheriff locally.

She fought for animals, had a small menagerie of her own and crafted . 

She joined medical trials to find a cure for this horrible disease that was in every corner of her life outside of the joy.

She had developed seizures that would wipe away short term memories, and recently she passed out at their woodside cabin and had to be airlifted to the ICU, where they found she had low potassium levels. 

They were changing her medications and I guess the strain to her heart was just too much this last time and she left . Freeing herself from her body.

I was unable to think after reading her husband's words, I climbed back into bed and The Barren asked if I had had a nightmare and I whispered "Kara died" and let the tears fall down my face as he wrapped his arm around me. I fell back to slept with a heaviness in my chest that made it a labor to breathe.

When I work up I thought I had dreamt the whole thing...but it was not the case.

I spent the day quiet and watched downton abbey and ate and napped....I texted my bestest and we both agreed that we were really messed up from the news and would call each other later in the day to cry it out together. I was sitting curled in a blanket when the Barren came home and handed me a bag of kettle popcorn, he sat beside me and said nothing but simply shared the bag and we watched something on the screen. He made dinner for us: vegan pancakes and kissed me 

When my bestest called it was the best thing in the world to hear her voice. 

She remembered the car accident*: Kara and her best friend were in her beloved mustang stopped at a signal headbanging to some song on the tapedeck and got rear ended and they both got whiplash. They proudly came to school the next day with neck braces and laughing about it. 

I remembered us making the 1st birthday cake for her son and choosing bright green filling as it would make the biggest mess when he ate it !

The talk and the memories helped us both. 

My bestest said that although she had her son so young and it made her life rough, it was most likely one of the biggest wonderful in her life. As she was able to watch him grow into the man he is today. Giving her a huge sense of pride. If she had waited she might not have been given that opportunity.

I agreed and it made sense to me.

Hug your friends dear ones, hug the ones you want to but hesitate to.

Hug the ones you always hug.

Mothering

I called my mom and asked her what she wanted to do for Sunday.

 I offered up a meal or some time shopping or whatever she wanted. 

I told her it was her day and she called the shots.

After a lot of hemming and um mm-ing...she said, "lets have oatmeal on Monday before work".

I was kind of disappointed, but curious why she chose that.

She is going to the movies with my father and will most likely see something HE wants to see and sit quietly through the whole event. Maybe get a big popcorn or red vines.

My mother has in the past, chosen to let me retreat on this day. She has respected my grief and discomfort and allowed me to pamper her for the day or asked that I pamper myself...or understood why I hid.

This year I seem still, quite OK.

(Aside from the market yesterday, where THANK GOODNESS the checker greeted the woman behind me with Happy Mothers Day, he was just a "hey how ya doing" for us...whew....I told the Barren that I felt quite relieved by not having that as our greeting.)

Feeling like this year was way too quiet, 

I kept prodding her and she said....well, that is what I really want.

I said OK, oatmeal it is then.

So today, I will be driving artwork to a drop-off site, picking up some caffeine along the way (as a treat to myself) and watching the Barren blow his nose....he caught a cold.

I sent out a few cards...and will send a few text messages...but it seems like any other Sunday to me.

but I haven't left the house yet....

What now...

Firstly, thank you Stirrup Queens for mentioning my most recent post

(hearts and hugs and love to you)

thank you also to those who have arrived here because of her words

you too are AWESOME!

xoxoxxo

******

 

I was pretty spent once Monday rolled around.

What I neglected to mention was that the weekend prior to Mother's Day I went and got a box of 10 blank cards (in case I decided at the last minute to change my mind and not do this project, I could still use the cards for "real life"), in addition I also got a couple specially selected Mother's day cards for women in my life, my mother and a woman who was about to celebrate mother's day for the first time after 10years of struggling with IF.

I sat down the week before and hand wrote messages in each of them.

I took breaks, but sat there and thought about each woman and found myself imagining what her day would possibly be like. Sounds, smells, and sights.
I am sure I infused a bit of my own fantasies, but hell it was my project I can do what I want.

Yep, even mailed one to that SIL

 

I mailed them off on the Thursday before M.D.

and patted myself on the back,

thinking I might have taken the first step onto a new path.

One that had me beginning this new hope for a self that is more then infertility.
( I am a cautious hoper, I am sure many of us are now)

 

What ended up happening was that I couldn't stop thinking about those cards...
first I wondered if anyone got them
then I wondered if it meant anything to them
then I wondered why they didn't mention to me that they got a card from me
then I got depressed thinking I had spent energy trying to make myself evolve
and instead all I did was push myself back.

Was it worth it, I mean did I do it for the right reasons?
The jury is still out on that one.

In reflection:
Much like my NIAW writing, I am thinking that Mother's Day needs to be reduced in my mind, to something closer to Labor day; a holiday, but no one really knows what to do with it.
For me Mother's day will never be what I though it would be,
but I don't need to take it away from others.

So I am onto other more pressing items on my to-do list.
Step One: decide which direction to head

 

Waiting for that shoe

" the doctor will see you now Barreness"

 

I have yet to return to work, The Barren wanted me to take the full time and wait until I saw my doctor before heading back into the pit of chaos known as work.

These last few days have been filled with me trying to do more and more so that I could gain momentum, and the shock of a full workday and commute would be lessened.

I sat on my arse all day yesterday posting to my shop and writing a newsletter to my collectors and art colleagues so I am still relevant.

 

I am mostly trying to not think about tomorrows doctors appointment.

I really have no idea what to expect or what to prepare for.

 

The Viscountess came over the day before yesterday and spent the day here, she was a brave cowgirl and sat as passenger as I took to the wheel for the first time in two weeks. I ran some errands and she kept me company. It was nice, it kept me light and I felt like I could spoil her a little by picking up lunch and we sat and chatted as we ate.

I had left the room when her cell phone rang and only returned to hear her say to the person on the other end:

" well, we had a thing with our daughter. Yes, we thought she had ovarian cancer, but thankfully that was not the case. but they were able to tell her why they couldn't conceive.
Yes I am with her now, I will call you later "

 

It was hard to hear those words; it was hard to hear her have to say them.

This morning I got out of bed, tried not to puke and then took a shower.
As I had yet to see the doctor I still had to follow orders of:
 "not letting the spray directly hit your incisions"
Shower time is like twister...lots of bending into shapes that are not normal.
I got dressed and was able to button my jeans and headed to the appointment arriving ten minutes ahead of time. I was placed into a room that took my breath away:

creepy and very prepared for splashes

I was told to undress from the waist down and wait for the doctor on that chair.

It was icky and I was left alone longer then I should have been.

My doctor arrived and I mentioned to her " this is quite a room"

she agreed...and then went to tell me about the results.

I have stage four Endometriosis, she said

"you pretty much have really horrible horrible endometriosis"

She went on to tell me how my tubes are suppose to be in front of my uterus but they are behind it and twisted and fused to other bits of scar tissue. She went over the pictures she took with me.

I thanked her for saving my ovary and she was gracious about that.

I asked if any pathology was done on the cyst and she said yes:

It all came back benign and no signs of cancer.

I was happy....

then she mentioned again my fertility, my mood went into " mask mode"

She told me that although there was soooo much scar tissue, there was really nothing she could do to improve my chances of conceiving. She was sorry about that, she then said " you kind of got a double whammy, with this level of endometriosis and the septum in the uterus..."

I told her I understood and thanked her.

She assured me that I was calling the shots, that unless another cyst formed (which is decreased now that I am on BCP) there is no need for further surgery. She mentioned that if pain returned she had a three stage plan to address it and the last step is chemical menopause, not hysterectomy.

In some ways I was glad to hear that.

I just need to stay on BCP until menopause...which I wonder how you would know that menopause had started if you are ...anyways...another topic for another day far off in the future.

She assured me that endometriosis was not hereditary and that if my niece complains of painful periods, push to get her on the pill to preserve her reproductive tract.

That will be an interesting day...she is only 8 now...but I will fight for her.

 

My button is starting to open, like a sick and twisted bud of a flower....

She looked at my incisions and agreed that I had a pool of surgical glue in my belly button and that I could pick at it if I wanted to...ick! and then said I was ok to go back to being me slowly.

When I asked if I could have sex, she asked me how many days since surgery? 14 today...yeah that should be fine if I felt like it.

I told her I was having the most amazing dreams...she laughed and said gotta love that little extra bit of estrogen....

I had a dream I was winning porn actress of the year and my parents were there, but I didn't want them to see me on stage so I kept coming out and telling them the updates of the awards show.

 it was STRANGE!

 

I left the appointment in a daze, shell shocked and not sure where to place all these feelings.

Grateful beyond words, for being cancer free...but devastated so deeply at the real gritty reality of my fertility. I wandered the mall alone for a couple hours just walking and window gazing. It seemed like an easy way to just walk it out, process bits...and not collapse into a puddle.

 

So much to process

Pelvic Rest

 

I had a horrible start to the day yesterday.

I was expecting a crash post surgery, but thought it would have arrived the second or third day after...not the fourth day.

I had spent the whole night coughing.

A dry irritating cough and no matter what I did I couldn't get it to stop.

I was curled around a second blanket fearful that if I coughed just hard enough,

I would pop one of the incisions.

 

I had gotten out of bed sometime in the middle of the night, thinking I was going to puke.

The pressure and pain against my diaphragm was intense.

It never happened, maybe my visual imaginings of my insides squeezing out of my incisions like a sick version of cheese wiz stopped it...or I was just able to battle it away.

 

When The Barren caught sight of me in the morning he was ready to take me to the ER...I spent the next hour and a half convincing him it was a sore and pissed off diaphragm and not pain from the surgery. I also reminded him that I had started BCP again and having to take a two days dose in one day could also make me feel puky. It was a horrible combination.

I think he is still unconvinced that I haven't needed pain pills since surgery.

I haven't. I am not sure why.

The second day post surgery I had the neck and shoulder thing, it felt like someone had punched my neck and shoulders, that pre-bruising feeling....but nothing that would require a pain pill.

 

I am totally the first to sign up to sign out...but I think the glee, thankfulness and euphoria of knowing I either caught it before it became cancer and that there were no signs of cancer in me has me riding a pretty high happy train.

 

I had gone into surgery with my period; pain in my lower back and some cramping.

When I woke up, there was no pain.

Nausea: lots and lots of that...but no pain.

day two post surgery
swollen tummy, bruised button

 

I had some vanity moments yesterday too, I am not going to lie. I feel puffy and swollen and my bellybutton is filled with surgical glue, so I can't really tell how much it has changed.

I liked my button, it was the only unique thing that tied me to my birth, like a fingerprint of the day.

I think it has changed now. *sigh*

 

I spent yesterday with The Viscountess, she scrubbed my stove (she does that with her neverous energy, it is how she expresses love)  and spent time just sitting with me and keeping quiet company. She had me eat some salad and that started the deep real burps (even though I have been eating gasx and walking like a loopy girl) it started to relieve the pressure and then I started drinking pear juice last night (a tip from a friend; to get things moving out) I awoke this am feeling closer to fine.

 

I am still processing the reality that is inside me, I will share that later...but I am today, closer to fine.

Here Ye, Here Ye

via: art.co.uk

So I finally told my parents about the surgery.
I told them on Halloween

The Barren suggested I just start the conversation with
" I am having surgery"

I was working on not puking on the ride over or while knocking on the front door.

I took his suggestion and I got their attention.
 

I adore my parents, but have spent almost all of my life trying to be heard by them.

I have a long history of speaking up, but being dismissed, or not heard, literally.

So The Barrens suggestion was a good one, as they fell silent and allowed me
to explain what was going on.

 

The Viscount (my father) fell pale, and got very quiet. I became emotional.

The Viscountess (my mother) sat with her hands between her knees, lips tight and engaged.
I calmly explained what was going to happen and when and they listened.
Then asked a few questions and then said they heard me and respected my boundaries.
I told them I was not going to make an announcement to the family, that I welcomed them to share the information as it might allow them feel better or allow them to process the information better.

The Viscount then proceeded to not say a word for the next 24 hours, not to his wife, myself or anyone else.
The Viscountess took my advice and spoke to a friend about how she was feeling, and said it allowed her to feel weigh lifted from her shoulders.
She then directed her attention to her husband and he finally said:
" I am just focusing on being positive. I want this to all be OK"
The Viscount has called me everyday since Halloween to tell me that he loves me and is thinking about me. He normally does this every few days, but now it is daily.
Last nights call was a dozy sweet dreams phone call.

The Viscountess has now divulged to me that she feels useless and unneeded in this whole thing. I am currently trying to find something "special for just her" to do post surgery that will let her know how needed and important her presence is.

I am very thankful that I have parents that want to be very much supportive of this step in my life, and friends that are wanting to help anyway they can...even encouraging me to cry.

I had my EKG this morning, as one of the two pre-op tests that need to be done before my pre-op meeting. I was fine until the nurse was hooking up the electrodes to my ankle when she asked so what are you going in for...and I had to say the words out loud to a stranger.
" I am most likely having my left ovary removed because an enodmetrioma is being a little bitch"
she giggled
I said "I am sorry but I'm really scared and I didn't want to have to do this."
She told me she understood how scary it is to make these choices. She then shared her personal struggle to keep all of her reproductive system in the face of a dozen+ fibroids and post ablation.
She said it is an important fight, but we have to remember that we want to be around to fight it.
I agreed and we did my EKG.
 

Deeply Felt

When I saw this photo in the news this morning, my heart sank.

 

 

"Zoo officials said in a press release that the cub was found dead Sunday morning after panda keepers heard sounds of distress from its mother, Mei Xiang."
*Mei Xiang, the cub's mother, appears to still have a maternal instinct. "Sadly, we have witnessed her cradling an object for most of the night," Zoo Director Dennis Kelly said. "

 

I felt it so deeply, this loss for me is universally felt.

I don't see a defining line between animal and people, we are all sensitive beings.

My thoughts and prayers go out to this grieving mother.

Penis Problem

OK so as I was driving home from my annual mammogram today, and I thought, boy I need some serious levity.

(everyone get a mammogram)

I am super bumming out everyone, including myself.

I had a good cry this morning, and fell asleep WAY too early last night..poor Barren.

He is a little worried about me.

So I thought, what made me laugh recently, and I remembered the call from Mom asking me to

"come fix her penises"

Yep.

My parents home borders a public walking path. It has chain link fencing and is maintained mostly by the homeowners that butt up to this path. The city forgot about many many years ago.

So my mother felt that it should be a public art gallery.

They also live across the street from an elementary school and so kids walk to and from school

via this path everyday.

My mom writes notes in chalk on the ground wishing them a happy first day of school

and summer vacation and stuff like that.

Adorable, I know.

She has also COVERED her side of the chain fencing with painted boards that she has asked others to decorate. My grandmother, myself, my father, my niece and nephew...you get the idea.

Well recently, she thought it a great idea to leave extra white painted boards beside the fence to offer up the opportunity for other kids in the neighborhood to paint and she would hang them for all to see.

She goes out and checks the fence every few days, and finds a new piece from someone hung via zip ties and is simply over the moon about it.

Well.....

a few little monsters have found this same oasis of adorable and started drawing penises on some of the artwork:

He doesn't look to bothered

this fish may never blow number bubbles again

poor purple dino/giraffe

So every once in a while I get a call from mom that asks me to come over with a box of paint and

"fix her penis problem"

Penises are funny, and little boy/girl versions of what penises can do

is always good for a laugh with me!

Mental health time

So my mind is pretty cooked, I am sure that comes as no surprise to most of you.

(the fact that I can say that is still amazing to me,

I have people that actually read this blog

and write lovely little notes to me )

Anyhoo, it might be another week before I can really put words together in a way that makes sense*.

I am currently re-charging my laughter cells, and heart with a book a dear wonderful friend sent me:

book info

I literally can only read for moments before I am laughing so hard tears are rolling down my cheeks

I am so thankful for that

This weekend, I spent my first two days away from mom

(well, except for calling at medicine taking times to make sure dad was on top of things)

I read, napped

and hung out with hubby.

I totally had nothing in me when Sunday came around....I came to peace with this

as I was soaking in the tub Saturday night.

I looked up at hubby; who was keeping me company

 so I don't fall asleep and drown

and I said

" I don't think I have anything left to give to mom right now...I gonna have to call her instead"

He said: "well you did just mostly kind of spend the last month keeping her alive, I think she'll understand"

She seemed to; she called me last night to tell me that she went to the Farmers Market and met with some friends and then came home and fell asleep for four hours.

Today she meets with the doctor who last did his exam on her while she was out cold...she snored thru the whole exam. I think he'll be happy with her progress.

A toast to antibiotics!

*see I am a little loopy still, I'll me more normalish soon

***p.s. I just got a call from my mother, telling me she has decided to stop taking some of her medications.

She is fine.

It might be a little longer then a week....

So many days have past....

blood transfusion

I am sad to report that I have been spending this last month in the hospital.

I am not the patient but instead my mother still is.

The infection spread to her knee, or started there, or her mouth post dental work or in her bladder or in her kidney or....the theories are stacked but none hold a clear answer.

Not all of us are cut out to be caregivers, it requires a kind of patience that after serval days wears thin...and then thinner and thinner and thinner. My parents dealt with it over and over again, with grandparents living with us because no one else stepped up.

I was the person who stepped up first and stayed the latest.
I am not tooting my horn, in fact I have a really hard time accepting compliments or accolades for anything I do. Which makes acknowledgements of what I have done this past month make me want to run for the hills.

pages of observation

So, I have essentially been living by my mothers side this last month; so my father could get some sleep and do some work that was piling up and visit his clients.
I worked when I could at my other job, for an hour here and there; waking at 4:30am to call the nurses station and then send 10 people text message early am updates, then get myself dressed and drive the 45minutes into town to sit at the hospital all day.

Write down every pill she took, every temperture recorded, every minute of how long she slept and what she was hallucinating about. Ask the correct questions of doctors and chase down nurses or get cups of ice. Send my father home to make sure he ate and took his evening pills and got some time with his eyes closed. Send text messages all day long to additional people as they requested new information and came up with questions of their own. Then around 7pm, put myself into a car, drive the 45minutes home, arrive home and remember that I had not eaten all day, find something in the fridge or on the counter to push into my mouth before taking a shower, kissing my already sleeping hubby and crying myself to sleep to start it all again.

I haven't seen hubby but for the evenings, as I crawl into bed. I haven't had any studio time in the last month. I have missed submission deadlines, avoided answering emails, gave up my garden plot, and put everything else on the back burner.

Although I speak to my brother throughout the day, my brother took the time to send me a text thanking my for everything I have done, as he is not able to be as patient as is needed or as compassionate as the situation requires. It made me cry.

My hubby told me on the phone that a co-worker asked how he was, he said:

" my wife leaves really early in the morning, and I don't see her all day.

Then she comes home really late at night,;she sits for half an hour and cries and then

falls asleep. Night after night"

I got a call from my father last night while driving home telling me that my mother chose me to be her physical therapst for her home care. I started to cry, weep...I am spent.

After a sleepless night, I found the inner advocate this morning and told my father during our early am call that I can not be everything, mother needs an outside PT person. I can help do the homework but someone else needs to be added to the mix.

It was amazing to hear those words come from my mouth, I felt horrible telling my father that I couldn't do something for my mother or him. I struggle with that but know that I need some mental health time too.

As I was sitting next to my narcotic doozing mother today, wondering if I would ever see the fighter that she once was again, she sat strait up and said " I want to walk outside"

We got up and out the door....it was her longest walk in the last month.

She went out the door, to the neighbors, turned and up a walking path...and back inside.

It was like winning the lottery, like maybe it will be ok afterall.

Maybe I will get my life back again and have breakfast with my hubby again soon.

Breaking out of her box