Pick me up

show card

I picked up my prints from the photo lab yesterday.

I had to flip thru the images, to make sure they looked as I had intended.

The first image on the stack is that of a baby stroller, on seeing this, the photo tech said:

 "oh how cute is that!"

this made me cringe a little inside.

As I continued to flip thru the images her conversation turned to how they are the lab that processes the pictures for the crime scene investigators.

 (I thought that was a more appropriate response to images of loss)

She went into gruesome details of what they have seen and processed recently...it left me feeling weak and sad. As I had gone there excited to finally see the work printed.

I left in search of a pick me up...

I stopped by my garden and watered the sad, confused summer veggies and picked a couple baseball bat sized squash.

Then I went back to work and continued dropping off gallery cards to local venues.

When I made my last stop and placed my cards on the podium with the others,

the gallery sitter looked at me and said "I've seen this"

She was excited and frankly it was a great pat on the back!

all that postage and emailing was not in vain

She started telling me about her losses and what people said to her.

The good the bad and the simply mean.

Then she looked at me and said:

 "This is really important and it is a wonderful thing"

I didn't cry until I got back to the car.

Imagine

I am sitting here, trying to figure out details for my show...and trying to ignore the laughter and squeals from little people outside. Enjoying the last days of summer.

Alas, I could bare it no longer and had to see what was making them so so happy. Maybe in an attempt to feel that way too...

I saw a group of girls, all under 12 wearing bathing suits and taking turns running into a fountain of water that is spraying a slip and slide.

They are all so beautiful and unaware of their bodies, simply laughing and playing.

I stood there for a moment and tried to imagine that I was simply looking in on them, checking to make sure all were playing nicely. Sharing and taking turns...

After simply a moment, I felt the warm tears running down my face.

The idea was so so big, like when you realize how big the universe really is.

It was too much, all I could do was simply cry in awe of it.

Nerves

It feels as though every nerve in my body has been touched to a point of fraying.

Like a crazy old wire from a cloth covered cord in the 40's.

I have been bathing heavily in my history for weeks now and although it has been wonderful for my artmaking, it is starting to enter other aspects of my life again...the lack of sleep, the joy that doesn't linger too long, loss of hunger and loss of clarity.

I was talking with hubby and it seems that we are both nervous about the same thing. Watching the reactions of our family to the show. Watching them cry or tighten up and not speak to us again. Well, we know they will talk to us, but making them have to process their grief and loss in a more steadfast manner. My mother already cried at just the image from the gallery card. Hell, how will she or my father react when they see the far more personal work. I am nervous for them as well.

The one year anniversary of my first of three miscarriages is right around the corner and I am feeling the heaviness in my heart.

As I am trying to plan past my show to the next project/art idea, I am thinking about my Dia De Los Muertos altar. I wasn't able to make one last year, but this year I am.

Shortly after loosing the being...I found myself in a shop purchasing a little mexican folk art piece of a skeleton woman holding a baby. It seemed to comfort me, acknowledging our loss to myself. No one wanted to talk to me about it or their feelings. 

With my most recent recollections, I found myself seeking comfort again. My hubby told me that he feels it was and will be again, in some way, some where.  

I stumbled apon the Mizuko Jizo, a Japanese Bodhisattva.

"Jizo is the protector of children, expectant mothers, firemen, and travelers. Most of all, he is the protector of deceased children, including miscarried, aborted or stillborn infants. In Japanese folklore, Jizo hides the children in his robes to protect them from demons and guide them to salvation."

I am not a religious person(that is a whole other story), and finding this information brought me to tears.

I bought the snake oil and I now have a statue and it will be included in this years altar.

Hell, it made me feel better and that is all I was looking for.

I am coming out of the closet,slowly, but going public with our infertility on my other blog and social media sites. I hope it will mean something to someone other then myself. 

Listen & Feel

I live in a very fertile neighborhood....the place spills children out its pores around 5pm.

They run around in circles in the courtyards. I can hear them playing made up games and squeeling with joy at being chased.

I can hear childhood.

I remember mine and remember that I wanted to share it with my own child.

Chase an ice cream truck, walk barefoot when it rained, eat cereal out of a huge bowl in front of the TV on a Saturday morning.

What I hear now, is all those things not happening.

What I feel now is sad and lonely.

Slowly

I still haven't made up my mind about going back onto the pill...so I guess that really means I am waiting until I can wait no more.

I have been sending out press releases to my show since Sunday evening, and building one of the last pieces for it, slowly but surely.

 It is a nest...and I really like how it looks. the display of it is where I am stuck. My brother has offered to help make a stand for it...but did ask what it meant.

It was strange and almost embarrassing to explain it to him, but realized that I might have to do that over and over again. He has no reference point....I embrace his openness when he talks about his children and his life as a father. I in some ways try to image what it would be like to have a similar story to share with him. So and So did this and can you believe they said that, but I draw a blank and stories of the cats' adventures are a pale comparison to my niece and nephews' antics.

At the same time I have been stewing in the emotions of being childless, barren and suffering from an empty womb. I know now, that it is just my hubby and I forever. We need to make new adventures and have new dreams. I have found myself waking up in the middle of the night, just to hear him breathe, so I can have that forever in my mind and feel it in my heart. I can not image a life without him.

We have gone thru battle, we are still walking in that gear, billyclubs in hand, to beat away anything that might challenge that desire.

In many ways I can see my emptiness as temporary, as I have him to walk with. In other ways I see it as vast as the ocean, as it is just him and me.

Rounding the corner

So I realized today that my show falls just about one year from the first of my three miscarriages.

So if the first had taken I would have been holding my own child at the opening.

Instead, this show has become my child, my mission, my distraction.

I am overwhelmed with fears and anxiety about it finally being seen. Will my voice be strong enough?

I have shown the images to my art advisor/mentor and they were very well received. In fact she thinks that it could be a traveling show. In many ways that is wonderful, in other ways it scares me to death! I doubt my own abilities, I question my drive, and I wonder if I have what it takes to make this happen.

I have worked my gut into a frenzy and am on a doctors ordered bland diet and medicine for the rest of the month. I am so bored with food that now I am not eating much at all.

I am happy with the work and making it distracts me from new decisions that I need to make. When I saw the doctor for my gut, she saw the last ultrasound and said we need a follow up ASAP...as the "complex" cyst is something that can be pre-cancerous or nothing at all...like I need to add that to my plate of options right now! Also if it continues to grow poses a risk of fallopian tube torsion. Something that no one had mentioned to me before. I figured it was pretty well set in there and that a cyst would grow....I never thought of it as a dangerous stacking game.

So I have a prescription for pills...and I haven't taken it to the pharmacy or anything...I am just waiting still, I guess. Waiting for the very last minute...waiting until it is glaringly obvious to me that I need to take them again. I am really wanting to avoid that....really wanting to.

I think I am simply afraid.

Hubby and I spoke and we are both in agreement that we passed teh time to get pregnant. It is a sad reality for us both. The dream is really a ghost, we can see it, interact with it but it is not something we can touch.

It marks yet another milestone we do not get to experience.

In the middle of it ALL

The couple from Montreal

I am in the middle of putting the images for my solo show together. I have been having panic attacks and nightmares about this show....fear nightmares mostly.

I am terrified that no one will show, that I will miss a step....I feel totally propelled to make make make....I am reliving my years of infertility while ignoring my most recent need to make a decision about my body again.

~

Turns out the nurse didn't give me all the information about my results, so I am thankful that I asked for a copy of the results again. Turns out I have cysts on both my ovaries and numerous fibroids, the amount was not even mentioned. I feel full of rocks.

~

So I am diving head first back into the grief of all this and making the art I have dreamed of making about my infertility. It is shaping up well and varies from literal to symbolic. I think that it speaks to the many faces of my situation. I have chosen to avoid the easy images, distraught woman or "boo boo" faces.

I have been revisiting all my fears, my deep deep sadness and awareness of the long term reality. My husband is feeling it too....we have a piece that we are working on together and it is bringing up many hard and painful realities for him too, I am thankful that he is talking to me about it.

I don't want him to feel alone about any of this.

After a day of printing images and being covered with ink, I made dinner and settled into a movie. I chose Away We Go, I knew it was about pregnancy and babies and family...and although it was hard to watch, I felt I could process it. Until they met the couple from Montreal....I knew something was amuck...it wasn't until the club, when I knew what was really up and it hit me like a ton of brinks...

I wept openly and deeply and had another panic attack afterwards.

Watching the grief dance and the husband frozen and sad made it all hit home.

Made me feel the sadness of my losses so heavily.

I finished the film and quickly put it into the sleeve, never to watch it again. In a strange way, I don't even want to see Montreal. I am such a perfect movie go-er, personalizing all I see.

Today I am printing some more and starting a new work for another project I am working on, about fading memories.

I am in the middle of it all...in the thick of it, pulling my legs slowly thru the waters of this emotion.

I feel like I am carrying a heavy load, so I move even slower.

Why do I even bother

Waiting

I had my latest Ultrasound today. I drank 45 minutes before the exam and only drank 75% of what I was asked to. I have been on this ride before and I have made a fool of myself too many times before. So I am taking hold of my dignity and making the rules now.

The tech was running late (hence my master plan had already paid off) and I was still uncomfortable but able to talk and move without thinking I was going to loose it.

I made my appointment with a lady and doing so had me wait an extra few days...as there is only a female tech for half the week and a male tech the other half.

The tech was kind and spoke softly and used my name over and over, made me feel like I was more then an uterus and bladder. She pointed things out things of interest along the trip and took a fair bit of time looking around. In her previous career she was a midwife that specialized in high risk pregnancy and was kind and kept saying she was sorry. It made the experience softer, more honest.

She said she had to leave that job because it was so heartbreaking.

" It is always the nicest people it happens to"

At one point on the exam, she turned on the sound and I heard a heartbeat....I wondered what it was like to hear a second heartbeat...beating even faster then your own.

She looked at me and said softly and kindly..."that is your heart."

It made me stop, it made me feel that deep deep hole in my heart.

It made me ache.

The results are already in and the call from the nurse was sweet.

My doctor had already lost the notes on me...and had already suggested I see OB/GYN for further "assistance in getting pregnant"

I swear I need a new doc, bedside manner of a dinner plate.

I spent at least a half of an hour telling her exactly what I wanted noted on my chart.

So as to avoid this situation, this exact situation!

I still have a cyst on my left ovary, but its presence needs to be watched as it has been camped out there for several months and its size and contents have a risk of rupture.

My uterus is enlarged and my there are several fibroids noted of various degrees.

My shape might be bicornate, but it is hard to tell because of the locations of the fibroids.

So now I am here again...40 and looking at the risks and benefits of going back on the pill.

I need to close the salad bar, no more midnight snacking kids.

No kids

Repeating my fears

Maybe it is the upcoming ultrasound, maybe it is leftover fear...

regardless my dreams last night were somewhat comforting, but mostly heartbreaking.

I was on the beach participating in a silent protest, were were all wrapped in wool blankets and had buried ourselves in the sand so we looked like freshly dug graves. Dirt piled mounds.

I was peeking out of my blanket to see if others were doing the same...and after a period of time we all began to sit up.

Someone behind me asked if I had my period...I wasn't sure how long I had been laying with everyone but for some time...and I said "no, why?" and then she said "Oh My God!"

I reached behind myself and felt wet, I pulled my hand up and saw blood; a handful of blood and tissue.

I realized I was having another miscarriage and wrapped myself up in my blanket to walk away...

When I got up I was dizzy and it was then that I realized I was still bleeding.

I wandered looking for someone to help me... I remember my brother picking me up and carrying me somewhere as I was blacking out and hearing peoples voices say she has lost so much blood.

~

At some point I came to a room and my grandmothers were there.

They told me that they would take care of it....

I was in some sort of portal between worlds.

My grandmothers had come to take the lost baby away to live with them.

It was then, that I knew that they were aware of this loss and that they were trying to help me.

Something in the dream told me that there was more then one child they were watching and I began to weep and sway. I passed out in my dream...and awoke.

Quiet

"many choices"

I have been quiet...and I think I am simply processing.

I have graduated from therapy and have been shifted to "call if needed" status.

This is a big deal for me. I think in many ways I am still adjusting.

 When I started therapy 5 years ago I had given up on myself and my hopes,

 I didn't care if I slept days away on pain pills or if I didn't eat.

I was a shell of a person and terrified that if I went into therapy

 I would not retain the very last bits of self that I had left.

I was gladly wrong.

I think I came out of the whole thing with myself, intact and recharged.

Over the last 5 years I learned to manage my grief, my dark depression, my infertility much much better.

I wanted to learn how to not be bitter.

I still struggle daily at times with sadness and anger, but I have the skills to find new ways to deal with it.

I speak a lot more openly about our infertility, and in fact will be having a solo art show that in centered around my personal experience with it.

I have stopped trying to push The Barreness away and instead strapped on the baby Bjorn.

I will always have her on my back; sometimes she will be asleep sometimes screaming demands.

Mothers Day

 

I made it thru mothers day...there was some drama, some backlash, some response to our absence.

I was able to turn the channel when a commercial came on, or when a movie played. I turned off the radio when an ad was touting the all you should do for your mother.

I mostly did damage control. Control potential damage. 

Mothers day also fell on my fathers birthday...I wanted to celebrate my dad's birthday but not Mothers day.

We did his birthday, a day early....it felt like we had moved his birthday, like I had asked them to change their lives because of our sensitives...this is still sitting heavy with me.

My father was a little upset that we don't celebrate mothers day...I am not sure he can really wrap his head around the depth of hubby and my loss; the daily reminders and images.

I managed to give gifts to four women, this year...it was the best I could do and was happy that I managed that. It was hard to walk past those of mother themed cards and images, but I did and came out with something for them. It hurt, but was manageable and I was able to pack it away into a box that I can address in smaller pieces as time passes.

We mostly stayed home, my hubby made us homemade waffles and we ate them causally and together.

We stayed inside and watched movies and in the afternoon attended an art event I was showing in.

The venue was filled with costumed children who shuttled about here and there squealing and laughing.

We heard a lot of people wishing each other a happy mothers day and I was silent...I tried to keep conversations on work and subject.

I felt mostly numb, mostly, sometimes it felt more like floating.
Like in a dream when you look in on yourself.

 

When I did feel, it was the deep deep sorrow that surrounds you like a bath.

Round and round

I began to shake, deep shaking and then the cramping....in fact I am still shaking...

I rushed to see...what I had feared.

 Blood lots of blood and tissue lots and lots of tissue.

I can not share this with anyone...I didn't get a postive pee test...I was late and thought nothing of it.

In many ways I am glad I didn't see the lines, only to find myself days later, here.

I am spun

saddened and spun

Infertility Awareness Week

What IF? A Portrait of Infertility from Keiko Zoll on Vimeo.

Visitor

I went in for my annual, I was kind of afraid, I was afraid of what might be found and what might get said.

I searched for a while when we had a choice of doctors, I wanted a real feeling of having a doctor that remembered me and cared about my health.

I think that time has past.

My blood pressure was elevated, to a point of concern.

(it reminded me of one doctor saying to me: "I am surprised you even go to a doctor anymore after all you have gone through")

My current doc did my pelvic exam and felt my lymph nodes, but was ready to leave after that.

It was then that I pulled out my list of questions and requested follow-up exams.

I need to schedule this and that and I would like...this is my yearly physical after all.

I was far more prepared then her.

She asked if I had any pregnancies and I told her about my miscarrages. She said they were not real pregnancies, that real ones have a postive pee test. I sank...I am a fake.

She told me at this point of the game, I could have a referral to a fertility specialist or have a hysterectomy.

I told her that those were not options for me.

We chose many years ago to not have assistance to get pregnant.

She followed up this with, "...then now would also be a good time to start the adoption process"

I told her that was not an option either.

I got my blood taken, peed in a cup and have slips for future ultrasounds and mammograms.

I have found the end of the road.

there is just barreness ahead of me.......no sign "thank you for visiting" or a pretty patch of wildflowers.

Just the end of the known road.

Really, you're not pregnant

My period arrived, a week and a half late.
One moment I was icky feeling and the next the back pain started and I was bleeding.
That quick, no gradual arrival...just a slam dunk.

I was afraid to look every time I went to the bathroom, I was afraid that there would be more evidence of another loss...another momentary motherhood.

Instead, I simply had a, "really you are not pregnant" kind of period.

Waiting at an empty station

My period has yet to arrive.
I was due to get it last week, Wednesday night is when it normally arrives...but it didn't.
Nor, did it appear, Thursday or Friday.
By Friday night I peed on a "You're not pregnant stick".
Then Saturday and Sunday passed with still no sign or even spotting.

I peed on another stick Sunday night..."You're still not pregnant"

I have only missed my period one other time, I was high, high up in the mountains of Nepal, and had been hiking for 10+ hours a day. I missed my period then and that was over 10 years ago. It was memorable then as it is now.

Except now, I am dealing with the mind-fuck that is infertility and the wake of two miscarriages.
Should I still pee on sticks to look for a faint, almost non-existent line, or continue to check the pee sticks I have already thrown into the trash because "maybe now that some real time has passed, it was really a positive and I just couldn't see it."

When should I stop wondering about this month, and have a glass of wine or stop wondering if that aspirin I just took was a good idea. When will I understand that the train is late, and might not stop at this station this month after all.

I wish I could have known you

It appears I lost another early pregnancy.

I am in total shock and wonder what I did to have this repeatedly happen to us.

I sat in the bath this time and watched the blood dissipate in the water...pieces of tissue floated and danced in the liquid. I thought of what might have been and how this was my only time with it before it all flowed away, down the drain.

I held the tissue in my hands and sang to it.

Over time, the pieces fell apart and became smaller and smaller until I was in a tub filled with slightly tinted water and tiny pieces of tissue.

I opened the plug and said goodbye, sitting and watching it all be pulled away and down into the darkness.

Goodbye sweet little something, I will never forget you.

Saturating

"I couldn't tell what was rain and what were tears"

I told my parents about our miscarriage today, I told them before I realized what words were falling out of my mouth. It surprised me and I could see the wind being knocked out of them.

My mother in her "way" told me that she thought I was pregnant and that she and my father were waiting for me to tell them.
She cried when I told her that it was gone, confirmed and gone. My father was silent and could not look at me for a long while. I don't think he knew what to say...or how to say what he wanted to say.

I told them I am racing the clock on the growing fibroids and that this was checkered flag...the last loss I could endure.

Ironically, my husband told someone today too, the first person he has shared it with and when I asked how he felt about sharing it he said "it made me really really sad, but I just told him..."
this is a really big thing for him...In someways I am very proud of him in others I am familiar with what he means and is possibly feeling.

Now I just have to fight feelings of imagining what it would have been and what it would have looked like and what we would have named it.

same news...different year

Well my desire to outwit and out hope my body have begun to be foiled yet again.
The results are back and were delivered by such a warm and kind person this time that the pain of its reality was almost unfelt.
I am growing again...and this time the ping pong game is back on about the shape of my uterus.
It appears that I might have calcified the older fibroids and grown a couple of new ones.
Only one appeared at the begining of the year and two plus some calciumed ones are there now. Plus my ovaries are making cysts and I have one folicle in one of my ovaries.
That one folicle will most likely become a cyst too....

It appears that my desire to grow is all about growing the wrong things or the right things for short periods of time.
Like an oyster, I have taken that speck of sand and coated it with hope apon hope untill I create a perfect orb that people will want to take from me.
Except my orb is not pretty and shiny, but intead hell-bent on taking me with it.

I planted seeds in my garden, at least I can watch that grown into something beautiful and right.

The results will be in shortly

I went to the ultrasound people yesterday....this after a very hard session with my therapist who insisted that I tell someone that I lost a pregnancy. So I am telling you....I lost a pregnancy and I am really not ok with it.
There.

In the real world, I told a long time friend, who repsonded in a surprising manner, thank goodness and was the perfect ear to tell it to. I also told my brother, who was quite shocked that I had lost a pregnancy.

So back to the probes...I went to the clinic and had the 417th ultrasound done, far less in real life...and was greeted with a tech who was all about me "keep trying" and how she lost one and that now she has a baby and that her sister had IVF because she wanted a boy and they spun the sperm to get one....argh
enough, oh and the URBAN myth of a woman here in my town who has two prgnancies in her bicornate uterus and they are two months apart...etc wtc WTF

She thinks I have a bicornate uterus, this can mean one of two things, I really do...or my fibroids are begining to rearrange things again.
then she saw two fibroids...only one was noted at the begining of the year. Then there was question if I had a calcuim fibroid...an oldie but a goodie.
But none were in my my uterus so I am fine to have a kid...go for it. Well, try and fail at it and then try not to slit your wrists from the pain of failure.
Oh and you have like a million follicles too....your ovaries are crazy.

I should hear all this and more next week when my results will be officially in.

So I left there, with a patch of missed ultrasound jelly in my crotch and a new sense of broken.
" Hello yes, I am the Barreness I will be your server for this meal of humble pie"

Sorrow

Something has shifted...I am starting to experiece sensations that I have in the past.
Aching in my bladder, a plucking cramp that flows along my lower abdomen...signs that things are shifting.
I have been off of birth control for about 9months now...ironic I know....that was not lost on me.
I have a dear friend that is expecting next month, we started trying at the same time....she got lucky, I got a whole lot of "hahah you're not pregnant" pregnancy tests.

I went to the doctor yesterday and had some things confirmed....no infections (damn I wanted a quick fix)
My uterus is enlarged and now tilted...that is a new one.
and yes, it sounds like I had another miscarrage.

Saying those words aloud hurt...I almost whispered it to the doctor. It seemed that saying it to someone other then myself or my husband made it really really real.
It seems pathectic that, at this junction, when things are shifting, I was pregnant for a small small time... and things have begun to go haywire again....meaning that I might be going back onto the pill to reset my uterus again, but this time until menapause. sigh

This was the last road, this was the last try...this was it.
I pulled the short straw, I lost.

Gone

My love had been planning a getaway for us for our anniversary....it was a wonderful break from his normal way of doing things. He kept it a secret and until the day before, I was not aware where we were going.
My period was late again but I thought nothing of it until it arrived. When it did, things were not the same ol' same 'ol.....in fact they were strangely familar to actions of the past.
I began to bleed very heavily and felt quite woozy, then came the signs that something was lost.
I think I lost another very early pregnancy.

This was something that I had seen before...and it didn't really hit me until months later...this time, it hit me like a sponge and I was left wet. I carried the quiet knowledge with me this time and let it slowly dry in small bits. I had gained another year of marriage but possibly lost being a mother again.

We drove many many miles and saw many beautiful things and were reminded why we love each other.
I was strangely calm all weekend...I think I was simply just quiet.
We both were.

Hot cocoa

I am propably the last person to see Angels in Ameria...it was great, well the parts I saw as I came in on the last third I think.
I was able to see the final scene with Harper and her final journey into Antartica...telling Mr Lies about her life with the eskimo...it made me cry. Knowing that she was not pregnant but had this lovely and quirky fantasy about the baby and her:
something like : Maybe it will be born with white fur covering its whole body, and it will never be cold and my breasts will be filled with hot cocoa to feed it with and we will live here and be happy....

The sweet sweet idea of what life could be like with the baby she will never have, or wishes she had.
I was in tears...taken quite off guard by it, but so comforted by it.

There is a similar scene in Casa De Los Babies, when Susan Lynch was telling her dream to the woman making her bed, about the snowy morning that she goes and wakes up the warm little wrapped lump in the bed and has a play day with them. Another beautiful dream of a child.

It is these dreams that I am soaking in...at times it feels as though I am drowning overflowing with imagined children, trips, conversations and hopes.

I am fighting, almost daily, from being broken by them.
I feel weaker at times and fear I will simply crumble...other times I have a lot of duct tape.

Autumn

It has been a while

I haven't written in a while, as I was trying to distract myself with living.

I have had a lot of other events to play with and so this constant undercurrent has been mutable.

In the last week it has been churning, maybe because I have begun to loose focus, the battle to remain in check has been just that, a battle.

I have felt so overwhelmingly lonely as of late that it makes me feel even smaller.

I tried to clean, thinking that what I needed was to simply find order again and then all those trains can run on all their own tracks and I could jump from train to train depending on my mood.

My trains keep finding junctions, forks, meeting points.

I keep having this feeling like I am forgetting something and simply whittling away my days. Thinking tomorrow I will do more, tomorrow I will be more, tomorrow will be better.

When will today be that tomorrow?

I often find myself looking in circles, staring at walls or going to my pacifier the TV to make me forget that all is not running smoothly. I am unfocused and afraid that I have really blown it.

I really want to start living, but I don't know how...

I am in fear of slipping back into a deep depression, falling behind on my hopes for my art...the trains all colliding and exploding, leaving nothing recoverable behind for me to find.

How will I find my way out of this dark, moody place I am in...

A call for empathy

my response to a beautiful call for empathy:

"So wonderfully written, I am overwhelmed with its bare honesty, and beauty.
I am still working on finding my path of peace, where the deep deep pain can be a lessened. I still try to not to cry when nieces and nephews have birthdays, and many times fall on days when I get my period. All those times I had hoped for...all those days they can not share with a cousin.
Friends still offer suggestions for fertility, and although I know it is coming from a place of love...it feels insulting. Don't you think I have tried all I could think of?
Empathy is not a word I think many consider with us, but instead sympathy. "

It's that time again....

This struck me as funny, and seeing that the moon is full and my womb is not...I thought it was only fair to post something that made me laugh for a change:
Pregnant Women Are Smug by Garfunkel and Oats

Big kisses to these ladies!!

End of the line...

With this most recent cycle, I have had mini panic attacks.
I am fine one moment then in an instant I am not...I start to have a hard time breathing, I am spinning and then sobbing.

I am the end of the line....this train is going to sit in the station.
No packages to deliver, no news to send forth...no passengers to carry.

It was a photo of my great great grandparents that triggered it for me.
My great great grandmother had 11children, all lived. My maternal great grandmother, died a week after giving birth to my grandmother....I thought for years that that would be my fate too.
I would have a close call or die after giving birth to my own child.
Little did I realize, it would have been by my own doing, instead of the entrance of a child it was the loss of what can not be.

I have started photographing my family pictures, the old ones, the ones over 50years old and making CD's of the images to be passed onto others as years pass and generations become that. I am trying in some way I guess, to make a legacy of my own. I am trying to make some sort of mark in the face of all this.
For when I am gone, it will be only my photos that live on...maybe.

For now I am doing this for my niece and nephew...to let them know I was here and I cared enough about them and all who came before us.

Nothingness

I don't feel like doing anything, nothing.
I have tried, in fact most of this week, has involved me trying. Pushing forward and moving...slowly but moving none the less.

I think the level of loneliness has started to pile up on me.
I feel very alone.

A friend mentioned that they were going to gather pine cones for me. Apparently they are a symbol of fertility. I told her I couldn't do this any longer, I wanted off the roller coaster, I wanted to gain back the life lost in waiting and hoping. I told her this months ago, I think she is still hoping for me. She and I had started to try at the same time, and now she is 13 weeks pregnant and I am waiting for my late period to begin.
I know it is late, as I took another pregnancy test this morning and was greeted with another "not pregnant" on the stick.

It is only a matter of time, before she begins to realize that I am not a fertile womb. Heck it is only now that I am really coming to terms with the idea that I am not going to be a mother.

So I continue to bob in the vast ocean of this reality. My arms and legs numb, my back sore...my desire to eat ice cream on a stick- strong.

Summer is here and I am flooded with images of idyllic childhoods, and times gone by....and I feel nothing when I am not crying.

Numb all over

As I wonder into the new unknown, I find myself numb.
Numb from tip to toe...and the efforts to make myself happy are becoming harder and harder to muster.
It is an effort...I find times in the day when I am berating myself for not doing more or simply sitting and zoning out.
I have been told I have insomnia, but I have found myself sleeping better the last few nights since the news. Yesterday I could barely move my neck and today it is fine.
I am given days when all seems to fall apart and others when it is all reset again.

As the first period after my "safety time" is approaching I am not sure what lies ahead, I have a new doctor on the horizon and we have no history or knowledge of one another. Where would I go if things go wrong?

I am lost, so very lost.

Slam Bam

I have been slammed again, this time overnight.
I went to bed with the aid of a sleeping pill last night in hopes to sleep thru any changes.

I awoke to back pain once again.
I tried to do some work today, so that I didn't get pulled onto the couch for the whole day but, as the day progressed I was feeling less and less ok. It was more of a struggle to get stuff done and by 5:30 I was laid out on the couch. Slam, and bam onto my ass.

Now I have a blank mind, simply wondering what the future really holds for me. Now that I will have my period every month again, now that new friends will have babies around me as the months pass. I wonder where I will fit in this all.

I am still an oddity of sorts, a woman who stopped the process.
I still have the little voices wondering what if we tried a different way, or went further...but even still we didn't get pregnant.

I am feeling quite lonely recently...a lost sense of me in this world.
I am simply letting it all come as it does and process it at a pace that seems real and complete.
I am doing this alone now, maybe that is why I feel so lonely.
I miss having friends that call and chat, I miss hanging out with people. I can still do that, but I have to call the people or go out and find the event.
My art is helping me with some of that....
My art is slowly saving me.

Wondering while Wandering

So now that I am continuing to swallow the reality of our childless womb, and with another cycle coming to an end, it simply leaves me wondering or Wandering...
Who can I really relate to, where are my people?
I search often for other infertility stories, online, on television...in life.
I found a treasure trove of blogs today...I have linked them here.
I felt a little less alone, a little more "normal", maybe just little.

I have a different story then others.
I have chosen to stop the insanity before I am committed, I have chosen to retain a healthy marriage, I have chosen to not allow science into my womb any longer.
I was reading a blog today that addressed the loss of modesty in the process of fact finding. I was ripped back to my own experiences and trying to keep a stiff upper lip when new and different people came into rooms to probe my misshaped womb. "Hi there I am attached to the uterus you are looking at"
Only sometimes did this work...and I got a response.

I wander daily in my mind, when I see something that I would have shared.
Sometimes get lost for hours, sometimes only minutes but regardless I get lost in the seduction.

It is only when I catch myself do I actively reel myself in again.
The fact that I reel myself back is a new advancement.

For far too long I was seduced by that dark deep pool, wondering how far down does this go, why fight the weight of the water.

I am still seduced by the sounds of the sirens; The Barreness and her sweet quiet songs.
I still allow myself to stare into the pool once a month, and mourn what I had hoped for.
What will never be.

In my well planned and imagined conversations in my head, while on the seductive wanderings, I heard myself say:
"You came to me from a dream, you are a dream come true."

New Wave

The wake of this past cycle has left me wondering when my daydreams of a child will be quelled. We have tried, in the book smart way...ovulation sticks and temperatures and counting and having sex around the clock; and found ourselves in the hospital with ovarian cysts and pain that made me blind.

We took a "break" and I went back onto the pill for a few years...

Then we re-visited it again this year...but this time tried by not trying. Our results are the same.
Given that my best chances were in the first 6weeks...and we are into the 4th cycle...it is not a good sign.

I count days and wonder, did we make a baby this time? I survey my body, wanting to feel the very moment that I become pregnant, but these have fallen short too.

Hope is the sweetest seduction.
It is hard to reel it back in once it has been cast so far out.

I feel like I have been watching that plastic little buoy for years, bobbing on the surface of the water, waiting patiently for the fish to bite.
My worm has fallen off , and only a bare hook remains...that is not very attractive to any fish.

Waves lap at the shore, pulling all else towards me, while the little plastic buoy floats on the waters surface farther and farther away.

Happy Mothers Day...everyone else

This is what I was greeted with....yesterday morning.
I got my period later in the day.
I like to think that I have developed the ability to take a good kick in the gut.

Today I decided to stay in and watch crappy TV all day.
Happy Mother's Day, everyone else.

oh my aching back

I don't notice it all the time, but mostly when I sit still.
I have been off the pill for three months now...this is when I wanted to check in with myself and see how I was feeling.
Well I am three months out and have found that what I experienced the last time I went off the pill to not be the same this time out.
I still have handfuls of hair falling out of my head.
I still seem to be holding onto the extra weight from the pill
I still seem to have zero sex drive
I still am not pregnant.

What I am noticing is that I am developing month after month a lingering ache in my lower back...sometimes higher...but lingering ache.
The ache was the first thing I remember mentioning to the doctor when things started spiraling last time.
I am due to get my period this week, so i expected some additional ache...but the ache seems to be present before and after.

Maybe it is from the ache of all that I have been carrying...all this information, all this disappointment.

All is quiet

All is quiet...my period arrived and with it a slamming backache.
I guess I am going to experience the classic low back pain of endometriosis with my cycles.

I was moody and exhausted, but spent time in my studio trying to forget that I will not be a mother in this life. I was trying to compensate for my lack of fertility with another outlet of creative making, my art or gardening.
I get joy, (a feeling I am re-introducing myself to, as the feeling has been absent from my knowledge base for some time) from creating something tangible. My art is real, my food is real.

I catch myself breathing deeply while working on a new project, reminding myself to be in the moment, be present. This simple act seems difficult at times, but one I am working with...as my daydreams lead me down dark paths of things to never be and times I will never have.

My hopes for divine intervention from relatives gone before me, has left me feeling alone and forgotten, and absolutely lost.
What happened to wishes from heaven, miracles or magic....

I can only believe in nature now...Mother Nature and The Barreness, these are the only real things I know now.

Awaiting the disapointment

As time continues to tick away, I have found myself thinking less and less about the idea of a baby.
I think I am in a new part of my personal grief about the loss. I still can not really wrap my mind around many facts, but mostly I am sad.

I have no clue when my period will arrive, it is on a schedule I am not familiar with or aware of.
It arrived late last month, so I am not sure what to expect this time as well. It should be here this week, but has yet to arrive.
I sometimes freak out that I have grown another HUGE cyst and that I am a ticking bomb. My cyst waiting for our insurance to run out, so that it would happen when it would cost the most damage physically and financially.
or
I have grown nothing and that all of my past pains are a thing of the past and now I get to simply have the loss instead.
Sometimes that pain justified it all to me, made the loss more real, more understandable and more angry.
With no pain and no anomalies, I am simply left with the loss and a surreal sense of undone. How pathetic and sad.

Branded and cast out of the village.
Barren.

Come and Gone

6 weeks has come and gone and I feel a strange sense of empty.

Mind you, I am familiar with the empty of not having kids, but this seems different.
I feel like I have started mourning all over again. I am retracing my former steps again.
I have become aware that my drive to "try one more time" seems like beating a dead horse.

I have lost my chance to be a mother, I think the idea of riding that roller coaster all over again has come and gone. I am a solo rider...I am on this road with my husband and if we are lucky we can have a few young people close to us.

For now, I simply am going to introduce myself to The Barreness and tell her how I am going to play this game.

Day by day for now.

Same stick different day

In the face of all the risks and low chances....we went for it, taking the best chances of getting pregnant in the first 6weeks as a sign, I had lots of eggs ready to release, we had sex (unknown to us) during my most fertile time in the cycle) and I had loaded up on prenatal vitamins for a few weeks...we were relaxed and not thinking about anything but having sex and fun.

We jumped off the cliff without a parachute...not knowing fully what we were going to face.

So we decided to try and not try....I am on no birth control and neither is he.
We had a lot of fun and now my period is not here, not even in the late version.

We were terrified, and excited....but mostly SCARED beyond words...
Does this mean we really don't want to be parents after all? Does it means that we are selfish to want to just settle into our lives and not have kids after all this?
The dreams of and about children the last few night lead us to believe otherwise.
But aside from the fear we were ready to face, head on all the challenges and risks in the face of all the terror and fear.

I peed on the stick and began to cry, and left the stick in the bathroom... I was sure we were pregnant.



Turns out we weren't.
again

and so we begin again...

After days of tears and another meeting with the doctor to ask questions ....which seemed to confuse her.
I took a prenatal vitamin tonight.
I am not even sure I want a kid, in fact at times I know I don't have it in me....but there are other times when I think I might.
It seems like I want to be in this group of women and at other times I don't want to be.

My automatic response is aversion...but I think that is learned.
If I think about it, it is not that bad.
And sometimes it is.

I am still not sure where I stand...all I know is that I have decided to not take the pill for a cycle of three months to start with and see how things go from there.
I dream of loosing weight and my hair looking normal and staying in my head and sleeping a real sleep and wanting to have sex all the time.
I almost assume that I will not get pregnant, in some ways it is a comforting feeling. I know I can check that box off in my head again and for good.
Then the idea that I might get pregnant enters my head and I freak out and wonder...about way too many things.
all that can go wrong mostly...I don't immediately see all that can go right....but what I will endure and survive (hopefully) thru.
I want so badly to speak to a friend about this, and my doubts and feelings...but I seem to come up short.
I still feel so alone in this process....
I have a "baseline" ultrasound on Monday to see how big and where my fibroids are.
I am anxious...and will most likely go alone.
I have a blood test too...I will likely go alone.

I am alone in a lot of this....and hopeful that my husband will find a job soon.
Please let him find a job...

Happy Anniversary

It has almost been 4 years since the announcement of my faulty uterus and ovaries and the medical industries desire to remove it.

I know this, as not only do I carry it every day, but it is marked by the birth of my goddaughter.

I was in pain the night she was born but refused to leave my friends side while she labored to have her. Three days later I was in the ER with a nearly exploding ovary, and a doctor telling me that I should just have my ovaries removed. A week following that, I was taking pictures of another friends wedding who was full with baby.

Over these last years I have:

* Been working on resetting my body and fighting off knives and suggested surgeries.

* I have been taking birth control pills and praying that I got a dummy pack and would amazingly still get pregnant.

* I have been suppressing the anger from a misdiagnosed ultrasound that changed my whole world.

* I have been in grief counseling to help me come to terms with the loss of what was taken away

* I have locked away my dreams of a child

* I have worked on not being cynical, but have not been successful

* I have tried to convince myself that being a woman without baring children still makes me whole, when knowing it is me simply ignoring a huge hole within myself

* Tried to believe that the universe is really not out to get me for things I have done in my life

* Worked on understanding that I did not will this on myself

* Stated to myself that my husband got shortchanged, duped, or "the rug pulled out" from him

I had my annual with my doctor this last month, it is one of the worse experiences for me as I am often in the office with a woman who is about to burst-babies. This year it was simply me...refreshing and a sign of what was going to be different.

My doctor had written last year that "I didn't want" children and I was set to get this information straight this year.

I came out of the gates on fire the minute she walked into the door...and explained that I would always want children, but did not want assistance to create them...

I knew that after so long and false test results I was past the prime to have them now...

She examined me and stated something I had not heard to date...

" I think you should try again if you want"

I have a 40% chance that something would go wrong...and not have a "perfect" child at my age.

But

that means that there is a 60% that all will be fine.

I have high risks of long bed rest and gestational diabetes, c-sections and extreme pain from the 2nd trimester until birth (because of the possibility of my fibroids dying from lack of blood)

All these things are to be weighed in our thoughts about trying again....trying again

Opening Pandora's box....

Semen sample in my cleavage....turns out his sperm is perfect....it is all me.

It is now that the we wait, and see if we want to have a baby...reopening that door is dangerous. I was hit when twisting the knob to the door, I was overtaken with all my boxed away hopes and dreams...I was smothered with desires and visions of a small person all our own.

I have taken on the name and proudly (if not quietly) held the title The Barreness for so many years. Would I be the person that I despised, the person who finally got pregnant after years of not getting pregnant...or will I return to my lair after weeks of new physical and emotional pain.

Once I step into this pool, it is hard to get back out if things go wrong....

It has been a while...maybe some things just will never change

It has been a while since I have posted my feelings.
My emotions are raw right now...a few things have collided at the same time again for me.
Things often seem to happen in groups in my life...a constant overlay of feelings...so I spend days, weeks or months trying to unpeel one from another as others stack anew on top of them.

I was working hard this December, trying to make all my other ventures succeed, when I got a call that my Grandmother was about to die. I rushed off to see her one final time and ended up lost in a week...then another and here I am three weeks out, still trying to get back on my bike of life and get pedaling again.
In the meantime, Christmas and Solstice and Hanukkah have all appeared and so have the children, as a seeming mocking reminder.
A visit with my husbands lifelong friend started in a park, filled with children at play...most of which (at least 6 of them) followed us back to the parents home while another 7 or so went to another home. Then the hours of visiting consisting of watching and cooing over the children followed. Conversations about how all his friends have kids...and be careful you might want some of your own too...
SERIOUSLY HAVE THEY ALL FORGOTTEN! DO WE NEED TO SEND BI-ANNUAL REMINDERS OUT!
I spent that visit quiet and vacant in my mind, though, I think I was able to pull off the "Mona Lisa" smile for most of it.

This visit was followed up with a house call to my parents, to simply check in on them. A few more emotional hours followed that.

I had a visit from a friend, wanted to spend some time with me, all while escaping from her 3 year old, husband and mother-in-law for the night. We heard a lot of stories of how she is being tested and how trying it is raising this 3 year old has become. We did our best to sympathize all while making sure she did not think we were judging her. We weren't, we were simply jealous of every trail and task that she is facing. Even the "grass is always greener" theory didn't stick for long.

All the while I am mourning my grandmothers loss....she and I had a unique relationship. I was the first grandchild and the first girl in I don't really know how many generations...so my birth was special and my development was watched and critiqued. Sometimes quite harshly.
I was terrified to tell my grandmothers of my loss, my, our inability to have a child. I am the last one in my family to carry on our faith, my husband is the last of his namesake...so it was a big deal.
My grandmother had also started stepping deeper into dementia and Alzheimer's so I was afraid of the constant repeated questions. When I told her, she simply cried. No words...just tears. She never mentioned it again, except to ask if I was still in pain. That amazed me. I think under all that loss she understood I was lost too.
I watched her take her last breath, and I watched my father cry a deep wailing cry.

One friend called me after her death to see how I was. I called all of them, let them know and all the details of the funeral and all....the same friend that called sent a card a week later...but that was it. I feel run over, I feel lost...and confused and alone.

Someone at the gallery said "oh I am sure your grandmother would be proud"...it set off a series of questions in my mind. All of which made me wonder whether she would be or not. She didn't really understand why I chose the Arts for a life long vocation...and made her displeasure of it clearly known. So I am not sure...still.

I have an appointment for an annual this week...I dread them; not for the normal fingers in all orifices reasons, but the questions that are required.
I am dead set in letting her know that her statement at last years meeting " so you don't want children" is not true...but instead that the correct answer is, " I will always want children, but assistance to make them is where we have drawn the line"
I go over that conversation in my head, over and over again, and it always feels like I am being attacked and need to defend myself.
I don't like that feeling.

So here I sit at some random hour of the day or tomorrow or whenever.
I feel lost, alone, afraid and sad all at the same time.
I just want to feel something lighter this year...happier, and fulfilled.
I don't want to carry The Barreness around all year with me. I want to turn her on her ear and make her squirm.

I went to the garden this morning to water and check the veggies, and I started to ask my husband to take a picture of me...I often took pictures of my food or me in the garden and sent them to my grandmother to enjoy. I stopped in my tracks today and simply cried and felt silly.
I took a picture...but I can not send it. I simply have it as a reminder of where I am today and all the layers of feelings and thoughts I am under.

It's been a while

It has been a while since I written.

I have been working on my management skills...

* Managing how to live every day with out breaking down while walking past a field of kids playing.

*How to not yell at a mother who is acting out at her frustrated kid

*How to not cry at every commercial that has a parent and a child.

*How to not be bitter

I am an artist, a maker of things and ideas.

The inability to make a child was a blow to my creative self...to my soul.

I have been squirrelling away ideas and images of my infertility and have decided that it is time to start working with them "out loud".

I am a print maker and have started a series of my infertility images, ones that have deep resonance for me.

Below is the first image in the series:

Pieces of my heart

I have just returned from a vacation with my husband and our friends. We traveled with a family of four, to a resort that was VERY family oriented. I never thought about that as we booked the trip or were getting ready. If I did think of it, it was in passing.

I was slammed head-on when the time came, well, when we sat down for our 5 hour plane trip.
We were on a plane filled with families; parents, babies and toddlers.
It was like being on a school bus for a field trip.

I put in my earplugs and worked on my management mantras. I thought I was doing well until I spied a little boy with bright red hair.
The color I imagined our child would have had.
He was beautiful and quiet and perfect.
I could feel my tears welling up...my heart breaking just a little, yearning to hold him in my lap and smell his soft bright hair.
As I closed my eyes, my husband caught sight of me and whispered " I'm sorry"

I was lost for a while after that, at some point I got myself to fall asleep for a little bit. When I woke, he was playing with my goddaughter, closer to me even still. I was lost again in the daydream of a child.

We spent 7days at a family resort, trying to avoid child based activities and places, to no real avail. We spent a lot of time watching our friends play with their children on the beach and hear the girls argue and make up tales from their imagination.

Some days left us running for the quiet of our room, other days just left us quiet.

In the end, we decided that we had fun for the most part, but would want to go to an adult only place next time, or simply on our own.

The Barreness was in my backpack, showing me all I have lost and all I never got the chance to have.

20 years later

As I near what will be a 20 year marker, I am faced with words I have chosen to not mutter except amongst very close friends or family.
I am going to be asked over and over and over again if I have kids.
I have tried to take the title of The Barreness by the reins and ride the wave high and openly in order to answer this question with ease.

I am trying to integrate into everyday language that I am not able to have babies...I can not make them or grow them. I did not choose this, nor did anything to make this happen. My infertility is something that was done to me, chosen for me and must be carried by me.

I read a great article in BITCH Magazine(issue 40) and found some vindication in it and it's powerful need to bring us infertile ones out into the light.
It is with this article that I have found a revival in my need to take the title again, but this time truly try and wear the crown with grace and pose.

Mother F***'s Day

I know that the holiday was created by the card industry, but it doesn't change the fact that I wish I could avoid it all together and let it be just a normal Sunday.
I still have to honor my Mother and mother in law and so on...I have made the obligatory gifts for the reproducers that will be attending my Aunt's soiree this weekend.
She has decided to now call the day "woman's day" in feel in a vain attempt to try and rectify what she has blown apart with me.
Changing the name does not change the feelings that I have about the day or the life long herstory of what the day means to me.
I watched for years as these women were honored at a Sunday brunch and doted on with ooooh and awww's and little gifts were bestowed to them and I watched thinking that one day, I would be in the circle of honored women.
When I found out that I was not going to be in that circle I stopped going to the "production" but instead opted to simply have a quiet celebration with my mother. My Aunt does not truly understand what a HORRIBLE day it is for me. It is a grief day for me. I grieve that I will not be a mother, I will not be in that inner circle of women. I am hard to relate to because of it.

This year, she has re-named the day.
I am fuming, as my mother is going to this event and that seems to be the only real way I can spend a little of the day with her. I will drag my ass to a home I wish to not be in, be subject to questions I don't want to answer kindly, be around people that will wonder about me and my reproductive system and witness this ritual of doting again. I will be miserable.
No amount of alcohol can change this.

To top this lovely sundae off we are also celebrating my father's 60th birthday that day, as he feels that "everyone will be there,so it will be easy"

I hope to have some time to simply cry and grieve for what was taken from me.
I am The Barreness.

Upcoming Birthday Mantras

With my birthday in just a few days, I am experiencing what I do every year. The questions we all ask ourselves from time to time. It just seems that my daily desire to find an answer to this question is dialed up even more in the days just shy of my birth.
What the hell have I done with this life of mine?!

When I was small my birthday was a HUGE deal, I was the first grandchild and to boot the first girl in several generations to be born on my father's side. I was my parents first kid, and the first niece and I was one of the first kids to be born in my parents circle of friends. When I was born, I was blue and not breathing, I was given CPR twice to bring me back. It was considered a big deal by my parents and doctors. Sometimes that scenario goes through my head when I think of my Barreness, maybe I was suppose to be "weeded out". Darwin's theory, survival of the fittest; or in this case the fertile.

As I aged, my birthday was celebrated highly and I began to get use to a party and a big "ta do" about it. But when 30 hit, it all started to quiet down, I had aged, aged to a point where big parties are not a big thing; unless they were landmark years. I have been learning and embracing the simpler birthday's these last few years. Last year my husband and I simply went to dinner, no balloons, no flood of cards. I am looking at it as a practice in humility.

It was when asking what I wanted to do this birthday that I realized something.
Most of my older family is no longer around, I have left my job and a lot of socializing behind.
There really are not a lot of people in my life anymore.
Maybe I have started walking that path of humility, making my life simpler and quieter.
Parties are meant for big reasons....me gaining another year of life, simply isn't that big of a deal.
Right?

I am still looking for the smoothest road to walk on that one.
I keep finding a lot of rocks in my way.

What was that?

I have officially left my job. It feels more and more wonderful as time passes.

My plan is to re-connect with my creative side, make as much as I can for as long as I can.
My husband feels this is what I am suppose to REALLY be doing.
I have given up fighting it anymore and have just welcomed the chance to be creative again.

I have been sewing non-stop for three weeks now; making the clothes I had started making for my nieces and nephews and expanded the line to other things as well. I am hoping to add more as time passes.

I sold some items to a family friend and they were asking if I was trying to get a line of clothes made. I expressed that I make everything myself and like the one-of -a- kindness of the clothes. That seemed strange to them; but what was even more odd was the fact that I might just stop one day. As I explained that it is a very emotional process for me, making clothes for other peoples children.

This was lost on them and was simply followed with the question" why don't you make more?"

Deaf ears are a true friend to The Barreness.

It's lonely out here

So I have been released from my job.
Well, technically, I took a leave of absence for 8 weeks.
According to my doctors and my husband, I was/am in need of some serious downtime.
To avoid being sent to the sea or a sanatorium I took the time off; though the idea of being filled with drugs and weeks of sleep are appealing....I opted for the more grassroots version.

I am amazing how my mental health can be so easily brushed aside by me.
Even after seeing a show by Doctor Oz on what stress does to your body and how no matter how you manage it, it still takes a physical toll.
I got scared, and cried a lot and then forgot all about it.
It was when I woke up in the middle of the night to find myself half way across my bedroom looking for an incoming fax...we do not have a fax machine.
It was after that, that I gave work the information.
" I am being encouraged to take time off, to at the very least, get some sleep"
I haven't had a real night of sleep in a LONG time.

I had to stop being so naive, stop ignoring the exhaustion and try and find some sense of happy again. I love my husband too much to check out early over a STUPID job.

Now, now I have so much time, I can sit for hours contemplating all the things that have gone wrong in my life over the last few years while I was distracted by this job.
All that I have lost and not become.
Time sometimes wounds all heals....or at least rips off all those carefully laid band-aids.

I am the Barreness, I shall bear no children.
I am lonely.