Breathe Deep

 

 

I really don't have much to say, at least it doesn't feel like it these days.

I am not mad or angry at much, I am not deeply saddened or depressed about much.

I am feeling quiet and content. Deeply so.

Like I am floating above chaos and breathing deeply the sweet air above.

 

I have completed my 5weeks of yoga, that the groupon* availed. I have changed my eating, in a way that makes me think more about what I am putting into my mouth and to be honest, it was easy. If anything, I am pretty bored of food now and tend to eat the same thing over and over out of lack of interest or motivation to do something else. I was eating a lot of food before that I wanted to simply fill me, I am pretty sure now, more emotionally than nutritionally.

*(groupon is a coupon program that you can get discounted services for a period of time, just long enough to either make you addicted or revolted and move on or move in)

 

I don't look like the other yoga students that fill my weekly classes,and that is OK. I am finding  that over time I am comparing myself less and less to others and just working on being comfortable in the skin I now possess.

I am slowly becoming friends with that reflection in front of me in the mirror. I understand

now that my desire for a flat tummy will never be, as my uterus is a permanent 10week size,

and I still eat goat cheese now and again.

That is one of the sweet things about this life of mine.

Learning and embracing that although I thought it was gonna be one way, it might actually be something else that is going to be sweet too.

 

None of the classes are spiritual in any way, I am finding for myself, it allows me in the post hyperventilation glow to find things that work well for me. 

 

At this point in my journey I am finding that I need to be in that yoga class at least 4 times a week.

I only go to the hot classes. I spend and hour sweating more then any other time in my whole life; for me, the sweating is another way of crying, and releasing all that sorrow, grief, weight and pushed down emotions. No one can tell if you are crying in those sweaty classes...no one cares.

It is so liberating and cathartic for me.

 I am doing less art right now, as all that energy is spent on my practice. I wake up at 4:30 in the am on some days to get to class before work. It feels good,

once I convince my eyes they really do want to be open.

 

I had a talk with myself asking, how much longer do I want to ask a question that I will never get an answer for or an answer I will like?

Do I still want to grieve, mourn and be debilitated by sadness?

What do I really want?

The answer for me was to simply be happy, just a casual unprocessed happy.

 

The Barren and I shared a meal last night (he has been traveling a lot for work) and he asked how I was, I told him that I stress about money when I need to think about it,

but other than that I am really content.

This are far from perfect and this life has been full of surprises, most of which were not good ones.

I feel now, that I am really working on a reincarnation, I picked a new path.

It is not easy, I still find myself watching adorable poppins play in fountains and squeal through parks and outdoor patios, but I find myself asking why not me a lot less.

 

Chilling

 

I wanted to check in with you

I am doing well, in fact I really feel like things are changing for real!

Today I am relaxing and collecting thoughts

I will be back soon

 

Have a peaceful weekend

be kind to yourself



Finding my way

I don't know exactly when it happened or how...but something has shifted in a new and better way.

Do you ever have those moments when you realize that after much effort and not much thought about how long you have been at it...it shifts.

 

I have recently realized this;  my eyes are clearing, my heart is lifting...my sadness is abating.

I don't know what I did, so I am hesitate to turn too quickly or jump up and down for joy.

I have been tested too, there is no doubt about that.

We had our 10 year old niece this last weekend and had fun for the most part, but there was a lot of negotiating. Like getting into the shower after the pool (first world problem I know), or begging her to finally go to sleep in the dark at midnight (after I had been up since 4:30am for yoga that same day), and then the final straw...me physically lifting her into the car to go home
and her crying over half way back.

I mostly thought, fuck, I am too old for this shit....

 

As she whimpered from the back seat folded over her pillow, I used phrases like:

" I hear what you are saying, I know you are disappointed, but we made a promise to be home at a certain time and we have to stick by it"

"I am sorry you are so frustrated, I understand you and know how you feel"
" It is breaking my heart that this is how our fun time is ending"

 

I then tried to regain normalcy, I knew she wouldn't talk to me, but she was listening, so I sang along with this song...and told her how it was my favorite one right now: 

 

 

 

as she heard my voice join the music she picked her head off the pillow,
and looked at me in a new way. I kept singing over and over
I love you
   I love you....
 

By the time we got home she was talking to me again, telling me how she was watching youtube videos about how to make "cat eyes" and I told her I would try to do them and

then send her a picture of my trials.

I have a 10year old niece, who I struggled to understand and keep up with all weekend long. The Barren and I both crumbled to dust when her crocodile tears appeared and we both realized that we are not at a point in our lives anymore where we could parent and play....

we can only do one or the other.

Is that wrong to admit ?

 

This was followed by me making a belly cast of my SIL who is due in just a couple weeks.

This whole pregnancy I have not asked to feel her tummy, I don't feel a need to anymore.

It is beautiful and she is careful to not complain about her pregnancy around me....I think that is really kind. As I was building the layers of plaster around, further and further away from her skin, I found that I started to admire the form, the round fullness and wondered why not mine...

it lasted for only a moment and then washed away, I felt light again...

I think I am really making a new neuro-pathway.

It is a delicate structure still, I understand that, but I am actually building it

and it feels quite empowering.

 

When I returned from the emotional roller coaster, The Barren and I went out for a glass of wine and cheese. We just dropped everything and did it...as we were slowly getting loopy we flirted with the idea of a late movie or a night time wander...for us the whole night was still ahead

Weapon of my own construction

I am crazed.

I went to yoga four times last week and have plans to do the same again this week.

I am addicted to the momentary feelings of freedom.

No one talks in class, no one shares baby pictures,

or complains about how they are exhausted from a sleepless night.

There are no children at the studio.

No prenatal classes, or kids classes.

I am free.

 

It is a strange sensation, a new one and I feel as though it is allowing me to forge my new path.

I am working hard to create this new vision for myself, but I am in with both feet!

I am making sure that I feel good, complete and without guilt.

That is no small potato

I am working hard in my art and in my relationships.

If it doesn't feel good, I smile and walk away.

 

Even in its short amount of time, I have found this return to my practice
has already served as a weapon of protection.

I had dinner with my crazy ass SIL and her sons on Friday, at The Barrens mom's place.
My nephews didn't recognize me, and asked The Barren who the stranger was.
Heartbroken, but not surprised I complimented them
on their good "stranger danger" reactions to my greetings.
At the dinner table, my SIL offered me her 5year old again.

Thankfully, this time she did it in front of her mother
and her father in law
 and The Barren
and in earshot of her eldest son.

I didn't respond.

I was floating in a post yoga bliss and all negative bounced off my lovely
iridescent bubble, and floated far away from me and my heart.
I have built a new weapon to battle hurt.
Self love, care and preservation

Wide Open

So I am totally addicted.

The first class was tough, I was told by others who had taken the class that the best thing to do was really hydrate yourself before class.
SO I really took this to heart and the pre-hydration preparation had me peeing every 10minutes!

I must admit, that everytime I drank a glass of water, my mind took me to thinking that I was preparing for a pelvic ultrasound; but I am retraining my neural pathways, and telling them

"nope you are drinking water because you are about to sweat so much it is gonna feel like all the butter you have ever eaten will be running out of your pores"
 

The first class was HOT, 105degrees, we selected the "hot class" kind of by accident, the others are listed as hot too but this one takes the cake. One of the two ladies I signed up with picked me up from work and we were both making jokes the whole time,
until we hit the heated room and then it was game time!

We took it slow, we dripped sweat, she made me keep my eyes open, so she "knew I was alive"
There were maybe 10 of us in there, one man and the rest women in various levels of practice and aside from my getting dizzy,
I completed to the best of my ability, 22 of the 26 postures.

We fought with the reflections in the mirrors and are starting to understand there is no hiding from them. I even caught myself seeing myself...but I still prefer to position myself in just the right way, that I can not make out my whole body.
We felt quite happy when we were done and I felt like I had taken a bunch of speed,
after the internal blast furnace shut off.

Yesterday we all went to the level two class, this one is only 90degrees and was PACKED with beautiful people. The teacher spoke quickly to keep the pace up and I was drenched in 10minutes, and confused what pose I was suppose to do but I was able to stop when I got weak or dizzy and there was no judgement. I caught sight of my friends in their practice and we all were in our own minds and bodies. Each of us sporting a beet red face. I can say it is quite startling to see myself as I am PALE, PALE person and then I have a fuchsia face...it is something to behold.
The class moved fast and reminded me that I use to really enjoy this, I use to practice 4x a week right after The Barren and I got married. The lady next to me was recovering from an injury and she mentioned that very thought. " we always say how great we felt when doing yoga, or I was in such great shape...and then we walk away from it. Why?"

As we rounded out the class there was a chance to hold Tree Pose however you felt it should be.
Hands at heart, above your head, behind you, twisted....
Without thought, just by pure action I found my arms shoot straight out-
outreached at my sides, heart lifted and a smirk!
I was welcoming in this new action
I felt free
Free of guilt, sadness, sorrow, shame, pressure

I am wide open



Smell of ink

I've been a little MIA, sorry about that.

I have been dealing with panic attacks and reality checks

and striving to live in between it all.

 

 

I haven't had black tea in over a week, I have cut most of the things I need to from my diet.

I got a jump rope and did a little jogging the other day...

I don't run, I never have but always fantasied about it.

Sadly, my knees were made wrong for running and all it does is deteriorate my cartilage, I use to be a StairMaster maven, but when the crackling in my knees became too much the doc explained how my knees are built wrong for that much impact...so low impact to no impact is way better for the longevity of them. 

I convinced myself that if I was out walking why not try a little trotting, it was early morning and

no one would see me, as I was totally embarrassed that I would look like a total fool.

Just as I started to jog my next door neighbor turns the corner and sees me

trotting, huffing and I smile and jog past her.

I was mortified.

I have taken to just power walking again....

 

Then I got an email from a friend telling me of this great deal for yoga.

She was signing up and so was another friend...

so I fought all my interior voice that were screaming

" are you crazy!"

and signed up for a month of what turns out to be HOT yoga and "powercore" at that!

Ugh

Humility will step aside once again...

while this lovely pear goes to yoga with the beautiful beanpoles.

 

I am also working away like a busy little Barreness.

I am printing up what has turned out to be a small storm, the house smells of ink and baby oil.

I am making progress and that seems to be lulling the panic as I can see the progress,

although there is still a lot to do before the window dressing on the 18th.

I have two friends that are willing to help with whatever I need last minute help with...

thankful

so thankful

 

In the meantime I am happy

ironically

I am given more restrictions and more pressure and I am smiling.

go figure

 

Shifts and Alterations

      Mind you this is literally day one, but I am making plans!

I got my blood results back and aside from needing to take a multivitamin,
my cholesterol is acting all wackadoodle!

I have been a lacto-ovo vegetarian for 23years, often flirting with veganism...
I don't drink milk, but I really love goat cheese.

Normally this fat in the blood thing doesn't come into play...

but as I age I am finding that genetics might be factoring into things.
 

My father has to take meds for cholestrol, but he kind of uses it as a "this will fix my food choices" medication and his doctor really doesn't care. I love him, but he also considers fast food a realistic option for meals on a regular basis, and runs from most veggies.
For me, the only thing that has changed from last years results when I had a lower level,

is that I am back on BCP and I am drinking a lot of black tea.

 

green tea this morning

 

I did some research on the "dr googles" and found that the BCP can effect triglyceride levels.

I love scapegoating the pill, it is a double edged aide in my life.

 

My doctors have had me do this before; I have swapped out egg whites for whole eggs,

and stopped eating cheese (and just about went insane) and my level lowered a little
...but not significantly.

So this time I am attacking the results in a new way.

I am stopping my morning black cup of tea with 2teaspoons of sugar.

( I will allow myself a cup of almond milk chai 2x a week, I have to not punish myself)

 

I am also researching the anti-inflammatory diet for controlling/suppressing endo.
That also suggests moving to green and oolong teas
(there are now a MILLION tea shops so I am sure there will be a good replacement)
So this swap will be two-fold
and

I am also getting an indoor exercise thing, jump rope or something like it.

I figure I can attack stress this way too and do little workouts throughout the day instead of the daunting "chunk of time" that always seems to allude me with my upside down schedule.
(I get up at 5am for work commute for an hour to work, but home often takes longer and I am often home after 6pm....then dinner and email and bed by 10...on days without classes or business meetings after work)

I am pissed about this result...I have spent a good portion of my life controlling what I eat and to further reduce my options drives me nuts and feeds that destructive part of my brain that makes me think I am fat and lazy and unpretty because of a number.

So I am calling in my "I'm gonna handle this inner femme fatale"
and instead of being really angry, I am just gonna fight back.

Deep down, I fear the number will not really reduce that much,
but I want to at least feel like I am trying everything.
Sound familiar?!
 



A Glimpse

(source)

The Barren and I went to breakfast alone on Saturday morning.
We woke up early and drove to a new bakery, ordered a handmade pastry, and ate outside.
I had my feet up, barefoot on a chair, he and I were shaded under a big flowering tree.
We watched the traffic go by, people watched and commented.
A slow start to the day, with gentle wind and giggles.

A young family arrived as were wrapping up our meal, we watched them. Chasing the littlest one, closing the iron gate into the courtyard we were sitting in so the little one wouldn't dash out into traffic. Changing the set up of the seating area. We admired the kids, and the calm nature of the family but didn't seem to be saddened by this missed moment in our lives.
We were relishing the alone time we had, the freedom of movement we possessed.

We left, and went home, passing time before heading to a friend's party.
There was a half hour before the start time of the festivities and at that moment, as we heard the neighborhood children playing outside, screaming and running; we decided to make love.
Right in the middle of the day, with the door to our bedroom open.
It was passionate and spontaneous and we didn't have to plan around children.

It was a moment in time when I saw what was ahead for us.

We had freedom unlike the other people in our small community of neighbors.
We walked to the party afterwards, a little late, and enjoyed the rest of the day with friends.
There were children at the party, and their nearby parents.
People that are trying to become parents and people who don't want to be parents.
Throughout the party when The Barren found me he covered me in kisses,
when I came up to him I walked up and did the same.

It was almost like a dream, so smooth and calm and serene.
If that is my future with The Barren, then I can walk a little more confidently into it.

Sick and tired

Sorry for being MIA for a while there, I got my annual cootie and it has stuck around far far far longer then I had patience for.

Let me back track...

 

After the ultrasound I went to get a massage, because I was sooooooooooo freaked out and worked up over it. I haven't had a massage in over a year and just wanted a "relax all is really gonna be fine" kind of massage...

Well the massage woman pretty much bruised me and then rubbed my feet to make me fall asleep and then sent me on my way...

Clearly she wielded some hypnotic powers over me as I walked out of the spa, sliding in my sandals from all the oil on my skin and cruised right into the children's clothing store next door and bought two things for what will be a new niece or nephew at the end of August.

I was only hearing the sounds of chimes from the darkened massage room as I shopped next to the overly pregnant shoppers, still unaware of the cootie that had been released within.

A day later I had a funny crackle in my chest, and by that night a low fever and sore throat.

 

I usually give myself 48hours of "icky" time, I can only really deal with being that patient with a cold. Well, this one had other plans as after 48hrs, it got worse and had me in my doctors office asking her to drain my head and replace my throat. Sadly because I am allergic to all things holy in cough medicine I had to play "medicine cabinet petri dish" with over the counter cold medicine to find the right combination of things that would suppress the rib cracking cough.

I got no sleep for over four nights and then on Monday The Barren cracked the code:

1. when settling into sleep, sip water every 5 seconds for three minutes

2. take a cap full of DayQuil

3. after one hour had passed, take an expired benydrl and wait...

4. fall into a coma so deep the cough can not permeate it

5. avoid the alarm clock at 5am and snooze until 5:45 then

6. soak self in shower and start your day of work.

 

I am sleeping on my own now and playing catch up....

I ended up spending a week at home, moaning groaning and pacing

I was BEYOND bored and exhausted

When I sat still, I was freaking out over all the deadlines that were passing me, and how much more behind I would be. When I tried to work, it would lead to hours staring and when I typed something, it looked something like this:

"I am in this thing, it is big and interesting, you should see it"

I decided to spare you from those colorful descriptions and grand scenes.

 

I also now have a new appreciation of what the cats feel like, as thrilled as they were with their couch was here ALL the time, I know what it feels like to be an indoor cat.

Wake up change places of sitting,

watch birds on patio,

drink water,

sleep,

move to new sitting place,

sleep,

snack on something unpleasing,

sleep, move to new sitting space...repeat

 

My cell phone was filled with pictures of the cats,

as they were my constant companions

see:

when I was sitting up

When I was leaning back

I am a horrible patient and have no patience for colds.

Thankfully, this one has started moving out.

 

The Barren was sad to hear " the raspy 5pack a day cigarette " voice leave.

apparently that is his favorite part of my colds.

Me being a total stubborn person that doesn't want to do anything suggested for the first two days is his least favorite part.

 

I promise my next post will be better....

 

and the results say...

 

After dealing with a mountain of nerves in the anticipation and an exploding stomach
(from said nerves)

I went and got my (self advocated) 6.5 month ultrasound recheck post surgery.

I travel to another nearby town to check into a hospital and have the most rockstar tech, Ms. Fabulous, perform my test. She is a transplant to the country and use to be a high risk pregnancy nurse. She is crazy compassionate and I have been talking with her for so many years now, we have shared portions of our stories while she is "wanding" me. She is also a teaching tech, so she often has other women techs with her. Yesterday was no exception...well yesterday was exceptional. I don't care for the exam, I am sure no one does, but after about 20 of them they don't bother me. I do not like the preparation bladder expansion portion, as I need to drive half an hour to get to the hospital, so the drive is me hoping that I have consumed enough water to blow up my bladder but no so much that I piss myself when I arrive.

Ms. Fabulous, got me into the room and introduced me to the tech, asked why I was there-you know the general stuff and when I told her about the surgery and I had two really bad cycles that scared me; I was self advocating and getting this exam to make sure nothing new was filling the space.

The tech looked at me and told me she had a cyst that took her ovary at 20, and that they did a c-section size surgery to remove the ovary. She was now past menopause and was glad to be done with the pain of endo. She told me she felt for me. (that was nice)

As Ms. Fabulous started the exam, we laughed chatted and she said she could see my "guys" which is what we call the fibroids (Ms Fabulous says cysts and fibroids are boys) then my uterus came on screen and I said "there is my girl!" She smiled and she typed uterus on the screen...the student asked if I had children...I said no, that is what my last 8 years was a quest for...but it didn't happen.

She was quiet. Then Ms Fabulous told me her mother called telling her that her daughter could not possibly be happy without children (Ms Fabulous doesn't have kids) we commiserated that parents often don't get it. I told her that my MIL told me she was disappointed we didn't adopt and that it was easy. The student piped in and said " UM no it is not, I adopted and it was one of the hardest longest things I did" I told her I told my MIL we couldn't bear another heartbreak.

We had formed a solidarity in that darkened room, with a wand up my vagina admiring my uterus that I have fought so hard to keep.

The very early unofficial reports are in, well according to my AMAZING ultrasound tech, she confirmed that my left ovary still has no additional growths.

She had a hard time finding my right ovary because

the endo has pulled it pretty far behind my uterus but she did.

She told me I had "small birth controlled ovaries", she said that she had to triple check as she has become so familiar with my endometrioma that she couldn't believe she was looking at my reproductive system.
I thanked her as always for sharing what she saw, that I never hold her to her word, as I know she is not suppose to say a thing...but I am so glad she does, because a weekend of worry is not healthy and she agrees. I left feeling strangely normal and unconcerned.
I had booked a massage to follow the ultrasound, as I knew I would be pretty worked up about it.
The masseuse, was OK, I am bruised today, which doesn't feel very relaxing...but I can float over that, as I am holding onto the potential good news for now.
The nurse from my doctors office should call with the results Monday or so and
say her famous first words to me:
"Hi honey it is me, well you have fibroids but you know that already...."
 

Hiding

I seem to be hiding, well not obviously hiding but, symbolically speaking.

I have spent way too much time with a project that should have taken a week to complete but instead we are looking at over a month now...and I am putting myself up against a wall to the deadline.

It is like I am finding distractions or something.

Remember how I told you I had signed up for a figure drawing class. Well I pretty much have found an excuse to skip it almost every week since I first signed up. Too tired, uninspired...not wanting to go. I can figure a myriad of reasons not to go, and

we are talking about a class that is for MY PLEASURE.

Well I dragged my ass back to class this week, it probably helped that the instructor decided that the punch card had an expiration date and my penny wise self decided that $50 for a single class was too much, so I better go and get my monies worth.

I was the first one there, and then I was in the car ready to talk myself out of staying,
waiting to see if anyone else was going to arrive, and then they did.
So I went in, got a spot and cleared my mind...
I was going to draw, it was good for me...
it will clear this desire to procrastinate...
buying dresses online instead of work on art pieces isn't gonna swing anymore
and this will help me reintroduce myself to my inner workings.

The model arrived, she was young and appeared to be a dancer maybe...
she had long legs and arms and was stretching a lot.
The classroom filled with people and drawing boards.
She remained clothed and once the posing started it was obvious this was one of her first gigs.
She stood, bent and then sat.
She was not dynamic, not inspired, not practiced at posing.
She wasn't able to hold still for even the 1 minute warm ups
and
I think she had a crush on one of the male artists in class,
as her eyes (then head) kept turning towards him.
I was less then inspired and starting fighting with the "flee, run from here and hide" voice in my head.

When it was time for her first "long pose", 20minutes, she proceeded to curl into a fetal ball on top of the table and fight falling asleep.
She hid all her lines, and shifted multiple times.
She was hiding from the artists gaze; it was clear to me that she wanted to disappear.
*
I ended up doing blind contour drawings for the rest of the time.
(blind contour is an exercise in looking. You only look at the subject and keep your pencil on the paper and draw what you see, never looking at what you are drawing until you are done.
note image above)
I drew multiple pieces and then started to simply write what I was seeing,
I was loosing my fight with the "run and hides"
The class had started with the teachers ipod playing the whole first side of Strange Days it was mixed with the sounds from the next door studio; which was playing rehearsal music for the troop of ballet dancers, classical piano pieces. When the instructor realized the slurry of sounds, we had heard it for half an hour. She turned off her music and it was strangely quiet, but for the looped classical music now and then.
I made it an hour...I told the teacher I got a text and needed to leave.
this is what I wrote when I was not drawing:

The dog entered the room and serpentine through the easels
eager to greet every artist in the room.
The room was quiet but for the sounds coal, ink and brush on paper,
or erasers pulling coal from paper.
I can hear the almost muted sounds from a nearby set of headphones.
The sounds of ballet instruction bleeds through the walls-
the thumps of dancers landing on floors is synchronized.  
The model, despondent, laid on a piece of foam, on a counter, on top of cabinets
illuminated by three stainless floodlights.

I felt it was best I leave, as I was fearful I would start to grimace or simply stare at the wall or her the rest of the time. That would be creepy and weird, I couldn't be those things.
 So I went home and spent the night wrestling with my choices.
The ones I was struggling with for the timeline,
the media that was mocking me,
the desires I wanted to recapture.
I might be hiding, I admit it.
Is it bad that I am hoping this respite turns out to be a metamorphosis?
 is that to much to ask of myself, of my destiny?
If I am the master of my destiny, can I not want that?
Or is wanting a bad thing?
I am new at shaping my life, I normally didn't put much thought into it...now it seems that if I don't pay attention it will be shaped for me in my absence.
That is a big deal
How do you run towards something?
When you are fearful that it might make you feel exposed?



Stronger?

So in my current struggle with trying to sort things out in my head,

I keep reading my positive affirmations

and there is one that I am currently choking on:

 Infertility made me/us stronger

 

 

I understand that The Barreness wants me to be bitter, and mean and spiteful and vengeful

and as I struggle to not be any of those things, I wonder about the above concept.

Am I really stronger because of it?

Is our relationship really better off, more steady, or more solid?

I read almost daily about couples struggling with IF and how they have parted ways.

The stress, the heartbreak was simply too much to bear.

Does that mean that those couples are failures because they chose to part ways when things got so deep, so thick and so much that they were wedged apart and not able to come back together anymore?

I don't think so.

 

I had a similar conversation with my therapist, when I told her

I didn't believe the phrases:

"whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger"

or

" you are never given more than you can carry"

 

She said she could understand; as there are a lot of shells of people walking this earth.

Although you are not killed by overwhelming circumstances it doesn't mean you are ever really alright after that. Sometimes just functional.

Is that really OK?!

 

Infertility, has been like a cluster bomb; so many projectiles flying from it's central source.

Sometimes I don't discover how far reaching the pieces have flown until years later when I pick a scrap up to remember oh yeah, that is from that bomb.

 

Just this last week I asked my SIL if she was wanting to have a shower for this third child,

and she mentioned that a friend was going to give it for her.

I was hoping for that and was relieved it would not fall on me

I have been looking at baby gifts for her.

It hasn't hurt, it is like a dull more then a pain.

It seems strange, and distant to me...it has been 5years since there was a baby to think about.

My nephews start kindergarten this fall...

So a little someone is an alien concept, but one I am almost looking forward to.

A cathartic element in a way.

A way to literally kiss goodbye all my daydreams, every time I kiss this new person.

 

Does that make me stronger?

Less bitter?

Better? because I am living with a life long sentence of infertility.

I want to try and break free of this quicksand.

I think of it more like a fight or flight kind of thing.

The fight is all gone, there is no point to fight any more....

 

I think what has been handed to us,

well more like, shoved into our faces and lives,

is too much.

 

I can't really remember my life before all this sadness,

I have to look at photos of myself to try and prompt those memories. 

 

I can't see commericals, movies or television with children in them,

 without thinking of the ones we will never have

 

I can't go to any doctor without thinking that something horrible is going to be discovered,

even the dentist

 

I can't go to a park, zoo, store, or even out my front door without

feeling like I am being assaulted with everyone elses fertility.

 

It is nearly impossible to be in conversations with family or friends about children, because I really don't understand their point. I can only imagine what it is like, and then not well at that.

 

Does this make me stronger?

Does this mean I was handed just what I could handle or carry?

 

I am still trying to figure this all out.

Strangely I am not angry or really sad...

I am just sort of here

staring at the sky

 

 

Wordless Wednesday

I love me some good funk, and this is one of the videos wandering around the Internets of

"how to dance to the new Daft Punk album" made my day and made me remember
dancing with the Soul Train dancers Saturday mornings.
Get that booty moving:

Friday

Life has been crazy serious lately in my head, and I just wanted to show you how

 "all over the board I am"
(I ramble in this post, I hope you can keep up)
 

I went out wandering...in a fruitless effort to find a couple summer dresses,

as my current ones are thread bare and several years old....

I have been drooling over some Modcloth dresses, but when I looked at the price, and style

I realized I was picking the same style over and over so

I ended up getting a pattern from Vogue,

that claims to be "easy"
 it has a zipper

I consider that tough, turn blue in the face,cursing level of sewing,

but whatever, maybe my brain will understand the instructions better this time,

or I'll resort to Velcro or staple myself into it out of complete frustration in the end.
 

I have a ton of fabric from my now defunct "children's clothing line"
and thank goodness I was so neurotic, as I collected some seriously cool stuff,
I have all this fabric left over and not enough hours in the day to list them on Etsy,
so I might as well make myself a dress or a skirt or something that resembles those items of clothing.

I am trying to get my funky back.
and a few hours in the day to make a dress....

 

So back to the meaning of this post, I was distracted by sparkle at the local retailer, and had to try on the shoes my mother NEVER let me wear, claiming they would ruin my arches.

Even for "dress up"!
I also think this was her silent feminist response to playing dress up....

So imagine my surprise when she told me I could wear heeled shoes at prom.
 2.5 inches off the ground and I was wobbling around the house like a frigging baby horse
 trying to not break an ankle or as my father referred to it "walk like a truck driver".
 

To this day, I am either barefoot or in sneakers;
anything higher then that is for my mere amusement,

or to feed my inner daredevil/risk taker.
I almost never return home from a heeled evening saying anything

but how much my feet hurt or how I have a blister from the shoes
or how I totally messed up my ankle.
I mostly try, in a vain effort over and over again to be the graceful dancer,
model woman who can walk in shoes higher then the cement.
I have even asked women in stilettos the secret to walking forwards and backwards in the shoes.
They usually just say practice at home....and something about the balls of my feet.
I lost interest after that, because it sounded complex and not like walking.
 

SOOOOO, everytime I see fancy footwear in the store,

I try them on, it is like a grown up rebellion, my version of a repressed dress-up,

you can clearly see my sandals in the pics and my slipping foot inside each shoe.

I did some impressive yoga moves to get this vantage point

 

So here is what they had on sale for $4 each on the super bargain discount shelf:

soooooooooo much glitter and sequins
I was tempted to get them just to source the sequins and glitter off of them!

this one had chicken feathers and a brooch on the toe!
ohh la la
 

Sparkle rhinestones,
all around, and the toes didn't even touch the ground

A little Lady Gaga meets Elton John circa 1972
Gold glitter with spikes around the heel
I like how blingy it is in this picture

 

When all was said and done I left the shoes at the store.
My mother was right, they hurt and made my feet feel funny.
*sigh* 

Fork in the road

image via etsy

 

I am finding that I am slowly remembering a long list of things that will never be.

Like I am in a way saying another goodbye to them.

I am working hard at not being bitter as that is one of my fears.

to create a bitter leftover version of myself

 

I think this latest cycle has been a reminder that I will not carry a child.

Like all the words and years are rushing up on me.

My period use to be a couple days: no biggie, no major shift in my life.

Then I tried to get pregnant and they became these HUGE productions; painful and pointed.

Then 6months ago the surgery, and now they are strange performance art pieces; I never really know what is going on, and what to expect next.

I am still bleeding, even though I have been back on the pill for three days.

I am really along for the ride.

When I was expressing this disappointment to The Barren the the other night,

 telling him I was done bleeding, I wanted to get on with my next 90days,

I had a wave of sympathy for my uterus.

Maybe it is not done doing it's thing, I mean clearly it is...but maybe it is mourning too?!

I said aloud to him, " I know one day sooner then I want it, I will not be bleeding anymore and then I will be sad about that too"

He giggled and said he understood what I meant.

 

I am realizing that I am turning the corner and beyond child-making.

It really isn't gonna magically happen.

 

This made me reflect on all the "positive affirmations" that I have been repeating year after year.

What happens emotionally when you are not gonna get what you wanted.

Not like a toy, or jewelery or cars or houses, or jobs....but a vision of family.

I wonder what those

 feel good, be nice to yourself, believe in miracles, expect the impossibles?

I still collect them, I read them, I try really hard to believe them, wanting to live the words.

I try to not be cynical when I read about others starting their IF journey, knowing that my story doesn't have to be everyones outcome.

What do I do now? How do I start re-building my self identity I mean time is ticking away.

Life is short and have I already spent too much of it hoping against hope?

Waiting and crying and wondering what I could do to make something that would never be happen.

 

My SIL is 6months pregnant with their third child, and as she posts belly growing pics online, and fetus updates, and updates us all on her cravings and aches and pains...

I wonder what does it feel like?

Something so natural, became so unnatural for us...the hippie kids couldn't make a baby?

The teenager could, the IV drug user could, the fighting couple could.

 

I feel that strange sense of numb again, the numb I felt (or didn't feel) when I was slipping into depression, but I am not terribly sad this time. I am not terribly happy either.

I am present, here and now.

Wondering

seeking a new path

a new identity

Not wanting to re-invent myself...but wondering who I really am.

Help Others

image via etsy

 

Below is a list of places you can donate help to others:

 

Central Oklahoma Humane SocietyThe Central Oklahoma Humane Society is in need of towels, paper towels, bleach, gloves and crates to help with lost and injured animals. "Currently our greatest need is financial donations to help us treat and house lost and injured animals at our facilities,"

 

OK Strong Disaster Relief Fund

to help with the long-term medical, emotional and educational needs of victims of the May 20 tornado in Moore and the May 19 tornado near Shawnee: http://www.ok.gov/okstrong/Donation_Information/index.html

 

Direct Relief The Santa Barbara, Calif.-based, non-profit organization provides medical assistance and personal hygiene items to those hurt in disasters, as well as in other circumstances.

 

American Red CrossThe Red Cross has set up shelters in various communities. You can donate to the Red Cross Disaster Relief fund here, and the organization also suggests giving blood at your local hospital or blood bank.

 

Regional Food Bank of OklahomaThe Regional Food Bank of Oklahoma, working with the Oklahoma Voluntary Organizations Active in Disaster, is seeking monetary donations. To donate, visit the regional food bank's website, or give $10 by texting the word FOOD to 32333. 

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

 

Ostrich

 

I hid this last weekend...

well, I didn't plan to, but hiding under the remote control and a bowl of hummus

ended up feeling like the safest place to be.

 

Let me explain.

I attended my goddaughters first communion, I got a new dress and The Barren and I met her at the church with her parents and family. We had taken godparent classes at this same church 9years ago so we "as non-catholics" could learn the important role we were undertaking.

We take pride in being her back up team...

though we never really were called to service, well so far at least.

I took some photos of our girl, who was mortified at all the attention and parceled out who could take photos with her, and fought the waterfall of tears that were welling in her eyes from people looking at her. She was clearly stressed, but did really well under the circumstances.

Her mom and dad were respectful of her feelings and space and nothing was forced on her.

She went through the paces of the service, even told her older tween sister to "be less grumpy, because I wasn't grumpy on your first communion day". We were proud and watched her and the parade of squirming and fidgety kids line up and take the wafers.

Then when mass was over, but before we all left, the pastor asked all the mothers to rise...

I have read about this situation in many other blogs and I guess because I was in church for a totally different reason I was totally taken off guard.

When they called for all the mothers to rise, it was like a fortress suddenly popped up all around me.

Like these bodies all suddenly formed deep thick walls; I was shaken, physically and began to fight back a swell of tears, I felt so ostracized.

 

 

The Barren noticing this started to touch my back and the tears fell in two streams down my face, I was angry and so hurt. The pastor was blessing these woman, telling them how important they were and how they were special and had magical powers and could fly and make milk and shit rainbows.

I stopped hearing stuff, and instead tried to hide my tears, and curse my suddenly swelling eyelids.

Then I leaned over to The Barren and told him I was leaving out the back door, there were less people in that direction and I wanted to run...fast and far.

Once outside I wanted to tackle the pastor and priests and tell them how they made me feel, and how they had excluded a non-catholic even further! I thought about the "open letter to the pastors" I had read online and wanted to give them a piece of my mind....but on reflection decided this day was not about me, it was about our goddaughter

and I needed to save these tears for a safe place,

this place was not safe.

 

I proceeded to tell The Barren to treat me like I just had an epileptic seizure and

regain normalcy post hast, that it would help me.

We met the others out front and no one was the wiser to my knowledge.

The like magic, our goddaughter walked up to us to thank us for coming and said she would like to take a picture with us, queue internal tears.

We took a photo and moved onto lunch

I had not stepped three paces into the place when our goddaughters Aunt turned to me and said:

" when you posted that thing on facebook about infertility,

I have a friend that says he has a cure for fertility."

I said: "everyone does"

and walked away into the dining room.

I was cooked; I had a drink at lunch, ate greasy noodles and then went home

and hid through Monday morning.

 

No calls on Sunday, no check-ins to friends...just me, the cats and the TV

I look forward to a day when it hurts less or just doesn't appear to be so obvious.

How I sometimes am envious of that ostrich, it can run so fast!

 

B-day hangover

I had a very quiet birthday.

The Barren took me out with the intention of us drinking,
relaxing and hopefully starting a weekend of laughter.
I made reservations for us at a local place that actually makes drinks with alcohol in them,
and the food is alright...
We ended up talking about our infertility most of the night...
he is finding himself in a strange place,
wanting to move on but the constant questions from others makes it hard to.
The drinks allowed us to laugh about lots of things, instead of cry.
 

By my third drink I was pretending to be on a first date with him.

He found this very funny, I thought in my drink induced haze I was being sneaky.

...then I suggested we go for a walk; that idea ended after the fourth step outside

when I realized how heavy my head was,
and the act of balancing it took too much effort
 in combination with walking.

He suggested we drive home,
The Barren took an alternative route and I think he was headed to the beach for a

make-out session with his "date"...but

I had closed my eyes and when I opened them I thought I was being kidnapped

and although I made him laugh, it was clear I was panicked.
Make out session nixed
Instead...

We arrived home to me literally crawling upstairs and falling on the floor,
laughing hysterically at the cats "sitting there judging me"
and collapsing into bed.

2am woke me by slamming a hammer against my skull and

Saturday was a greasy food hangover recovery day.

so, for some a typical birthday,
for me bittersweet,
as I think I was trying to make it all normal.

hangover food: vegetarian version
grilled cheese-raw onions-french fries

 

***

My cake eating party went OK,
a friend received a call just as we were cutting the cake,
that something happened to her fiance who was returning from a weekend trip
and the mood dropped and we dispersed.
Leaving a lot of cake and a gallon of homemade ice cream in the freezer.
(fiance OK, but a member of his adventure passed away)
 

My dear friends planned a "do-over"

I was embarrassed at them wanting to make a fuss, but also deeply touched.
We had sangria and dinner and then I got a gift on top of all that.
It was lovely.

I made these two options for sugar overload, plus cookies...
it was insane of me

My birthdays seem to be evolving into a smaller, quieter gatherings.
I use to have HUGE parties and some little part of me still craves that,
but I am coming to understand as we age it doesn't always work out that way anymore.
I think I am OK with this evolution.

I think I carried a lot of last years memories with me into this birthday.
Reflecting on my mother and father and how radically my relationship has shifted with them.
It was hard to not think of, it was hard to not remember, it was hard to let go of.
My mother and father are "fine", and I struggle daily with not parenting them for two reasons:
1. they are not ready/needing parenting yet
2. I am not ready to be my parents parent.
I have to remember this, well mostly number 1, because I know when the time comes number 2 is something I will never be ready for.

I feel a personal evolution within again too:
I am becoming older, and possibly wiser.
Problem is, I don't want to grow up anymore...

Dream

photo via: animalheadvintage

I had a dream last night that I went to the Doctor for my 6month

after surgery check up and they did an ultrasound

and found I had two babies growing in the wrong space...

one was growing in my tube and the other in my ovary.

I had to have emergency surgery and have them taken.

I was heartbroken and worried, wondering if there was any way to save them.

 

I was searching for the Barren and couldn't find him....

I had my mother with me and I was frightened

that she would not hear what the doctor found

...or that she would keep information from me.

Even after waking I was still frightened

 

That dream was followed by another the following night

that I was searching

for The Barren again; the night sky was filled with bi-planes

 they appeared like larger then life fireflies.

As I was searching I entered a building that was built like the Guggenheim (a spiral)

it was a mall or someplace like it in dream logic

I was entering and exiting the maze of spaces

until I reached an open atrium space

where a baby giraffe was, running in circles in the small space, the keeper

laughing at its fear and panic.

I tried to calm the baby, shh-ing and cooing...but before I could

it collapsed, eyes wide open...stiff and strait as a pole.

 

I am not sure what these dreams mean, or why I felt compelled to write about them...

I know they are full of dream symbols:

1. To dream that a giraffe is running implies that you are avoiding the truth. It also suggests that you saw something that you shouldn't have seen. To see a giraffe in your dream suggests that you need to consider the overall picture. Take a broader view on your life and where it is headed. The dream may also be a metaphor on how you are "sticking your neck out" for someone.
 
2. To see an airplane in your dream indicates that you will overcome your obstacles and rise to a new level of prominence and status. You may experience a higher consciousness, new-found freedom and greater awareness. Perhaps you need to gain a better perspective or wider view on something. If the airplane is taking off, then it suggests that an idea or plan is about to "take off" and be put into action. It may also represent your need to get away and escape from your daily life.
   
    
3. To dream that you are a doctor suggests that there is some problem that you need to patch up or some emotional wound that you need to bandage up. Alternatively, it signifies your ability to offer your support to others.

Ironically, two new giraffes were born at the local zoo...

"April 30, 2013: Congratulations, Betty Lou!

    Betty Lou gave birth April 28 to a healthy calf named Sunshine. She is being an attentive mom, and letting the calf nurse. Sunshine is 6' and 133 lbs. Zookeepers have begun introductions to the rest of the herd, and mother-calf pairs will most likely rotate on and off exhibit. Michael, father to both calves, will remain on exhibit most of the time."