Half the goal is just blogging weekly, which I am doing now. The other half, the part about having something worthwhile to blog about, that's a bunch of crap.
R left on Thursday. Last night was my first night alone, because I spent the weekend at my parents' house with Little H. Yesterday also happened to be the day AF and her sidekick Endo decided to attack. AF prodded Endo to flaunt it's full power and cause major back pain. My body responded the way it usually does to Endo and tried to rid itself of the evil by vomiting. My body does not understand the logic of "Endo is not in my stomach, it is mauling my abdomen from outside the organs." And Endo has not gotten the memo about "BC is supposed to stop the symptoms." Usually Endo is lazy and just causes minor back pain, but this month it has decided to kick into full throttle. I am not happy. And now I'm tired and my belly hurts from wretching all night. Hopefully it was just a one-time thing, because I really don't want another lap anytime soon. The holidays are coming, it's just not a good time for that.
The good news- throwing up made me forget that I was missing R. Usually I can't sleep and am up till 5 am every time he's gone, even for weekend drill. I'm trying desperately to be better this month and thrive while he's gone, not just survive. Tiffany and Argos will take turns sharing my bed. I feel safer and more comfortable when the other side of the bed is not empty. Although I do prefer sleeping with Tiffany over Argos, she doesn't hog the bed. And Argos usually sleeps in the laundry room, guarding the door. I like that idea. He may not actually guard anything, but knowing that anybody trying to break into my house would see a German Shepherd first thing makes me feel better. I still wish I had an unemployed friend or two to stay up here with me, but I made it through the first night OK.
R left the house after I did this weekend (we both went downstate on Wednesday), and he left me a little surprise. Everwhere I looked when I got back were little notes. Most just said "I love you," but there was also "you're perfect," "hello, beautiful," and "hugs and kisses." I was OK with him being gone till I saw those, then I realized that I miss him so much. I did so well when he left, no tears, but seeing those love notes made me break down. So much for being that "perfect military wife" that lets her hubby do his job and leave whenever he has to, showing him how strong she can be and not bawling her eyes out over minor training or field work. At least I'm still a "good military wife" not begging him to stay home or trying to prohibit him from going away. It's harder than I thought. We've been through a big deployment, I thought one little month at school would be easy.
Oh, and I got more work done on my tattoo. Not sure when I'll get pics up (because it's really awkward to hold the camera and try to take a picture of your own leg), but it's awesome. Now the vine goes from my ankle all the way to my butt. Not a smart place to tattoo, btw. The lower ass cusp is quite sensitive, especially near the dimple region. But, it had to go over my butt somewhere to continue to my back. And this sitting accomplished more than the first two combined, my whole thigh and starting on my butt. The first two were calf, then knee. I am so proud of myself for sitting through that much. I really wanted to wimp out 3/4 of the way through my thigh, but I hung in there and did everything we had stenciled. Yeah, I whined the whole fricken time, but I did it. I can't wait to get the outline finished so we can start coloring it in. I love just the outline, but Uncle Tattooist really wants to color it and won't settle for anything less than shading, so I'm all in. Fuck, it's going to hurt. But, it looks amazing, so a little pain is worth it. I'm even "modifying" my halloween costume to show it off. I'm going as a fairy and had this awesome lavender sparkly dress that I'm ripping a seam out of to show my whole leg. The dress looks better that way anyway. And I'm never going to wear it anywhere else, so it's not like I'm ruining anything. Now to sew the edges and figure out how to make wings...
Yep, nothing interesting to blog about. At least I tried.
23 October 2007
17 October 2007
Trying to keep up
I've set a new goal for my blog: actually posting once a week. Doesn't seem like a big goal, but I've never actually made a specific plan for how often I should post, so it's big to me. And having that in the back of my mind is going to keep me constantly thinking about blogging, make me more aware of my everyday life and the things that are blogworthy.
But, this is a really new goal, so I haven't come up with anything so far. Recently an "internet friend" of mine has decided to get a puppy. This has been a long time coming, for the past couple years she has been dealing with a car accident that caused injuries resulting in the removal of part of a lung. At that time, they also found lung cancer, so she's been enduring chemo. She can finally walk again, and she's feeling strong and healthy. So she's getting a puppy, from a wonderful breeder, with great lineage. I can't imagine how great she must feel if she's ready for a puppy. I am so proud of her, for making it through everything (she had several battles with pneumonia this spring, spending days to weeks in the hospital each time) and for the amazing person she has been. She is one of the strongest people I have ever "known." I know she'll never read this, but: Fiona (you know I'm talking to you), you are incredible. I know you hear it all the time, but that's because it's true. Your new little girl is the luckiest puppy in the entire world. I love you.
Other news: as of tomorrow, I'm alone for a month. R is going away for training. I don't do living alone, even with two big dogs to protect me. I guess it's good practice for if R ever gets deployed again (I write "if," but in my head I know the truth, I know the reality is "when"), but I don't want to practice being alone. I would just lock up the house and stay with my parents the whole time, but I have jury duty till the end of the month, so I have to be here. Anybody want to sleep over for a few weeks? My dogs are great cuddlers, I'll even let you pick which one to sleep with (because sharing any size bed with both is impossible). My mom is probably coming up for a while, and I have a few other friends that offered me their weekends, so I'm sure I'll be fine. And between the dogs and a couple loaded clips for the gun, I think am well protected. The dogs don't do much protecting, but they do freak out at tiny sounds, so I'll be very alert.
Birds have been attacking my house the past couple weeks. Apparently the frame around the window is the perfect ledge for standing on while they beat seeds against the side of the house to open them. Took 9 days to figure out the exact details, that's a lot of crazy dog moments.
I really hope the next few days give me something profound and thoughtful to blog about. Hell, I'd be happy with something even remotely interesting (because I'm sure nobody really cares about the birds using my house as a nutcracker). Maybe this new goal is impossible? I really need to learn to be more creative.
But, this is a really new goal, so I haven't come up with anything so far. Recently an "internet friend" of mine has decided to get a puppy. This has been a long time coming, for the past couple years she has been dealing with a car accident that caused injuries resulting in the removal of part of a lung. At that time, they also found lung cancer, so she's been enduring chemo. She can finally walk again, and she's feeling strong and healthy. So she's getting a puppy, from a wonderful breeder, with great lineage. I can't imagine how great she must feel if she's ready for a puppy. I am so proud of her, for making it through everything (she had several battles with pneumonia this spring, spending days to weeks in the hospital each time) and for the amazing person she has been. She is one of the strongest people I have ever "known." I know she'll never read this, but: Fiona (you know I'm talking to you), you are incredible. I know you hear it all the time, but that's because it's true. Your new little girl is the luckiest puppy in the entire world. I love you.
Other news: as of tomorrow, I'm alone for a month. R is going away for training. I don't do living alone, even with two big dogs to protect me. I guess it's good practice for if R ever gets deployed again (I write "if," but in my head I know the truth, I know the reality is "when"), but I don't want to practice being alone. I would just lock up the house and stay with my parents the whole time, but I have jury duty till the end of the month, so I have to be here. Anybody want to sleep over for a few weeks? My dogs are great cuddlers, I'll even let you pick which one to sleep with (because sharing any size bed with both is impossible). My mom is probably coming up for a while, and I have a few other friends that offered me their weekends, so I'm sure I'll be fine. And between the dogs and a couple loaded clips for the gun, I think am well protected. The dogs don't do much protecting, but they do freak out at tiny sounds, so I'll be very alert.
Birds have been attacking my house the past couple weeks. Apparently the frame around the window is the perfect ledge for standing on while they beat seeds against the side of the house to open them. Took 9 days to figure out the exact details, that's a lot of crazy dog moments.
I really hope the next few days give me something profound and thoughtful to blog about. Hell, I'd be happy with something even remotely interesting (because I'm sure nobody really cares about the birds using my house as a nutcracker). Maybe this new goal is impossible? I really need to learn to be more creative.
09 October 2007
Anonymous said I have to... (children mentioned)
Actually, just a couple days after my last post I did snap out of it. A friend of mine just got engaged to a soldier, less than a week before he left for 2 1/2 months of training. R and I stayed with her that weekend, her first alone in quite a while. Having somebody else to take care of was just what I needed to get back to "normal." That same weekend, my parents installed new floors (by that, I mean R did 75% of the work and my brother cut everything that needed to be cut, while my parents thankfully disappeared to watch my other brother play rugby) and I got suckered into making stovetop baked apples for dessert. And the busyness hasn't stopped ever since.
My favorite tattoo shop is being remodeled, I spent 2 days there last week (I painted boards and fetched the level), then we had Little H for the weekend. It was great. He loves spending Thursday night with my parents and me (because that's when R's parenting time starts, but R has work on Friday and Little H has school, so I pick him up and we stay with my parents for a night and I take him to school in the morning), and can't wait to get up here on Fridays. Not sure how much of it is being with R and how much is playing with Shamu next door, but excited is excited, so I'll take it. Little H went with Shamu and his parents to see the train on Saturday. Something about it being the "insipiration" for Po.lar E.xpre.ss. They got him a wooden train whistle and the photographer for the local paper took their picture. Yay, my little boy is gonna be in the paper. Shamu's mom gave him the wrong spelling of our last name (um, lady, the kid knows how to spell his name, ask him if you don't know, silly), but who cares, he's gonna be in the paper. We usually read the paper online, but I guess we'll have to buy it this week.
The new dog is still doing great, I can't imagine life without him. I don't know where his original family is or why they haven't looked for him, but it's been long enough that we've decided they can't have him back even if they do show up (unless there is a child crying and Argos obviously loves them). We still have a lot of work to do, he's a little too eager to play with cats. It doesn't help that the first cats he was really around when we got him were nursing mothers that still freak out as soon as they see him (I'm talking balls of fur trying to kill him through the sliding glass door). He thinks it's the funnest game ever and nearly breaks down the door trying to play back. It could be a long process.
I have the rough design drawn up for my new desk, which I'll be emailing to my brother down at U of M to have a real engineering student perfect. What I have is good enough to build from, but I'm building with my grandfather and he'd try to "help" me "fix" it. I don't want help or fixing, so the best quality blueprint I can get is totally worth owing somebody a small favor. How difficult can building one desk be? Well, it's going in a corner, with 3 workstations (one desktop and 2 laptops), a bookshelf on the end towards the living room, some sort of shelving above, and a cut-out area where the desktop goes for convenience. One side will be nearly 7 feet long, and the other just over 5 feet. This is going to be the biggest computer desk ever built, and it's going in my 980sqft house. A massive undertaking, with the potential to overwhelm the entire house, but R and I are so excited. The excitement will probably wane for quite a while, since I will require the array of tools in my grandfather's garage and he's leaving Dec 1 for the winter in Florida (my grandparents fit so well into the stereotype of Michigan retired folk), but once the snow is gone again and we actually get to work on it, it's gonna be great.
Still no decisions made on the TTC front. But I've been back here for 2 months and I don't want to leave, so there is progress. And we planned to wait until 2008 anyway. We should have the truck and motorcycle paid off by next summer, some cash stowed away for treatments, and all the home-improvement ideas out of my head and into the house, so I'm thinking lap sometime in the fall and whatever treatments starting by the holiday season (is that a stupid plan? monitoring and treatments and massive dinners and all that shopping all thrown together? please give me your opinions. we're taking our time starting back up, so if it's smarter to wait until spring I have no problem with that)
My favorite tattoo shop is being remodeled, I spent 2 days there last week (I painted boards and fetched the level), then we had Little H for the weekend. It was great. He loves spending Thursday night with my parents and me (because that's when R's parenting time starts, but R has work on Friday and Little H has school, so I pick him up and we stay with my parents for a night and I take him to school in the morning), and can't wait to get up here on Fridays. Not sure how much of it is being with R and how much is playing with Shamu next door, but excited is excited, so I'll take it. Little H went with Shamu and his parents to see the train on Saturday. Something about it being the "insipiration" for Po.lar E.xpre.ss. They got him a wooden train whistle and the photographer for the local paper took their picture. Yay, my little boy is gonna be in the paper. Shamu's mom gave him the wrong spelling of our last name (um, lady, the kid knows how to spell his name, ask him if you don't know, silly), but who cares, he's gonna be in the paper. We usually read the paper online, but I guess we'll have to buy it this week.
The new dog is still doing great, I can't imagine life without him. I don't know where his original family is or why they haven't looked for him, but it's been long enough that we've decided they can't have him back even if they do show up (unless there is a child crying and Argos obviously loves them). We still have a lot of work to do, he's a little too eager to play with cats. It doesn't help that the first cats he was really around when we got him were nursing mothers that still freak out as soon as they see him (I'm talking balls of fur trying to kill him through the sliding glass door). He thinks it's the funnest game ever and nearly breaks down the door trying to play back. It could be a long process.
I have the rough design drawn up for my new desk, which I'll be emailing to my brother down at U of M to have a real engineering student perfect. What I have is good enough to build from, but I'm building with my grandfather and he'd try to "help" me "fix" it. I don't want help or fixing, so the best quality blueprint I can get is totally worth owing somebody a small favor. How difficult can building one desk be? Well, it's going in a corner, with 3 workstations (one desktop and 2 laptops), a bookshelf on the end towards the living room, some sort of shelving above, and a cut-out area where the desktop goes for convenience. One side will be nearly 7 feet long, and the other just over 5 feet. This is going to be the biggest computer desk ever built, and it's going in my 980sqft house. A massive undertaking, with the potential to overwhelm the entire house, but R and I are so excited. The excitement will probably wane for quite a while, since I will require the array of tools in my grandfather's garage and he's leaving Dec 1 for the winter in Florida (my grandparents fit so well into the stereotype of Michigan retired folk), but once the snow is gone again and we actually get to work on it, it's gonna be great.
Still no decisions made on the TTC front. But I've been back here for 2 months and I don't want to leave, so there is progress. And we planned to wait until 2008 anyway. We should have the truck and motorcycle paid off by next summer, some cash stowed away for treatments, and all the home-improvement ideas out of my head and into the house, so I'm thinking lap sometime in the fall and whatever treatments starting by the holiday season (is that a stupid plan? monitoring and treatments and massive dinners and all that shopping all thrown together? please give me your opinions. we're taking our time starting back up, so if it's smarter to wait until spring I have no problem with that)
27 September 2007
Here it comes
I can feel another black hole on its way in. This isn't supposed to be happening, the last one really wasn't that long ago. And everything is working with it, pushing me further in. The dogs are extra-needy (they can probably sense that there's something wrong with me), the neighbor dog broke their fence today so I had to lock him in our yard, which meant Argos couldn't go out until R got home to take the neighbor dog home, which made Tiffany and Argos an even bigger pain in my butt. And my damn computer chair is going to hell, randomly it just gets shorter, whatever it is that holds it up is going out. I'm currently 4 inches shorter than I was when I started typing.
I knew it was coming, there were signs, I just pretended they weren't real. Like the entire past week when I haven't cared to eat at all, when food has lost almost all flavor. I didn't even enjoy the Taco Bell nachos I had last weekend, usually they are an indulgence (because I refuse to eat crap very often, but it tastes sooooo good). And I've been tired, not just slightly tired, I mean unable to focus on anything and so lazy I go 3 days without showering tired. This thing is about to suck me in, and I have no idea how to get away.
On top of that, I have commitments. This weekend R and I are staying with a friend of mine, her fiance (as of last weekend, yay them) just left for 2 1/2 months of military training and she doesn't want to be alone this first weekend. So I have to entertain her, and be all smiles and sunshine for her baby boy- my godson. When all I really want to do is lay on the couch with random packages of instant food around me (like tostitos and salsa, and lunchables pizza) and only get up to pee all weekend long. I'm not going to actually enjoy the black hole, but fighting it doesn't work, so I'd might as well just do what I can to get myself through it easiest (instant food is the only option, if it requires any effort beyond opening a bag or box I will not eat until the black hole is over in a week or so).
I sound fucking mental. Sometimes I think I must be. How can I be normal if this sudden depression hits me like this? I know that it's only about 2 weeks start to finish (including the few days of crankiness before I realize it's happening and the few days of quiet and crying after I start coming around), and I can completely function the whole time (the first time it happened after we got married, R never knew, he thought I was PMSing or something), this just makes me feel out of control. I want some sort of protective cage to hide myself in until it's over, where can I find one of those?
I knew it was coming, there were signs, I just pretended they weren't real. Like the entire past week when I haven't cared to eat at all, when food has lost almost all flavor. I didn't even enjoy the Taco Bell nachos I had last weekend, usually they are an indulgence (because I refuse to eat crap very often, but it tastes sooooo good). And I've been tired, not just slightly tired, I mean unable to focus on anything and so lazy I go 3 days without showering tired. This thing is about to suck me in, and I have no idea how to get away.
On top of that, I have commitments. This weekend R and I are staying with a friend of mine, her fiance (as of last weekend, yay them) just left for 2 1/2 months of military training and she doesn't want to be alone this first weekend. So I have to entertain her, and be all smiles and sunshine for her baby boy- my godson. When all I really want to do is lay on the couch with random packages of instant food around me (like tostitos and salsa, and lunchables pizza) and only get up to pee all weekend long. I'm not going to actually enjoy the black hole, but fighting it doesn't work, so I'd might as well just do what I can to get myself through it easiest (instant food is the only option, if it requires any effort beyond opening a bag or box I will not eat until the black hole is over in a week or so).
I sound fucking mental. Sometimes I think I must be. How can I be normal if this sudden depression hits me like this? I know that it's only about 2 weeks start to finish (including the few days of crankiness before I realize it's happening and the few days of quiet and crying after I start coming around), and I can completely function the whole time (the first time it happened after we got married, R never knew, he thought I was PMSing or something), this just makes me feel out of control. I want some sort of protective cage to hide myself in until it's over, where can I find one of those?
18 September 2007
No more stealthiness, the truth is revealed (kid mentioned)
OK, so I wasn't being all that stealthy, I'm sure some of you figured it out. But now for the details.
Yesterday we went to court over custody of Little H. It was intended to be an emergency hearing (which was scheduled over a month after we asked for it), but it's going to end up being an all out battle. Little H and his mom (aka: womb host) plus her boyfriend (who does not rate a name) and the other 3 kids (products of an unworthy mother who will forever suffer needlessly- POAUMWWFSN) lived in a tent over the summer. Womb Host claims that they just stayed there 1-3 weeks per month all summer, but Little H doesn't remember ever sleeping in a house from the time the first "camping trip" started until after CPS got involved 3 months later.
Other things eventually came up, like Little H's lack of dental care (he will be 6 in November and had never been to a dentist, he finally went last week and needed 2 root canals- if anybody can explain how teeth get that bad in 5 years, please let me know because I'm apalled) and his attendance record in Kindergarten (21 1/2 days absent, 14 tardies, the only reason a truency officer wasn't called is that truency doesn't apply to Kindergarten, at least not in our area), plus 5 previous CPS complaints that CPS didn't look at or even know existed when they started the most recent investigation.
We ran out of time yesterday (were only scheduled for 1 hour, and we went over by 20 minutes with 2 witnesses still waiting, and a list of a dozen more now that we have time to find/subpoena them), so we're waiting to hear when the next court date is. So far, every point scored in that courtroom is on our side, and Womb Host dug herself one big hole. She dragged Little H there, thinking that she could force him to testify against his father (she's coached him), but instead got an ass chewing from the judge for it. She got mouthy back at him and got scolded again. She is showing them her true colors, and it's gonna get us custody. I'm so happy. Little H deserves a stable environment, not moving every few months or missing school an average of over 2 days per month.
Keep your fingers crossed everybody. We can't think of any ace in the hole she might have (because we've already pre-empted the ones we knew about, and Little H won't be testifying at all- which was half of her strategy from what we can tell), so now it's just riding it out and getting ready to be full-time parents. We can't wait.
Yesterday we went to court over custody of Little H. It was intended to be an emergency hearing (which was scheduled over a month after we asked for it), but it's going to end up being an all out battle. Little H and his mom (aka: womb host) plus her boyfriend (who does not rate a name) and the other 3 kids (products of an unworthy mother who will forever suffer needlessly- POAUMWWFSN) lived in a tent over the summer. Womb Host claims that they just stayed there 1-3 weeks per month all summer, but Little H doesn't remember ever sleeping in a house from the time the first "camping trip" started until after CPS got involved 3 months later.
Other things eventually came up, like Little H's lack of dental care (he will be 6 in November and had never been to a dentist, he finally went last week and needed 2 root canals- if anybody can explain how teeth get that bad in 5 years, please let me know because I'm apalled) and his attendance record in Kindergarten (21 1/2 days absent, 14 tardies, the only reason a truency officer wasn't called is that truency doesn't apply to Kindergarten, at least not in our area), plus 5 previous CPS complaints that CPS didn't look at or even know existed when they started the most recent investigation.
We ran out of time yesterday (were only scheduled for 1 hour, and we went over by 20 minutes with 2 witnesses still waiting, and a list of a dozen more now that we have time to find/subpoena them), so we're waiting to hear when the next court date is. So far, every point scored in that courtroom is on our side, and Womb Host dug herself one big hole. She dragged Little H there, thinking that she could force him to testify against his father (she's coached him), but instead got an ass chewing from the judge for it. She got mouthy back at him and got scolded again. She is showing them her true colors, and it's gonna get us custody. I'm so happy. Little H deserves a stable environment, not moving every few months or missing school an average of over 2 days per month.
Keep your fingers crossed everybody. We can't think of any ace in the hole she might have (because we've already pre-empted the ones we knew about, and Little H won't be testifying at all- which was half of her strategy from what we can tell), so now it's just riding it out and getting ready to be full-time parents. We can't wait.
11 September 2007
Being on a break does not give you a break
No energy to tell you the frustrating news about Little H, the fact that our lawyer has almost no hope now (it's amazing how one little dentist appt takes biomom from unfit to parent of the year). I don't want to talk about it. Today I need to talk about even more dreams, the kind that you can't get away from, the kind that hurt that part of your heart that is supposed to feel only true happiness.
Saturday was the big party at the tattoo shop. R had to work, so it was my job to take pictures for the website. It was a long day, making sure I got shots of the bands, all the sponsors, the owner and artists having fun, etc. And then my little brother (CML) (who had been there most of the day) starts seriously looking into the design of his next tattoo. That tattoo will be his memorial for Goofball. As I walk past with the camera, on my way to get a few shots of the band jamming away, I see his go.ogle image search- gorilla. Goofball's collection of gorillas pops into my head, and I blink back a few tears and walk faster to get outside. The sun is glaring down and I'm instantly hot and wishing I was still standing in air conditioning, but afraid to step back inside for fear I would break down. An hour later, as I'm watching a group of college students get matching tattoos (and the girls in the group getting pierced), CML comes up to me with a few sheets of paper. "Which do you think is more like Goofball?" I have to look, I can't hide from it forever. One is a big silverback gorilla pounding his chest and roaring. That's not Goofball, he had no need to act aggressive. The other is standing on all 4 extremities, but with a serious look on his face, like he's protecting what he needs to, but not beyond the ability to comfort "his" children. That's Goofball, every bit of his personality, it says so much more to CML and I, because we know what that gorilla is thinking, we can see it in his eyes, and we miss it.
What does that have to do with the dream? Nothing really, there's no real link, until you get really deep into my brain. Somehow, Goofball is so linked to my desire for children that it felt like I lost more than him when he died. He was my link to hope that we'd overcome IF, he was the person I wanted to give a baby to, almost more than I wanted to give R a baby. So crying over Goofball suddenly feels like a precursor to my terrible dream. A dream that I could never imagine living through in real life, one that I am devistated that any of you have had to.
I don't remember how it started, but the beginning isn't important anyway. The part that keeps replaying over and over in my head, that kept me awake most of Saturday night, is the important part. I was in some sort of office building, not sure if it was a medical office or not. The dreaming me didn't realize that I was pregnant, but the me in my dream knew. I remember the feel of my stomach, how soft it was, a little bit squishy, a safe place for my little one to grow. And then the baby started talking to me (inside my head). I was so happy to have that small conversation, it felt like the purest connection two beings could ever have. And then my baby told me the news, that it was about to die and there was no way to stop it. The baby asked me to call R over and tell him, so that he would know. I started feeling the baby's heartbeat, right through my belly, I knew that he/she was putting everything left into making it beat so hard we could feel it, to give us the comfort of saying goodbye. And then it stopped and my baby whispered goodbye to me, and I moved R's hand away from my stomach because the heartbeat was gone. We were still standing in the hallway of an office building, quiet, knowing that we'd still never be parents.
And then, in my dream, I woke up and felt my belly. Felt that it was still big and squishy and holding a baby. And then I woke up for real, knowing that the dream -and the dream it was apparently inside of- was fake. That I've never made it past 5 1/2 weeks, never long enough to bloat, definitely never long enough to feel the baby or look pregnant, or even find a heartbeat. And even if I did, Goofball won't be there to share any of it. Go ahead subconcious, kick me while I'm down.
Saturday was the big party at the tattoo shop. R had to work, so it was my job to take pictures for the website. It was a long day, making sure I got shots of the bands, all the sponsors, the owner and artists having fun, etc. And then my little brother (CML) (who had been there most of the day) starts seriously looking into the design of his next tattoo. That tattoo will be his memorial for Goofball. As I walk past with the camera, on my way to get a few shots of the band jamming away, I see his go.ogle image search- gorilla. Goofball's collection of gorillas pops into my head, and I blink back a few tears and walk faster to get outside. The sun is glaring down and I'm instantly hot and wishing I was still standing in air conditioning, but afraid to step back inside for fear I would break down. An hour later, as I'm watching a group of college students get matching tattoos (and the girls in the group getting pierced), CML comes up to me with a few sheets of paper. "Which do you think is more like Goofball?" I have to look, I can't hide from it forever. One is a big silverback gorilla pounding his chest and roaring. That's not Goofball, he had no need to act aggressive. The other is standing on all 4 extremities, but with a serious look on his face, like he's protecting what he needs to, but not beyond the ability to comfort "his" children. That's Goofball, every bit of his personality, it says so much more to CML and I, because we know what that gorilla is thinking, we can see it in his eyes, and we miss it.
What does that have to do with the dream? Nothing really, there's no real link, until you get really deep into my brain. Somehow, Goofball is so linked to my desire for children that it felt like I lost more than him when he died. He was my link to hope that we'd overcome IF, he was the person I wanted to give a baby to, almost more than I wanted to give R a baby. So crying over Goofball suddenly feels like a precursor to my terrible dream. A dream that I could never imagine living through in real life, one that I am devistated that any of you have had to.
I don't remember how it started, but the beginning isn't important anyway. The part that keeps replaying over and over in my head, that kept me awake most of Saturday night, is the important part. I was in some sort of office building, not sure if it was a medical office or not. The dreaming me didn't realize that I was pregnant, but the me in my dream knew. I remember the feel of my stomach, how soft it was, a little bit squishy, a safe place for my little one to grow. And then the baby started talking to me (inside my head). I was so happy to have that small conversation, it felt like the purest connection two beings could ever have. And then my baby told me the news, that it was about to die and there was no way to stop it. The baby asked me to call R over and tell him, so that he would know. I started feeling the baby's heartbeat, right through my belly, I knew that he/she was putting everything left into making it beat so hard we could feel it, to give us the comfort of saying goodbye. And then it stopped and my baby whispered goodbye to me, and I moved R's hand away from my stomach because the heartbeat was gone. We were still standing in the hallway of an office building, quiet, knowing that we'd still never be parents.
And then, in my dream, I woke up and felt my belly. Felt that it was still big and squishy and holding a baby. And then I woke up for real, knowing that the dream -and the dream it was apparently inside of- was fake. That I've never made it past 5 1/2 weeks, never long enough to bloat, definitely never long enough to feel the baby or look pregnant, or even find a heartbeat. And even if I did, Goofball won't be there to share any of it. Go ahead subconcious, kick me while I'm down.
06 September 2007
Late Night Reruns
There comes a time when husbands finally "get it." After the frustration and cluelessness about IF, eventually they just understand. No more "let's keep trying, I just know it'll happen naturally this time," no more "I don't know why you're so upset by a BFN, you said you didn't think it had worked," no more "I'm tired of having sex when you're fertile, let's just do it for fun." At some point, they have that epiphany, a sudden understanding and empathy for what you've been through. And eventually, they show that knowledge and curse at Sex and the City.
Late at night, there really isn't anything that great on, even now that we have cable again. So, you end up watching random episodes of SATC, with all sorts of words omitted because it's on TBS or some wimpy channel like that and they don't allow any cursing. You don't really pay much attention to the TV, you pet the dogs and just leave it on as background noise. And then you hear "just because we can't have a baby doesn't mean we can't live our lives" or something very similar. Your husband's mouth drops open, and you suddenly realize that he's no longer an IF idiot.
Later in the show there's a cardboard baby, the whole "I can't give you a real one, but here's one to look at and make you 100X's more depressed" concept. R yelled at the TV, called the guy an inconsiderate douchebag, promised me to do whatever it takes to give me a real baby and never do something that cruel to me, EVER. I told him that if he ever did, I'd pack my stuff instantly, and use the cardboard baby as kindling to set his truck on fire. He agreed that it would be suitable punishment, that actually somebody as ass-ish as that deserved way more than a flaming truck.
I think I kinda like this husband of mine. Now that he's grown a brain, he might be worth holding onto.
Late at night, there really isn't anything that great on, even now that we have cable again. So, you end up watching random episodes of SATC, with all sorts of words omitted because it's on TBS or some wimpy channel like that and they don't allow any cursing. You don't really pay much attention to the TV, you pet the dogs and just leave it on as background noise. And then you hear "just because we can't have a baby doesn't mean we can't live our lives" or something very similar. Your husband's mouth drops open, and you suddenly realize that he's no longer an IF idiot.
Later in the show there's a cardboard baby, the whole "I can't give you a real one, but here's one to look at and make you 100X's more depressed" concept. R yelled at the TV, called the guy an inconsiderate douchebag, promised me to do whatever it takes to give me a real baby and never do something that cruel to me, EVER. I told him that if he ever did, I'd pack my stuff instantly, and use the cardboard baby as kindling to set his truck on fire. He agreed that it would be suitable punishment, that actually somebody as ass-ish as that deserved way more than a flaming truck.
I think I kinda like this husband of mine. Now that he's grown a brain, he might be worth holding onto.
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