it’s been a while

I’ve been away from here for a while. So much has happened. We had a great Thanksgiving Holiday with my sister’s entire family, a frustrating but hilarious trek to a Christmas Tree Farm that resulted in the biggest tree we have ever had that literally didn’t fit in our house (if you are picturing the scene from Christmas Vacation, that is highly accurate.), and my girls and I took a fabulous, busy, albeit rainy trip to NYC 2 weeks ago. It was so great, so exhausting, and so fun.

And then...well, I haven’t been well since. What started as a migraine has led to 2 weeks of dizziness/nausea, headaches, anxiety, and some really high blood pressure. 3 emergency room visits, 2 head scans, and a lot of meds later and I am still no closer to figuring out what is wrong with me. I struggled to get through my oldest son’s birthday and doing all the things. Somehow I got everything done, but the holidays were filled with anxiety and stress and worry and my general upset-ness of how I am feeling and all the things I am missing, and how I can barely be a mom like this.

I’ve worked myself up so much about all these worst case scenario things and that anxiety is contributing to the headaches/blood pressure issues. I have felt so much like a hot mess inside, not showing anyone how I am really feeling because I don’t need everyone around me to worry to. Fuck. I have too many people who need me, something can’t be seriously wrong with me. Yet I know how unfair life is.

Tonight I am supposed to go for an MRI to rule out all the really bad things. I’m going to need a truck tonight Xanax to get through it, and then the next few days until I know something. Playing into some of my anxiety is that 12 years ago on New Years Eve, we were told that my dad’s cancer was no longer treatable and that he would die. And I just think what a fucked up, bullshit coincidence.

Being a woman, there are so many more things it could be than if I was a man. I’m currently waiting for results of an extended thyroid panel as well as iron levels. I have a month-long hormone test I have to start next cycle, that will give me a broader picture of my current status. I have a visit with a cardiologist to figure out my blood pressure issues as well as a heart murmur I was born with. I need a sleep study because I have a deviated septum and I snore. Plus a consult with a neurologist. If everything with my head is negative then over to an ENT to assess my inner ear. Plus anti-anxiety meds because my doc believes anxiety is driving a lot of this.

Apparently, when I fall apart, I fall apart completely.

All the while my kids need me and have a million things, my puppy has a knee issue and needs surgery, which now has to wait until I get myself straightened out first. My husband has been pouty because I haven’t been around much as I am trying to go to bed early in case lack of sleep is making things worse. It’s just all been a lot and I feel like such a loser at life because of this.

Please don’t comment on what I might have or what you had with similar symptoms...none of that helps and my doctor has ordered me to stop googling and talking to people because it’s making my anxiety so much worse. But if you have prayers, love, good thoughts, healing vibes, those I will take.

I’m really, really scared guys. And I am SO damn emotional. And with all of this comes the reality that my baby-making days are over. And that’s a whole set of other emotions I can’t even touch right now.

New York

I have a love affair with New York City. It’s a city I have come to love so much. A city I feel so at home in, a city where I feel so much like myself in, where I feel like I belong. (I also feel that way about London, but that’s not as convenient to get to). And with the holidays approaching, I really started to miss the city, and started feeling quite sad that I would miss it this year. New York this time of year is magical. It’s unlike any other place I’ve ever been. And it is so soothing for my soul.

Actually, I will be honest here and say that mentally I’ve been struggling on the inside lately. Chicago was amazing and not a long enough trip (I’m planning to go back in March) but some small things happened (a dream where my dad came to visit me was the catalyst) and my anxiety has been really bad. And I feel antsy and uneasy in my own skin. And just very unsettled. And then I had a day where I was more manic and firing on all cylinders, and then 2 days later my period started unexpectedly and I went in a downward spiral. All in the inside. Except that I may have had a meltdown of crying on Friday that I couldn’t control or stop, and my 4 year old may have used wipes to wipe my tears, which made me cry harder. But then I got it together and went to work that night and have been ok ever since, just with anxiety sitting on the sidelines waiting to pounce.

Anyway. New York. So I realized that I had most of December with nothing planned, since I was leaving things open in case my niece graduated this semester so I could go. She’s not going to walk until May, so I had time and PTO that was now open. Discussed it with my husband (who isn’t big on traveling but doesn’t hold me back or hold it against me) and I got my girls on board for a day trip. And then, what was supposed to be a day trip turned into 2 days in the city, with tickets to see Phantom (my favorite, and their first) and the serendipitous find of an affordable hotel room on The UWS on Broadway. We are going to eat street food and Magnolia cupcakes and see a show that is my heart. And look at a giant Christmas tree in the cold and just be so damn thankful it exists in the first place.

Carpe Diem and life is short and YOLO and all of that.

But it works out because they are at the point where gift-wise there isn’t anything they need, so this will serve as an early Christmas present, and I guess now it’s just becoming our thing, New York, this city that makes me feel so me when I’m there.

****If you are feeling down this time of year, please reach out and talk to someone, or do something for yourself that’s just for you that makes you feel a bit better. You deserve to be happy. We all do.****

Weird week

Last week was such a weird one. I encountered so many people behaving in ways that were not normal, I had to wonder if I was in an alternate universe or if there was a full moon or something. (There wasn’t.)

Some odd highlights:

-My husband’s grandmother fell and required surgery. My mother-in-law sort of went wack-o about things even though she was doing the least of everyone to help out. My normally calm and level-headed husband lost his shit with her and spent a few days in such a mood that his secretary was texting me asking if he was ok. No one had ever see him get that mad and stay that way. It surprised even me. I’m guessing it brought up a lot of stuff about how his mom was while he was growing up and he was triggered. But wow.

-My best friend and I made plans 2 weeks ago to have dinner last week. The day before we were to meet she messaged me asking what time the 4 of us were meeting. 4??? Oh damn, I had forgotten that we had said the last time we went out that the next dinner date should be a double date with our husbands. But when we made plans she didn’t mention it and honestly I had forgotten. Right after our last dinner I had started making the Chicago plans and that turned into a thing where I didn’t hear from her and thought she was perhaps upset with me for still going (if she ever was mad she never said and isn’t now so not sure if that’s what it was or not) and I had spent so much time worrying if I over-stepped with the whole thing that I didn’t remember we were supposed to try and all 4 go out. So anyway, it’s the day before and of course I don’t have a sitter for dinner time on a school night. And we don’t just roll out on our kids like that and leave the older ones in charge. So I think she was disappointed about that, and I’m sure her husband was also, so I said we could reschedule if it caused issues but she said it was fine.

AND THEN at dinner. She acted like she didn’t want to be there with me. She kept her phone on her lap looking down at it the whole time, told me she had invited this other person (who I didn’t know and had never met) that she worked with but they couldn’t make it, took a bunch of selfies at the table (not something she ever does, like ever) and toward the end when we were still chatting (at least I was) abruptly got up and started walking out. I was like “oh, we’re leaving?!?!” trying to quickly gather all my things. She didn’t even wait for me, she was ahead of me the whole time and in her car before I got to mine. SO BIZARRE.

-Friday night I noticed my sister had called about 30 minutes earlier and I missed the call. I called her back and she asked me like 2 questions about Plans for the next day then abruptly got off the phone with me out of the blue with no explanation. Like, I’m not really even sure why she had called me to begin with because her questions were weird and kind of out of place. I don’t know. You called me. If you didn’t want to chat, just text me or don’t answer the phone???

I told my husband, I always feel like the sky is falling or some shit when I’M the one acting normal and even and balanced and everyone around me seems to be spinning out.

I’m currently packing for Chicago and hope that by the time I fly back into town everyone around me has righted themselves again.

Chicago

This time next Tuesday I will be on a quick, solo trip to Chicago. I have never been, and I am very excited. It’s supposed to be very cold (well colder than the east coast has been so far) so I have to pack accordingly.

Here’s how it came about. My best friend (who is a bit older than me) has a daughter who’s about 10 years younger than me. Her daughter and her and very close, more like friends, and has always been involved and around. When we do things, it’s always the 3 of us, and it’s pretty awesome. Her daughter moved to Chicago 3.5 years ago for a job on a very popular TV show that films there. She’s behind the scenes, not on camera. I’ll call her Tori.

Recently Tori has been having a harder time...just with the loneliness that comes from being in a different city than your family. When she moved out there she was living with a friend who has since gotten married and moved. It’s also the last year of the show, so with a potential loss of income amidst just general life stuff, she’s having a tough go of it. Of course, I’ve offered all I can (Netflix passwords, access to an online grocery delivery account) to help her if she gets in a jam or just needs anything. She also took a second job, and has realized between the two she couldn’t travel home for Thanksgiving, instead opting for the Christmas-New Years dark week at her main job.

I suggested to my friend that we should try and take a girls trip to visit Tori. Anyway, it turned into this whole thing (on her part) and between that and her new job she opted not to go. There’s a lot more to it, but as it’s not my thing and I don’t totally understand enough, I’m not going to delve into all that. But I had already figured out it was super inexpensive to fly there, had it all worked out on my end with my family to go, so when the ticket dropped to $72 round trip I booked it without thinking twice.

I love traveling on my own. I have a place to stay and things to do while Tori is at work. I get to go with her to the set and check out all the exciting things there, and then I’ll go off and do my own thing in between. A co-worker recently went, so he has money left on his mass transit pass he’s giving me to use. I booked the early flight Tuesday and the latest flight Wednesday, so I have 2 full days basically. I’m going to drive myself and utilize short-term parking with shuttle service at the airport, and I have an under the seat rolling bag that’s free. Since I don’t need to worry about taking shampoo and stuff  like that it should be plenty of space for me. My oldest arranged to be off during the day so she can hang out with my Baby boy (4 on Saturday...!!!) while my husband is at work and she can get my Kindergartener off the bus, which stops right in front of our house.

I’m super excited to visit this new city and to spend time with Tori and see this new life she’s built. I’m kinda bummed her mom isn’t coming to, more for Tori than for me. But I can’t control that situation. So I’m just going to be there for her daughter, the same way I know my friend would be there for mine.

one and twenty

Oct. 22, 1999 I met my husband. I only remembered the exact date because it was the day after I took my Boards, back when it was on paper and only given a few times a year, so I knew that date I would take them long before I ever would. I met him and initially left not knowing if I would actually talk to him again. And my sister and best friend at the time heard me all wish-washy if I would talk to him and declared I would marry him, before either of them that ever even met him. And it ended up very quickly turning into a great big mutual falling in love.

The fact that I even met him that night was out of sheer desperation. I had been unceremoniously stood up by a fellow classmate/person I was really into, leaving me the 5th wheel in a group of couples who were pretty tipsy and being very all over each other. 2 were married friends of mine, the other 2 friends of theirs and ones I really didn’t like. It was miserable and the girl I didn’t like literally said to me in the car on the way to the next bar “you must feel really left out”. So when I saw a cute guy sitting alone on the other side of the bar, I noticed and thought maybe I would have someone to talk to or give me a ride home. Or something. I tried to rope in my friend M, and asked her what she thought of this guy. Was he actually cute or was I just desperate? And M started pointing at the wrong guy saying to just call him over and I panicked because please don’t call the wrong guy over! And she said go talk to him. And I had this flash of thought that my night was already so bad that I’d go over and his girlfriend would walk out from the bathroom and I would end up in a fight that I wasn’t up for. So I just did a few more shots to try and block out everything. But I kept looking over at this guy. Until M stands up and screams across the bar “Hey you, come over here!” and half the guys in the bar move forward, until she singled the guy out. I introduce myself and try and apologize for this scene...the drunk yelling across the bar, the 2 drunk couples with their tongues down each other’s throats right at the table with us. We tried to talk but the scene at our table was beyond that. The other girl was now laying sprawled over the bar stool and the guy was leaning over her aggressively kissing her, and my friend M was howling with laughter when this guy said his name , because somehow I had dated 3 other guys (2 recently) with the same name. He was looking around at the scene before us and said “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” And I was all “yes please, like anywhere but here right now” and so I left with him.

Guys, I KNOW. I was sober enough to know what I was doing and to have 2 thoughts as we were walking out 1.) maybe he will turn out to be a decent guy and we will talk for a few and I can find my way back to my car. I know M’s house is sort of near here.
And 2) Or he’s a serial killer, in which case this night has been the most awful and I just want to die anyway and he will just murder me and put me out of my misery.

Turns out he was a nice guy. Waaaay nicer and better than me, in fact. Totally not used to the wildness of my crew and all those shenanigans. At the bar alone and lonely. Lived quite nearby. We ended up having some stuff in common and he was cutely overly excited about that. I was sort of humoring him and biding time until I thought it would be ok to ask if he could help me find my car. (I didn’t know the area super well, but knew enough to help navigate my way back.) We ended up talking until 4am. I quietly snuck back into my friends house and slept on the couch for a couple hours.

I’ve talked to him everyday since. We used to try and celebrate together quietly on that date. Reminisce about that night, watch the movie he was so excited to show me that night. Some years it just slips right by without being noticed.

Oct. 22, 2018 19 years after meeting I was at the surgery center to have a D&C after miscarrying our 8th pregnancy. There isn’t a lot to say about that that I haven’t already said. It was devastating. I didn’t want him to go with me, partly for logistical reasons, partly because I felt so alone that I just wanted to be alone. I only conceded to let my friend take me when I found out they wouldn’t let me go home alone or even in an Uber after being under anesthesia. I remember going into the changing room to change into the hospital gown and compression socks and just standing there undressing, feeling more alone than I have ever felt in my life, where it was almost crippling, the aloneness. That’s what stands out the most from that day.

One year later. I’m on my cycle and bleeding. That’s not lost on me. 20 years we have spent together, trying to build and compete our family. 20 years is a long time to be on this TTC train. I’ve been on it so long I don’t know how the hell to get off.

Tonight. We are going out to a late movie after the littles are asleep. Not because we are celebrating this day. Because it’s Tuesday and I just found out about a Thanks rewards program we get through out wireless and TV provider, where movie tickets are Buy-one-get one free every Tuesday. And there’s actually a movie I would venture out to a theater to see. (ZombieLand Double Tap) that I think will be worth it. And that somehow when I entered everything in, the rewards paid for more than one ticket plus the fees and left me with a $10 balance, which I had an old gift card that covered the rest. So it’s a free date night. That thanks to my period plus a head cold, I don’t exactly feel up for. But I’m going to go anyway.

Because free tickets.

Because 1 and 20.

lasts and truth

I really, really want another baby.

There, I said it. It’s ridiculous, it’s selfish, it’s probably a million other things as well. But it is true. I can’t tell you how much I wish it wasn’t. I was kidding myself if I tried thinking I didn’t. I wish I didn't have to carry around this massive weight like a deep, dark secret. Everyone thinks it's ridiculous of me. I know it is. But it's still there.

My friend and coworker had her baby a few weeks ago. I was working that day and so I got to see him at just a few hours old. I held him then, and my heart just ached and I had to try hard to keep the tears from falling. I got to spend time with them the other night, and as soon as he woke up I held him. I got to feed him and cuddle him against my chest and rock him and just hold him. And it was amazing. I listened to my friend talks about struggling to find a rhythm, how to keep him asleep at decent times, how to get sleep herself. I had answers that I didn’t share. It’s not my place, she has to figure that out on her own.

But man. THAT right there is my skill set. Like Mel wrote about a few weeks back. That is what I know how to do and am good at. And I love it. Every sleepless, exhausting minute. Babies are all what is right and good with the world. The most innocent of creatures that only want love and warmth and snuggles and a full belly back.

Something has been missing from my life. I’ve been trying to fill it with other busyness...traveling on my own, going to shows, visiting more with friends, various projects of all kinds. It’s all been just a temporary lifting...nothing that sticks. Nothing that lasts.

This time last year I was pregnant with a doomed pregnancy. I was waiting to miscarry on my own. For a pregnancy that was such a shock, but still so very wanted, that felt like a last chance.

Miscarriage leaves a baby-shaped void that nothing can fill. It leaves behind a grief that you can’t describe. It leave an ache in your heart so strong that sometimes it feels like it will kill you. It leaves a baby-shapes hole in your soul that sometimes feels like it might swallow you up in it. It leaves a sadness that lingers in every breath you take. Miscarriage leaves behind a feeling of such utter loneliness. It leaves behind anger and confusion.

I don’t notice it all the time. That’s not to say I forget ever. But life moves fast and it’s not always at the front of my mind. Sometimes in a crowd I feel so lonely. I watch other happy families or pregnant women or infants in carriers and I get swept up in the all-consuming grief, and that baby-shaped hole opens back up. And sometimes I fall in.

I don’t want to feel this way. I wish that I could move on from this. I’ve been trying to find other ways to fill the void, but nothing can. I feel it when I see pieces of it in my home...the crib mobile in the closet, a stray bib, baby sock, or toy thy didn’t make the bins in the attic, the pieces of the dismantled crib tucked way in the back, the breast pump sitting on the top shelf of my closet. Things tucked away out of plain sight but things that I can still see every now and then. I feel it when I look back at old pictures of  my tiny new babies. I felt it when I held my friend’s precious, tiny son.

It’s muscle memory, remembering what to do without even thinking about it. It’s instinct. It’s me. It just is.

(((I know I’m one of the lucky ones. But it does not diminish my pain or fill the baby-shapes hole in my heart.)))

Infertility robbed me of time. All those years I lost trying to make things happen. Miscarriage robbed me of the hope that everything would turn out ok. I don’t have any hope that I will ever have another baby. It seems pretty impossible to me, seeing as I’m now over 40 and have miscarried 4 times in between two lucky shots. Every month that goes by the already slim odds get smaller and smaller.
I’m just waiting for time to officially run out. I hope to have come to some peace about this by then.

But man. I wish my last baby wasn’t the last baby I miscarried.

6 bullets for Friday

I don’t want my last post to stay the most recent one, so I decided to do a bunch of random happenings right now, bullet-style.

•We are 3 weeks in to the new school year and so far, it’s been pretty good. In fact, it’s been a lot smoother than I expected, which is a great surprise. Even my kid going to Kindergarten transitioned extremely well. He has wanted to ride the bus, but due to our weird proximity to the school we didn’t have a stop close enough. We appealed for a new stop and we got approved yesterday, so he got to ride the bus home and was so excited.

•My best friend’s daughter has been living in Chicago for a few years now. She works on the set of a TV show, but that series is ending and she’s trying to get into the Union and get another gig before this one ends. She’s been really stressed and a bit lonely and kind of in a dark space right now. I’ve been racking my brain trying to see what I could do to help. I found a comedy show that’s in Chicago this weekend and sent her a ticket to go. She is so excited. I hope it’s a small thing that can help lift her spirits right now. My friend and I are trying to figure out a time we can take a quick trip to visit her.

•Things in my house keep breaking. Over the last month or so we have had our big freezer go up twice (my husband fixed it once and the same thing happened again), our kitchen sink had a leak, our kitchen fridge has a mysterious leak we can’t pinpoint, and a pipe burst and leaked into my oldest’s room in the basement. The only thing that got ruined was her bed, which was a very old hand me down mattress anyway. Her new bed just got delivered today, and it’s really nice and was a really great price. It’s called a serta Caldiero. I had her go over and lay on about 10 different mattresses and find the best one. I’m so impressed that I am going to earmark some funds from our tax return next year to get two more for my 2 other teens. And luckily my husband is a plumber so he has been able to fix all the leaks, but we are still working on the freezer situation because he’s never really worked on those.

•I had my yearly review at work and it’s probably the best one I have ever gotten. There were a lot of things going on the past couple years that created conflict and in turn I had to change how I responded to them, being firm enough to let them know my position and what I was and was not willing to do. It was more ancillary stuff vs how I actually perform my job in the clinical setting. But I sort of got my point across that I wasn’t going to be pushed around or be the fall guy or anything else. They seemed to take notice and have treated me with a lot more respect. I actually even got some days off I didn’t expect to get approved for. We don’t get merit-based raises, but there was just an across the board raise about a month ago, so I am very happy work-wise.

•I have a love affair with Trader Joe’s. It is my favorite store and my happy place. Right now there is SO MUCH fall themed stuff out. I can’t even keep up. I went there 4 times last week and couldn’t manage to get all the things. Last Friday one of my closest work friends and I met up there and shopped together and had so much fun looking at all the stuff. I’m not super into everything being pumpkin spice, but we bought a lot of stuff to share and try. The hold-the-cone pumpkin ginger cones were amazing as was the pumpkin ice cream. The pumpkin rolls (like cinnamon rolls that come in the pop-open can) were a big disappointment. Everyone I shared the Pumpkin Spice Rubiois tea with loved it (I don’t drink tea) and also the pumpkin spice K-cups. Actually, every coffee I have ever tried from TJs has been really really good. There’s just so much good stuff in that store.

•It’s Friday and I am feeling very content today. I don’t feel rushed or like I have a thousand things to do, the fridge and pantry are stocked and I have plenty of leftover food so I don’t have to cook tonight through this weekend. All of my reminders on my phone have been cleared off and handled. I just feel a sense of calm. I went our with my best friend last night  and laughed so hard I cried and couldn’t breathe and my stomach hurt, and my anxiety is non-existent today.

anger

I wasn't going to write about this, but I really need a place to put some of my feelings. Hopefully by putting it here I can let some of it go.

So, I have written a lot about a friendship that I outgrew that had started to become toxic. If you are curious you can go back to posts from the last third of 2015 and some in 2016, and there are a few others sprinkled through this blog. What has made it hard about ending this friendship is that she is the godmother of my oldest daughter, and so it wasn't as clean of a break as I would have liked or needed, but I always tried to remain neutral for the sake of my kid.

I haven't spoken to her in a very long time. Any text messages were usually initiated by her and mostly I didn't respond or had little to say. There were just some things over the past couple years (especially that for someone who still wanted to maintain a friendship, she didn't step up when I did reach out in a crisis last summer.) The farther away from the friendship I got I realized I wasn't missing anything at all, and that actually I was better off without her.

She was supposed to attend my daughter's graduation in June but backed out at the last minute, claiming she didn't want her presence to create any "drama" for anyone else (meaning me). This was just one more thing that proved she continues to make things all about her, and is a selfish person at the crux of it. I was very angry and upset by her choice, because her being there would have meant so much to my kid. My daughter was upset but trying to focus on graduating, and asked me to not get involved and say anything. To me, that was the final straw, and I blocked her number. I was going to say something but in the end decided it wasn't worth my time, and that nothing I could say would make her change her mind. I did talk with my daughter the week after graduation about it, letting her know that I did not even talk to this person at all, so that it wasn't anything I might have said that made her feel like she couldn't come. I explained that I was upset for her, and that it was okay to expect more from someone, and that the day was about her graduating and this big accomplishment and new chapter, not about anyone else, and she deserved people in her life that would treat her that way. My daughter acknowledged how upset this made her, and that she had started to notice how selfish she was just over this and different things she had picked up on over the years. 

This person did visit my daughter at work one day and gave her a card and just said sorry I couldn't make it, and left. 

I just found this out today, but apparently over the summer when this person's birthday arrived, she wasn't happy that "all my daughter did" was text her a birthday message. She called and left my daughter a voicemail message chastising her for "not making time for her" and "doing more" or "offering to take me out BECAUSE I GAVE YOU $40 FOR YOUR GRADUATION" and “I did for you, you do for me”. 

Yes. Let that sink in. a 41 year old woman left that kind of message for her 18 year old goddaughter.

I CAN'T EVEN. there are no words. but also...FUCK HER. OMG. how dare you leave that kind of a selfish, self-absorbed, self-centered, asshole message to MY KID. I had so much anger I didn't even know what to do with it.

I was also just so devastated and heartbroken for my daughter. She didn't deserve that kind of message from someone who is supposed to be a mentor to her, someone she looks up to and respects. How hurtful that was.

And also? The majority of raising kids is doing stuff for them and not getting a lot in return. It’s a whole lot of doing, doing, doing and sometimes that’s about it. It can be thankless a lot of the time or things that go unnoticed. It takes a long time to ever truly appreciate all the things parents do. So expecting a just-out-of-highschool teen to even think she could or would be expected to take someone twice her age out to a birthday anything is a bit...odd? I don’t know. I know my 18 year old self wouldn’t have thought to treat my godmother to a day out for her birthday. What in the world??? More importantly, where is the unconditional love here? The giving a gift because you want to and it makes you feel good to make someone else happy, not what you expect to get in return? That’s just not how I was raised, or how I’m raising my kids.

My daughter came home soon after I found out. I asked her to sit so we could talk. I was almost in tears having to bring this up, but I told her I knew about the message. And her face fell. And she said she had never responded to her, that she had not spoken or texted with her in the almost 2 months since that message. I think in part because she felt embarrassed...as if she had in fact done something ungrateful or wrong. I assured her that was not the case...that it was unacceptable for anyone to treat her that way and leave her such a mean and hateful message. We talked about how its terrible and how much it hurts when someone you loved and trusted does not act the way in which you think they will act. How 2 months have gone by and this person has never for a second thought that maybe what they did was wrong and out of line and reached out to apologize. How the silence from her speaks volumes.

I mean...you hate me, you are mad at me? Fine. Great. Treat me badly, say whatever you want to me. But don't you dare mess with my kid. That's unforgivable.

My daughter came to the conclusion on her own that this person is not really worthy of her time and energy any longer. That as upsetting as it is, that she deserves better in her life. She is not short on adults who love her and cheer for her and only want the best for her. People who are kind always and have her best interest at heart. People that will gift her things and not expect anything in return. 

She asked for a new phone number. We got a new phone number. Not solely because of this but also because she wanted a fresh start and has had this number since middle school, and sometimes gets messages from people she doesn't want to hear from.

I went in to my blocked numbers and sent one last message. I said that it wasn't bad enough she had to be selfish instead of putting herself aside and attend the graduation, but then she had to be ridiculous and leave such a nasty message throwing her gift back in my daughter's face, and how there is no redemption from that, for how much she hurt my kid. How I never talked bad about her to my daughter so that she wouldn't want to spend time with her, but that she showed her true colors and that now my daughter knew the truth. How I found her actions to be sad, and how she was not welcome to contact me nor anyone in my family ever again.

I feel like the anger from this is going to stick with me for a while. I realized the kind of person she was turning into...I am just so sorry I couldn't protect my daughter from finding out in this way.  

bridge

I’ve been writing this post in my head for two days, but now I can’t seem to find the words. Apologies if this post ends up sounding a little clunky.

I had this idea that came to me during her Living Memorial. For so long, I had been stuck with what I could do for her that would be light and fun. Everyone around her seemed to take her to great places to eat, to great weekend getaways, to glorious spa days and mani/pedis and all of it. I didn’t know what to do that wouldn’t be more of the same. But listening to her husband read aloud a conscious-stream-style poetry he had been writing that summed up their life together, I realized that I had known her almost as long as her husband. And that I and only a handful of people in this packed gymnasium of a couple thousand, actually knew every word of what he had written, because we knew her whole story, not just a part of it. And my idea was born. I was going to pick her up, and we were going to drive around listening to a curated playlist of all of the bands we had listened to and seen in concert together. We would find somewhere to park, smoke a joint together and just laugh and reminisce about all of our crazy shenanigans. It would be a feel good visit, not one filled with so many tears.

Sadly, we never got the chance. There are a million reasons why, and no one is to blame. Well, that’s not entirely true. We can blame cancer. We can blame time. Cancer quickly took all her good days leaving her feel fatigued and nauseated most of the time. Time continued to tick by, not waiting for her to feel better and catch up.

She was always a take-charge person, never waiting for someone else to make a decision or get the ball rolling. I met her during our first year of x-ray school. Older by 3 years, she seemed to have a world’s worth of experience over me back then. As if she was an expert at life. The first thing she did was suggest that we start a class bank account and hold fundraisers. “For what?” the rest of us asked. “Well, to fund our parties because we are going to need them to get through this program, and also because they said we had to attend conferences and those cost money”. Her and I became quickly close (it was hard not to when you spent 40+ hours a week with a small handful of people.) I stayed at her house almost half the time. We had a million crazy shenanigans together, the stuff of great stories. We studied for our boards together and rode together to go take them. She always had a plan of what we needed to do and how it should all go.

A couple years later we both getting married. She was part of the Ali community before we even knew there was an ali community. She endured several first and second trimester losses, but managed to get two take-home babies that are close in age to my two girls. She almost lost her life birthing the second baby due to some rare complications, and because of that was unable to have the size family they had always wanted. She lost her father not long after I lost mine, and also lost her grief-stricken mom, not in the physical sense, but emotionally. She endured a complete loss of income and scary financial hardships when her children were babies. She had seen her fair share of tragedy, but she never acted like it. She was always streadfast in her ability to push forward, to find a way, to just keep going. Always working toward taking care of her family and making sure they were ok, that they didn’t suffer.

Even through her cancer. She dismissed any concern over how she was doing and feeling as if it didn’t matter because she was fighting to stay alive for her family. She never worried what she might be missing, she only ever worried about what they were missing. She made sure their lives never skipped a beat with any of their activities and school functions. She would have lit herself on fire if it meant it would cure the cancer. I suspect she endured way more plain and discomfort than she ever let anyone ever know. She wouldn’t hear of slowing down or resting. At her memorial, she refused to let anyone help with 95% of it. She was on her feet for hours that day talking to every single person and asking if everyone had eaten, even though she herself had not stopped to sit down and eat. By her seat was a tower of full plates of food that people had made and brought to her that she wouldn’t take a moment to touch, lest she miss talking to someone.

During her last weeks she was struggling because her girls (14 and 17) were beginning to act out a bit, which is completely understandable. But she was determined to be there and continue to talk to them about how bad behavior was not a way to cope. She made sure every last detail was taken care of, and had lists and instructions for her husband to handle all the accounts and payments and doctor things. She scheduled every dentist and doctor appointment she possibly could to make sure things would not be forgotten. She told everyone that she was going to be ok, as long as she knew they were.

I spoke with her often in the last couple of weeks, the last time on a Friday. After a couple of days I checked in again but didn’t hear back. That wasn’t unusual especially more recently because she would have a group of bad days and it would be quiet. Based on how she was feeling I knew she didn’t have much time left. I probably sent three each a couple days apart, the last one being Friday, a week after we last spoke.

I got the call from her husband on Saturday morning that she had passed a couple hours earlier, and he had had her phone and knew I had been reaching out so he told me, but didn’t really care how most other found out. He talked to me about how the end was much, much worse than they had told him it would be, and it was just as bad to wake their daughters to tell them the news. My heart just broke for them all. It’s all just so unfair. 44. She was 44. Her girls are 17 and 14. None of them deserves this. Her selfless way transferred to them because all her husband talks about is how sad he is that she had to suffer so damn much.

I’ve mostly been grieving for how sad I am for her family. For the heartache they feel. For the hole left in their lives.

But then I think about me and how I feel. And how much fun we had together, and how when we did get together we would forget we were adults for a time and how nice and freeing that was. But also that she is one of the only people who knew me before and after. Before adulthood and family and real jobs and responsibilities. Going through that program together, we knew each other in a way no one else really could. She was someone I met young enough where she still was able to learn all of my past and be present for my future; most friends we meet as adults don’t really get to know our entire life history in quite the same way. I’ve been thinking back hard to remember all the stories. She probably remembered some things I had forgotten about. I had found some old pictures I took to her for her memorial (after I got a copy for myself saved onto a CD) and a few I had no idea where they were taken but she did.

I’ve been stuck on the thoughts of that...how she was a bridge between my life then and my life now. And how weird it is that she is now gone. That is where my thoughts and sadness sit, on that bridge, suspended in the ether, still learning from her even after she’s gone.

Vacation: all I ever wanted

We have recently come back from our family vacation. It was nothing spectacular or any grand location, just our usual beach house just outside our usual beach town, but it was the best vacation I think we have probably ever had.

In past years it has just been difficult...the last couple years were teenage attitudes causing so much strife, or sick kids or babies who couldn’t tolerate a more relaxed schedule and late nights, or any number of other things that just made it all feel super stressful getting everyone together and getting out the door each day and not wasting time. I don’t know which combination of things worked together, but it definitely felt like less effort despite doing all the same things. Don’t get me wrong, there was still bickering and the breaking up of sibling fights and the littles still had meltdowns at certain points, but it felt like much less than usual. It could also be that I just expect everything to always be a shitshow, so my expectations are lower than low, so in turn I got to be pleasantly surprised when things went smoother.

We managed to get out the door early on travel day so we arrived early despite still hitting traffic and got a few usual stops done before checking in, so that we were able to have the late afternoon and evening free which hasn’t happened in years past. We swam in an awesome family pool every single morning (where my 3 year old decided to swim without floaties at all!) and went to the beach every day. We ate ice cream every day, sometimes twice, and played on a newly built playground in our vacation community. We fed the fish and the ducks and our little porch squirrels, and we spent plenty of time doing nothing in particular. On the beach I watched the kids play in the surf and sand and breathed in the salty air and watched the waves crash and just enjoyed what was in front of me. We watched a family of dolphins swim incredibly close to the shore, about a wave break away from us. We collected tons of great shells during walks on the beach. We scoped out the sand at sundown for left and abandoned beach toys, and watched the sun set on the beach every night. We fed the seagulls more than their fair share of bread and listened to them call out and yell at each other. We walked the boardwalk in the rain and ate delicious French fries with vinegar. We ate dinner for lunch and ate sandwiches for dinner on the beach every night. We played Punch Buggy on every car ride. We slept in, took naps, and made homemade pizza (with fresh dough from Trader Joes) and a delicious mexican meal of tacos and spanish rice and a 7-layer dip. We left our towels on the floor and our toys strewed around, and I lived out of a suitcase for 7 days and it was heaven. We did almost all those things as a group of 7 everyday, which is a real treat. The only time we weren’t together for is the boardwalk rides that my husband graciously lets me skip because it is my least favorite thing, so I had a couple quiet hours where I wrote my last blog post.

When the week was over we were all ready to go home, which was also new. In years past we felt like we didn’t get enough time but this year everyone was vacation tired and ready to hit the road. We came back renewed and rejuvenated, relaxed, and revived. It was beautiful and wonderful, all of us together. Exactly as it should be.

Let’s talk boobies

I have never had a great relationship with my boobs. I guess it’s always been sort of a love/hate thing going on. I got them early and when they showed up, they weren’t small and cute, not at all. They made me stand out from everyone else who hadn’t even started going through puberty yet. I blame this on karma. You see, I used to grab my heavy-set grandma’s huge bras and put them on and make fun of them when I was little...and don’t you know I ended up with her exact body later  in life. Karma. I swear. Anyway, my boobs attracted a lot of unwanted attention first in the form of teasing and eventually in the form of interest, and I hated both. It took me a long time to get used to even wearing a bra, which I hated so much. I waited until people started telling me I HAD to wear a bra before I ever did. And then it made it hard to find dresses and things that fit my chest and were still modest and appropriate for a tween. Needing an 8th grade white graduation dress that was formal, we had to go to a bridal shop. My mom found the most modest one we could, but even then it was impossible to hide my boobs. It was mortifying on graduation night to have the principal walk down the line as we waited to walk in and start criticizing my dress and saying it was inappropriate and tugging it up higher on my chest. Eventually I started wearing big, oversized shirts and sports bras to help conceal them. It just really sucked. My sister always had small boobs, and so we were jealous of each other, and I always told her she could have them, that I would gladly give them up. That it wasn't great to have big old boobs.

At some point I realized the power they held and I learned to use it if I needed it. I learned to embrace the jokes and enjoy the attention they brought. Being bi myself, I still didn’t really get the appeal but whatever. (Their just sacks of yellow fat*) Pregnancy and nursing did a real number on them, and after my third baby weaned they were left sort of sad looking. I still didn’t really care either way about them. It took a long time in between babies to view them in a sexual way again, which I’m guessing is necessary and normal. While before I needed the most supportive bra out there, now I just needed something to push up and round out all the deflated tissue. Seriously, I joked that they looked like sad deflated balloons. Eventually I got my nipples re-pierced and tried to make peace with them again. Fast forward 5 more pregnancies and nursing 2 babies and yeah...my boobs are definitely not what they used to be, but they are sort of the least of all my body concerns, appearance-wise. They actually look small to me compared to my stomach that just won’t go down thanks to ab separation. But they are there and I know them well.

*As a super side note, please go to youtube and watch Rachel Bloom's gem of a song and video "Heavy Boobs". I needed this song way back when.

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Last week as I go in the car to go shopping for vacation supplies, my daughter grabbed the mail for me. It had come hours earlier but I forgot to check it, so it was around 4pm on a Wednesday. There was the letter from the radiology center, and I expected to find the same letter I got last year from my first mammogram saying all was clear. Except that is not what the letter said. It stated that there was a  “finding” on my images that needed additional pictures and possibly an ultrasound. Now, I am a medical professional and radiology is my field, but that did not help calm the panic I immediately felt. Sitting in my car in the driveway I called the number to try and schedule something, and because of our vacation I wasn’t able to get an appointment for over 10 days away. We did the shopping and I was more than distracted and really irritable and forgot half of what I needed and bought a bunch of crap I didn’t need. I called again when I got home and couldn’t find a location anywhere even remotely near me with a diagnostic appointment available in the next 2 days.

My sister is a mammo tech (not in the same state) and so I spent a long time on the phone freaking out going over every possible scenario. I know “finding” can be almost anything at all that wasn’t on my last mammogram images, so it could be nothing or it could be something. I didn’t have the report to try and further determine what they might be seeing, and I only knew it was my left side because of the scheduler reminding me of no deodorant on the left side. (Deodorant contains aluminum which is a metal and can create artifacts on images) I was shirtless on the phone frantically feeling around my boobs for something, anything, while my sister assured me it was not likely something I’d be able to feel. I feel my boobs all the time. I have never felt anything, ever. I was locked in my room freaking the fuck out and trying to hide it from everyone because I don’t need them to worry too. I was sad, but I was also mad. I spent all of last summer anxious with worry over a situation that ruined  the entire summer and even our vacation, and here we were again about to go on our only family vacation of the year and it was going to be ruined for me. I went around and around with my sister...put it out of my head for my vacation and worry when we get back (hahaHA), if I find out bad news before vacation that’s going to ruin vacation, and on and on. She said a million times “Slow your Roll”. I stressed myself into exhaustion and finally went to bed. I had texted a few close friends I work with and just asked them for prayers to help calm me down. My girls, bless them, said whatever it is we are in this with you.

Maybe this all seems dramatic and over-the-top. Maybe it was. But when I heard something could be wrong with me, like really, really wrong, I was sad and scared and in denial. Sad this was happening at all, sad I couldn't just go on vacation for the second year in a row without a worry, volleying back and forth between thinking everything was ok to believing it was not. My fight or flight was in flight mode, wanting to just run the heck outta town as soon as possible, wanting to not confront this issue at all. I didn't try to think or feel a certain way, it all just came in huge crashing waves I had no control over. I just kept thinking about how my baby is only 3, how nothing could be wrong with me. and then I thought of my dear sweet friend who is nearing the end of her life, and how her babies are only 14 and 17, and it just all got to be overwhelming and real and unfair, and I was smacked in the face with the fact that this very well could be happening to me. It isn't just some distant thing my happening to someone else. It was sobering and scary as fuck.

Quick side note: A long time ago my sister and I decided that if we ever found a lump or anything in our breasts, we would opt for a double mastectomy and be done with it. None of this lumpectomy/try and salvage my breasts bullshit. It’s just not worth the risk of leaving any tissue. My dad has breast cancer, but it was non-genetic. Before we knew that, it was suggested I start having mammograms at age 30, which is usually the recommendation if a parent has had it. Because it was non-genetic (meaning he didn’t have the gene to pass down to me) I could start at age 40, which is the non-risk factor age, and I did.

I thought I would wake up the next day feeling ok, but I only felt worse. As soon as I opened my eyes it was the first thing I thought of.  I called to check for cancellations first thing but got nowhere. I felt myself becoming more frantic about the whole thing. My sister tried to tell me things I already knew...anything that looks different than last year can be a finding. I weight more now than last year so there could be an increase in fatty tissue. I have had another pregnancy, and even unsuccessful pregnancies can cause hormonal changes. Finally, I reached out to a friend and co-worker that also works at that center. She’s an an ultrasound tech who could at least pull my report...or maybe get someone to squeeze me in as a favor??? I send off spastic tech messages. Finally call back the scheduling line while I wait to hear from my friend...they have a 2pm appointment at my friend’s office. Ok. Great. 2pm. But, OMG now I am going to know something in a few hours. How am I going to get through this without crying. I text my husband he needs to go with me. But who’s going to pack for vacation, we leave in the morning? I call my mom and tell her I’m bringing the kids to her, I got an appointment. I start crying, I can’t help it, I am TERRIFIED. I say I want my sister. Ok, I need to get it together this isn’t helping anyone. I go up to shower and get dressed and start throwing random shit into my suitcase. No idea what I am even packing, I am just grabbing stuff as I see it.

I take a long hot shower and actually shave. I let super hot water hit my shoulders  and back. I think about what it would mean if my results are bad. I say I don’t care about my boobs, but is that really true? I realize that if it’s bad, then that’s a definite end to my reproductive years for sure. That treatments would make it so, and it wouldn’t matter because I would lose my only way to feed a baby with my body. I start to appreciate my boobs more than I ever have before. I realize a few moments later that I will miss the sexual part of my breasts as well. I know nerve damage would likely happen and fake boobs aren’t the same. I also pray in the shower for some peace.

After I shower I text my best friend. Can you meet me at 2pm? I have my follow-up I don’t want to go alone. All she asks is the address.

I drop the kids at my moms; she asks if I want her to go. I tell her no, best friend is going to meet me there. I think she feels kind of bad that it’s my sister and then best friend in the order of who I want with me. We meet at the center and I check in. First schedule mix up with spelling of my name so they can’t find me, then they ask for a doctor’s order which they didn’t tell me I needed for a callback??, then asking me for almost $400 towards my deductible which I don’t think is right. I’m already on edge and close to tears, I don’t have it in me to fight and make a scene. They sense this and offer to charge me half and call my doctor for the order. My friend who works there find me and is shocked to see me so rattled.

My friend waiting with me tells me stories (it’s been a couple weeks since we caught up) to keep me distracted. She sits back with me after I get that open-in-the-front gown on and makes me laugh. I am glad to see the tech that gets me is an older lady who has been doing this forever, and it totally comforting when I tell her I’m nervous. (Younger techs are great, too, but this one has been around the block and has surely had her own boobs squashed before) She gives me a lot of info about what they saw before and what she is doing, which I appreciate. It’s by my nipple so I get a nipple marker (a band-aid with a lead dot in the middle that goes over the nipple. Lead absorbs the radiation and leaves a clear space. It’s helpful because nipple tissue can leave a density on images and they use this to rule out nipple tissue vs something else). She places it on my nipple. I have no modesty in me, I’d show the world my boobs at this point. She asks about pain or lumps and I am 10000 percent certain I have none. One picture then back to waiting. My friend is still sitting outside the room. I show her my lovely nipple marker. There are other women in pink gowns in this area. Everyone is friendly with each other and I guess there isn’t much other way to be when we all have our boobs hanging out and getting squashed and are all scared we might have cancer. Everytime the door opens I’m looking to see if it’s my tech. I’m bouncing on the chair and my friend looks me dead in the eye and says we got this, no matter what. I’m not alone and that is what I need to know right now. Eventually it is my tech, and they need another picture. It’s looking like a blood vessel or something bunched up around the nipple so they have to try and smooth out the tissue and take a view that will fan out the slices. This one actually hurts a bit but I am ok with it. She could stomp it flat if it means they can figure out what’s going on in my breast. I’m back to waiting and my friend and I are just being ridiculous and loud telling stories but there is no other way to be when one needs a distraction. Finally the tech comes back and says it’s all clear. It was fibrous tissue around the nipple and I don’t need anything else I can  come back in a year. It doesn’t sink it at first until my friend is hugging me saying it’s ok. I get dressed and my friend who works there comes and gets us and shows us her office. She is as surprised I brought someone. “You are tough as nails, but not about this” she comments shaking her head in sympathy at me. She was already to scan me when she saw my ultrasound was cancelled. I get hugs, text everyone the news. My friend and I leave to go get celebratory drinks at 3pm on a Thursday afternoon. I say a prayer of thanks, because I am well aware how that could have gone the other way.

It was some of the worst 24 hours I have ever had, anxiety-wise. But it was also beautiful in hindsight because I often feel alone, but it was a great reminder that I’m not. I don’t have a group of mommy friends or a village of family, but I have a group of us who have chosen each other. My best friend I met through our kids school, but my other friends are work framily, and I am so thankful for them.

So here is my PSA:

Please, please, please get your mammograms. Every single year. Don’t put it off, and don’t wait. It is not scary, and it’s not really that painful. And check your boobs often!!! Know what they feel like at different times of the month. It’s so damn important!! I know that a while back there was a report that self-exams weren’t needed or whatever, but that it bullshit. You need to know what your boobs feel like so you can tell when something feels different. A general rule is to get your first screening at age 40, unless you have a reason to get it sooner. Yes, it's just one more appointment to make time for. But it is an important one. A screening mammogram takes no time at all. Even for my very first one the entire thing took under a half hour, from walking in the door and checking in to leaving. Most insurance companies pay 100% for a screening, and even if you don't have that coverage (or any at all) hospitals and county programs provide free screenings. Early detection saves lives. And it is WAY better to know going in to one that one year ago you had a clear mammogram, or to know what kind of breast tissue you have, or any other thing. You need a baseline so they know when something is off or when it could have started. do yourself and your family this favor.

Life lately and a furry new addition

I can’t believe I really haven’t written here in so long. I would always feel like I had something to say and then just get stuck. A couple months ago we were dealing with some heavy stuff that would probably have made great posts but I lacked the emotion energy to sort them out in writing.

My mom had a health scare and was hospitalized in March and I felt the full burden of being the only one of my siblings who lives in town. Around this same time I had a few separate teenage parenting issues to deal with that were super stressful and heartbreaking to navigate. In the grand scheme of things they were pretty minor compared to what they could have been, but it still felt extremely difficult while we were in it.

We also had some very wonderful moments too. We took trips to the petting zoo and picked strawberries on the first day of the season. I took 2 quick solo trips (36 hrs and 23 hrs) for my sister’s 50th birthday and for a show in NYC. We spent a fabulous day just the kids and I in DC during spring break. We had a pre-k graduation and next week will have a high school graduation, which is bananas. We are having a party afterwards with more people than I have ever hosted before and we are DIY-ing all of it, even the food. I’m starting a family diet challenge this weekend with several members of my family, because I need something that is going to keep me focused. I have spent less time on myself these past several months than I ever have, and I need to get it together. I know how, I just need support, and at least with my family it will be a lot love vs trying to sell me a product, like a lot of these online “coaches”. Our pool opened last weekend so I am excited to get back there, even if I am less than stoked about putting on a damn bathing suit. I just started a biggest Loser competition with some members of my family, which is going to be fun and probably better accountability than those online “coach” programs, because we aren’t afraid to be real with each other if the scale isn’t movingly can tell each other to do better  in a way that’s harsh but filled with love. No real prize except for helping each other. So far the text chain has been hilarious and heartening. And I found a workout I actually love, it’s called the Be.come Project and it’s online and an app, and it’s a body positive, yoga-inspired workout that works on the mental aspect as well. I have found it very helpful for getting out of my negative body-shaming mindset and it’s been the best thing I discovered. There is a free trial available, so anyone can check it out to see if it’s for them.

But everyone is happy and healthy and all together we are in a great place. I know I tend to only write about the negative feelings anymore, but truly there is so much good happening every day, as I told my girls the other day “We are the lucky ones.”

And finally...we have a new puppy! I didn’t want a puppy, I didn’t plan on getting a puppy. Here’s the quick-ish backstory:

My niece and her boyfriend decided to get a dog. They went to a local rescue and fell in love with a puppy that was 6 weeks old. Due to the age of the pup, this rescue was looking for fosters to take multiple puppies to care for until they were old enough to spay/neuter and then the foster family can adopt after that. She called me crying because she didn’t want to take two and have to give one back to the shelter in a couple weeks but they knew they couldn’t handle two puppies that would grow into 80lb dogs. I wasn’t ready for another dog after losing two in a year and a half. I hadn’t even been able to take my kids to the shelters like they asked because my heart hurt. And after our last adventure raising 2 puppies, we vowed never again to have a puppy. My husband got wind of this dilemma with my niece and so he was like “Of course we will take one.” And I was all skeptical but he got the kids on board and it all went downhill from there. I told my niece to try her best but after 2 days she was like yeah there is no way we can handle two of them. They picked the one they were keeping and brought the puppy up to meet my kids and told everyone that was their dog. The plan was that I was going to meet her the day we could finalize the adoption (1.5hrs from me without traffic) so I could pay my half of the fee, ect. And then she changed her mind and didn’t know how she would split them up at all and it became drama. So I just told her not to involve us because I wasn’t doing the back and forth with her decision or the dogs or having her be all upset over it or wanting the dog back at some point or what have you. So that happened and I just told my kids we weren’t getting the dog and I went on about life. I was a little pissed because she got my kids excited and brought the dog to meet my kids (which was HER idea, not mine!) but then I was out of town for a couple days for my sister’s birthday and got home and went right back to work. The week after I realized the kids (and my husband) were all still upset and bummed out so I told them we would look for a dog. Maybe (probably) not a puppy but an older dog or at least an older puppy closer to a year old. That my niece’s dog wasn’t the right one for us but that we would take our time and find the right one for us. That following weekend my husband took the kids to the shelters (I keep maintaining that he was free to go to shelters and adoption fairs and look and bring something home. I have trouble going in to shelters and wanting ALL the dogs) but they didn’t find anything. Our local shelters had low census (happily!) but told us to look at the websites because they are able to keep them updated. Thanks to petfinders “Pets available near you” feature, I wasn’t even looking for her, but I found her. I saw her face and I just knew she was ours. I put in an application late Saturday night, and we brought her home Monday evening. We have had her 4 weeks now and she is awesome, and perfect and just so smart. She came to us super polite already knowing how to sit without being prompted, and now she knows how to give paw and she learned lay down in a single day! Her name is Leia (as in Princess) and she’s definitely the one for us. I didn’t want a puppy, I wasn’t looking for a puppy, but there she was. And I am so glad we found her.

She is a lab mix and is definitely considered a large breed and will likely weight around 80lbs. She has grown a ton in the 4 weeks we have had her and gained over 11 lbs so far. We think she may be mixed with boxer and possibly german shepherd based on how she looks compared to internet pictures we have searched. I am considering doing one of those Wisdom dna panels to know for sure. The rescue said one of her litter mates that was black and white looked like a hound, and there was another one that was all white with some brown that looked more like ours. There were 7 of them all together but I only know about the ones that were all in the same foster home as ours. But she's way too big for any hound mix and doesn't seem to have hound traits at all so far. Litters can be fathered by different dogs so it definitely makes it interesting trying to figure it out.

It took a little under a week for my other dog to get used to her and for them to start playing together. Now they act like fools tearing through the house wrestling and stealing each other's food and its been SO good for. She was lonely without her sister and it will keep her young. (She is 7) My new pup was born and rescued from the same area in WV and estimated to be born around the same time of year, so they are almost exactly 7 years apart.

 Here is the picture that made me fall in love with her:

                             
and a couple others taken the night we brought her home:

 This is the most recent pic I took the other night. It was late and she was SO sleepy from a busy day of learning new things.

    the first night she decided the puppy wasn't going anywhere. 6 days in.

                                                           
                     reluctant couch sharer.

a rare moment of stillness from them both.

If you knew...

you were going to die soon, what would you do? I mean, we are all going to die and most of us will probably not have advanced notice of impending death. But some of us will get sick and know the end is near. If that was you, what would you do? How would you write your last days?

I know this is morbid and taboo maybe even, but one of my oldest friends is facing that reality, and it has me thinking. She does not want a post-hummus funeral. She does not want her daughters (14 and 17) to be sad. Rather, she wants a “living funeral” where she says goodbye to everyone personally. I don’t know if I can think of anything sadder and more gut-wrenching, for everyone.

She’s probably stronger than me. She has walked though this journey and made it look so easy. She has stayed positive against all odds. And even now, stopping treatments and facing death, she is so graceful. I don’t think I could ever be that way.

I wonder what I would want in my last days. Probably to sit with my family and play every single board game on our shelf, to watch all the movies they want me to see that I don’t have time for right now, to just make damn sure they all know just how much I love them and how damn hard I fought to stay with them, and that I would give all my limbs and a kidney and any other organ I don’t even need if it meant more time with them. To make sure how much my kids know they deserve love and to seek it out and live their best lives because I will be watching them every single moment and will be there waiting for them on the other side. I don’t think I would want to share that time with many other people except my immediate family.

My heart breaks for her for all the moments she won’t be physically present for...the high school graduations, college acceptances and graduations, careers, marriage and babies maybe. And my heart breaks for her beautiful girls who won’t have their mom around for all of those things and for their first heartbreaks and job interviews and just all the life questions you need your mom for. My heart breaks for her mom, because no one should ever have to bury their own child. And my heart breaks for her husband, who I have known as long as I have know her, because of the widowed life he now has to navigate. Like any other Dad and husband I know, he wasn’t the coordinator of schedules and accounts and all the day to day of running a household. But also because they didn’t get nearly enough time together. My heart breaks for the world, because she is truly a light.

I don’t know how you possibly prepare those around you for the fact that your time on earth is drawing near. I don’t know how you tell your mom and your kids that there is nothing more doctors can do, and that you only have X amount of time left. I don’t know how you do that and have it not break your own heart. I don’t know how you do that and find a way to be grateful for the time you have had and not angry for the time you won’t have. And yet, here is my beautiful friend doing just that. And going above and beyond so she can personally say goodbye to all of us. But that’s who she is.

My heart breaks for myself as well.

Untitled

Last week I wrote about how a couple weeks ago my 14 year old daughter came to me to tell me that she is bisexual. It is something I am ok with so long it is something that she is okay with, and so right now it’s really a non-issue.

Although we are Catholic, I have a more progressive view on some issues, as is the Church now, really, especially being led by Pope Francis. But I have also has personal reasons to look at what I believe in regards to this because of some family members, so I have long known where I stood and what my thoughts are regarding this. But this post really isn’t about the religious aspect.

I have spent a lot of time thinking and reflecting on how I can talk to my daughter, like as a parent should we have a more in-depth conversation. I was trying to determine what I might need to address,    and what I could say as some parental wisdom without making her sexuality as issue or make her feel weird in some way. I went to my older daughter to see if  it was more just feelings at this point or she she had been sexually experimenting already, because there are very different conversations to have. The biggest thing I wanted to make sure of is that she didn’t feel broken somehow, or a weirdo or a freak or anything like that.

So I started to really think back to when I was a teen and my relationships before my husband. I have had relationships with girls, I have an attraction to women even to this day. Had I not met my husband when I did, I probably would have continued to date women as well. I just never classified myself as anything, and other then my friends who were around me back then, no one else (meaning my family) knew. Not because I hid it, but because I never felt the need to announce it or declare it, it was just something that was about me.

And I remembered that the group of us from high school, my close group of girl friends, used to say in the most loving way that I wasn’t “normal”. “Charlotte isn’t normal.” Not in a hateful way at all. Just in a funny joking way of classifying me, because I was always different and marched to my own beat and did my own thing, and had weirdo thoughts and liked weird music and really just went against every mainstream, normal thing everyone else is doing. I am still that person, I just don’t notice it as much because of the great big internet and lots of life experiences that we are all our own brand of weirdos really. Back then I just wasn’t afraid to push boundaries or social norms or have relationships because they felt right without having to announce it or label it. Maybe it was a little bit of the 90’s vibe, at least in the greater circle I was in....there was a lot of room to be yourself and not have to have a name for it, and I didn’t know anyone personally who felt tortured by it at all. And I ran around in many different social circles made up with very different people.

But searching for way to help my child, I had to take a look at myself first. And thanks to a couple of very good friends, I have been able to see that although I have been married to a man for almost 2 decades, I don’t exactly identify as straight...that without even realizing I was, I am a bisexual person, I would identify as queer. It’s rather ironic that it would take my daughter declaring her bisexuality for me to name mine. And, in fact, my husband has always told me he thought if we ever split up I would end up with a women...he would joke and tease me about it, but I guess he could see my bisexuality for what it is, as opposed to myself who never labeled it. To be clear...that doesn’t mean I wish I was with a woman now or anything...it just means that I am capable of being attracted to both sexes.

It actually explains a lot about me, in the way I think and feel and process the world around me. It actually goes way deeper than just superficially being attracted to different genders. It kind of explains a huge part of the reason why I have never felt like I truly fit in with anyone, why I have trouble fitting in and making friends, because  it’s all encompassing.

The most ironic part is that when I told my oldest friends about this whole thing, and said to my husband that everything lately made me realize I was bisexual, everyone was like “yeah, duh, we have always known that. I can’t believe it took you this long to say it. Didn’t you know? Lol hahaha”

I guess I always knew. I just didn’t feel like there was any reason to say it. Until now.

broken

All this loss is really triggering something in me. Maybe it sounds odd to some people, but my dogs are like my kids. I love them and they are a huge part of our family. They are my buddies.

And this is soooooo stupid but I have baby fever. Like so, so badly. I don’t understand these feelings or why I am still having them. I wish to God they would just go away. It’s just so beyond ridiculous. Everyone I know is somehow neatly able to tick all that away and say “I am done” and quite literally be done with it. Is something broken in me that I am not capable (clearly) of doing that???

Loss of a pet is directly tied to my own pregnancy loss. The second time that happened, I ended up adopting 2 dogs, and one of them was the one that just passed away. And now I have this huge desire inside of me to nuture something small and tiny. As if my life needs something like a puppy, or hell even a new baby for that matter, but that’s what my heart is telling me it wants right now. Not at all that a dog and a baby are comparable...but they both fulfill the same need in a way.

I feel broken. Why can’t I function like every other person I know? Why do I have to let the dream give up on me, instead of giving up the dream? Why am I broken?

The mouse in the kitchen

Once upon a time we lived in a house that got invaded by mice due to some neighboring construction. We had tried everything under the sun imaginable and googleable, and nothing was working. All along my husband kept saying how we just needed to get a cat. I was always resistant to that because I am not at all a cat person, and we also have a child who is pretty allergic to them. We also had two dogs at this point, one of them being a German Shepard who was still a puppy.

After a while it became clear that we were losing this battle with the mice, so I gave in and we went to a local shelter and adopted a kitten. She was acting crazy, scaling the cage like Spider-Man, so my husband picked her. She was young and tiny, and I swear within the first week of having her she brought me her first mouse.

Because she was so tiny, our vet suggested keeping her separated from our German Shepard for a while to let them get used to each other, because even playing the Shepard could accidentally hurt her. So we kept her downstairs and kept the basement door shut, but they would play with each other under the door all the time. She is a very vocal cat and would always ask to be let up, and we would let her up from time to time to play, but it would get rowdy real quick and we wanted to prevent her from getting hurt.

It didn’t take long for us to stop seeing (live) mice anymore. This kitten was clearly intercepting them from the basement where they were finding their way in.

One day my son (who was probably 5 at the time) came to me and said “Mom, there is a mouse standing in the kitchen.”

“Buddy, mice don’t stand still. I don’t think so.”

He kept bugging me and repeating that there was a mouse standing in the kitchen. I finally got up to go see what he was talking about, thinking he had watched too much Tom and Jerry or something.

Well.

There in the kitchen was a mouse. I don’t think it was standing so much as it couldn’t move, but it was alive. On the other side of the door I hear the kitten meowing and swinging her paws underneath the door.

This smart little kitten found a mouse, maimed it, and shoved it under the door to us, so that we would find it and let her up to finish the job. She didn’t like the door being shut and wanted to come and go as she pleased. So after that, we left the door open, and got a gate so that she could get over it, but the dogs couldn’t get to her or her food or litter box.

Smart little kitten.

Last week

Oh geeze. Last week was rough, you guys. I don’t even know.

The Friday before the weekend (a full week ago) one of my older kids came down sick with the dreaded stomach bug. That weekend, the little boys and I came down with a nasty cold. (Side note, this is what happens when the weather warms up for a day in the middle of winter and everyone who has been cooped up ends up at local playgrounds.) Early Monday morning my husband wakes me up to let me know he is now sick with the stomach bug. The weather was bad and icy so all the kids were off of school, and no one felt well so everyone was cranky. And I had no hope of getting some help since my husband was sick. My daughter got called in to work and needed a ride, and someone broke the wiper of my “new” van trying to clear the ice. Luckily it was on the passenger side so I could still drive and clear the windshield to see.

Tuesday was another day missed of school and another day of a house full of sickness. I found out some disturbing news about my grandfather (dad’s dad) we never knew, thanks to my brother who is doing family research to make a tree. Turns out he was a pimp for the mob who did time in San Quentin before my dad was conceived. No one knows if my dad knew these things, and there is no one alive left to ask.

Wednesday I had two more kids who started with the whole puking/stomach bug thing. By Thursday I had it and had to deal with it alone with 3 kids who were home with it as well. I got to take a nap Thursday evening. When I got up and came downstairs, still pretty sick, my younger daughter decided that was a great time to tell me she is bisexual. It came out of left field and wasn’t something even on my radar, so that surprised me. I just hugged her and told her I loved her and asked if she needed to talk about it, and she said no she was happy and ok. If I had felt better we would have had a more in-depth discussion, but for now that is that.

Friday morning my sister called to tell me my niece didn’t get in to the program she was trying to, and since my niece has been living up here and is with me a lot she asked if I could talk to her and try and help her figure out next steps for a career. I still wasn’t feeling really good, and the lasts of my kids to get sick was home with it as well. My friend called me very upset because her mom is battling cancer, and she is getting conflicting things from doctors and wanted advice and an ear to listen. My emotional reserves are running super low after this, and I wish I had someone to talk to as well.  Friday night when we were trying to feed everyone who felt ok, the littlest boy puked all over the kitchen.

That night my husband wanted to keep all the sick boys in one room with him in case they had trouble overnight, so I got to sleep upstairs. (I usually sleep downstairs when I have to get up earky for work so I don’t wake everyone up with my alarm at 4am.) I slept well and woke up still feeling icky but I made it to work. By the time I got to work and clocked in my phone was going off with texts from my husband to call him, which is unusual, especially so early. My dog who had been sick but was being treated and better died in her sleep and he found her asleep on the couch. He buried her in the backyard. I came home to a very sad and upset house. My stomach still felt weird and I got more nauseous as the night went on. I ended up waking up in the middle of the night really sick again so I had to miss work. I slept half of yesterday and finally started feeling better late last night.

Today I decided to fix myself something good for breakfast and managed to drop my plate and shatter it all over the kitchen, so half of breakfast wasn’t salvageable.

It has to go up from here, right?!?