learning to love me…

so, i, like most other women, have always suffered from the effects of comparing my body to others'.
my legs were never slim or long enough. my torso was too long. my ears too big and they stick out. my nose was a bit too wide and had a slightly upturned end. i always have circles under my eyes. my arms are too hairy. i break out whenever i am unhealthy, which is often. i have always had a big arse and wide hips. even as a kid.
these were flaws (are flaws?) that i saw in myself for ages.
nothing has really changed.
in fact, my hips and arse are bigger. and my stomach is, too.
my skin has lightened over the years allowing all my scars to show and it seems to highlight the excess hair even more.
but one thing has changed.
bit by bit i have been able to not only own, but be proud of each of these once perceived flaws.
those big sticky-outy ears? my husband lovingly calls me Fivel (from An American Tale) and i love it! Fivel was a scrapper and an adorable one at that.
and he likes my arse/hip size/shape.
no. i am not saying that i only like these things because he does...
rather, i decided to embrace these things before i met him. i decided to not worry about them and to own these as features that make up me... that set me apart as me.
and he, too, has done the same.
the eye circles? meh, a sign of my health. the darker they are, the more i know i must take care of myself. 
my nose? i cannot imagine my face with a different nose. i would not be me. i would hate to look in the mirror and see a stranger's face.
my torso is still a long torso, compared to the average measurements, and my legs are still short and curvy... but they are my torso and my legs. anything else would be weird.
i do want to lose a few pounds. but not because i want to change my shape as much as because i want to breathe easier and run more and be able to carry a child to term.
what i want from my body is health.
not someone else's determination of beauty or fitness, but strength and health.
i am a true believer of inner beauty.
i look at people and see what they are. not necessarily how they look.
it is a gift.
ugly people, to me, are those who hate and judge and are vindictive and mean and assert their power over others for kicks.
beautiful people seek to love and understand themselves and others. they spread love and joy and have a peace. they strive to see the beauty in others which, ultimately, serves to increase their own beauty.
i have been reading posts by a beautiful woman, Erin Brown, who seeks to build others up while sharing a bit of herself.
i find her brave not because she is a woman doing this, nor because of her shape or fitness level or beauty. i find her brave because sharing so much of one's self leaves one so very open and exposed. and to open and expose yourself to others is brave.
regardless of whether you are man or woman or gay or straight or bi or the shade of your skin or the amount of hair you have on your head.... regardless of whether you are round or slim or short or tall proportioned like a model or like me... sharing so much of yourself is just brave.
i cannot do that, but i love that some can. and i find it brave and empowering that they do because people like Erin make me look at me and say, "you dunce. why do you hate on yourself?! you are you for a reason! don't change that. love it. make you stronger and more beautiful from the inside out as you are meant to."
i need to remind myself of this each time i go shopping or try on my clothes to go out in public. but it gets easier to do each time. 
the more i do it, the more i accept me for me, the easier it is to ignore the negative self-talk.
the more i exercise this self-acceptance, the more it becomes a habit and not an exercise.

i recently ran into an old co-worker of mine. some ladies at my old job had taken to e-mailing each other about her eating habits and shape/size and she stumbled across one such exchange.
what their own issues are, we cannot say. but their spiteful discussion of this ex-coworker brought tears to my eyes. angry tears.
how could anyone judge her in such a harsh light?! she is a beautiful person with a ton on her plate and a huge heart. she loves her friends loyally. and takes excellent care of her family. when she really smiles, the room lights up a bit more. when she is  truly happy, you can feel it.
how dare they judge anything else about her.
if she is happy with herself, why should anything matter to them?
but their words cut her to her core.
they were ugly and it got to her.
she says it encouraged her to lose weight.
...but i fear it caused her to change her appearance for them. for others she feared might think the same.
and that makes me sad and angry.
she is losing weight. but i hope not too much. and i hope she finds her happy self. her healthy self. and i hope she can just be content with all her body parts and features as i am learning (bit by bit, piece by piece) to be.

as for you?
look at yourself. if you must, write down all those flaws you perceive. imagine yourself with your perfect body. now think really hard. is that still you that you are imagining? or is it a model with your head and face (and a little bit of work done on the face too)?
don't change you. you are loved by someone who would hate to see you change too much.
strive to make yourself beautiful on the inside. strive to be a healthier and stronger you.
but please don't change you too much.
chances are, you are a beautiful person who needs naught more than a good hug and a perfect day to put things into perspective.

we need to stop comparing our looks to others. we need to stop comparing our gifts to others.
if we see something we admire in others, strive for it. but know that our realization may not take the exact form. because we are all so different and beautiful in our own ways.
and we need to learn that for ourselves before we can expect to pass it onto our kids.
this can be our legacy. for better or for worse.
what will yours be?

…yeah, about christmas

the gut reaction
my initial reaction to the holidays (as our baby was due the on january 2nd) was to just forgo the holiday festivities.
yeah, i know. how very bah-humbug of me.
we were counting on being so close to delivery that celebrating was the furthest thing from my mind.

the history
i have always been a lover of the holidays.
from halloween straight through the new year.
i love the autumn colors, the rich palette of colors.
i love the bounty of thanksgiving, the cooking and making of the feast.
i love the searching for *a* perfect gift (no matter how small) for each recipient, the lights and decorations. i love the family gathering.
i love the idea of starting our new year together, no work, no big parties. i love our quiet evening with our boys (the three dogs and two cats) by the fire, a nice movie to watch.

what i think i might do
so, i guess this year i might opt for things to go a little differently.
as i have a new job at a convenience store i will likely end up working on thanksgiving and maybe even christmas, so no big commitments. and i am okay with that.
i may make a few casseroles and even some stuffing for just me and the hubby for thanksgiving. (as my mother is buying the turkey and she can hardly be trusted to find safe food for me -allergies- to eat, i will have to forgo the turkey this year. it's just not in our budget.)
so maybe a small dinner by the fire with our boys and some good music or a movie. and i am okay with that!

for christmas i would love to tone it down.
just stocking gifts and one regular-sized gift to exchange with the hubby.
nothing big. for the stockings small tokens, essential oils, soaps, clementines and lemons... that would be perfect for me. (for him, coffees, sugary treats -i never buy them, popcorn and stuff.)
instead of looking for a tree (honestly, my favorite to date was our little charlie brown tree a couple years ago. it cost $11. i loved it.)

i don't know why, but the smaller and more sparse the tree, the more i love it.
but instead of trying to find a tree i love, instead of taking that time and energy, i am looking at just stringing up lights. ...maybe into a christmas tree like pattern. ...and maybe i'll hang some ornaments off the lights.
like this, but smaller and with some decorations:

maybe i will use some of the new essential oils and the new diffuser and my extensive music collection to create a relaxing atmosphere that smells and sounds like christmas.
maybe i will do less, but try to enjoy more.
i love wrapping gifts. it is my absolute favorite thing to do. but maybe this year i will volunteer to do that for my mother. 
maybe i can get to the library and get some books to read by the fire with my music and incense.
maybe i can get some fancy tea or make some extravagantly flavored hot chocolate to sip.
maybe i can spend a bit more time cooking meals for us, and less out finding that gift or decoration.
maybe this year we can scale down everything.
and maybe this will satisfy my craving for christmas spirit while allowing me time and privacy to weep for what almost was, if need be.
maybe this will help remove the pressure of the whole big happy christmas festivities!
...maybe...

to be blunt...

do you know what multiple miscarriages can do to one's sex drive?

here's a hint.
that whole feeling female empowerment seems to wither with each loss.
i feel anything but sexually empowered when my body keeps killing our babies.
i feel like i am broken inside.

but by all means, jump my bones.
what's the worst that could happen?

i could get pregnant [and lose another baby] again. that's what.

but hey, maybe that's just me.
maybe i just need to not think about it anymore. ever. at all. 
except, i don't think i am wired that way. it is always in the back of my head.

so, yeah.
i think i am broken inside.
and i'm not sure how to fix me.



#miscarriage  #multiplelosses  #femaleimpotence  #impotenece

wishes and the wall

having no idea about what to write, i asked a friend.
his suggestions were wishes and walls.
to that end, i will take this as i would have taken an assignment from a favorite teacher or that professor in college and run with it.
and i will make it mine.

wishes
we all have them.
some are outlandish; others are attainable.
some are for material things, some for wealth, standing, position, love, sex... the list goes on.
mine are for children and a comfortably simple life off the grid.
children who grow up seeing people for who they really are.
for the beauty, or lack thereof, inside.
children who see and seek the truth in all things.
my wish was for 5 such children.
as luck would have it (or perhaps it was the universe in a sick display of fate) i have had 5 miscarriages.

i had one wish. it started years and years ago, and grew... and i let it grow... and nurtured that desired. and my husband and i worked toward that end. ...all to no avail.

wall
...and now i feel that wall, the one i had built up around my heart when i first met him, being built up brick by brick once again.
i tore it down.
i let him in.
i let myself dream. hope. wish.
i let myself believe.
and with each failed pregnancy, i felt another brick, another stone put in place.
and i want so badly to tear down this wall.
to let him in.
but part of me thinks he may be more comfortable with the wall than he is with my raw emotion.
some of me believes the wall is giving him some sort of respite from dreaming of children (and the expenses that come with them) and a happy houseful (and the cost of maintaining it)...
sometimes i fool myself into thinking this wall is just as much for him as it is for me.

...but i know,
i know deep down,
that this wall is for me.
it keeps me safe from hope and dreams and so i sit back and watch as the stones are placed carefully, for the strength and integrity of the wall must withstand much at this point.

maybe one day down the road, it will come down.
maybe one day i will feel like i can let emotion back in.
but for now,
for now i am okay with logic, facts, and reality.
nothing else need intrude for the time being.
my wall will see to that.

in defense of my [self-imposed?] misery

i cannot seem to shake the cloud.
it is dark and seems to block the happiness.
there is enough joy and beauty in the world that some sneaks through every now and again.
but every kid, every mention of family vacations or holidays seems to remind me how much stock we can place on the promise of something to come.
and if that never comes?
what then?
most people try to [politely] tell you to just let it all go.
just accept that it was never meant to be.
but when is that magical moment that the promise of seeing your kid grow and become an adult and have kids of their own, when does that go from a ridiculous assumption to something that others can recognize?
is it at birth?
is it when they reach the age of toddler and start to exert their own free will?
is it when they are older?
if not when you have that little picture of them growing inside you, if not when you first hear their heartbeat, then when?
because i challenge anyone to try and tell a parent who has lost their [born] child to just get over it.
and (this i know from experience) it matters not if that child is 12 or is 34. 
parents will always miss that child and the promise their child had... even if they are an adult when they passed.
so then, why is it so hard to understand that someone with a child on the way might have had plans for the upcoming holidays that had nothing to do with them and everything to do with that promise?
why can people not see that every time they see parents holding new babies and parents playing and laughing, and even struggling with their willful children, that it might cause some pain to someone who was looking forward to all of it. the good, the bad, and the ugly?
why can people say to an expectant mother that this was nature's mercy, but won't dare say that to parents who just lost a 12 year old?
why can people say that that baby was probably deformed or disabled and would have had a difficult time in this world, but if an adult with disabilities passes, everyone is in agreement about the hope and joy that person brought us all?

these are inconsistencies i cannot wrap my head around.

as i face the first christmas* on record that i do not look forward to, how can i make it clear to others pestering me to be happy and joyful that this christmas was supposed to be so much more? it was to be days away from the birth of our promise.
as that promise is gone, memories still linger and [unwittingly] pop up at the most inopportune moments.
and we are reminded how little our promise meant to anyone else.
or so they would have us believe.



*note - traditionally, i start my countdown to christmas in august... because then only two months to halloween which is almost thanksgiving which begins the christmas everything....

once a week

so, i think, though i have made this promise to myself before, that i have decided to write something here once a week.
i've decided that can be anything.
a random thought.
an observation.
a rant.
whatever.
but something.
just anything.
i used to write for hours a day.
and if not writing, i was drawing or reading or playing violin or piano.
(music is always playing at my house)
but now, music is it. i just listen for hours. 
and sometimes i read.
but most of my time is spent on the internet.
reading up on news, catching up with people and watching firefly or merlin or harry potter...
i have been using the internet and my computer, in general, as a means of escaping real life.
which isn't bad if i did it in moderation, but i haven't.

so, now, i think i will try to hold myself to about once a week. when the mood hits.
and hopefully the mood will hit more often as i pick this back up again.

the official bit of today's post
Ferguson, Missouri.
GAWD, that place is really in turmoil.
(that could really be said about our nation, in general... or even society as a whole.)
but the police, in yet another documented act of unwarranted aggression towards citizens, shot an young, unarmed man in Ferguson.
what the media is playing up is his race. as if that is somehow the catylist. 
(to be blunt,) fuck that.
i don't care if the person they shot was white, indigenous, asian, black, latino, purple or a fucking little green man from outer fucking space.
they. shot. an. unarmed. citizen.
again.
seriously.
how could police not think that this wouldn't eventually bite them in the arse?!
that said.
protests - i am all in favor for. as far as i am concerned, every damn citizen, no matter their race, should have taken to the streets over this. 
in peaceful protests.
rioting? mmm, yeah, not so much. looting?  fuck no.
both of the latter options reek of crowd psychology... that whole crowd mentality?
you know: that thing everyone loved in highschool pep rallies when everyone got so riled up because school spirit.
not really school spirit.
i mean, did you really think that your school was that awesome?
or was it more that you were whipped into a frenzy because others were doing the same?
because i felt rather like an outsider because... well, i was somewhat immune to that.
i faked it at times. (it was exhausting!)
but that is what happens at rallies.
just look at the emotional reactions at both pro- and anti- 2nd amendment rallies!
"save the children!"
"because constitution and 'merica!"
(don't even get me started on what i think of the pledge of allegiance)
the people of Ferguson are so emotionally charged (and with good reason) that all it takes is one trouble maker to get them riled up enough to get violent. and with businesses and people who have no bearing on the situation.
that shit bothers me.
that is why i avoid participation in so many things.
i hate how everyone pretty much ends up sharing one thought and acting on it.
well, no... i suppose if i was alive in MLK, Jr.'s day, i'd be all in on a peaceful protest.
marching, holding others accountable by being present day in and day out in order to draw attention to your cause (i mean, look at that cindy sheehan woman protesting in front of the white house a few years back) is the way to go.
stepping in (peacefully) by recording and vocalizing your dissent when an officer of the law goes too far is the way to go.
whipping a crowd into a frenzy to beat down said officer? not so much.
that said, we are back to the fact that the police (generally) deserve this. they (again, generally) have been overstepping their bounds for too long.
they've been beating up 70-something year old men who were suffering from diabetic attacks,
they've been tasering deaf men having diabetic attacks,
they've been breaking people's arms when they don't immediately stop having their seizure as ordered to do so by the cops. (the fuck?!)
(and please don't get me started on how they treat the family pets!!!)
tasing people and attacking people and shooting people who resist arrest.
who are being arrested... for what exactly?
well, never you mind, they can figure that out after they slap a resisting arrest charge on top of... whatever it was they were doing. ...or not doing.
that is the greatest problem.

so, militarization and mobilization of the police force in Ferguson?
just going to make matters worse.
it will just make more people angry.
and it just solidifies our (the people's, general) belief that the police are no longer here to protect and serve, but the police are, in fact, the enemy of the people.
and that, dear government, is NOT how you want the general or popular opinion to fall.

is there an answer?
not an easy one, that's for sure!
they could start (nationwide - though police unions would take issue with it) by suspending without pay any officer who is involved in a questionable incident.
and they should definitely get outside involvement to investigate such incidents.
and they should publically apologize and take responsibility for the shooting of the innocents.

and as for us?
for crissakes, people, google jury nullification!
educate yourselves!
good gawd, when you are called in for jury duty, consider all the evidence and then ask yourself who the victim of the supposed crime was.
was it a person?
a private citizen?
was property stolen? trashed?
or was the "state" the victim?
was it just a violation of a law on the books, yet no one was injured?
if the last two fit the bill, acquit.
find the alleged criminal not guilty as there is no real crime.

know your rights when you are stopped by an officer.
respectfully decline all searches.
answer no questions.
request an attorney.
and know about jury nullification.

honestly, nothing will change (we will just continue in a downward spiral) until we educate ourselves and allow logic and intelligence to beat out raw emotion.

i feel for this young man's family.
i cannot imagine.
but i highly doubt that rioting and looting are helping them deal with anything in the long run.

the nickname

i've always been a klutz.

and prone not only to accidents, but also, to being the one person caught while surrounded by others engaging in the same activity.

bad luck?

clumsy?

who knows.

definitely awkward.

first appearance of nickname

the just weeks before my first christmas at my [now husband's] family's house, i was talking to his mom when my shoulder somehow knocked a ceramic santa off the shelf.

i tried to catch it several times on its way down... 

as it banged against the wall and my ribs, hips, knees

until

somehow with my stocking feet, i managed to catch it

...inches from meeting its doom - the floor.

my future mother-in-law was terrified (the santa was a keepsake from her long since passed grandmother) and amused at how it all went down.

she said i was calamity prone.

my future husband told her she hadn't seen anything yet.

sealing the deal

that same christmas, my first with his family, i knew i loved not only him, but his family, and i let my guard down.

i sat in the chair designated for me next to the tree.

this was about 10 minutes after knocking all the stockings off the shelf.

i was asked to grab a specific gift and pass it.

i leaned over from the chair i was in, 

grabbed the gift,

the chair started to fall over,

i caught it and righted it...

and i fell against the christmas tree

and it started to go down.

i reached, as did my future father-in-law and a future brother-in-law, for the tree while my future husband sat amused and mother-in-law looked on in both amazement and horror.

the tree only lost a few ornaments

the whole family (both parents, all three brothers and their lady-friends, and my future husband) just stared at me.

"that was close."

it was all i could say.

"from now on, i am just going to call you calamity jane. i mean, i honestly don't know how you do it!"

my mother-in-law's nickname has lasted over 10 years now.

and honestly, it is so much nicer sounding than my own mother's nickname for me growing up:

"moosehands"

"you ruin everything you touch. do you even realize you're doing it?!"

-cj

and while we were here  - reflections on the 2012 film

i just watched this film. 

and sadly, i know all too well how true this story feels. 

within a marriage, even one not hastened by situation or necessity, there are many struggles, money being one of the best known. 

but that whole childbearing thing? it bears much weight. 

and it can be a smothering weight. 

with the husband often not acknowledging the pain or consequences after a miscarriage (or multiple miscarriages) but with the woman feeling lost... 

and that silence, that inability to get past it, or to discuss it, that lack of closure (because i don't know if that ever comes) is a huge stress on any marriage.

while all the reviews out there tout a loveless marriage as the backdrop, i would disagree. 

it is not a loveless marriage.

leonard, while emotionally blocked off, loves his wife. 

he just does not allow himself to let go long enough to show this love.

and her feelings of invisibility stem from his inability to really look at how this situation has effected her. how it has effected their marriage. i would surmise that this is because it would make him emotionally vulnerable and that is not a trait traditionally prized among men.

but it is necessary within a marriage.

one must make oneself emotionally vulnerable if one expects to survive the storms that can plague marriages.

and while i could never leave my spouse (he really is a good and beautiful man). while i could never forsake the promises i made him in marriage, and while i really just don't see me having any sort of affair or even tryst with a younger (or any other) man.

i do wholely understand how the character, jane, feels. i understand her feelings about her body. her almost inability to look at herself in the mirror. her feelings of invisibility where her husband is concerned. her need for love, affection, and understanding. her need to talk about the whole thing. her need to deal with it or else run.

i have felt that urge to just run away. to just leave all this crap and heartache behind.

but there is so much more. there is also love, laughter, moments of joy, small shared moments, our dogs (we love them like kids), our families (i really love his), our life together. and i know i could never leave all that because of this pain.

it doesn't fix things.

and bosworth's character's confrontation of her husband 70 minutes in was spot on. it wasn't over done or under done. not too much drama and not lacking emotion. just that exasperated quiet hopeless rage that tends to accompany fertility issues and their baggage especially if left unspoken.

as for my life? 
i know we still need to communicate more. we still need to get to that emotionally open place. but i am confident we will. and i am confident that time will show us how. that all will be revealed in time.

somehow.

i have to.

to do otherwise, that would either leave me in a "loveless" marriage or else wandering from relationship to relationship waiting for the mythical unicorn of relationships to fix all the things.

and that is just not reality.

update on doctors post

got a bill today (again) for the 'procedure' done last month.
the last one was just an amount with a note that i had no insurance.
this one stated that i had an abortion.
the fuck?!
they spent all that time trying to tell me it was nothing like an abortion because technically an abortion is the ending of a viable living fetus. (still not a baby, though.)
they told me as the baby was dead it is technically not considered an abortion.
why the fuck, then, am i being billed for an abortion?
son of a mother fucker.
can you tell this has me upset?
maybe a little?

doctors and a long story grossly condensed

april
end of the month, was not feeling great. massive sinus infection. but also felt odd. off, but not in a bad way. (always been unhealthy and "off" has never been a good thing) i just felt oddly off.
realized i was a week late.
took a test.
faint positive.
a week later feeling more off, waking up every day at 2:30 or 3:00 am. dead tired by 5:30 or 6:00 pm. trouble breathing, but not in the usual asthmatic way. nor the usual sick way.
took a second test.
the positive line came up before the control line did.
holy shit!
first time it went from faint positive to positive (usually goes to negative).
doctor confirms.
elation.

may
lots of health issues. many visits to doctor.
new job with physical demands.
deemed "high risk" by docs because of previous history of mc and age (over 35).
hubby and i got to see heartbeat at first ultrasound to determine pregnancy was a go.
told about abnormally large cyst on ovary. tortion may be a complication.

june
still waiting for that specialized care they promised. no one caring that i say something might be wrong. told it is just my nerves. my vitals are fine. everything is fine. take this and you'll be fine.

end of june
after throwing a near fit at doctor for no one listening to me, was given impromptu consult with doctor on hand who specialises in high-risk and fertility issues.
he explained everything then questioned why i had not had a second ultrasound yet.
(thank you!)
ordered ultrasound as soon as i could come back in.

her face
11 weeks on monday and the look on the ultrasound tech's face was peaceful and neutral. they always are. i could see her comparing size and positioning of ovaries (monitoring growth of cyst and looking for signs of tortion).
i could see the screen.
caught glimpse of baby onscreen.
last time he or she was moving.
.  .  .
she bit her lip and quickly repositioned screen so i could not see.
gone was the neutral expression.
i felt a panic i cannot explain.
along with this need to hold onto hope.
just wait, i told myself. just wait until you hear back from the doctor.

tuesday
on break at work, text from hubby and three missed calls from doctor.
listened to message from doc.
no heartbeat.
baby died, it appears, 3 weeks prior.
remember that time i went in and said something didn't feel right? that was at 8 1/2 weeks.
because of risk of infection and because my body is still, idk, thinking it is pregnant, they "need to perform a d&c to remove the fetus..."
i had to finish my shift that night.

wednesday
at doctor's office.
trying not to start sobbing. again.
nurse bringing me in has not read file or taken the time to see why i am in.
cheerily asks my how i am doing and how the baby is.
i could wring her neck, but as i answer her, in the most civilized manner i can, "he, or she, died. it's why i am here. is that not in your file?"
she shuts up. actually looks at my file and is quiet as she takes my vitals.
a newborn next door starts screaming and i lose it.
my nurse rushes out of the room with a "the doctor will be in shortly. i'm sorry."
i hear her speaking with the nurse or doctor in the next room and they have momma pick up the baby "please," they say, "just calm her for a bit. if you don't mind we can do this bit in a little while?"
the doctor goes over everything she said on the phone again. and again.
she already did this 4 times on the phone the night before.
the added bonus (did she just say that?!) of the d&c is that they will have valuable tissue for the genetic testing to see what is wrong.
don't worry, it should be covered.

thursday
get up early.
how can i sleep?
shower.
(sorry, doc, you get unshaved legs because i don't give a fuck what they look like to the guy scraping my dead baby out of my uterus.)
grab something easy on the stomach for coming out from anesthesia - i always get sick to my stomach after not having eaten for ever and g-f me cannot eat their damn crackers.
yes, everything gets under my skin at this point.
check in.
pregnant women and families visiting just delivered babies everywhere.
happy fucking thoughts.
health history with nurse.
she marginalizes everything.
but somehow manages to almost come off as if she is sympathetic.
it must be a gift.
i wanted to punch her in the face and cry on her shoulder all at once.
she keeps calling my dead baby "tissue."
the anesthesiologist tries the same thing and i correct him, "you mean my baby?"
he is silent for a moment, looks at me, for real this time, and takes my hand and says how sorry he is.
i break down for the, i don't know, 8th time (?) that morning.
doctor comes in.
says he was not aware he was saving the tissue for testing.
explained the procedure.
i corrected him, too.
he rejected my correction with the ever professional, "actually, it is just tissue. it's not a baby until later in its development."
well, thank you doctor asshole. now i don't feel so bad.
fucking mother fucker.
i said nothing.
nurse comes back in with form for fetal testing.
"well, the doctor didn't know this was being done. you do know that none of this testing is covered by insurance, right? never is. and it costs thousands of dollars."
what i should have done, what i now wish i had done, is rip out the i.v. lines they started, gotten dressed, and left.
i just cried and asked my husband what he wanted to do.
at a loss and feeling completely devoid of power, we signed other consent forms, but declined the testing.

coming out
hazy
vaguely aware of nurse asking me how i feel
i realize what has just happened and cannot stop sobbing
she commands another nurse to grab my husband
tells him to hold my hand and talk to me
i am still sobbing
i cannot stop

...a month later
i still wake up sobbing sometimes.
feeling like i did when i came out of the procedure.
i know many of you think that 11 weeks is too early to become attached.
too early to consider it a baby.
but we did.
we saw his or her heartbeat.
and i let some random guy (big whoop, he had a medical license) scrape that baby out after saying he or she had been nothing more than tissue.
not sure what to feel.
...or think.
still trying to deal with the whole thing.
both on a logical level and an emotional one.
that is one of the things i like about me.
i love logical. i love to look at things from every angle.
and i love that i can be emotional.
i love that i empathize with others on so much.
they both do a service to the other - the logic of seeing things from every angle allows for empathy to kick in and the empathy feeds the logic - of course so and so reacted that way, it may not *seem* logical, but they acted on their feeling which was [this].
but the two of them just make working through something like this take longer.
i can see every angle and feel like i am arguing with myself in circles.
(no i am not actually arguing with myself and no i do not need to see someone about my two selves)

sometimes this is just how i work through things.
just writing everything out.
or, though it felt like a long post to you, the small tiny bit of everything that matters.
because this story, was so much more than this.
there was so much more hope, more struggles, crazy obstacles (health and money) that we had to work through... there is so much more to this story...
but that is for another day.
maybe.

back to doctors
i think, from my (sadly) vast experience with doctors, that doctors, though they usually are very logical, need a lesson in empathy.
oh that you could teach empathy to another.
[sigh]
that doctors could see what their patients are really struggling through.
that they could, for a moment, put themselves in their patients' shoes and understand where the fear or anger or feeling that something is wrong is coming from.
that they could think about that woman with a history of mc who "needs" the d&c and consider what that might do to her.
or, perhaps, they might at least assign her to a surgeon who does not minimize her pain and suffering.

is that what we are here to do?
minimize other's pain and suffering by trying to marginalize their experiences?
i would think the better more effective method would be to try to see things through their eyes and attempt to comfort them and get them through it.
but that might, in turn, make us uncomfortable. god forbid.

i guess i just expect more of people.

random thoughts

my random thoughts are funny to me because in almost all instances, they are actually said out loud... to my dogs.

wait, so i *am* an introvert
throughout my childhood i was a great talker. i would talk to anyone. and adults didn't phase me in the least. 
they all told me what an extrovert i was.
thing was (still is) i never felt like an extrovert.
i talked to people as a means to an end. to gain insight, glean information, get opinions...
but i never *loved* talking to people or having attention focused on me. 
(i wanted them to listen to, to really hear what it was i was saying... or, rather, what i meant to or wanted to say. but i didn't want the focus to be me.)
and though, still, i can be great with people, and i like them, generally speaking, i tend to feel utterly and completely drained after i have been interacting for more than a few minutes.
and the longer i interact, the more aimless my side of the conversation and the more difficult it is for me to extract myself from said conversation.
honestly, i think that social interaction with me must cause some sort of pain in others.
if only on an empathetic level.
(i mean, if given the perfect situation, the perfect conditions, i could, potentially, sit and converse for hours with the right person or group of people, but those conditions are seldom found.)
and the more i consider it the more i find that i am actually an introvert.
i am not shy. but i am not an extrovert.
but to my three dogs, i can find what i struggle to say to people in the flesh.
they don't judge. (okay, sometimes it feels like they do, but i know, i hope they are not.)
they are my sounding boards. and those three dunderheads are the best damn sounding boards a girl could have.

today's random thought:
i don't want to go to the store.
sure i have nothing left to eat, but the store has people.
and i am likely to run into somebody i know.
and then i'd have to interact with them.
and i don't wanna talk to them.
maybe i can wake up earlier and go tomorrow before real people get there.

yep.
i am avoiding going shopping for things i need because people.
because i just don't want to have to interact with anyone.
is that completely pathetic?
or has anyone else ever felt that way?
ah well.
invisible girl, so, y'know, no one actually reads this.
(except you posters of spam - do you guys have anything to say about this?)