Monthly Archives: April 2010

Tee Hee!

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I’ve been reading back through my old Xanga archives, trying to find something fun to post today.

What I found was this.  I remember writing it, but I don’t remember realizing how good it was!

This made me smile.

From my Xanga Archives – 12/27/2007

Umm… I wrote a mushy poem.  Why not share it?

—————————————————————————

My love for Brock is never ending,
and it didn’t really start…
I think it’s always been there,
just hidden in my heart.

When I was just a baby,
I think I knew it even then,
I was always meant to meet him,
But had no idea when.

When I became a little girl,
his face was in my mind.
I thought he was a prince or king,
of the most impressive kind.

As a silly teenager,
all the guys I met were wrong.
I even dated some of them,
not knowing all along.

One day when I would find him,
when everything just ‘fit’,
I wouldn’t have to think about
the fact that “this is it.”

I didn’t recognize it,
I guess it wasn’t plain to see,
how much I really liked him,
how much he cared for me.

But somehow we just found ourselves
not able to say no,
not able to just walk away,
not able to let go.

This way we were attracted,
and how it nearly made me sing
…I know now that it was because
I had finally found my King.

Overwhelmed.

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In all honestly, I wrote this blog weeks ago.  Before the Miscarriage. Strangely, things have been better since then.  But the emotions were real, the sentiments were real, and it would be dishonest to let this post sit and gather dust when it was so VERY real to me.

Please know that I’m not in that same dark place I was in when I wrote this.  While I haven’t gotten any sleep, I’m still feeling quite good.  I think some of you mothers may relate to this, if even only a little.

Cheers!

———————————————–

My life defeats me.

Why is this shit so hard?

I can’t figure it out.

Is it hard for everyone?

Or just for pussies like me?

I can’t get out of my own head.

I can’t stop thinking about things that upset me.

I can’t handle all of the things I’m supposed to handle.

How do I not make people mad at me?

I want to be the best at everything.

I want to take the best pictures.

Be the best sonographer.

The greatest mom.

The awesomest friend.

How do I fail at everything?

LAUNDRY NEVER ENDS.

It defeats me.

I can’t stand it.

Why can’t I get up off of the couch?

Why can’t I do the dishes?

Why haven’t I gone to get groceries today?

What is wrong with today?

FUCK YOU, LAUNDRY.

Is it possible to fail at EVERYTHING?

Not good enough.

Never good enough.

My house is constantly disgusting.

How to people keep a clean house?

It’s not my kid.

My house was disgusting before I procreated.

I can’t even find the time to WATCH TV SHOWS.

Plan a baby shower?

Something for Brock’s 30th birthday?

ARE YOU SERIOUS?

Keep my house clean.

Do the laundry.

What for dinner?

It has to be healthy.

Something good for the kid, even if we eat like shit.

Overwhelmed, overwhelmed, overwhelmed.

Is there something more than this?

What am I missing?

I JUST VACCUMED YESTERDAY.

Crap everywhere.

I look around and want to cry.

I don’t dress well.

I never do my hair.

Make-up about once a week.

If I’m lucky.

Should I care more than that?

I need to get out of this house.

I don’t want to go anywhere.

It’s easier to stay.

Where is the motivation to get things done?

Please nap, please nap, please nap.

Mommy loves you, but she can’t stand you right now.

Cry, cry, cry.

Don’t cry, mommy.

If I don’t call you, it’s not because I don’t love you.

I want to shut my brain off.

I want to shut it all down.

I don’t want to think, and feel, and hurt.

Who is a success at life?

If you have everything you could have ever wanted, are you still a failure?

It just feels like failure.

Heavy, heavy, heavy.

Pressing down on me.

I was supposed to be better than this.

I am what I am.

What now?

An Old Photo.

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Marilyn from ALotOfLoves posted a really neat blog today.

The idea was to find the oldest folder of pictures on your computer, and pick the 10th photo in the folder, post it, and write about it.  What a cool idea!  I just had to participate.

So here you have it.

This is the oldest picture on my computer, period.  My photos aren’t organized, and it took me forever to find one that wasn’t recent.

This is possibly one of my favorite pictures of all time.  I love the colors, I love the smiles.  Such a happy new love.

This is from when Brock and I first started dating, together maybe two or three weeks.  We went to a concert at a winery up North, and decided to take a walk around the grounds.  As you can tell, I was a little thicker back then (which everyone says looks good on me.)  There was some blond in my hair, and I miss those glasses more than I could ever admit.  They were the worlds cutest frames.  It was August, and it was hot.

I remember this day because we were walking together, very much in love, ignoring the rest of the world, when we came upon a pretty spot on a bridge.  We were lost in each other’s eyes, and I wanted a picture of us together.  This might actually be the very FIRST picture of us together.  Brock held the camera and took a perfect shot.  About 10 seconds later, another couple came by and asked us if we wanted them to take a picture of us.  We said sure, and posed for the shot.  It turned out horrible.  Same situation, same feelings, same everything – terrible photo.  We returned the favor and took a picture of them together, then parted ways.

I love looking back at our old pictures.  I love remembering the way we felt when our love was fresh and clean and new.  I love doing things to get that feeling back again.

We still feel that happy.  We still glow the same way.  We are very, very lucky.

Not Gonna!

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I don’t want to blog today.

So I’m not gonna!

Here are some pictures to keep you entertained.

“Mr mrf if frll.”

Ronan in a box.  Love!

Blurry, and yet adorable.  Steph, Farah and Ronan.  “Birds!”

Sweet Farah… I couldn’t possibly love this little girl more.

Can you believe I delivered this MONSTER?

And… last but not least… POTTY MAN!

Practice sitting on the potty?  Sure.  He’s got it down.

Sorry for lack of substance today.  Hope you don’t mind.

Something In The Air.

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It feels like everywhere I look, everyone I talk to is going through the same soggy crap right now.

Tons of Facebook statuses like, “My kids are driving me nuts!” and “I can’t take all the whining.”

So many tweets about babies that aren’t themselves, and wishing things would get back to normal.  Complaints of kids that gripe and annoying spouses.

Blogs about how everything feels off, and down, and in a rut.

Is there something in the air?  Is it the pollen driving us all insane?  The gradual change from indoor life to outdoor?  Are we upsetting our miserable routines?

I mean, It’s SPRING time!  It’s supposed to be brightness, and sunshine, and everything new again.  It’s supposed to be wonderous and light.

So far, it’s been pretty crummy.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for things to level out again.  Let’s get rid of colds, and spend more time outside.  Let’s have play dates.  Let’s do summer baking, and try new recipes.  Let’s play games we forgot we played as kids.  Let’s teach our babies how to enjoy running, and swimming and playing.  Let’s share ideas of things to do.  Let’s take LOTS of pictures, because there’s never too many.

Let’s enjoy the spring, because it turns into summer, and then fall, and winter.  Then, before you know it, another year is gone, and you wonder what you did.  Let’s make memories that are worth keeping.

I HATE This Truck.

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Yes, this one.

You might wonder how one can develop a hatred for something so cute and innocent.  It’s just a truck, you say.

This truck makes an innocent little sound when you jam the nose.  ”Chug chug chug chug…” it sounds like a truck running.  And it runs for about 10-15 seconds.  Ronan LOVES it.

Only, he can’t press the nose hard enough to make it work.

So, he picks it up, brings it to me so I can mash the nose, and then walks happily off.

For 10-15 seconds.

And then he starts whining.  He can’t make it work.

Then he starts yelling.

And screaming.

He throws it down, and hits it.

He can’t make it work.

We can have this fit several times in a row, until I take the truck away and set it up out of his line of sight.

Mark.  Dana.  I love you more than you can imagine.

But

I

hate.

Hate.

HATE.

this.

truck.

I Made Some LEMONADE.

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In light of recent events, I think it would have been totally understandable if I had sat on the couch all weekend and felt sorry for myself.

And while that sounds like something I might actually DO, I decided… not to.

I kept percocet’s with me to handle the pain, and a purse full of pads.  I took it easy, and did lots of sitting.  But I did not stay in my house.

Saturday, I went out with Amanda, Dana and Cindy.  They were shopping for dresses for Dana’s upcoming wedding.  I met them at a bridal boutique in Huntersville, and when I walked in, they were all so happy to see me.  Cindy came over and gave me the biggest hug, and I started crying immediately, but I kept a smile on my face.  Then Amanda hugged me.  Then Dana, clad in a beautiful but not-the-one-I-want dress.  I felt lighter just by being with them.  We’d missed going to Mark’s birthday party on Friday night, and I had regretted it so badly.  Seeing my girls quickly made up for it.

We watched Dana try on a few dresses and chatted a little, but none of the dresses were quite ‘perfect’.  They told me about one that she had tried on earlier, at a different store.  She wanted to go back and try it on again, and I wanted to get to see it.  So we drove back up to Mooresville, and went into the cutest bridal boutique I’ve ever seen.  It was entirely consignment run, with gorgeous gowns at reasonable prices.  They also have a custom jewelry designer that will work with you on what you’d like, and her prices are fantastic.  Every single person that worked in that store was friendly, excited, and professional.

Dana tried on the gown that she had liked, and it was PERFECT.  She also picked out a pair of earrings that went beautifully, and I honestly got tears in my eyes.  Here she was, standing in a dimly lit boutique with almost no make-up, no shoes, post-run hair and the silliest grin you’ve ever seen, and she was already the perfect bride.  I am so happy for her.  She also asked me to be in her wedding, which pushed me right over the edge into crying.  I was a bit of a leaky faucet on Saturday.

Later that night, Brock asked his parents to sit for us so we could go out and have a ‘date night’.  We haven’t had one in a while, and the value of a babysitter that doesn’t cost 10 dollars an hour is unspeakable.  I got all dolled up, put on some super fancy clothes and a bit of make-up.  I let myself feel really good about myself.  Ronan slept the whole time, and we went to a movie – Ha!  “Date Night” with Steve Carrell and Tina Fey.  It was really funny, and sweet.  We both enjoyed it quite a bit.

Afterwards, we wanted to stop at the Fox and Hound for a drink, since… well, you know.  But there was a cover charge for fight night, so we came home instead.  We thanked Jane for watching Ronan, and poured each a glass of wine, and settled in on the couch.  All in all, it was really a wonderful night.

Sunday was beautiful, and we decided to pack up early and go to the park.  Ronan skipped his morning nap again, so getting out of the house was the best idea.  I packed a small picnic lunch and we brought a blanket.  I sat in the sun most of the day while Brock chased Ronan around the park.

Nearly an hour later, we brought Ronan home and put him down for a nap.  Brock and I watched some TV, and when Ronan woke again only 50 minutes later, we went to the mall.  Brock wanted to pick up some medicine balls for working out, and I wanted to get my eyebrows done.  We were really only there for about 20 minutes, but it felt good to get things done.

At home, we bathed Ronan and put him to bed, noticing that he was getting a runny nose and quite fussy.  We put him down early because of his lack of naps, and spent just a little time tidying up the house together.  When we sat down, we had cleaned the kitchen, the living room, my closet, and did two loads of laundry.  It felt like so little effort, and we got SO much done.  Brock and I both had such a fantastic weekend together, and spent a lot of great time with Ronan.  It felt amazing to really be together as a family.  I hope for more of that in the future.

Despite all of the bad that happened this week, I have to admit that it ended up being a pretty perfect weekend.

Here are a few pictures from the park.

Miscarriage.

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Such a strange word.  Miscarriage.  To carry something improperly.

I haven’t written because I haven’t been ready to share EVERYTHING yet.  Sometimes, we hold our cards a little closer to our chest until we’re ready to lay them down.

Brock and I decided we were ready to start expanding our family again.  We started trying in January.

Fertile myrtle, I got pregnant right away.  I didn’t even have the chance to get fully excited – the day after I got a positive pregnancy test, I started spotting.  3 days later, I miscarried.  I was at work.  It hurt, physically.  It hurt emotionally too.  But I smiled it off, and said we’d try again.  It was the first try after finally getting my period back, and my cycles weren’t regular.  Everyone gets a do-over, right?  I miscarried on February 14th.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Several weeks later, I still hadn’t gotten another period.  I took a pregnancy test and it was faintly positive.  I waited another week and took another test.  It was also positive.  I went in to the OB/GYN to get checked out, and had an ultrasound.  It showed a 4 week 2 day gestational sac – early, but a good sign.  I allowed myself to start getting excited.  Just a little.

We told a few people – close friends, family… my excitement wouldn’t allow me to keep it in until 12 weeks like I had wanted to.  I had gut wrenching nausea again, and utter exhaustion.  I really FELT pregnant.

Until Wednesday night.  Wednesday night, I started cramping and spotting.  I tried not to panic, because spotting can be normal.  But my heart sank.

Thursday, I wanted to take it easy.  I sat on the couch most of the day, and didn’t over do anything.  By midafternoon my cramping was gone… but so was my nausea.  I went to the mall to spend some time with my dear friends, Nancy and Juliana.  I remember putting on a pad, thinking just in case. The children’s play area was CRAZY with people, so we opted to walk around the mall for a while first.  We went to The Children’s Place, and shopped a little.  I don’t remember the exact moment when I felt a gush, but I knew it was time to go home.  I told Nancy that I had to go, and she walked me to my car.

I called Brock from the parking lot and told him to come home.  He asked if everything was okay, and I said “No.”  He didn’t press me for information, he just headed home immediately.  Then I called my doctor’s office to let them know what was happening.  The nurse told me that it sounded like a miscarriage, and that if could manage it at home, they would call in some pain medication for me.  I could also go to the ER.  I know it’s against the rules, but I still had some percocet left over from when I delivered Ronan, so I said I would stay at home.  I hung up the phone, sat down on the couch, and cried.

I cried because it hurt, and I cried because there was so much blood, and I cried because of the baby that we wanted so badly.  I cried because of the fear that sneaks up and tells you that you wont be able to get pregnant again.  I cried because of the loss of the perfect pregnancy I had imagined in my mind.  I couldn’t stop crying.

Thursday night, I took 2 percocet and 4 Advil, and it still didn’t touch my pain.  Doubled over, tears in my eyes, couldn’t catch my breath pain.  I went to bed early, and slept hard.  My sweet husband took care of me and took care of Ronan… he took care of everything.

For now, Brock and I have decided to stop trying to get pregnant.  My cycles are probably still not normal, and my body is having a difficult time trying to adjust.  We can settle a few things about deciding whether or not we want to move, and what comes next.  I can try to get my weight under control a little, and get back up to some healthy numbers.

And I really don’t think I would be able to handle another one.  Another miscarriage.

So…

We wait.