October

It's 630am.  I awoke exactly at 5am. Unable to sleep any longer. This is a hard day for me. I slept horribly.  Every. Single. Thing. Woke me up. I haven't worked in almost 3 weeks. And Lord I'm scared. 

I've been here before.  One could say that I've built a home here. At age 17 I stopped by for a short visit. I remember I called the nurse "peppermint patty" and the whole room erupted in laughter. 

At 18, it wasn't so funny. At 21, I made the decision myself. I believed it was the best thing for my life at the time. 

After turning 27, dealing with a semi-broken marriage, my Lord, who knows what is best for me decided that the timing was off. I was too broken. The very next year, same month (October) at 28 years of age, low and behold, my brokenness had not yet healed and things ended.

I'm 36 now and starting to see a pattern here.  October is a very popular month for me. It brings me a new year of life. My sister, nephew, father(s) as well. Countless relatives share October birthdays but October for me is when winter stealthily churns into spring.

There is a saying, every pregnancy is different.  How right they are. But I never realized until this month that every miscarriage is different. Sure the main medical issues abound - a baby is lost.  But the process of that loss can vary from time to time. 

This time around, I am in a place of isolation. All around. No close family nearby. No "real friends" that actually care enough to come see about me. Nothing. Who, on their birthday, can seriously deal with the knowledge that they are carrying around a fetus with no heartbeat and NOT feel like dying?  And to top it all off, not one single person (EXCEPT my mother) wished me a happy birthday on Facebook!  As if that means anything. It doesn't.

So as I sit here, typing this post, unable to sleep, waiting to go to the hospital - I dread this dilation and curettage. As I know, that once this is done, it is truly over. And you know what is so wrong but funny at the same time, I thought to myself, "Cool, I can have a drink on my cruise to celebrate 8 years of marriage."

Is that right? Of course it is. Am I being SELFISH???  No. I am human after all. At various points of our lives we find ourselves in situations and trials that seem to overtake is. These trials sometimes bring the darkness into our lives briefly as we forget that it is God who is in control, no one else. 

Miscarriage - oh that word. That word is like my silent sibling - kicking my butt secretly as I yell out to my father in objection, that it isn't fair. Did I do this? Should I have quit my job? Have I been too depressed? I mean, Lord you gave me my son - in October 2013 - what did I do now, I whine.

NO! This period of testing has just begun and we would like to think the instructions for this test are comparable to that of a test given in school or online. But oh, contraire. God gives only one instruction that covers all - Have faith.

God is with us throughout.  He may be silent but he is still there. He wants to know that everything he has put in us will be put to good use.  

So why should I allow the enemy to steal the joy that I have? I wont. How can I look at my daughters and son and not smile with utter happiness? I can. And why would I believe that the Lord is somehow punishing me for my past sins when his word says, that he has cast them as far as the east is from the west??? I shall not.

So, I will trust in him with this surgery. Not fall into despair. When I feel like crying, I will but I will remember that my joy is still within. I have a husband, 2 beautiful daughters and 1 handsome little boy that need me. 

I will come though this, smiling and praising the Lord. 

Throat Tears and Bumpy Chins

Last night I had a bad dream. I was pregnant. I was so excited. I thought, finally, another chance at it again! My dream ended with me taking a pregnancy test.

The test was negative.

I woke up with tears in my esophagus and my lungs tight with asthmatic heartache.  It was 4am in the morning. 

Not only was it just a dream but my dang lungs were only working at like 75%.  Wheezing like a teapot calling for relief.

Every month it's the same thing.  I check my Woman's Log on my phone, look at the little flowers dotting the days.  They represent when I am supposed to be ovulating.  I don't really track whether or not I am in "get me pregnant" mode but I always rush to my phone to track the days when the sudd-muffin and I get together.

A quick squeeze to my boobs - check for soreness.  A fluttering of fingers over my chin - because after losing one of my Fallopian tubes, I now get acne on my chin every month when aunt flow visits.  There was one bump there.  Of course that could be attributed to the Little Debbie brownies I ate this week.  Little Debbie and not Hostess - couldn't find any dang chocolate icing donuts! 

Didn't need them anyway.

I also pay close attention to my attitude: am I a bit snappy?  Did that librarian really piss me off? Is my sudd-muffin a little too touchy right now? Did Rina's blonde moment NOT bring a laugh to my lips?  Did my sudd-muffin just give me one of those breath stealing kisses and my laughter bubbled and fell hard against his lips causing him to back away slowly in disgust?

Yes, si, Ja, Haji and yep.  It's like I took TWO pregnancy tests in one day.

Therefore, Aunt Flo is right around the corner. 

I have a plan though.

I'm going to elope. I'm going to eat lot's of period delaying foods as well as embark on a herculean athletic mission. To further delay Aunt Flo's arrival. 

Then, I will use Bing's search engine (because I need more Bing points to buy Starbucks gift cards) to look up herbs I can ingest to FURTHER delay Aunt Flo's infamous anchorage on my butt, belly and hips in the form of bloating, increased desire for junk foods and extreme fatigue.

Finally, as my body waves a long goodbye to Aunt Flo's retreating back with my middle fingers of all things, I will crawl under by bed covers.  I will purge by letting this emotional dam break to flood my pillow and mattress with the postpartum depression laced tears that have wed in the pools of my tear ducts for the last year.

Or better yet, I'm gonna just eat an Entenmann's chocolate doughnut and succumb to the inevitable. 

It all sounded fun though. 

In the middle of this post my sudd-muffin must needs to know what the heck Pit Bull means when he says "Dale". 

I could only laugh out loud as he slides his hands up and down my arm and repeats the phrase...."Dale"......- unbeknownst to him the content of this blog post.

I love my life.

Give it away, give it away, give it away now.

I thought I had a give-away.....*sigh*.  My mother-in-law was just as excited about Baby Aiden as we were.  She bought my sud-muffin, Rina and I all gifts in anticipation of Aidens arrival from Cafe Press.

When she found out about Aiden she made Garrett promise not to show me but I wanted to see.  Had to see.
We all got T-shirts....saying Daddy To be May 2010, Sister to Be May 2010...you get the idea.

Garrett wants to keep them though....so we will.