I love to volunteer for things. Love it. I'm often told I don't know how to say no. Those people obviously don't know my husband. He'll be the first to say I do know how and use it often.
I'm almost always the first one to jump in and offer to help. Occasionally, this gets me in over my head. Sometimes, I have to sit on my hands so I don't embrace a new opportunity. I've always enjoyed helping. I'm a people pleaser. Yep, there it is in b&W just in case you haven't figured it out. When I am able to help people I feel better about myself. I feel fulfilled. Who doesn't want that?
I've held a lot of different official volunteer positions. Some I enjoyed, some not so much. Some left me feeling like I made a difference, some left me exhausted.
In 2012 I found my volunteer home. I had been interested in becoming an advocate with the local rape crisis center for years but the stars didn't align until March of 2012. It seemed like it was going to be perfect, I remembered to call and express my interest prior to the start date of the new certification class. This was the first sign that things were right. Over the previous few years, I seemed to always call mid session. Next, I answered my phone when they returned my call. That is an amazing feat in itself. I despise answering my phone. I absolutely refuse when I don't know the number. I managed to complete the application, opening up about my past and figuring out references that would build me up as professional, helpful, considerate and strong (stable). Then, lastly, I made myself available for the nearly 50 hours of certification. Yes, I now hold the esteemed title of Sexual Assault Counselor! I'm kind of amazing, in case you didn't know. I even have a certificate to prove it.
Then it came time for me to start taking shifts. This is when the self-doubt kicked in. The negative talk that I couldn't do it. That I wouldn't make a difference in the peoples lives. That I would fail so I should give up. Well, you know what; I didn't listen to that voice. I had many talks with it telling it to shut it and that all would be fine. I would lean on my training and I would do a good job. I would make a difference. I would help someone going through a living hell and that we'd both come out better for it. And you know what, I have. We have.
I've helped at least a dozen people through one of the worst experiences in their life. I've held their hand, wiped tears, laughed, reminded them how brave/strong/amazing they are and comforted them. I've seen them go from distraught and devastated to being able to smile and hug me. Telling me they couldn't have made it through the process with out me. Something happens during those hours that bonds us. We may never see each other again but we've touched each others lives. I walk away a little different, a little better because of them. They walk away knowing they can keep going and that this event, as horrible as it is, does not define them. I always leave feeling like I could have done just a little more but I also leave feeling fulfilled. I hate that these men, women, children have gone through this. I wish we could eradicate sexual assault. Until that happens, I'm glad that they have someone, like me, standing by their side, focused only on them, giving them back control and helping them to start rebuilding. I believe everyone needs someone in their corner and I am happy to be standing there, holding them up while they regain their composure and realize just how strong and brave they truly are.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Writer?
I've been compiling a list of topics for blogging. As I was skimming the list and adding to it, I read a line - shit, I'm not. It wasn't written to stand alone, it actually came at the end of a sentence. However, when I read it, there it was screaming at me. I got to thinking. What am I and what am I not. On the surface this seems an easy question. I'm a mother, wife, daughter, friend, volunteer and employee, and much more. I wear many hats but those are just labels. Why do we feel the need to label ourselves? Why can't we just be. Perhaps this will be a topic for a future blog. I certainly have a lot to say on it.
Moving along, to what I'm not. I am not a writer but I want to be. I am not an overly attentive mother but I have a healthy balance. I am not domestic but I cook and clean on occasion.
I have always loved writing. I used to write short stories and poems. I was once published. It was a small book that was compiled from items submitted through the local schools in my home town. Not everyone was chosen and I felt incredibly honored. I may have only been around 13 but I still remember it as a highlight of my young life. I've always wanted to be recognized as a writer but have never taken the risk, except that once. It was a poem about the loss of my grandmother. It walked the reader through our relationship, how she didn't acknowledge me and how I didn't realize how much I loved her or what I meant to her until she died. The way it was written was as if I could be talking about anyone. Many related to it because they could put it into the context of a failed relationship with a significant other. It was sad and an outpouring straight from my heart. I remember the morning I wrote it. It was shortly after she passed away. I awoke with it running through my body with the need to be released. With tears streaming down my face I let my fingers talk. It took about 15 minutes to write and it has always been one of my favorites.
I remember others coming up to me and telling me how much they loved it. How it seemed to have been written just for them. That I put their thoughts into words. How it made them cry. I loved the feeling this gave me. Doesn't every writer hope to give their reader that connection?
Maybe I am a writer after all. Maybe I just haven't nestled into that hat yet.
Someday I will be published again.
Moving along, to what I'm not. I am not a writer but I want to be. I am not an overly attentive mother but I have a healthy balance. I am not domestic but I cook and clean on occasion.
I have always loved writing. I used to write short stories and poems. I was once published. It was a small book that was compiled from items submitted through the local schools in my home town. Not everyone was chosen and I felt incredibly honored. I may have only been around 13 but I still remember it as a highlight of my young life. I've always wanted to be recognized as a writer but have never taken the risk, except that once. It was a poem about the loss of my grandmother. It walked the reader through our relationship, how she didn't acknowledge me and how I didn't realize how much I loved her or what I meant to her until she died. The way it was written was as if I could be talking about anyone. Many related to it because they could put it into the context of a failed relationship with a significant other. It was sad and an outpouring straight from my heart. I remember the morning I wrote it. It was shortly after she passed away. I awoke with it running through my body with the need to be released. With tears streaming down my face I let my fingers talk. It took about 15 minutes to write and it has always been one of my favorites.
I remember others coming up to me and telling me how much they loved it. How it seemed to have been written just for them. That I put their thoughts into words. How it made them cry. I loved the feeling this gave me. Doesn't every writer hope to give their reader that connection?
Maybe I am a writer after all. Maybe I just haven't nestled into that hat yet.
Someday I will be published again.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Silence
They say silence is golden. I don't know who the fuck they are but I guess to some it is. Personally, I do not appreciate it. I always find myself needing to fill it with something. I will turn on the TV, music, read... At night is when I have the most difficult time with this. I cannot go to bed and lay there peacefully while I drift off. I must read until my kindle hits me in the face or watch mind numbing television until I drift off.
I've heard people say those that can't be alone with themselves can't face their thoughts. Perhaps this is true. I have so many things running through my mind that I often have difficulty navigating them. It's like the marquee at the stock market. Having some kind of background noise helps me to organize my thoughts and reach conclusions. It seems it would be counter productive but it works.
Today, I decided to try and embrace the silence. After all this year is about change. Don't worry I'm not going to discuss that again. I think I've covered it ad nauseam. I've set myself up well to try this. I live on a ranch with only 1 neighbor. Today they are out of town and my family is out and about doing their own thing. The only noise is the occasional car, the dogs snoring and a couple of annoying flies that will soon die. I have my cup of coffee, warm blanket and my phone on silent. I've set myself up well. If you build it, they will come is what comes to mind. Just sitting here describing it makes my heart race a little. That may seem insane, maybe it is. Being alone with oneself is not an easy thing. You are forced to look inside. My first thought is Ok, what do I think about. I want it to be profound have that AH HA moment- an epiphany. I can't force this. I can't will it to happen. I can hope and allow my mind to wander. I can feel it building. I know I am right on the verge of the clarity I seek.
For now I will leave you. I am going to sit with cup in hand and stare out my large bay window at the gorgeous oak tree in my yard. Allow my mind to do what it will. If nothing else, I will allow the beauty to sink in and enjoy the sun upon my face.
I've heard people say those that can't be alone with themselves can't face their thoughts. Perhaps this is true. I have so many things running through my mind that I often have difficulty navigating them. It's like the marquee at the stock market. Having some kind of background noise helps me to organize my thoughts and reach conclusions. It seems it would be counter productive but it works.
Today, I decided to try and embrace the silence. After all this year is about change. Don't worry I'm not going to discuss that again. I think I've covered it ad nauseam. I've set myself up well to try this. I live on a ranch with only 1 neighbor. Today they are out of town and my family is out and about doing their own thing. The only noise is the occasional car, the dogs snoring and a couple of annoying flies that will soon die. I have my cup of coffee, warm blanket and my phone on silent. I've set myself up well. If you build it, they will come is what comes to mind. Just sitting here describing it makes my heart race a little. That may seem insane, maybe it is. Being alone with oneself is not an easy thing. You are forced to look inside. My first thought is Ok, what do I think about. I want it to be profound have that AH HA moment- an epiphany. I can't force this. I can't will it to happen. I can hope and allow my mind to wander. I can feel it building. I know I am right on the verge of the clarity I seek.
For now I will leave you. I am going to sit with cup in hand and stare out my large bay window at the gorgeous oak tree in my yard. Allow my mind to do what it will. If nothing else, I will allow the beauty to sink in and enjoy the sun upon my face.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Change
I've learned some things about myself the last few days. I can forgive and move on. I can actually feel sorry for someone who intentionally set out to harm me. Recently, someone did some horrible things to my family and to me specifically. At first I was so angry that I wanted to lash out, harm him and tell everyone what a vile being he is. Alas, I did not and I am a better person for it. I actually pitty him. How sad it must be to live your life with the need to hurt others.
This entire ordeal made me realize how much I've changed. Call it maturity, growing-up, inner peace, whatever. I actually feel the change in me. I feel the peace washing over me. I'm getting to the place I've been working toward this entire year. A place of accepting myself and others. It's been a long road but worth every bump along the way.
I'm preparing to say hello to 2014. I have even bigger hopes and dreams for the upcoming year. It will be another year filled with change. Change, like everything should happen in steps. This year was about the emotional and physical. Next year will be about a different kind of change. A change that never could happen with out all I achieved in 2013. I will be taking a leap of faith- in myself. A year ago, I would never have had this courage. It is still scary for me. I have some self-doubt but I also know if I'm willing to do the work, I will be successful. I am still afraid of failure but I'm more afraid of not trying. It's as if a switch as been moved inside me and I'm ready to conquer. You, my friends, should be prepared because I'm about to achieve greatness.
This entire ordeal made me realize how much I've changed. Call it maturity, growing-up, inner peace, whatever. I actually feel the change in me. I feel the peace washing over me. I'm getting to the place I've been working toward this entire year. A place of accepting myself and others. It's been a long road but worth every bump along the way.
I'm preparing to say hello to 2014. I have even bigger hopes and dreams for the upcoming year. It will be another year filled with change. Change, like everything should happen in steps. This year was about the emotional and physical. Next year will be about a different kind of change. A change that never could happen with out all I achieved in 2013. I will be taking a leap of faith- in myself. A year ago, I would never have had this courage. It is still scary for me. I have some self-doubt but I also know if I'm willing to do the work, I will be successful. I am still afraid of failure but I'm more afraid of not trying. It's as if a switch as been moved inside me and I'm ready to conquer. You, my friends, should be prepared because I'm about to achieve greatness.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Perseverence
I had the most amazing day on Sunday, October 20, 2013. I ran in the Nike Women's Half Marathon San Francisco. It was an amazing race and meant so much to me. I remember the day I found out that I had been one of the lucky few chosen. I was elated but nothing would've prepared me for how much this race would come to mean to me. To me this race was closure for the rough month I'd experienced. It represented my strength, determination and ability to persevere. It proved to me that I am able to do whatever I decide to. It also showed me that I am my own worst critic and have the least faith in myself.
I cried several times over that 13.1 miles. I cried for the baby I lost. I cried for the part of me that died with it. I cried for my son, husband and for the hurt. I also cried because I was doing it. I was running this half marathon. To me it represented my strength and perseverance. It represented how I will not let all the BS life throws at me conquer me. I will overcome all challenges and stand above them with my hands raised saying I CAN DO IT AND NOTHING WILL STOP ME.
I cried several times over that 13.1 miles. I cried for the baby I lost. I cried for the part of me that died with it. I cried for my son, husband and for the hurt. I also cried because I was doing it. I was running this half marathon. To me it represented my strength and perseverance. It represented how I will not let all the BS life throws at me conquer me. I will overcome all challenges and stand above them with my hands raised saying I CAN DO IT AND NOTHING WILL STOP ME.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Again
This is written as a first draft and I do not plan to edit it. It's the facts and exactly how I'm feeling. It doesn't paint a nice, perfect picture of me or the situation but it's honest and real.
September 5, 2013 I found out I was pregnant again. It was a surprise. After 10 years of testing every month, waiting in anticipation and hoping for the best I had given up. After multiple miscarriages, failed fertility treatments and emotional turmoil, I had accepted that I would be the mother to only one living child. I can't tell you the exact day or the moment I gave up but sometime over this year I accepted my fate of only having one child. I had found a happy place, not just content but happy with myself. I had a focus, a new goal. I was marathon training, taking care of myself and being the best me I could.
Then on Sept. 5, I became violently ill for about an hour and a half. After I was fine but exhausted. After two people hinted at pregnancy, I went to find a test. Imagine my shock when I didn't even know if I had any. This was so surprising as it had been an anchor for me for so long. I peed on it figuring it would be the same as usual and come up negative. SURPRISE the pregnancy line turned pink immediately. It was instant and it was bright. I was in total shock. I wasn't happy at first but sad. Extremely and overwhelmingly sad. I'd made all these plans, finally had started moving on with my life and planning the future. I wasn't tethered by the possibility of a pregnancy. I had stopped trying and it happened. I had actually done more than just stopped trying, I was actively trying NOT to get pregnant. When my husband arrived home, I told him almost immediately. He was so thrilled, he's wanted more children and hadn't given up. My tears hurt him. He understood my feelings and allowed me to have them without judgment but it hurt knowing he felt he had to hide his joy. I told him I was in a no win situation. If I miscarried again, it would hurt just as the others had but that I wasn't ready to have another. I had plans and goals I was working toward. The timing wasn't right. Our marriage, going through a rocky time, wasn't right. I felt selfish for feeling this way but it was honest.
The next day, I spent some time alone and came to terms with what was happening. Dare I say, I even became excited. I started thinking of the joys of pregnancy, the trial, and so much more. I was still reserved though - terrified that something could happen. I figured out that I was around 8 weeks. Though I thought I'd had two periods in Aug both weren't normal and after talking with my Naturopath, we doubted that either of them were a real period. I made an appointment with an OB based off her recommendation and was all set for Sept 10.
Saturday, Sept 7, I started spotting, it was dark and minimal. I became instantly scared, after all this is what happened the last two times. Through out the day, I experience mild cramping. We were scheduled to host a party at our house and tried to remain focused on it. There was plenty to do and I was able to space my trips to the bathroom. I become crazy about going to the bathroom and checking for blood. The spotting seemed to have stopped. YAY! I was able to enjoy the party and keep the fear at the back of my mind.
Sunday, Sept 8, my birthday! I wake up nervous but find no spotting from over night! YAY!! My husband and I go for a nice 4 mile walk where I experience some more light cramping low on my right but I figure that it's normal stretching or something. I have to wrap my mind around it somehow and make it ok. Upon returning to the house, I find that I've started spotting again. This causes me a huge amount of stress and I decide I want MY DAY to just involve relaxing and having family time.
Monday, I call the doctor regarding my appointment on Tuesday, I want to make sure I will have an ultrasound. My spotting has become more consistent and I'm a nervous wreck. The lady that answers the phone tells me no. I will not have an u/s as the tech is out until Wednesday. This unacceptable. I don't want an appointment where they'll just tell me I'm pregnant - I already know this. I decide to call the Dr. I had when I miscarried in 2010. They are able to fit me on Tues. too. It's a little later in the day but I am guaranteed an u/s! I spend the rest of the day resisting the urge to go to the restroom. I'm also fighting bouts of nausea and mild cramping discomfort. I'm wondering what is in my head and what's real.
Tuesday, will 2 o'clock ever get here?! Around 12 I tell my husband I can't be at the office any more. We need to go somewhere, anywhere to give me something else to focus on. My bleeding has slowly increased and I know something isn't right. I refuse to believe the worst until I'm told. So, we decide to go have a light lunch and wait out the time remaining. We get to the dr. appointment a few minutes early and then we wait. We wait some more and then a little more. Around 2:30, I finally get called back. They do the normal checking of vitals and prepare me for the u/s. Then they do the internal ultrasound and he tells me
the uterus is empty and shows no signs of pregnancy
my world stops
my tears roll slowly down my cheeks
He keeps talking and explaining to me everything I'm seeing, I don't really hear much. All I want to say is 'stop talking". I'm not pregnant but I know I was. I'm living another nightmare.
I snap back to reality when he tells me that it looks like I may have a ectopic pregnancy. That there is
blood in my abdomen and it appears there is something in my tube. He wants me to go to the hospital where they have better equipment and have another u/s done. He calls and makes the arrangements and we head over.
Yes, I have a tubal pregnancy. They can never be 100% positive but they believe it to be in the high 90s. I request to have the blood work done just in case. The dr. talks with me and decides to wait until the next morning to do the surgery. I don't appear to be in severe pain so he doesn't believe it will rupture while waiting just a few extra hours. The room he likes is available and we are scheduled for 10 am on Sept. 11. I am to arrive at 8 for prepping and he will see me in the morning.
I head home to spend time with my precious baby boy and explain to him that the baby isn't really a baby because it's growing in the wrong place.
I cry most of the evening until I fall asleep. I manage to get a good nights sleep but my heart aches.
I arrive at the hospital, they have issues putting the IV in my hand and end up putting it in my elbow. This is fine with me. I'd rather have it there anyway. I wish they'd figured that out before I ended up with a collapsed vein and a huge bruise on my hand.
I wake up in recovery with a lot less pain than expected. In fact, I'm more upset to come out of dreamland than I am at facing the pain. It was minimal. I stay in recovery a little longer than needed because they don't have a room for me. Eventually I get placed in a tiny, windowless and bathroomless corner room in CDU. The nurses are really busy and less than friendly. (Later that night, I did end up in a nice room, with a private bathroom and a beautiful view.) Eventually, my husband finds me and fills me on the surgery. It took longer than expected. He spent 2 hours working on me. When it's an easy case and all goes perfectly it only takes about 20 minutes. Most doctors would have cut me open but he didn't want to do that. He knows I'm a runner and going to have enough issues dealing with all that happened. He didn't want to make it worse on me. I have a lot of scar tissue from when I had my ovary removed and it made it hard for him to see what he was doing. Also, there is a layer of fat that is supposed to be over your bowels. Mine had adhered to my abdominal wall and was also blocking the view of my ovaries and tubes and working as a curtain. He placed it back in the correct area. It also turns out my pregnancy hormone level was at 7500 and not the 1-2000 as he'd expected. The tube was ruptured in two place and anyone else would've been in the ER days earlier. I had tons of blood in my abdomen. I'm lucky it wasn't worse and that I had the u/s when I did. Apparently, I have a high pain tolerance. He did have to remove the tube. The embryo was not viable but the placenta was still growing. He believes he got everything but I will need to continue having blood tests until the levels get to 0. I am also advised to not get pregnant naturally. I'm at extremely high risk of this happening again and it could be worse next time. He says, I should have no problems carrying a baby but need help getting it to my uterus. He recommends fertility treatment and then having surgery to remove my other tube. I was also told that it's no longer considered out patient surgery, due to it being more extensive and that I should stay the night so they can keep an eye on me and get my nausea and pain under control.
This is all so crazy to me. I finally get my my body where it doesn't attack a pregnancy to only end up here.
I'm at a loss and a bit of an emotional wreck. I'm so conflicted and terrified of slipping into a depression. I've worked so hard to get to where I was. These set-backs scare me. Top all of this with the inability to work out for 2 weeks and no running for a month. Even when I am allowed to come back, I have to do it minimally with a max of 50% of my norm. The biggest issue with working out/running isn't the ground I will lose physically (though it is a concern) but that it's how I stay sane. It gives me clarity. I've now decided to switch my marathon to a half. This makes me sad but with all the challenges I've faced, I don't believe I can be marathon ready. I'm sure I could complete it but not with it being fun. I want it to be fun and a challenge.
So, I just keep laying here. Wallowing in my self-pity without the emotional strength to even think of facing a day outside of bed. I know, I'll over come this, I'm just scared of how far I will sink before I come back. I am soo scared of falling back into the hole I was in before. I keep telling myself I'm not that person any more and I am so much stronger. I do feel stronger than the last time. I also have more support. I'm trying to accept this as normal grieving and necessary. Hopefully, I come back stronger and braver than ever. I never believed I could face another miscarriage and survive. I faced something worse this time and I'm still here to write about it. Hopefully, some day I look back and gain strength from this struggle.
September 5, 2013 I found out I was pregnant again. It was a surprise. After 10 years of testing every month, waiting in anticipation and hoping for the best I had given up. After multiple miscarriages, failed fertility treatments and emotional turmoil, I had accepted that I would be the mother to only one living child. I can't tell you the exact day or the moment I gave up but sometime over this year I accepted my fate of only having one child. I had found a happy place, not just content but happy with myself. I had a focus, a new goal. I was marathon training, taking care of myself and being the best me I could.
Then on Sept. 5, I became violently ill for about an hour and a half. After I was fine but exhausted. After two people hinted at pregnancy, I went to find a test. Imagine my shock when I didn't even know if I had any. This was so surprising as it had been an anchor for me for so long. I peed on it figuring it would be the same as usual and come up negative. SURPRISE the pregnancy line turned pink immediately. It was instant and it was bright. I was in total shock. I wasn't happy at first but sad. Extremely and overwhelmingly sad. I'd made all these plans, finally had started moving on with my life and planning the future. I wasn't tethered by the possibility of a pregnancy. I had stopped trying and it happened. I had actually done more than just stopped trying, I was actively trying NOT to get pregnant. When my husband arrived home, I told him almost immediately. He was so thrilled, he's wanted more children and hadn't given up. My tears hurt him. He understood my feelings and allowed me to have them without judgment but it hurt knowing he felt he had to hide his joy. I told him I was in a no win situation. If I miscarried again, it would hurt just as the others had but that I wasn't ready to have another. I had plans and goals I was working toward. The timing wasn't right. Our marriage, going through a rocky time, wasn't right. I felt selfish for feeling this way but it was honest.
The next day, I spent some time alone and came to terms with what was happening. Dare I say, I even became excited. I started thinking of the joys of pregnancy, the trial, and so much more. I was still reserved though - terrified that something could happen. I figured out that I was around 8 weeks. Though I thought I'd had two periods in Aug both weren't normal and after talking with my Naturopath, we doubted that either of them were a real period. I made an appointment with an OB based off her recommendation and was all set for Sept 10.
Saturday, Sept 7, I started spotting, it was dark and minimal. I became instantly scared, after all this is what happened the last two times. Through out the day, I experience mild cramping. We were scheduled to host a party at our house and tried to remain focused on it. There was plenty to do and I was able to space my trips to the bathroom. I become crazy about going to the bathroom and checking for blood. The spotting seemed to have stopped. YAY! I was able to enjoy the party and keep the fear at the back of my mind.
Sunday, Sept 8, my birthday! I wake up nervous but find no spotting from over night! YAY!! My husband and I go for a nice 4 mile walk where I experience some more light cramping low on my right but I figure that it's normal stretching or something. I have to wrap my mind around it somehow and make it ok. Upon returning to the house, I find that I've started spotting again. This causes me a huge amount of stress and I decide I want MY DAY to just involve relaxing and having family time.
Monday, I call the doctor regarding my appointment on Tuesday, I want to make sure I will have an ultrasound. My spotting has become more consistent and I'm a nervous wreck. The lady that answers the phone tells me no. I will not have an u/s as the tech is out until Wednesday. This unacceptable. I don't want an appointment where they'll just tell me I'm pregnant - I already know this. I decide to call the Dr. I had when I miscarried in 2010. They are able to fit me on Tues. too. It's a little later in the day but I am guaranteed an u/s! I spend the rest of the day resisting the urge to go to the restroom. I'm also fighting bouts of nausea and mild cramping discomfort. I'm wondering what is in my head and what's real.
Tuesday, will 2 o'clock ever get here?! Around 12 I tell my husband I can't be at the office any more. We need to go somewhere, anywhere to give me something else to focus on. My bleeding has slowly increased and I know something isn't right. I refuse to believe the worst until I'm told. So, we decide to go have a light lunch and wait out the time remaining. We get to the dr. appointment a few minutes early and then we wait. We wait some more and then a little more. Around 2:30, I finally get called back. They do the normal checking of vitals and prepare me for the u/s. Then they do the internal ultrasound and he tells me
the uterus is empty and shows no signs of pregnancy
my world stops
my tears roll slowly down my cheeks
He keeps talking and explaining to me everything I'm seeing, I don't really hear much. All I want to say is 'stop talking". I'm not pregnant but I know I was. I'm living another nightmare.
I snap back to reality when he tells me that it looks like I may have a ectopic pregnancy. That there is
blood in my abdomen and it appears there is something in my tube. He wants me to go to the hospital where they have better equipment and have another u/s done. He calls and makes the arrangements and we head over.
Yes, I have a tubal pregnancy. They can never be 100% positive but they believe it to be in the high 90s. I request to have the blood work done just in case. The dr. talks with me and decides to wait until the next morning to do the surgery. I don't appear to be in severe pain so he doesn't believe it will rupture while waiting just a few extra hours. The room he likes is available and we are scheduled for 10 am on Sept. 11. I am to arrive at 8 for prepping and he will see me in the morning.
I head home to spend time with my precious baby boy and explain to him that the baby isn't really a baby because it's growing in the wrong place.
I cry most of the evening until I fall asleep. I manage to get a good nights sleep but my heart aches.
I arrive at the hospital, they have issues putting the IV in my hand and end up putting it in my elbow. This is fine with me. I'd rather have it there anyway. I wish they'd figured that out before I ended up with a collapsed vein and a huge bruise on my hand.
I wake up in recovery with a lot less pain than expected. In fact, I'm more upset to come out of dreamland than I am at facing the pain. It was minimal. I stay in recovery a little longer than needed because they don't have a room for me. Eventually I get placed in a tiny, windowless and bathroomless corner room in CDU. The nurses are really busy and less than friendly. (Later that night, I did end up in a nice room, with a private bathroom and a beautiful view.) Eventually, my husband finds me and fills me on the surgery. It took longer than expected. He spent 2 hours working on me. When it's an easy case and all goes perfectly it only takes about 20 minutes. Most doctors would have cut me open but he didn't want to do that. He knows I'm a runner and going to have enough issues dealing with all that happened. He didn't want to make it worse on me. I have a lot of scar tissue from when I had my ovary removed and it made it hard for him to see what he was doing. Also, there is a layer of fat that is supposed to be over your bowels. Mine had adhered to my abdominal wall and was also blocking the view of my ovaries and tubes and working as a curtain. He placed it back in the correct area. It also turns out my pregnancy hormone level was at 7500 and not the 1-2000 as he'd expected. The tube was ruptured in two place and anyone else would've been in the ER days earlier. I had tons of blood in my abdomen. I'm lucky it wasn't worse and that I had the u/s when I did. Apparently, I have a high pain tolerance. He did have to remove the tube. The embryo was not viable but the placenta was still growing. He believes he got everything but I will need to continue having blood tests until the levels get to 0. I am also advised to not get pregnant naturally. I'm at extremely high risk of this happening again and it could be worse next time. He says, I should have no problems carrying a baby but need help getting it to my uterus. He recommends fertility treatment and then having surgery to remove my other tube. I was also told that it's no longer considered out patient surgery, due to it being more extensive and that I should stay the night so they can keep an eye on me and get my nausea and pain under control.
This is all so crazy to me. I finally get my my body where it doesn't attack a pregnancy to only end up here.
I'm at a loss and a bit of an emotional wreck. I'm so conflicted and terrified of slipping into a depression. I've worked so hard to get to where I was. These set-backs scare me. Top all of this with the inability to work out for 2 weeks and no running for a month. Even when I am allowed to come back, I have to do it minimally with a max of 50% of my norm. The biggest issue with working out/running isn't the ground I will lose physically (though it is a concern) but that it's how I stay sane. It gives me clarity. I've now decided to switch my marathon to a half. This makes me sad but with all the challenges I've faced, I don't believe I can be marathon ready. I'm sure I could complete it but not with it being fun. I want it to be fun and a challenge.
So, I just keep laying here. Wallowing in my self-pity without the emotional strength to even think of facing a day outside of bed. I know, I'll over come this, I'm just scared of how far I will sink before I come back. I am soo scared of falling back into the hole I was in before. I keep telling myself I'm not that person any more and I am so much stronger. I do feel stronger than the last time. I also have more support. I'm trying to accept this as normal grieving and necessary. Hopefully, I come back stronger and braver than ever. I never believed I could face another miscarriage and survive. I faced something worse this time and I'm still here to write about it. Hopefully, some day I look back and gain strength from this struggle.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Believing in Myself
I've realized over the last few days that no matter how hard I am trying, a certain part of me still cares what people think. I don't care in the same way I used to but I care when it comes to having support. The other day I started looking into a potential new career. It is something that fits into where I am in my life and what I've been working toward. It is something that others approach me about and there is definitely a need for it in the area I live. When I approached some of my family about it I received ZERO support. The first person I told actually changed the subject as soon as I finished my inital spiel. I sat there staring, dumbfounded literally wondering WTF?
See, I NEED support. I NEED to know that someone thinks it's a good idea, that I would be good at it, that I could make a difference. If I don't have the support, I doubt myself. I know this shouldn't be the case but it is. Now, I've lost a little of my confidence but I'm still going to research this path and make the jump if I deem it worthy.
I also know believing in myself is key. Though I feel I need the outside support, I've got to support myself first. If I believe I can do this then I will. Life is full of potential but you'll never realize it if you don't make changes, face challenges and sometimes take a leap of faith.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Falling
Hey you! Yeah you! You over there ignoring me. You over there with your nose stuck in your phone - living everyone else's life while yours is passing by. You who forgets I'm here. You who is so consumed that you haven't realized I'm slipping away. Wake from your zombie state before it's too late. I'm hanging by a frayed thread and I can feel myself falling - drifting away.
I'm succumbing to outside forces. The forces that pull and tug at me. The forces that see me and want me. They don't need me. They only know they feel a pull and are blindly allowing themselves to tumble forward. To place upon me the need I unwillingly reveal to the world. My secret no longer safely hidden in the empty pocket of my heart. It's written upon my face, upon the swell of my breast and the curve of hips. It's oozing from me like an open wound.
I'm succumbing to outside forces. The forces that pull and tug at me. The forces that see me and want me. They don't need me. They only know they feel a pull and are blindly allowing themselves to tumble forward. To place upon me the need I unwillingly reveal to the world. My secret no longer safely hidden in the empty pocket of my heart. It's written upon my face, upon the swell of my breast and the curve of hips. It's oozing from me like an open wound.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Damn it all to Hell
I hate being negative. I hate opening that side of my life up for people to see. I hate that a certain person with their care and friendship keeps asking me about shit I don't want to talk about but apparently need to talk about. Everytime I'm asked I spew information like a faucet with a broken valve. After, I instantly feel quilt. I don't want to make my problems someone elses and I dont want to wear them down by constantly purging and dumping on them. I also don't want this person seeing me in this light and as anything other than strong. I hate displaying weakness and for this person to see me this way makes my heart ache. It makes me ache because I want to be strong, beautiful, sexy, loving, intelligent and brave. I don't mind having faults and can joke about them. I do mind looking weak and having someone's pity. That, I can not handle.
They are constantly looking for a way to help me but there is no outside help. I am only able to help myself. I know what needs to be done but am unable to go through the motions. Unfortunately, life is not simple and I am not ready to set these wheels in motion. It will create a chain of events that I am unprepared to face. It will effect areas more far reaching than I can even imagine. Everytime I think of it, I instantly become overwhelmed. I walk in a daze thinking of it all and if I could survive.
Survival, sounds somewhat overly dramatic. It is not, when speaking of my emotional state. At this time I know what to expect, know what will happen in my day-to-day. I am surviving. I may not be doing it in the healthiest of ways or making the best decisions but I've found my way of coping. I may be spinning out of control and lost my grip on reality in one area but I'm thriving in others. I've found a comfortable nook where I sit and observe the world. I watch it passing me and jump in and enjoy the roller coaster from time to time. I wear my mask and show the world what I want it to see. I focus on the areas where I have control and that make me happy. I embrace the joys and leave the tough shit simmering in the background. It'll still be there when I'm ready and able to face it.
They are constantly looking for a way to help me but there is no outside help. I am only able to help myself. I know what needs to be done but am unable to go through the motions. Unfortunately, life is not simple and I am not ready to set these wheels in motion. It will create a chain of events that I am unprepared to face. It will effect areas more far reaching than I can even imagine. Everytime I think of it, I instantly become overwhelmed. I walk in a daze thinking of it all and if I could survive.
Survival, sounds somewhat overly dramatic. It is not, when speaking of my emotional state. At this time I know what to expect, know what will happen in my day-to-day. I am surviving. I may not be doing it in the healthiest of ways or making the best decisions but I've found my way of coping. I may be spinning out of control and lost my grip on reality in one area but I'm thriving in others. I've found a comfortable nook where I sit and observe the world. I watch it passing me and jump in and enjoy the roller coaster from time to time. I wear my mask and show the world what I want it to see. I focus on the areas where I have control and that make me happy. I embrace the joys and leave the tough shit simmering in the background. It'll still be there when I'm ready and able to face it.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Torn
Sitting here in the sun enjoying a beautiful afternoon but I'm torn. As usual, I'm torn between what I should be doing and what I want to do. This should come as no surprise as it's typical for how I've always lived my life. I grew up with a certain way I was to be seen, act and believe. There was no room for deviation and little tolerance for anything outside the considered norm. We didn't talk about things considered private and I learned to navigate my way through life on my own.
It was unfortunate that many times when I was torn between what was expected of me and what I wanted I went with what was expected. When I did choose to go off the given path I was rather good at being discrete. However, when my little rebellious streak really struck I gave it 100% and held my ground. It was dumb and I learned a life lesson. A lesson that changed my entire future. I have no regrets and wouldn't change a thing. But I do wonder what if I had made a different decision. How would my life be now?
I always wanted to be loved and showered with attention. To know that I was the center of someone's universe. As soon as I received that from a man I became like a sponge, soaking it up and longing for more. Unfortunately, it wasn't something that lasted. It would be easy to point out the reasons that he caused this failed relationship. But I'm here to focus on me and my biggest contribution was my inability to believe I deserved what I desired most. How can one possible succeed if they believe the are unworthy and destined to fail?
I've always longed for attention. Any kind of attention yet am embarrassed upon receipt. I somehow never feel deserving and often think it to be some kind of joke and that my acceptance of it will be the punch line. This is why I am unable to graciously accept a compliment and find it hard to give them. At least those that are more than surface deep.
I realize this is a problem of mine and I'm working to rectify it. I'm learning to just say thank you and not make a joke or down play it. I'm learning to tell that little voice in my head to be quiet and to stop the negative talk. I am learning to believe them. I am me and me is enough. Though I constantly work to improve myself, at this moment in time I AM ENOUGH. Every time I repeat this I believe it a little more.
It was unfortunate that many times when I was torn between what was expected of me and what I wanted I went with what was expected. When I did choose to go off the given path I was rather good at being discrete. However, when my little rebellious streak really struck I gave it 100% and held my ground. It was dumb and I learned a life lesson. A lesson that changed my entire future. I have no regrets and wouldn't change a thing. But I do wonder what if I had made a different decision. How would my life be now?
I always wanted to be loved and showered with attention. To know that I was the center of someone's universe. As soon as I received that from a man I became like a sponge, soaking it up and longing for more. Unfortunately, it wasn't something that lasted. It would be easy to point out the reasons that he caused this failed relationship. But I'm here to focus on me and my biggest contribution was my inability to believe I deserved what I desired most. How can one possible succeed if they believe the are unworthy and destined to fail?
I've always longed for attention. Any kind of attention yet am embarrassed upon receipt. I somehow never feel deserving and often think it to be some kind of joke and that my acceptance of it will be the punch line. This is why I am unable to graciously accept a compliment and find it hard to give them. At least those that are more than surface deep.
I realize this is a problem of mine and I'm working to rectify it. I'm learning to just say thank you and not make a joke or down play it. I'm learning to tell that little voice in my head to be quiet and to stop the negative talk. I am learning to believe them. I am me and me is enough. Though I constantly work to improve myself, at this moment in time I AM ENOUGH. Every time I repeat this I believe it a little more.
I'm a work in progress and I have my ups and downs. I have my low self-esteem days and the days I think I'm bad ass. There are days I wish to bare my soul and days where I feel it and my heart need to be protected because any hint of imperfection will destroy me. Today, today is a day where I'm willing to open myself to you and embrace you with all that I have.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
One of those days
Today I'm feeling bitchy, bloated and lethargic. It's just one of those days. You know the ones... everything and everyone annoys you and you'd shoot them with lasers, from your eyes, if only you could. You'd curl up under the covers consuming comfort food with abandon while watching mind numbing television hoping no one had the nerve to walk in the room. Should they walk in the room you would shoot them with said lasers. I always have a day like this when it's close to THAT time of the month. Luckily, I've learned to recognize and accept it. Gone are the days where it would start a downward spiral of depression, self-critism and destruction. Now I embrace it as best I can and know it's only 24 hours of hell.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
15 Years and Counting
15 years ago yesterday (yes, I'm a day late and a dollar short) I moved to this state of California. I remember that day like it was...well...yesterday. I was young, scared, and heartbroken. I packed everything I could in two suitcases, had a $100 cash, got dropped off at the airport and headed into the unknown. I'm pretty sure it was a memorable day for the guy that sat next to me on the plane. I doubt he'll ever forget the crazy young woman who cried for over an hour, stared out the window and refused to speak. Hey dude, if you're reading this...I'm doing great now!
April 15 has become a day I celebrate and mourn each year. I take some time to reflect and think about a lot of what if's. This year however, I celebrated it by having a very special photo shoot. I didn't exactly plan it this way but it worked out perfectly. I've always been a bit of a control freak and a reserved person (unless there's vodka). I've also relied heavily on what others think. So stepping out of my comfort zone, letting my sexy shine, embracing me and giving up control was no easy task. I like to think I did well at it and if the pictures prove anything - I did. I've had body image issues all my life but to look at these pictures, all I can say is DAMN! Is this really me?
The photographer is amazing and I am thrilled to be photographed by her. I intend to continue modeling with her. I may be the one paying but it's worth every reasonable penny. I've never felt so beautiful, sexy, powerful or accepted - to mention only a few key words. Life is grand and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Love yourself and embrace all that life hands you. It's all part of what gets you to where you are going.
April 15 has become a day I celebrate and mourn each year. I take some time to reflect and think about a lot of what if's. This year however, I celebrated it by having a very special photo shoot. I didn't exactly plan it this way but it worked out perfectly. I've always been a bit of a control freak and a reserved person (unless there's vodka). I've also relied heavily on what others think. So stepping out of my comfort zone, letting my sexy shine, embracing me and giving up control was no easy task. I like to think I did well at it and if the pictures prove anything - I did. I've had body image issues all my life but to look at these pictures, all I can say is DAMN! Is this really me?
The photographer is amazing and I am thrilled to be photographed by her. I intend to continue modeling with her. I may be the one paying but it's worth every reasonable penny. I've never felt so beautiful, sexy, powerful or accepted - to mention only a few key words. Life is grand and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Love yourself and embrace all that life hands you. It's all part of what gets you to where you are going.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Friendship is such an important part of life. It restores your soul. Nothing compares to a true friendship - whether it's with your life partner or someone else. Everyone needs that person they can confide in, laugh with and hold on to when all seems lost. That person that leads you back from the dark - the light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. At least one person that drops everything and picks you up when you fall. Hopefully laughing on the way back up.
There are different types of friendship. I've been all types to many and experienced my fair share from each group. You learn what to expect from people and to count on those strengths and weaknesses.
The good-timers. These are the ones that are only there when things are good. Who needs these? We all do. They are fun and they make us laugh. Everyone needs a good time friend - like everyone needs a good time girl.
The Suckers. These are the users. The ones that suck the life out of you if you let them. Avoid them. Even if it means running away screaming with your hands over your ears. You can only handle so much negative in your life. My guess is you have enough of your own, you don't need theirs.
The Fakes. The ones that are one way to your face and then can't wait to share/talkabout/destroy you to the next person. Avoid them? Maybe. I choose not to. I know who they are, what they offer and frankly, I don't care what they think/say anymore. They can be amusing - like toys. Challenge yourself to see just how much you can get them talking about you.
The Reals. These are the ones that are 100% invested. They know you, they love you and there is no pretense. No explanation or correction needed for statements because they automatically know what you mean. The ones that show up on your doorstep with alcohol, food or the new must-see movie. They don't see the dirty dishes in the sink, the mascara running down your face or the laugh lines around your eyes. They see directly to your soul and refill it without effort.
There are different types of friendship. I've been all types to many and experienced my fair share from each group. You learn what to expect from people and to count on those strengths and weaknesses.
The good-timers. These are the ones that are only there when things are good. Who needs these? We all do. They are fun and they make us laugh. Everyone needs a good time friend - like everyone needs a good time girl.
The Suckers. These are the users. The ones that suck the life out of you if you let them. Avoid them. Even if it means running away screaming with your hands over your ears. You can only handle so much negative in your life. My guess is you have enough of your own, you don't need theirs.
The Fakes. The ones that are one way to your face and then can't wait to share/talkabout/destroy you to the next person. Avoid them? Maybe. I choose not to. I know who they are, what they offer and frankly, I don't care what they think/say anymore. They can be amusing - like toys. Challenge yourself to see just how much you can get them talking about you.
The Reals. These are the ones that are 100% invested. They know you, they love you and there is no pretense. No explanation or correction needed for statements because they automatically know what you mean. The ones that show up on your doorstep with alcohol, food or the new must-see movie. They don't see the dirty dishes in the sink, the mascara running down your face or the laugh lines around your eyes. They see directly to your soul and refill it without effort.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Here I am!
I finally found my way back. It's been over 2 years that I've been off finding myself. Lucky you - you've also found me. We must celebrate! I suggest a large drink made mostly of tequila or vodka, a little ice and a mixer if you must. It's guaranteed to make you feel better and make my blog more entertaining (as if that's needed). Bottoms Up!
I recently had a conversation with a friend laughing about posts on social networking sites. Does anyone really care what we have to say? I mean, does it matter that we just fed our kids dinner, went to the movies, took out the trash or any other number of mundane items we complete each day. No, no it doesn't. I'd much rather blog it anyway. Here, I can write as much as I want with out getting those silly red numbers.
I'm excited, nervous, anxious and thrilled to face this fear of making myself vulnerable by blogging. Part of me wonders why the heck someone would want to read what I have to say. The other half says who cares? It's for me, not them. So here I will tear down a wall. I've been making ceilings floors for two years and I'm looking forward to this new challenge. Gulping some liquid courage is just a bonus. Here's to you and me.
I recently had a conversation with a friend laughing about posts on social networking sites. Does anyone really care what we have to say? I mean, does it matter that we just fed our kids dinner, went to the movies, took out the trash or any other number of mundane items we complete each day. No, no it doesn't. I'd much rather blog it anyway. Here, I can write as much as I want with out getting those silly red numbers.
I'm excited, nervous, anxious and thrilled to face this fear of making myself vulnerable by blogging. Part of me wonders why the heck someone would want to read what I have to say. The other half says who cares? It's for me, not them. So here I will tear down a wall. I've been making ceilings floors for two years and I'm looking forward to this new challenge. Gulping some liquid courage is just a bonus. Here's to you and me.
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