I figured that I would never blog again while in nursing school, but I've been having twitchy fingers that are yearning for a keyboard. I'm pretty sure it's just because I know it's a good way to procrastinate and avoid all the reading I need to do, not because I actually want to write. Either way, it's a bonus to you because you get to read my fantastical writing.
Last week I was reading a blog (I can't remember which, however) and she had compiled a bunch of unfinished posts from the previous year. I love the idea of that because I have so many unfinished posts from this last year. So many (uh, over a hundred, though I'm not posting them all) that I started with the intention of finishing, only to fizzle out towards the end and just completely give up. So I'm stealing her idea and sharing some unfinished posts. Some kind of hurt my heart (obviously dealing with the grief of a miscarriage can be a downer and after reading through all my old drafts I realize I tried to write about it a lot and even though I didn't publish them, it was very therapeutic) and others make me happy, so enjoy the roller coaster of emotions.
I'm so thankful for my family. They are quite literally some of the best people in this world and every time I have the chance to hang out with them, even if it's just one person, I feel like my heart might explode from all the love.
Not many of you know this, but I married an old man. Fifteen years older, to be exact. When I first was thinking of waiting to have a baby, my thoughts were, 'But he's going to be such an OLD dad!' I remember having a friend whose dad was really old growing up and everyone made fun of her saying he was her grandpa, and I don't want my kids to have to go through that. (Turns out, he actually WAS her grandpa, though, and her dad was in prison. So ya, my rationale went out the window there.) Then I started noticing older parents when I walked through downtown and saw a few when I was at a bike race, and they were WAY older than Vince will be when we start having a kid. The parents were still happy, the baby was still happy, and they were just like any other family who started having kids ten years previously.
I'm still caught on this threshold of 'Should I still be sad about miscarrying?' vs 'Can I still be sad about miscarrying?'
Do I believe there was a little soul in me the moment I conceived? Hell yes. I felt it, and can still feel it, taking up a little space in my heart. It is real. But to me it wasn't a child. I didn't give birth to it (well, that's questionable) and I didn't hold it in my arms. It was just a little soul at the time I miscarried. So when I find myself feeling sad, it's more so about the future Vince and I lost. The future as I thought it was going to be ended up not even having a chance to come to fruition. But that's life. Things change every day against our will and we have to just accept it, deal with it, and move on.
We were walking across the parking lot when all of the sudden this huge white lifted truck slammed to a stop for apparently no reason. Then I noticed there was a little pigeon in front of his tires. He sort of revved his engine, trying to get it to move, but it just stayed put and bobbed its head. So then the driver's door opened and out came this massive biker-looking guy with a burly beard. Not someone I would imagine stopping for a bird. He poked his head around the front of his truck to see the bird and it still didn't move out of the way! So he started laughing and clapping and stomping to get it to fly, and alas, it did.
Things I'm loving: The smell of my 100+ year old house and old wood floors. It's a very earthy smell that just smells fresh during the summer.
I wrote up a post on my miscarriage, and I just can't seem to post it, which is weird. I'm totally fine talking about it to people, but the idea of everyone knowing the tiny details, like laying on the bathroom floor with my face against the tile blacking out between painful contractions, is kind of hard to think about. It's something I want to share and want to offer as help to others, though, so I'll eventually post it. In the meantime, I'm going to write a little bit about how I feel at the moment, 5 weeks after the miscarriage.
I still find myself angrily thinking, I should be X amount of weeks by now, I should be showing, I should be finding out the gender in a couple of weeks, but I'm not. I figured that would go away at some point, but after talking to some other people about it, I've realized that this will be a part of me as well. I won't think about it as often, but I know that every November 24th, I'll be thinking about how I should have a one year old, a two year old, a 45 year old. It's a daunting idea to know that I will forever have to deal with at least one painful day every year…
Most of us are extremely privileged. If you are reading this, it definitely means you're privileged because you have the internet and a computer or phone to read silly blogs like mine. (But I guess you could be at a public library which, HELLO, is still a privilege.) We may not think we are, because we may not have a bunch of money in the bank or a nice fancy car, but we are. We have a roof over our heads and food on the table. It may be a crappy roof that leaks and food that tastes like cardboard, but we have it.
I am in a dilemma of sorts, one that I have a love/hate relationship with. My problem is that I'm surrounded by so much inspiration and it's so overwhelming that I can't find anything to do with myself.
I'm starting to panic. That's a really big hole to fit through such a small banana.
(What?! I think I was still high on painkillers.)
I was excited that I was finally feeling good, like myself again, now that I don't have pregnancy hormones running through me making me feel awful, tired, and like I just want to eat rootbeer floats for breakfast, lunch and dinner. For .2 seconds the thought of, 'I'm so glad I'm not pregnant' flittered through my mind and I kind of lost it and cried in the car. Honestly I AM glad I'm not pregnant in a way, but I didn't want to not be pregnant because of a miscarriage, rather because I had a baby. But at that moment I felt so guilty for thinking that.
Officially have the most adorable neighbor. He's British, has curly blonde hair (circa 1990's Justin Timberlake), and just showed me a baby birds nest because he wanted me to see how cute it is. He about melted when he heard the babies twittering. He's also afraid of spiders and hornets.
Sometimes you just need to ditch school and work, drive an hour and a half to another city, and eat In-N-Out. So after Vince woke up last week and said he really wanted In-N-Out in the casual way we tell each other every other day, I said, 'Ok! Let's drive to Prescott and go to In-N-Out.' And we did. We were both pretty damn happy with that decision.
Oh my. The week after spring break hit me in the face with a huge PUNCH. I almost wish we didn't have spring break because it throws me off so much! But then I think about how insane I was getting before spring break and I'm glad it happened. I'd like to continue with the day naps, though.
This week has been...rough. It wasn't bad by any means, jus
(Apparently it was so rough that I couldn't even finish the sentence.)
I wanted New Year's Eve to be legen- wait for it - dary. I wanted to go out, party it up, and have a blast. but guess what? It's kind of true what they say about married people...they're boring!