Verbal diarrhea, if you will.
And, just to warn you, just like the real thing, this diarrhea is probably just as worthless, crappy, and just as time consuming to get through. Enter at your own risk.
Today was back to work for me. I survived. No kid cried. I'll take that as a success.
***I am trying to decide if I want to buy another stackable thing for my ring. I bought a ring back in the day when Maggie died. Remember? Well, I am trying to decide if I want to add another layer to remember the nugget of love. I'm debating. What do you think? The second part of that question then, is if I do get a ring, which gemstone do I get- the garnet for January or the amethyst for February. My conundrum is that we had the ultrasound on January 30 where there wasn't a heartbeat but the D&C was February 3. Maybe I should lie and say that it was April. Then I could get meself a new diamond.
***Our backsplash in our kitchen is not done. It is driving me insane. You know that feeling that when things in your home are a wreck and out of control, then you feel like your life is a wreck and out of control? Well, that's how I feel. Our kitchen is in shambles since we have only grouted half the backsplash. So, there's plastic everywhere, the oven's pulled out from the wall, the microwave is on the living floor and kitty is playing soccer with pieces of cut tile. My point, however, is that when my house is out of control, I feel out of control. The thing is, I'm pretty sure that I would feel like a wreck and like my life was in shambles, even if my kitchen were a vision of perfection. So, now the wreck-out-of-control-life-in-shambles feeling is quadrupled. At least.
***Because of said mess, I invited my mom over for a mother-daughter date on Saturday. I have also invited one Mr. Clean and one Mr. Hoover to join us for an afternoon of scrubbing, dusting, and cleansing. There is something cathartic about cleaning and having a clean house. And, my mom is a wonder cleaner (among other things). I'm hoping a clean/calm/peaceful/tidy/organized house equals a clean/calm/peaceful/tidy/organized life/heart/mind/soul. I'll let you know how that goes. I won't hold my breath.
***I have my post-surgery doctor's appointment scheduled for the end of February. That seems like forever away. But, I guess it's only three weeks. We scheduled it later so that the genetic testing results of the tissues would be back by then. "Tissues" is just a nice way of saying the body of my future child that they took out of me.
***Update on me:
- Physically, I have pain, among other things. I felt really good after the surgery but yesterday and today I've been hurting more. Not sure what the deal is. Not bad, just annoying. Another reminder that a little thing was sucked out of me a few days ago. (Can you tell that I am a bit bitter?) But, that's why they gave me a prescription for something. I don't even know what it is but I'm taking it.
- Sleeping is another issue. I am helping myself to a nice, healthy serving of Tylenol PM every evening. Because otherwise I lay there. And think. And get mad. And try to pray. And I don't know what to say. And then I get frustrated because I should be praying or sleeping or doing something productive. So then I get annoyed with myself. And then I'm annoyed that I'm annoyed about not sleeping when there are so many other issues in my life to be annoyed about. Then, I think about the fact that I'm a mother who has never met her 2 children face to face. And then I get annoyed because 5:33 a.m. is coming way faster than it should. So, Tylenol PM is great. And, even though it makes me fall asleep instead of dealing with my feelings or thoughts, I at least am somewhat rested in the morning.
- Remember how on Friday I made a pact that I wasn't going to break down? Well, I didn't. Impressed? You should be. The really awesome and cool thing about that is that I just broke down the REST of the weekend. Ask D. He was here. He was an eyewitness and an unwilling participant at times, too. And, what probably made it even better for him was that I wasn't consistent. I was normal and fine for a few minutes and then the next I was a basketcasereadytobeputinastraightjacket. I was the poster child for grief. I know I'm supposed to be grieving, so I'll assume that I am acting developmentally appropriate. Let me just say, once again, that my husband is a saint for putting up with me and my tears and my stupid reproductive organs. Give that man a trophy and a steak.
- Emotionally, I feel like a pile of crap. And I'm okay with that.
- I'm mad. That this happened again. After Maggie. After all of the effort and energy we put into getting to this point. Why does this keep happening? And why to us?
- I'm terribly heartbroken. It's weird when I say that I miss my child. My children. I mean, I understand why that sounds lame. But, I can't explain it and I don't feel like I need to. Every woman whom I have talked to who has experienced child loss at any point says the same thing. So, people can think I'm nuts for being so heartbroken, but there are millions of other women who feel the exact same way that I do. I'm horribly sad. I miss them.
- But most of all, I feel incredibly guilty. Before I even start on this, I KNOW I shouldn't feel like this. I know logically it doesn't make sense, but...I feel such intense guilt for not keeping my children alive. To put it bluntly, I feel guilty for killing my children. Now, I know, I know. I didn't really do that. But, I did. My body was responsible to keep those little things alive. They were entrusted to me to get everything they needed from me. And, for some reason, my body failed to do that. My body failed to keep them alive. And, on top of it, I feel guilt for bringing such sadness to my family. If it wasn't for me, Dave would have a kid or two running around. Our parents would have more grandparents. And I keep ruining it.
- I'm scared. What if this keeps happening? What if it never ends? How long do we keep doing this before calling it quits?
I want that.
More to come later, peeps.
Your basketcase in a straight jacket.