I renewed my blog. Not because I am sure I will write more than I did last year…or write at all to be honest. I have a lot of content here that I’m not ready to lose, backed up or not. And I will always have more to say.
Last year was terrible. My faith in God tested in more ways that I care to recount, but I made it through. Most of us, at the very least, made it through. But now, I don’t know what I want this blog to be.. I leaned heavily on Instagram as my platform of choice to share my year – participating in project 366 – and lost my voice in a way. Photo comments can only say so much, even with a picture being worth 1,000 words. And there is always, always that undertone of playing to a particular audience. Can’t post baby-loss stuff lest my mom think I need to see a shrink (not that there is anything wrong with counseling.) Can’t post my proud mom moments because I might offend my loss mommas who don’t yet have a child in their arms. I posted every day, challenge completed successfully, and I think it was just enough to be a lifeline; just enough to pull myself through the darkness of career upheaval, general life struggles and pregnancy losses.
Anyway, I am a writer by default. Rambling through life to the best of my ability. I’m hopeful this year will contain more joy than the last three combined and considering recent history, I’m really not asking for a whole lot.
Whoever you are, if you are, I hope you are well.
Rewind to October 2015… Start the clock.
Married this guy 10.24.15.
Spent the best week at the beach..
And then life carried on as usual.
Birthdays came and went.. The Hurricane turned three!!
Got a new job, no more commute!!
Surprise!! Baby number two due late December.
Heard the heartbeat at 7+3. I cried.
11 weeks of love and bloat. I would give anything to not need to post the next photos…
6.23.16 at 13+1. No heartbeat. Perfectly developed, two days after normal appointment, the sky crashed all around us…..
And life moved on without me..
New ink. “The same waves that threaten to drown you are the ones that will return you to shore.”
Fall. October. Stop the clock. This time of year always makes me feel alive again and I need that more than ever.
This is me. This is love and loss and so real it hurts. This is my life.
I miss my best friends.
It is so late. I should be sleeping like the rest of this household, but my mind is buzzing with activity and I cannot seem to shut it down, brand new pillow or not. I did not get to sleep in this morning and I was up late last night too. Apologies in advance because this post will likely end up unproofed and as messy as my front room this morning when the Hurricane dumped his bucket of trains and books and assorted toys e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.
So last night, my best friend and I had our montly-ish girl night and I drank about four too many glasses of iced tea at the ever awesome downtown brewery. Best cobb salad in the city. Way too much caffeine. She was catching me up on her adventures when she felt the need to use the disclaimer that although I am her best friend, I’m not THE best friend she’s ever had. Duh, right? So funny that she even felt the need to qualify having more than one best friend because 1. We are not in high school and 2. She’s not THE best friend I’ve ever had either, which I know she knows. I do love her to death though.
So hop, skip, a few dozen tangents and twenty-four hours later.. I miss my other best friends. I sincerely believe those are my soulmates. The really BIG, important, significant people who come into your life just before you really need them and usually leave when you hardly notice you don’t as much anymore. My high school best friend who knew both me and my ex-husband. I miss that drive across town, just to hang out in her room and talk about.. I can’t even remember. I know I wasn’t her best, best friend, but that’s okay. My college best friends. We used to have everything in common and now we’ve all gone in different directions, friendships fragmented by too much distance, too much time. I miss playing Wii, all cramped in a tiny dorm room. I miss late night trips to the Fishbowl, talking about laws of attraction, our classes, life after college and spending all of our spare change on vending machine hot chocolate. The late night to early morning chats on our LAN music sharing site about literally everything, everything.
I am not the same person who was their best friend, and tonight especially I wonder if they would recognize me at all, but I do miss them. I would love a day to catch up with each of them. To get a glimpse of how things turned out for them. To let them know that I cheer them on when they come to mind. And although I know circumstances will never be the same to make us active best friends again, these people will always have a place in my heart.
Such is the nature of soulmates.
Dustin and I had an amazing time yesterday. We have been talking about going to Six Flags Magic Mountain for over a year now and finally made the trip. Splurged on Flash Passes for the first time ever and got to ride every coaster we wanted, most two or three times. There were a couple good coasters I have never had a chance to ride before, and it has been years, but Goliath, at night, was still my favorite. Nothing beats that first drop. Nothing beats the anticipation and thrill, the energy in the air, that deep breath and long scream, and those moments that steal your breath away. It was perfect. Exactly what I needed and more.
And then this afternoon, during a quiet moment of the Hurricane’s nap, Facebook kindly reminded me that I have been divorced for exactly two years. So fitting, really, given the mild emotional breakdown I had in the car this morning on the way home… We are flying down the interstate and start talking about our wedding, just 40 days and 40 nights away. So soon, but so far away given that I feel like I have known this man forever – and often have to remind myself that we just truly met a year and a half ago. I commented honestly, that I am mostly pretty sure I am ready to get remarried when a wave of shame and anger and regret washed over me. Those deep in the pit of your stomach ugly, ugly feelings. And my concern for still being able to feel that way, even two years later caused me to burst into tears.
I am certain it is not that I am not ready to marry him. It’s the wasted time, years and years and almost a decade of wasted time, the cracks in my heart, the betrayal of trust that were all for nothing. Because besides the Hurricane, and being free and having a hell of a lot more confidence in who I am and why I’m here on this earth, no good comes from what I went through. But that’s everything at the same time, isn’t it?
It is everything. So I cried for my divorce and for me, and for the messy and beautiful family my son will have. For everything I never really wanted, wasn’t expecting, didn’t sign up for. Dustin reached over and grabbed my hand, calmly told me that it may never fully go away and that it’s okay if it never does and we sat in silence for a couple miles. He is my zen and I am so thankful. I still have a big heart, and it just so happens to be a big day in the short history of my divorced life. The highlight of which was picking up the Hurricane and him running at us yelling, “Mommy! Daddy!” before throwing himself into my arms. The gentle reminder that I am immeasurably blessed among this chaos.
Love and light,
[[The thing about droughts is, the grass isn’t greener anywhere.]]
I’m up too late again. I can feel a headache settling in for the night. Or maybe just the tension of too many thoughts demanding to be recognized before the day is done. My brain feels frantic and my body is too tired to work out that energy any way other than to half sit, half lie here and write.
So… Tomorrow marks one month at my new job. I made cookies. Oatmeal chocolate chip and peanut butter chocolate chip. Half celebrating myself and half because the chocolate chips needed to be used up before the whole bag found its way into late night snack territory. If the idea of baking for myself sounds pretentious or sad, I don’t care. They are for everyone there anyway. And because busying myself with baking and organizing and working out are things I do when I am feeling stressed out and going through things.
And I am going through them.
I want to say “it’s funny how…blah blah blah” but it isn’t really funny or ironic at all. It is hard and painful and unfortunate that anything about who I was once upon a lifetime ago affects me today, but I am who I am and so it does. Evocation is not a tendency for the faint of heart. That’s a word, right, evocation, evoke? I’m too tired to look it up but it sounds about right. And I’m not the type of person who can just let the past…be. There’s that whole quote about those forgetting history being destined to relive it. Probably butchering that, but you get my point, I hope.
I have always, mostly been brutally honest so it’s just been hard. Second engagement brings up a trunkload of doubts and insecurities. My first marriage failed and it is a big deal to me – so much so that I even hate that phrase “first marriage” like I ever went in with the explicit goal of getting out. So yes, Marriage is a big deal to me. I was an awful first wife in so many ways and can only hope to have learned enough to not let that history ever repeat itself.
I suppose I should make more time to get through this maze of emotions and just be done with it, but time is a rare commodity. I’m happy, so happy but I am also scared. Dustin is such a good man. And we do really make a good team. There’s just the tiny voice all but drown out by the chaos saying it will all, most likely be alright. No promises, but also no regrets.
Love and light,
I am up too late, painting my nails, listening to a slow song and the rare sound of my wind chimes blowing in the warm summer breeze.
It was so difficult to be an adult today. To take care of a crabby two and a half year old who talked back or fought everything, every chance he got.. To clean the apartment, clean out my car, get laundry and dishes and all that getting ready for the week ahead done. We all woke up on the wrong side of the weekend. We all napped while hurricane napped. And I get to paint my nails now because the whole house is asleep besides me.
I got a new job. A promotion. It is amazing to the extent of renewing my love for veterinary medicine. I don’t have time to write much anymore – not that I ever seem to have a whole lot – in part because my schedule is different but also because I am trying to catch up my tech skills.
And since I last wrote, I finally made it to the beach. It had been too long..
Are you ready? Next great adventure in queue. That photo of me pretty much sums up my feelings on the matter. Happy. So happy and so myself. Choosing marriage again is not something I take lightly, but also not something I can adequately address tonight with the overall mood of today being what it was…
I did, however, share a quote on Instagram earlier that I know you will agree fits perfectly if you have any knowledge of me/my story.
[I find it important to add that you also never ever have to feel guilty for making the incredibly difficult choice to leave. Although do be prepared for when those feels try to sneak attack you.]
So we are diving in! I am confident in my choice. Venue at our favorite CA beach and an amazing photographer booked for this October. Dress shopping next weekend. Dozens of little details to work out in the chaos of parenthood and a new job. Nothing is static for long around me, and it is this weird kind of bliss. Like being up late alone, listening to the sound of my wind chimes that have been with me from the very beginning.
Love, love as the verb and sweet dreams,