I haven’t written in ages, and surprisingly this half-life blog still gets views on a daily basis. How? Who are you?… I suppose if I have to ask, I’ll never know.
Seems I only post to write vague updates and this will be no great exception. I don’t even bother saying I’ll try to write more anymore because it’s just not true.. If you follow me on Instagram @Finity113, or my private trying to conceive account, @ttc.rainbow.roe most of this will be old news, but for those of you who don’t already know me over there, let’s jump right in.
- We moved back to our home town. I wasn’t sold on the idea but we had been considering buying a house since this time last year and as soon as we walked in the door here, we knew it was ours. I have five words to accurately sum up my first impression: Craft room. Built in bookshelves. Sold! Plus living in the same town as all of my husband’s family is nice, considering all of mine now live 3 hours or three days plus away by car.
- So we bought the house and it’s been about three months and it’s crazy. Double the space of our apartment, complete with a garage, back and front yard.. You know, all the standard things. My dad and uncle both told me that wherever you stand, you’ll see something that either needs repairing, improving or replaced and it is so true.
- We planted a garden. It’s been a huge learning experience. Perhaps a 30′ by 20′ garden was unrealistic for our first year here but it’s nice, aside from all the weeds. Someone in my online gardening group told me to expect to spend an hour out there weeding daily. Um.. what?
- We got a puppy! She’s a six month old, lab/husky mix and her name is Tippy. If you think that is a stupid name, don’t look at me because I did not pick it out. But I did pick her out at the shelter and aside from treating ringworm for an entire effing month it’s been great. And nobody else in the household caught it from her so that felt a little like winning.
- We were diagnosed with secondary infertility. Well… I guess I was. I am all of twenty-eight years old and taking hormone replacement therapy because my “pituitary essentially stopped talking to my ovaries” after our losses last year. My doctor’s words, not mine. Neither of my two fertility doctors has said the term pre-menopausal, but isn’t that exactly what’s going on? No? All I know is that the hormones help with everything from my anxiety to PMS to weight gain..
- Also found out the husband and I both have the homozygous C677T MTHFR mutation, which is pretty much the worst of those mutations to have. It almost guarantees any baby we have will be homozygous at well, which puts a fetus at increased risk of death, which is pretty much the cherry on top of a craptastic year as far as pregnancy and loss goes.
- Speaking of which, it’s been 333 days since before we experienced the loss of our girl, “Firefly” at 13 weeks. And everything’s changed. So.. coming up on the one year anniversary of her death and I am half waiting for the meltdown and half hoping that I have healed enough that there won’t be one. I am channeling that energy into a local pregnancy loss ministry. I’m actually a board member, fancy that! I’ve been thinking of giving all of our lost babies proper names and will need to sit down with DH and do that, if only just for us and them.
- And perhaps the last big update for now, not only am I a stay at home mom again, (which doesn’t sound nearly as cool when your only kid is four..) but will also be homeschooling said kid. *gasp* I know, right?
Soo… Yeah. That’s about everything I’ve got to say right now. Thanks for reading, stranger.
As Always Before,
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,