Warning: If you are offended by curse words and bombastic tones, please don’t read this blog post.
God damned, shit fucker, fucking cunt ass, dicklick, piss brain, fuck stick, douche jar lid, twat lock, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkk!!!!
I am angry.
I am REALLY angry.
And I don’t know who, or what, or nothing to be angry at. Certainly not my friends and family, the ones who’ve stuck by me and us these last 6 months. Certainly not the god damned mother piss ant landlord and realty company who are getting away with poisoning my child. Certainly not the credit checkers for doing their job which is to report my past financial mistakes. Certainly not all the shithole, unhealthy, now expensive places for rent in Chicago. Certainly not the lack of social services available to my little family right now to just help us get out of this hole. Certainly not myself nor my partner for not being properly (read: financially) prepared for this kind of crisis. Most definitely certainly without a doubt NEVER my beautiful, outgoing, hilarious, smart, energetic, wonderful daughter.
WHERE can I take this stress and strain and shove it in something’s bathing suit area? Where can I put my absolute frustration and angst? I’ve cried enough over all of this. I’m done mother fucking crying. I need change and action to occur. Like now.
Everywhere I turn, look, attempt to reach up and out to make good healthy choices for my family, for my daughter, for myself; I am smacked back down by some invisible large heavy hand. I’m held under, only able to take small breaths, keep my daughter afloat on my wide belly.
This shit is starting to get really mother fucking old. Like older than olde. Just mother fucking olde. I’m sure my complaining about said situation is starting to get old. But I don’t care. This shit sucks a huge cock right now. Huge. It’s not fun, nor cute, nor romantic to be living out of bins and a suitcase in your sister’s house because your home was poisoning your child. No matter how many times I keep telling myself to look at this as an adventure, I’m over it. And now, I don’t know when a change gonna come for us. Because we are struggling.
Sure, I guess I can throw my child in day care and try to find some work that pays more than minimum wage in order to be able to pay for childcare so that I can work to _________. It’s the snake eating itself scenario. The fact of the matter is that in order to make enough to make childcare justifiable, get our family out of crisis mode, get us some god damned health care – I would need to make upwards of 50-60 thousand/year. Here in Chicago. And my BA in theater just ain’t bringing me thems kinda jobs.
I’m not even exaggerating. I’m really not. I dont even know how people survive here in this city without a little help or a lot of jobs. Both of which I have neither. I have no mother or father (ha) who can come help with Scout so I can go try and get a job. And yes, I am still mother fucking angry at who, the universe? for making me borned to one such self centered, irresponsible.asshole- my dad. Yes, I am angry at the universe, god, molecular makeups for taking my mother away from me when I was 10, and leaving in her place some drugged up quarter version of who she was.
I. Am. Angry.
And I am a grown up.
And a mama.
And a good friend.
A caring, compassionate, loving, kind woman.
And contrary to how I’ve been feeling as of late, a good person. God mother shit piss fucker I. Am. A. Good. Person.
I still have a lot to offer, both creatively as a mama and with my various artistic expressions.
I just feel stuck in a rut. Like I’m trying to make lemons outta concrete so I can make a refreshing cup of cold tasty mother fucking lemonade. Because, after all SUMMER IS COMING….
And I want our girl to have a good, happy, footloose and fancy free summer 2013! I want to start this nanny job in June free of fret and frowing that takes up my day to day. I want to rediscover Chicago through the eyes of my moving and shaking toddler. I want to love and trust myself and my partner again.
I need something GOOD to happen.
Today, tomorrow, and the next day.
I need to know that all this pain, angst, fear, anxiety, and turmoil is not for naught.
I also just really needed to get this ick, and muck, and mire out of my brain muscle so that my heart muscle can be free to accept the good and loving good that comes to me and my family.
If you made it through this post, thank you. Thank you for reading and not judging me. Trust me, I do enough judging of myself for all of us. I don’t need any more criticisms disguised as witicisms.
Hellos from our Family’s Homestead (for now)
(c) Hellos From The Homestead 2013
Rounding out Month Three over here of “All our stuff is in storage & due to unforeseen circumstances out of our control our savings is gone so we cannot do a big move out west & it’s time for us to have our own space again & holy crap spring may actually be here now in chicago & WHY can’t we find a good and decent apartment in Chicago & I miss my friends & and I’m tired living out of bins and suitcases.”
We are lucky.
We are thankful.
We are grateful.
We are ready to have our own home again…or at least I am.
Ive written a lot about how thankful I am. I continue to write every day about living with gratitude in my paper journal that I still keep. I think it can be established that I am handling all this topsy turvy-staying with other people and their pets-trying to keep each day fun and magikal for lil s- pretty damn well. I have to, for me and my daughter. But mostly for my daughter. In order to do that, there has to be some sacrifices from ALL of us.
Like me with my comfort level of being a vagabond, living outa of bins, balancing childcare in a home that isn’t min, and taking care of a big dog that isn’t mine = challenging patience at this point. Or our sister who gave up her room and continues to sacrifice for us so that we can stay here and find another place without added stress or strain. Or our brother who works nights (at the awesome restaurant Found in Evanston) and is woken every morning by me and my morning habits with a loud talking, walking, RUNNING, toddler. Then there’s my partner who can’t seem to catch a break, when it comes to decent employment. Sign of the times?
In total, we are 4 adults, 1 toddler, and 1 big dog all living under one 2.5 bedroom, 1 bath house…..jealous? It’s a miracle that we still love each other. Or it’s just proof positive of what a great close knit immediate family we have for Lil S. None of us could have predicted this would be our current living situation, back in early December when we were first told of lil s’s high lead levels. And yet, here we are. I guess we honestly thought we would be doing our bigger move out West, not hunkering down for another year in Chicago.
Okay, I guess I (me mama, keeper of the house, protector and teacher of little s) REALLY hoped this was our big push out of Chicago and back to the ocean I grew up on and love so much. Especially once my (what i thought was) dear old friendship dissolved and I started to feel like I really no longer had a place nor community here in Chicago…I was mentally checked out. Then, of course as life is want to do, we were hit with the big financial setback. About which I’m still very angry about, because it could have been avoided. At least the extremes of it could have been avoided. But, I/we have to move on….
I was hoping to have been moving on to more mountainous and oceanic pastures, but instead I find myself stressing over finding our next Chicago apartment in a really hostile renting market. Like, it’s REALLY bad out there for renters right now. Why do we have to be, what multi thousand-aires, in or order to find a safe and healthy home for our child? What person/people/family can honestly afford $2,000/m for the kind of place we used to have? I just. I’m flabbergasted by my past three weeks of searching.
As if I didn’t feel downtrodden enough right now with our current economic status, lack of insurance for lil s and I, savings gone, and constant reminders of what we don’t have by living in this nice neighborhood and seeing other parents at the park. ***That is a whole other topic I have got to write about soon as well. The park as more of an adult social structure than play structure for the kiddos. Every time I go to either Welles park in the square or this little park over here in North Center, I feel like that 16 year old again- from LA with long black and purple hair, wearing a Godflesh t shirt while carrying a lunch box,and trying to make new friends at the small town high school, it’s awkWEIRD!
On the positive side of the life coin, I AM super excited about starting a nanny job for a good friend’s family in June It really is the best of all possibilities for all of us. I get to have my lil s with me, it’s only 4 days/wk, my friend and her new baby and husband are really wonderful people and have a beautiful home up in ravenswood manor, the baby is such a sweet little peanut – I just love her! And I get some extra scratch to help our family on its way to more mountainous and oceanic pastures Plus, and I’m really excited for this, I get to teach Scout so much more about life with another baby…..foreshadowing mayhaps? Hmmmm..
To recap this third month of my family wanderlust, vagabond, do-what-you-gott-do-to-get-by-ness:
* Unable to make a big move, we must find a new home here in our old city.
* Our family is awesome.
* I’m still having a hard go with the loss of a friendship but am finding new ways of handling it.
* We had a fun trip to The Dells with family then immediately got sick.
* Easter time was fun w/lil s and seeing some family/spending the week with grandma Judy was just what the mom needed.
* Sometimes you can’t be friends with some family on FB.
* looking forward to June and (hopefully) lil s’s last round of lead poisoning tests, because they suck big time.
* There are a lot of goals, dreams, desires I have for our little girl. The most important of which is to stop the cycle of poverty and insecurity that was passed down to me from both of my irresponsible (worthless) parents. One step at a time….
* Two fun projects are on the horizon for this girl: one is theater/acting related and the other is care taking/loving/ growing related.
* Getting to participate in the Global Activism Expo with WBEZ again was exactly the kick start I needed and reminded me that I still am more than the sum parts of these last 5 months.
* The friends I have are really good to me/us and I’m beyond grateful for them….even if we don’t get to spend lots of time together.
* I hate being sick as a mom. It sucks. A lot. I’ve been sick twice now in the past 4 weeks.
* I’m glad I still breastfeeding because the bubs hasn’t gotten sick once in the past 4 weeks.
* I’m happy with my current place in life, ie. being just a mom right now. It’s the most important and rewarding job I will ever have and I don’t feel the need nor desire to “have or do it all” right now. Being this little girl’s teacher, guide, chef, comforter, mom is enough.
Thanks for reading, if you do.
I know I’m not moving mountains or changing the world with this blog – heck, I don’t even have any followers- but I am creating a wonderful world for my daughter and this blog is a part of it.
Hellos from our family’s Homestead,
(c) HELLOS FROM THE HOMESTEAD 2013
I think we can safely say that the past few months have been a shit show.
Lead poisoning, doctors bills, downstairs neighbor, putting stuff in storage, traveling, staying with family members in 3 different states, a miscarriage, unexpected big financial setback, loss of a 20 year friendship, animal hair wherever we stay (new biggest pet peeve- har har), and now there’s more issues with my mentally mental mother….
There have been moments of me on my knees just saying out loud “Enough.”
“Please universe, god, allah, bhuddah….enough alright with the challenging life antics.”
“We get it, mostly. We appreciate our lives, family, friends, health, opportunities. Can we please just get a break?”
And yet, even in my darkest hours; which only come when lil s is sleeping or not in the room with me, because tiny girlfriend don’t need that shit. She’s got to focus on growing, laughing, playing, smiling, snoring, running, dancing, and getting the rest of this stupid heavy metal \m/ out of her body. She does not need to add crying-scared-expressive mama to her 16 month old narrative of life thus far. There have been a couple tears dropped around her, but almost always I keep all this to myself…and anyone who will listen or read.
But back to my original point…
Even in my darkest hours, I am grateful. I am thankful. I am abundantly aware how lucky we are to have the minds and brains we do, the compassion and abilities for expression, our families and true friends, and of course our beautiful girl with that cute-face-smile. We have all of that…and then some. We are not starving. We do not live in a war zone. We are never too cold nor too hot. We are not thirsty. We do not have to stay in shelters or live out of our car. We are going through a challenging time, but we are not in any danger and we love each other very much. We ARE tired. We are that. But we are parents working really hard to turn things around for us…for our girl.
Which leads me to the true reason why I’m up at 1:30am writing a blog while the babe sleeps/snores…I get to lay here and listen to these tiny woodland creature sounds. I am fortunate. And I am grateful. I always am anyway- but tonight after a fun day with family and now missing my mister even more- I started feeling the sads….Till a post from ‘the progressive parent’ popped up on my FB feed. It was a picture of her nursing her little boy that was born 2days after lil s and he passed away from SUDC seven weeks ago.
This family, this woman, this mama and her journey through unimaginable grief has been at the forefront of my mind most days when I’m too tired to be patient…with anyone…including myself. I cannot begin to comprehend how one starts to make a ‘new normal’ after the death of a child. Interestingly, this mama is chronicling her whole process on FB and her blog and tumblr etc… Which is where she lived her life as well, so it makes sense that she would turn to the online community she built for support. Or just to say, “fuck this shit!” Which is what I would be saying all the time.
This family’s story is long, complex, and nuanced like the rest of anybody living on this planet; but for some reason my heart mind is so drawn to them. Maybe it’s because they’re around my age, live in so cal, and ‘seem’ like people I grew up with. Maybe it’s because our kids are two days apart, and their son was a super cute patoot. Maybe its just something so simple as even reading about this for the first time back in Feb, made my heart ache and my brain hurt so much that it gave me immediate perspective on our own situation. Or it could be that this woman is receiving backlash online from people because she’s asked for donations to help her family. There’s an entire message board dedicated to questioning whether this death was a hoax! A hoax? Are you fucking kidding me? What person would make up the death of their 15 month old for money….okay, I’m sure it’s been done but this woman, this family is NOT doing that.
Additionally, and the reason I was linked up to her story through BWF (birthwithoutfear.com), was that someone -a “reader of her blog it seems” called CPS (child protective services) on this family stating that they thought this woman was giving her children marijuana and that her son must of died from something else other than SUDC. This family lives in Southern California, so medical marijuana is legal and the Progressive Parent writes about the benefits of a more natural lifestyle vs the bs hopped up on prescription meds, eating GMO foods fast culture we have around us. This mama wrote a post about how she’s now being subjected to scrutiny of the highest order (the possibility of her other children being taken away from her) while trying to work through the dark grieving process of losing her young son. This is when I fucking hate the Internet. All these assholes chiming in, attacking this woman, during this time. Sickening. I agree that yes, she puts her and her family out there for public scrutiny with her blog, FB, tumblr posts….but that doesn’t mean she’s asking to be disgustingly ridiculed while being open about this great loss. Her sharing is helping other families, which is helping her….
I don’t think you have to be a parent to feel for this family or any family that experiences this. Losing a child is the worst imaginable all around pain a parent go through. And I’m beyond grateful to be sitting here writing about this….while my wee lass saws tiny logs in her sleep and I keep making sure she’s breathing. It terrifies at times to know that I have absolutely no control over how a lot of her life will go. But I will do everything in my power and with my creative mind to make sure she is happy, safe, and secure. Right now, today, we do this with the choices we’ve made as a family like: to continue co-sleeping till we get a new and healthy home, continue breastfeeding, make sure we as parents are mentally and emotionally stable, and letting go of any need to control any of what’s transpired these last months.
Tonight is a night I will not get enough of sleep.
I’m okay with that.
That’s what my aunt’s keurig is for, right?
Goodnight from a sleepy Homestead,
And for anyone who is interested, you can find information about SUDC here: http://www.sudc.org/
And the progressive parent blog here:
After writing for a couple hours on my blogger app for smartphone about some monumental stuff here…with great humility, wit, and sarcasm….the app malfunctioned and didn’t save the post. As lil s’s hilarious app for iPad -called Endless Alphabet- would give the ‘meh mehhh’ sad trombone, fart noise sound for misplaced letter….it would really Wah Wahhhh for this flubbubbub. What ya gonna do though, ya know? I did want to throw my phone. I did want to do that. But instead, I laughed, closed the app, and carried on with the rest of my days…. A week later, I’m trying this again. As I now have a little time to write-it-out. I did make a list of things that have been bumping around in my brain. Some of which is better as part of a bullet list than expanded upon.
So…here go my WANDERLUST MONTH TWO TOP TEN:
* The past is good for history, memories, nostalgia etc…Time to focus on the present.
* Stopping the cycle of poverty we are currently engaged in, for Scout and her future. I will expand more on this later, but if you have access to HBO you should watch “American Winter.”
* Received an “I’m sorry your childhood was really f’d up” letter from my mom. Immediately called my old therapist. Started talk therapy just in time for another of my mother’s ‘episodes.’
* I drink and enjoy wine to enjoy it, not to escape from my kid or my responsibilities as a parent. It seems like some weird right-of-passage into motherhood of a toddler that all moms can seem to joke about is drinking a bottle of wine. Um, okay. On that note though, I’ve enjoyed some lovely wines from the Bogle winery.
*Just because you read ‘Bringing up bebe’ doesn’t mean you have a license to continue being a selfish twat. I read that book, then received the latest ‘Top 100 Lessons of Bringing up Bebe’ as a gift. Yep, still find that book of wannabe pretentiousness to be somewhat insightful, mostly funny, and nothing new. If only we all could just whisk off to France to raise our children, how wonderful would that be. I’m just glad I’m not influenced by someone else’s parenting styles and that I’m completely happy sacrificing myself for the development of my daughter… It’s not forever. I’m not unhappy about doing it. I didn’t have kids till later (34) so its a clear choice for me.
* You don’t ‘bounce back’ after having a kid, you shift and groove forward. Your body is changed forever in some way. I wish moms I’ve met in playgroups, online, and just in daily life would stop acting like they’re in high school. Stop with the comparing and competition!!! I ain’t got time for that bullshit.
* Everyone labors, births, and parents differently. Unless someone asks for your direct opinion on their choices, Stfu. Additionally, I’m sick of the “mommy wars,” Its not a real concept. Stop fueling a fake fire. These women online with all their opinions on all sides of the breastfeeding, co sleeping, car seat topics are fucking ridiculous. How do any of them have time to waste on what someone else is doing?
* There is no such thing as having and doing it all. It is not possible. Be a good person, grow good people or have a good and decent career and leave the world a better place than how you found it. Be decent, compassionate, and patient with each other and yourself. This is what will keep our humanity evolving.
* Perhaps different parenting styles, philosophies, attitudes can be so great that they end (or at least put a big break) in long term friendships.
* Sometimes a 20 year friendship ends abruptly. Handle yourself and the situation better and with more grace than you would have handled it at the time your started the friendship.
EXTRAS WORTH NOTE:
** I loathe dog hair with every fiber of my being but we love the furry ones. We will need to do some major scouting to find the perfect pet for lil s.
** Stepping on a razor in the bath while saving your daughter from falling out of the bath and onto her head, does not hurt till the adrenaline wears off and your mate is helping you decide whether to go to the ER whilst bandaging up said foot.
** The arrival of a friend’s beautiful little girl, gave this mama here a serious case of the Baby Fever. My ovaries a physically aching to give lil s a sibling. What the what?! We don’t even have a permanent residence yet, how could I possibly want to be preggo again? #breederwoes #overpopulationavoidance #watchoutduggars
So for those keeping up with us here, on FB or Instagram, or *gasp* in real life….We are as a whole, doing really good. Considering everything we’ve gone through these last 4 months and all the sacrifices we’ve been making. Wanna know how I know we’re doing good? Número UNO (and most important) is little s’s lead levels are down to a 9 (from a 13 in Jan and 15 in Dec), her anemia is kapoot, and she is going through major growth spurts at a time when most kids plateau. She is healthy and we couldn’t ask for more….except for more of the same of course. We want her lead free by her next appointment in June. It will happen, I just know it! Número DUO is how happy lil s continues to be. Yes, we sure are experiencing our fair share of standard developmental tantrums, but there is nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to her emotional well being and development. Except of course for her excelling speech, language, and cognitive abilities. I know all parents think this, but we really do have one smart and hilarious kiddo on our hands. Not to forget that she is quite the beauty….even with mama’s gapped teeth that she seems to be inheriting for now.
Most days I look at her in awe that just some human fluids and a little luck, along with my body and healthy habits, made this gorgeous little creature. Seriously, it confounds me most days. Not that her father and I are ugly troll people or something, but supermodels we are not…and yet somehow we have this golden haired, grey eyed babe. It’s flipping awesome! As March comes to a close along with our 2nd full month of being a wanderlust family, I am left with feelings of: Gratitude to our family and friends for their constant love and support. Slight anxiety with the unknown. Excitement for our future as a family, even if that means getting another place here in Chicago and putting our west coast dreams on hold till we’re better off financially. Grief at the loss of an old and dear friendship happening alongside some personal and financial setbacks. And lastly, Peace with the good job I’ve been doing as mama and the personal sacrifices I’ve made to protect and care for myself and my family. Looking forward to being with family for Easters next weekend. Even though we don’t really celebrate the Jesus kind of Easter. It should still be fun to see little s do an egg hunt.
Hellos from our Family’s Homestead, Jess
HELLOS FROM THE HOMESTEAD 2013
Don’t mind me. Just over here goin hash tag crazy…. Funny enough, that was the way I broke the ice with my 2.3 hr travel companions that lil s and I were sandwiched between. I approached them (two young hip males, one of which ended up being a dad to a 9 month old with another one on the way) and I said, “congratulations, its a girl! HashTag YAYaKidNextToMeOnACrowdedPlaneYAY!” They totes lol’d and welcomed lil s and I into their hot breath, smelling like cheetos and cologne, cocoon row.
This was after I walked down the front of the very narrow aisle, carrying way too much stuff and my mini me, hitting people’s chairbacks with my obese diaper Le Sport Sac. Complete with newly acquired goat doll (from the Carl Sandburg house earlier that morning) that made a loud goat cry every time the fat bag made contact with the back of a chair/person. I stopped part way through, looked up at the packed plane -that was staring at us by this point- and said, “Yep yep, I’m THAT person aren’t I.” To which half the plane laughed, which made lil s laugh, then everyone ‘awed’ and clapped. The other half of the plane mimicked the goat sound that the doll made.
This made my tension from the earlier plane ride and Asheville airport experience just melt away. Not that it was a bad experience, just a bit bumpy is all. Humor cures all ailments. Or at least makes you laugh – which is better than crying, non? I was nervous about how this day was gonna go down, being my first flight with my bubs. And I am happy to report that not only did everything go as swimmingly as it could for a full day of travel with a sickish toddler, but I experienced and watched people helping each other. Strangers helping strangers and being patient with one another.
The fact that this helping is a rarity to me, just further confirms why we are attempting a bigger move for our family. No offense to Chicago and the Midwest, I’m just “over it” as the kids say. I wouldn’t say that I’m generally jaded, because I do experience good moments here and there where people’s humanity really shines through. But for ME, after 14 years of being here, this city has lost it’s luster. But I digress……
Lets get back to strangers helping strangers and helping me/us….
I absolutely do not venture into any day assuming that someone will help me…with anything…let alone something as simple as holding a door open for me while I try and handle a lot of stuff and my critter. I don’t expect people to be patient with me/us while my daughter tries to navigate those tiny legs around this big city. I basically don’t expect anything out of people, because then that way I can’t be disappointed when people try to scurry past, get impatient, don’t hold doors, honk their horns repeatedly, or yell profanity. (All of these things have happened within the past oh 3 months, along with the majority of people on the street stopping to tell me what an absolute beauty I have and how lucky I am).
So when it came time to prepping for 3 airports and 2 planes with me being a breastfeeding mama and lil s having her first real bad cough, I just “put on my big girl pants” as an old friend would say, and hoped for the best. Which is what we got. People, unprompted helped me with my stupid oversized stroller that I just had to bring on this trip and had to break down and set back up at every interval. At first I was like, “Why are people helping me? What’s their ulterior motive?” Then I realized, “Oh wait, this is how people CAN treat each other.” We don’t have to be so separated by our fears of each other or the stresses of situations. Neato.
Fortunately, the two gents we were sandwiched between weren’t weirdos when I had to BF lil s during the flight. Neither of them tried to sneak a peek at my mom peaks. In fact both quickly addressed it during the take off and told me not to worry, which was a huge relief to me. Huge. Unless you’ve been a lactating mama trying to nurse a squirmy toddler in public, you don’t really appreciate how nice it is when you’re treated as normal instead of OH MY GOD THERE’S A LADY WITH A BOOB AND SHE’S FEEDING HER CHILD I SHOULD FEEL WEIRD AND INAPPROPRIATE ABOUT IT!! It was an added bonus that one of the guys is a father and could so care less about my boob and more about his impending “going to have 2 under 2″ woah boy.”
So yes, all in all the skies were very friendly to lil s and I.
We got to meet the captains and get our wingz
Everyone in our nearby rows was hilarious and had fun with the 2.5 hr flight.
I had great conversations with my flight mates.
People helped us on board, to our baggage claim, and out to our pick up car.
I watched other strangers help an elderly couple and another mother and daughter who were both in wheelchairs.
This gave me some hope. As silly as it may sound, but it did, it gave me hope for lil s’s future. Maybe people aren’t as self absorbed as most of them seem…most of the time. Maybe strangers do help each other first instead of immediately being an impatient asshole. And maybe if we aren’t immediately able to relocate our family the way we want to right now, I can find some of this kindness in strangers here in Chicago……
Hellos from our temp Homestead,
(c) Hellos from the Homestead 2013
Something tells me that I’m not supposed to write about this nor not talk about it in “mixed company.” Something tells me I don’t have the right to talk about this, because it was all over so quickly. Something tells me I should just ignore my sad feelings, because its probably just my hormones balancing out anyway. Something tells me that I should just keep moving forward and forget about it. We have too much going on already. I have so much right now, just today, to focus on that taking time to blog to my small readership is a waste of time. Something tells me that now that the physical parts have mostly passed, I should be feeling hunky dory. Which is exactly why I’m writing about this…..
It’s not to be some pretend marter. It’s not to gain false sympathies. It’s not to further annoy those who are already annoyed by how much I share online. It’s not to be dramatic or make a big deal out of this. It’s not to shock those who don’t know. Im writing for me, to the future me who will read this in a few months (because I always go back and read my writings when I have time) and perhaps gain some perspective, or as my past posts have shown to do, perhaps help someone else going through something similar.
“It was’t good timing.” “You weren’t THAT pregnant.” “Maybe it was just a heavy period…that happened to be 13 days late.” (It wasn’t by the way. I was pregnant) “Well, at least you know you want more kids now.” “At least you weren’t that far along.” “It’s better this way, its not good timing.” “You just got you’re body back, would you really want to be pregnant again?” “I don’t feel like our family is complete.” And lastly from my doctor, “I don’t see any reason why you can’t have more kids. It was just a fluke thing that happens to most women at one time or another.”
All of the above things are factual statements by myself and others close to us over the last couple weeks. Three weeks ago I found out I was pregnant again. After being so busy with packing and moving I didnt notice how late I was till we got down to North Carolina and I took a test Friday night that initially came up negative, then was positive in the morning. Just a couple hours after seeing the updated results, getting excited (even given our transient situation right now), and waiting for my partner to stop sleeping in so I could share the news…is when ‘it’ started.
I don’t need to share the physical details, but they lasted for about 10 days with the worst of it being on Sunday and Monday. We knew what to do of things got worse and I was in communication with my doctor up in Chicago. Luckily your body (most times) knows what to do and takes care of things in a timely fashion. How polite of it. But just to be sure everything was a ok, I went to my doctor when we got back a week ago. And everything seems ok. There’s nothing standing out as to why the pregnancy didn’t take. It’s just didnt. Sometimes these things happen.
It seems like actually, from most of the women I know, this happens quite frequently. And nobody talks about it till after the fact. But it fucken hurts. And it sucks. And its sad. Even if its not good timing, you weren’t that far along, or you weren’t ever planning on having kids; when a miscarriage happens its still a loss. Whether that’s a loss of an idea, or potential, or the physical child- its a loss. And its okay to feel that loss and move on…
Everyone deals with it differently. I happen to know a few friends on FB hid me and my baby updates all of last year because they couldn’t handle all the pictures and updates of me with my lil s while faced with their loss. This is a very real thing and its heartbreaking. Period. (See what I did there with the pun?)
What I’m getting at is that each woman has to do what’s best for her when this happens. Some women totally shut themselves off and don’t want to talk about it at all. Other women are able to fully embrace it as a purely physical happening and move on. Some have a very difficult time with any stage of miscarriage, especially if they’re having a difficult time getting pregnant. Some women with creativity on their side are able to work through it with their art like the song segment on NPR yesterday (https://soundcloud.com/texasmusicmatters/miranda-dodson-segment-try). Others turn to their blogs or social media outlets to share and be shared. And there’s others who strictly keep it to themselves and only close friends family as a way to heal. Just like with the grieving process, there is no “right way” to process something that is very physical and oh so emotional as well. Not to mention, all the hormonal changes that happen sooooo quickly. Yeesh! It was like being 13 again with my first period of confusion and fear mixed with being in my 20′s and having my first miscarriage, along with being preggo and hormones out the roof! Yeeowzah!
But I digress.
For me, the past three weeks with 10 days of intense physical changes grouped with traveling and adjusting to another temporary surrounding AND my partner being on the opposite side of the US…well it has left me feeling: a bit blue, mostly tired from not having any breaks with child care, and yearning to be settled and move onward…as a family.
Yes, it was not good timing.
But its hard not to look at lil s and how awesome she is and not think “what if.”
Yes, I am very happy to know 100%, without a doubt that I’d like to have one more child.
Yes, I am thankful for my health and happiness.
But I’m also a little sad.
And I’m writing about it.
To let it go and move on….
Hellos from our temp Homestead,
(c) Hellos from the Homestead 2013