Tonight I am angry. Right now is one of those times that I just can’t understand why I never got to be a mother and it is ticking me off. I don’t get why I always have wanted children of my own so much if that is not meant to be a part of my life. In a little over a week, I will be turning thirty-five. I feel that this is the stage of my life where I need to give up on that dream and learn to accept it… and, I will, eventually. But for right here, right now? I’m going to let myself ride the roller-coaster of emotions that is grief, and that’s ok.
I’ve been wanting to write for ages but never know quite what to say, rather, never end up doing it. There are so many topics and issues and I don’t even know where to begin. For a while now I’ve been grieving the loss of my youth. I try to live my life and stay positive but it always haunts me. I’m fairly certain it has a lot to do with the fact that both of my parents died so young. I figure somewhere in my mind that leads me to believe I will ultimately die young as well.
On that note, I am back on WW and losing weight again. Yesterday I celebrated having lost 64 lbs in 4 months. Right now I am 67 lbs away from getting back to the weight I was in 2012 before I relapsed and started to regain, so I’m almost halfway there.
I go back and forth on whether or not I still want to have kids someday. Being a mother has always been my greatest aspiration. As of late, I’ve questioned whether it is still what I want. I’m sure that probably has a lot to do with my aforementioned fear of getting older. I suppose only time will tell.
Sunday will be the 15th Mothers Day that has passed since my mom died. The sorrow and loss is just as deep, just as raw as it was the first time in 2000. That kind of grief that hurts so much it feels like you’re being kicked in the chest. Fifteen years she’s been gone and still all of the emotions and stages of grief decide to flood back whenever they please. Just a little while ago I picked up “A Mother Loss Workbook” and skimmed through for a few minutes. I mumbled to myself, “This is stupid” and tossed the book aside. I can’t help but wonder if it actually is or if I just don’t want to try to deal with it. Considering I have had the book for years and hardly opened it I would have to guess it is probably the latter scenario.
Anyhow, I realize it has been ages since I’ve updated my blog. I have gained back probably close to 100 pounds. I am currently in the relapse stage of the whole “Cycle of Change”. I am fighting as hard as I can. I am gaining back a lot slower than other times and am hoping and praying to be able to get back on track before I gain everything back again.
As extremely depressing as this blog entry has been so far, things are actually going well. My husband Dave and I are happily married and in love and we have 2 sweet little doggy girls that we love very much. Hilariously enough, right as I finished typing that last sentence I heard a familiar sound… Ndnd (In-Dun-Da), our 7 year old Shih Tzu, dropping a pebble on the floor. In the event that a tiny pebble gets tracked in on someone’s shoe, NdNd will be sure to find it and play with it until one of us takes it away. Silly girl. 🙂
Well, it’s not much, but here it is… my first blog post in many moons. It feels nice. 🙂
Recently I came to this page and noticed that, throughout the entire year of 2012, I never once wrote in this blog. In the words of my ever-so-wise Weight Watchers leader, Kim- life happened. A whole lot of life happened in 2012. I was hospitalized with a DVT in my left arm in February. I was in Cardiac ICU for about a week. During my hospitalization they found that I had something called Thoracic Outlet Syndrome (the area between my collarbone and top left rib was too small and causing damage to some veins and nerves). After several surgeries including putting a shunt in my arm and doing an angioplasty to remove the massive blod clot that spread from my heart through my left arm, they decided the only way to ensure this would never happen again was to remove my top left rib. I had a top left rib resection on March 2, 2012, the day before my 30th birthday.
Throughout my somewhat lengthy hospital stay I was constantly comforting myself with foods of all kinds. I was able to order anything I wanted off the menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The hospital I was in even had a McDonald’s in it, for Pete’s sake. I was livin’ the fatty dream, let me tell ya. That lead me to gain back 50 pounds throughout the year as I kept on treating myself for months on end. I still stand behind what I’ve said for years now… I will NEVER GIVE UP!!! I am on my way back down, slowly but surely. This journey is a lifelong one. I know myself well enough to know that there will always be bumps in the road, often pretty big ones, but I will always keep on fighting!
In other big news, the love of my life proposed to me on June 22, 2012. We are getting married on April 27, 2013 and I am so excited to spend the rest of my life with him! He has been here for me through thick and thin and I know that we both will be for each other for the rest of this journey called life. I knew we were in this for the long haul when he was holding my barf bucket in the hospital while I projectile vomited into it and cried. That, my friends, is love. 🙂
September 11, 2001… So many lives lost… Even more greatly affected by this unprecedented tragedy. Most, if not all Americans remember exactly what they were doing when they heard of the towers falling. That day will remain engrained in our memories for our lifetimes and passed on to future generations.
Today (or yesterday, technically, considering it is now after midnight) marked ten years since that infamous day… and reminded me how our country, while never forgetting all who were lost, has pulled through and thrived. I was reminded of this because today was such a lovely day in so many ways. While it was the anniversary of perhaps the greatest disaster in American history, it was also a day filled with beauty.
I attended the fifth birthday party of my boyfriend Dave’s niece today, and it reminded me of how life goes on. The men who attacked us that day aimed to bring our country down… and they failed miserably. If anything, I think the 9/11 attack lit a fire under the “Land of the Free” and brought an almost lost patriotism back to us. It reminded many of us just how precious life is and to never take it for granted.
I read the same words over and over again in the hopes that my mind will stop reeling and eventually the words will start to make some sense… but it never works. My thoughts are so scattered all over the place that I cannot retain anything I try to read. I try to watch tv and movies and the same thing happens. I can’t pay attention to save my life (maybe cuz I’m too broke? haha). I was about to say that, somewhere along the line, I lost the ability to concentrate, however, that statement isn’t completely accurate, being as I know exactly at what point I lost that ability. When I was a little girl I was reading constantly… I loved it. When I started college, I tested high enough to have the opportunity to be in a special reading course called “Logos”, which I was really proud of and excited about venturing into. As I mentioned in my last entry, my mom died just a few days after I started college. That was the end of my ability to concentrate. For one reason or other, it left and has never come back. As a matter of fact, recently it has gotten worse. It used to just be that I wasn’t able to concentrate on reading, but now I am also unable to concentrate enough to watch tv or movies. So, my down time is usually spent trolling around the net and listening to music.
The rest of this has nothing to do with the first part. Deal with it. …I’ve been wondering a lot lately what I have to offer. Is being a kind person enough of a contribution to our planet? I say no. I need to figure out what I can do to make some sort of difference in this world. I used to feel like I made a difference when I was working with children. A lot of people just considered me to be some sort of glorified babysitter, but I know that it is a lot more than that. I can’t even begin to describe the way it feels to make a difference in a child’s life. There are no words.
So, does this mean if I start caring for children again that all of the sudden I will feel like a productive member of society? Not in the least. I’m not sure if I could ever do enough to make myself feel “worthy”. Worthy of what? I don’t know. I do know, however, that I am a child of God, and that is where my worth lies. So, if I know that… then why can’t I take it to heart? For some reason, I hear all of Satan’s lies about me loud and clear… but can never seem to hear the Lord’s still, small voice. Sometimes I wish He would just shake me silly and scream in my face, “You are MINE and I love you and that is all that matters!!!” Every other aspect of life pales in comparison to His unyielding love.
Twelve years ago this evening, Laura came and picked me up from my college dorm across town. It was my fifth night away from home and I was already terribly homesick… I was always a mama’s girl. My mom was feeling it too. She had told me the night that I moved into the dormitory that, when she had dropped me and all of my things off there earlier that day, she felt a pang in her chest as she drove away. She had been feeling really sick since then and was having a lot of trouble breathing. From the way she had described feeling to me over the phone, my first thought was that she had pneumonia. She called her doctor and he called in a script for an inhaler but it wasn’t helping much. So, Laura and I paid her a visit and brought over some supper. I was worried sick about my mom… but had no idea it would be the last time I would ever see her alive.
I have been feeling rather off all day today and couldn’t quite put my finger on what was going on. Once I got home from having my sutures removed in Iowa City and began to relax it dawned on me that twelve years ago today was the last time I saw my mom alive… and in the wee hours of tomorrow morning it will have been twelve long years since she’s been gone from this world. I feel a bit better knowing that at least there is a method to the madness.