Plans

A quote from Grey's Anatomy by vet, Dr. Finn Dandridge:


Liz was my wife. When she died, you do this thing where you stop making plans because you had plans and there was a car crash and your plans dissapear. I just try to get from sun up to sun down. That's as far into the future as I can handle and I've been fine with that, I have, but right now, looking at you, damn, I have all kinds of plans.

I've been watching Grey's Anatomy from the beginning lately (thank you Netflix Instant Streaming) and this quote jumped out at me when I heard it the other day because I can completely relate.

Plans. Ugh. I've had to cancel plans left and right and presently I'm at the point where I have stopped making them, at least for now. I know that'll change, but for the time being, like Finn said, it's sun up to sun down and that's as far as I can see. 

Serenity

After hearing some wholly disappointing news yesterday, I forced myself to say The Serenity Prayer, and mean it.

It took me a few minutes to speak aloud the short prayer, but like I said, I didn't want to simply recite it, I wanted to speak it honestly.

God grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change;

I let the tears flow down my cheeks as I slowly uttered this first line, and paused to let myself welcome acceptance. Lately, I've been putting too much energy into being angry at the things that I cannot change, namely, my own issues with pregnancy, jealousy of others' pregnancy, and most recently, the instigator of the prayer and this post, a choice a family member made regarding pregnancy that I do not agree with. 

Dwelling on that which is unchangeable will drive a person mad. I need to take my own advice that I lately gave to my brother-in-law regarding a particularly crushing break-up: "Go ahead and mope, cry about it, feel how painful it is, and then pick yourself up and start to move on. Pretend to have fun. Pretend everything is okay. You may end up having fun by accident, and eventually everything will be okay." I've done my share of moping and crying about the things in my life which I cannot change; it is time to have some accidental fun and allow it to heal me. I do admit, as I've said in the past, that each new pregnancy and birth announcement is a fresh jab at the heart, but I can't allow myself to dwell on them. Maybe it is okay if I feel the initial sting of the good news, as long as I heed my own counsel and only allow it to bitterly occupy my emotions for a fraction of the time I've allowed for it in the past. It's time to accept that bitterness and anger will not change my past or my present situation.

Once I felt I'd started the prayer truthfully, I finished the rest of it and felt some of the disappointment wash away. I still don't agree with the choice she made, but (un?)fortunately I don't have to. 

I must remember to say this prayer sincerely to set myself at ease during times of hardship and disappointment, and accept those things I cannot change.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.

Retail Therapy

Every time the weather starts to get warmer I indulge in a little retail therapy. Usually I do my therapeutic shopping alone, but then wish I had one of my mejor amigas there with me to give me a second opinion. This time I went with the hubs, which of course meant Home Depot also had to be thrown into the mix.

Luckily, I got the light fixtures I wanted for the house at the Depot and later scored some articles of clothing to refresh my wardrobe with minimal complaints about the cost from the peanut gallery; although the complaints I got were entertaining both for me and the work staff:

Cashier: "Would you like the receipt emailed to you?"
Husband: "No thanks, I don't want to be reminded of this transaction ever again."

Despite thinking "wow I should really start working out again," (possible post on fitness or lack thereof in the near future) buying new clothes incites a feeling of optimism and confidence that is much needed at this time in my life.

See below the latest stimulants of my endorphins:


Max Studio dress bought at Marshall's for $30. Woo hoo!

Acquired at Nordstrom Rack but in a brighter blue than shown below.

Jacket from Nordstrom Rack bought with the intention of wearing with the Max Studio dress above.

I saw the dress below in navy a year ago when shopping for something to wear to one of the many weddings of last season and LOVED it. It was just a little expensive, though ($248!!!) I found it in this color online this month for $62 and plan to wear it to one of this year's weddings!

I recently discovered The Polkadot Alley on Facebook and am a little obsessed with their goods. This is the first one that I actually bought and am still waiting to get it in the mail so I can see if it is as comfy as it looks. 

Happy happy. Joy joy.

Disconnect

It has taken me a few weeks to put my finger on this unfamiliar feeling I've had for at least the last couple of months, but I finally got it figured out. It's a disconnect. What I feel all too often is disconnected from my friends, peers, coworkers, and family. Regardless of the countless ways there are to stay connected to people: email, text, Facebook, Twitter, blogs, shall I go on?, I've never felt more disconnected from the world around me. It's not all the time, but it's enough that it has caught my attention and now that I have a name for it I can't stop analyzing when it started and how often it happens. 

At this age my friends are single, married, married with children, divorced, you name it. Originally I thought it was being at all these different stages in our lives that makes me feel like we're not on the same page; so I've tended to believe our different paths in life have a lot to do with the disconnect. Fellow childless friends have vocalized their discontent with the growing number of baby pictures filling up their Facebook news feeds. They're not interested in seeing your baby at one month, then two months, then three months and so on. Just as married friends aren't as entertained as they used to be by hashing out every detail of the text message conversation that led to the latest argument with your boyfriend. So feeling disconnected cannot be a sentiment exclusive to me, which makes me wonder, what are some of my friends going through that they don't feel up to sharing with me now that they're in this certain place in their lives that I've either left behind or haven't visited yet? Are they feeling just as disconnected from me as I feel from them?

Sometimes I even feel disconnected from myself, which surely makes it all the more difficult to find common ground with my peers. A friend recently found out about my two miscarriages and when she said, "I'm so sorry," I brushed it off with a quick, "oh it's fine." Fine? Fine! Who am I kidding? Nothing about it is "fine" and I can't expect to identify with others when I won't even take more than a millisecond to consider what I'm feeling when faced with the opportunity to share whatever that is. Clearly, I'm widening the moat and reinforcing the walls surrounding the Kingy castle. I can't complain that no one is coming in, when I haven't even put down the drawbridge. 

But to be honest, I'm probably not ready to yet. Writing about how I feel has been helpful but this blog thus far has been more of a private journal, given that approximately 4 people are aware of its existence. And I think there's a reason for the privacy. I'm not ready to fully connect again, but I'm working on it.

Today I had lunch with a friend who I hadn't seen in a long time. At first I was a little nervous, because I have felt this disconnect with almost everyone else in my life lately, so it only seemed logical that I would feel the same with someone who I haven't seen for almost a year. Luckily, it turned out that despite time and distance I didn't feel the usual disconnect. Instead we had such a nice time together that we didn't stop talking from "hello" until "goodbye." It was really fantastic, but even so, I kept a little part of me hidden and veered the conversation away from the pains that have truly defined me as of late.

This lunch date served as a reminder that I need to surround myself with the people who have been there for me through all kinds of life events and not shut them out. So for now, I'm finding my way from one phase into the next, trying to figure out where everyone from various eras of my life fits in.

I Made It Through the Rain

On Saturday I went to a Barry Manilow concert with my mom. [Insert private snicker here, go ahead, everyone else did.] Actually, I was pretty excited to go. When I was in elementary school, I used to listen to my mom's Barry Manilow CDs and "choreograph" dances to "Mandy" and his other hits in our living room.

Approximately two decades have passed since then, but it turned out that I remembered a lot of his songs, some of which I've always known, but didn't realize were Manilow originals ("Copacobana" anyone?). Others were new to me like the song "I Made It Through the Rain." As he performed this song, I found myself captivated by the emotion in both the words and the music. It felt as though he were singing directly to me (something apparently also felt by a woman behind us who yelled, "RIGHT NOWWWWW," when he sang the lyric, "When can I touch you?" in another song, hehe).

Here's the chorus from "I Made It Through the Rain"

I made it through the rain

I kept my world protected

I made it through the rain

I kept my point of view

I made it through the rain

And found myself respected

By the others who

Got rained on, too

And made it through 

The rain has poured off and on over the last year, but I've definitely come out wiser, hopefully stronger, and with an appreciation for the others who've been stuck in a downpour without an umbrella.

I Made It Through the Rain - Barry Manilow

Range of Emotions

Sorrowful. Angry. Jealous... Scared. Will any of these emotions lead me down the path to healing?

Sorrowful

It goes without saying that I'm sad. I've had two unsuccessful pregnancies; no one expects me to be happy. When I think about it, which is every second of every day, sure I'm sad, but when I let myself reflect deeply on what happened, I feel real sorrow. It's not something I allow myself to do often; I have to get on with my life and attend to the many joys that remain. But now is one of those times I'm letting myself, no, making myself, feel what has happened by organizing my emotions into sentences. I'm sad because I let my husband down because my body didn't respond properly to pregnancy. I know he doesn't blame me, but I also know his hopes we're extinguished the same time as mine. It makes me sad to think about the Christmas I had already started to imagine with a one month old and know that this year it is not destined to be. Sorrow is a natural response to loss. I hope the tears I already have and will shed cleanse me of the inevitable sorrow, preparing me for a brighter tomorrow.

Angry

It's a stage in the grief cycle, but will it help me heal? So far it seems to darken my day not help me to be happy. And isn't that what the goal is? To find happiness? But I'm angry with the world. It's cruel, it's unfair, it's unfamiliar. I'm angry with myself for letting my guard down. I knew this was a possibility, in fact I was no stranger to the possibility, but I let myself hope this time would end differently. I'm angry because people pity me, but I don't want to talk about it, or I do and they're not asking the right questions.

Jealous

What a hateful, hateful emotion. I should be happy for people who have everything they've dreamed of. In fact, I've been one of those people for most of my life. Overall, I still am. There's just one missing piece that is overwhelming the other joys these days and when I see those who have that piece I am jealous. The jealousy started a long time ago, before I really knew what I was missing out on. I would hear that a friend, acquaintance, coworker... whoever, was pregnant and little by little the excitement I used to feel upon hearing such news began to sour, eventually to be replaced completely by jealousy. How could they be pregnant by accident when I've been trying for over a year without success?! They aren't even married, or haven't been married as long as I have, or already have one child! Jealousy. I had it mastered. But then it was my turn. I finally had the missing piece to complete my happiness! Those 9 weeks of pregnancy were the best weeks of my life. I knew excitement, joy, and hope, unaware that it would be so brief; I would be robbed of the exhilarating 9 months I had anticipated. I had my first miscarriage and the jealousy returned. But this time it was worse. It was worse because I knew I was being selfish. I knew that the very people I was jealous of were at the happiest points of their lives; I knew this because I had just been there. How can I begrudge another, a friend, someone I care about, the happiness and anticipation I know come along with a positive pregnancy test? Doesn't everybody deserve to be happy? Don't they? Don't I?

Scared

I didn't know I would be scared with the second pregnancy, but I was. It was tainted by my first experience being pregnant. The first time I miscarried I was in a meeting, in a room full of people. It was public, embarrassing, frightening. I was constantly afraid during the second pregnancy that I could miscarry again. Now that the test results confirm my fears, the knowledge does not set me at ease; I am even more afraid. Afraid because I know it is going to happen and I have to wait for it. Because it could be public again, while I'm teaching, spending time with my friends or family, or worse, it could happen when I'm all alone and at my most vulnerable. The waiting is the most frightening part. Not only am I scared for the present, but I'm scared for the future. Now that it has happened twice, what will keep it from happening again?

Healing

I know this will pass. But I need to spend some time feeling the emotions that accompany loss in order to heal and find the strength to move forward. This past weekend, at the Easter Vigil mass, the priest said that when we pray for strength, God doesn't overwhelm us with grace. He gives us just the amount we need to get through it. And I know I will get through it. I have to believe that this is a part of His plan, a plan I am not privy to, but that has my best interests at heart.