I'm sorry I haven't posted in a few days.
To be honest, I just haven't had much to say. Or, at least, everything I have to say is so mixed up & twisted, that it's hard to really write down.
It's been a very long & trying week. On top of the crap you already know about, I lost a friend to breast cancer this week. Her funeral was today. She was 44 and had 3 teenage sons. One of them spoke at the funeral. (Yeah, that was the moment I really lost it.) She was very full of life. Even at the funeral, surrounded by her family & friends, I expected to hear her cackle float up above the noise of the crowd. Her minister talked about how he never heard her complain. And you know, it's true. She didn't. Chemo, mastectomy, hysterectomy, bald head, puking, infection in the implants, more chemo, another bald head, and ultimately- death. The harshest thing I ever heard her say?
"I always wanted a boob job. Careful what you wish for."
I admire it. And I see a lesson in it. She accepted what she was handed. That doesn't mean she didn't fight with all her might, but she dealt with the licks as they came. And that's what I'm trying to do. Take my licks as they come. Do the best I can to get through this life. If I'm lucky, I'll die in the arms of my husband as she did a few days ago. (They weren't actually married, but had been together many, many years. He's as much a husband to her and any married couple I know.)
I'm not perfect. I'm still obsessing over symptoms. I've had some moments of incredible breast pain. Even leaked a drop of colustrum yesterday. Well, "leaked" isn't really the right word. My nipples were looking weird, so I was poking around at them in fascination. (Look, do you want me to start peeing on sticks again?)Gave 'em a squeeze and there it was. That was weird in a totally cool "holy shit, I'm pregnant" kind of way.
I even had what I believe to be a real dose of morning sickness today. I'd gone shopping with the husband for some new work clothes (Did I tell you all he got a job? He did! A real job! Starts in the morning.) and I think I got a little too warm. He started talking and the more he talked, the worse I felt. I was nicely asking him to be quiet but he wasn't taking me seriously. Finally I said "Look, I know this sounds weird, but I really need you to be quiet. I'm not feeling very well and the more you talk the more I want to vomit." About that time we got out of the car at our next stop and I had a few dry heaves. The nausea lasted off and on for the rest of the day. I've never been happier to be sick in my life. (David took it well, though he did look a little freaked out. Every time I display any symptom, though, he says "But that's a good sign, right?" so I think he can handle being told to shut up, since he's enjoying my misery so much.)
But overall, I'm really trying to surrender it to God. We tried a new church this morning (We're church shopping.) and I told myself that if they sang my favorite hymn, I'd know it was the church for me. Sure enough, there it was. "I surrender all."
At the height of the angst of infertility, several months ago, I happened to see an "Oprah: After The Show" with Faith Hill. She was taking requests and Oprah requested it. I bawled & bawled & bawled. Unfortunately I haven't been able to find a recording of it anywhere. (The Faith Hill version. There are some others out there that I just don't like as much.) I left the episode on the TiVo a long time and listened to it a lot. I wish now that I'd saved it permanently but I think that was one of those that I let the TiVo get too full and it got deleted. Anyway, I digress.
I'm trying to surrender it to God. Whatever path He has lined out for me, I'm on it. Worrying will change nothing. And I'll be honest, I'm doing okay.
I feel hopeful. Talk about scary words. I do, though. I feel hopeful. I'm not stout in the belief that the baby is going to live. I'm far too realistic for that. But I have caught myself thinking about names, considering breast-feeding and daycare and all sort of things that people who are expecting a baby would do.
Of course, on the other hand, I went to Hallmark yesterday and walked past the display of baby stuff - picture frames & super-soft stuffed animals, and little stork figurines with pink or blue bundles. And I started to cry. Right there in the store, immediately. I bawled. I wrote to a friend later that it's crazy. I'm pregnant, but not expecting a baby. This shit sucks.
But it passed and yesterday afternoon I was trying to decide if I think it's a girl or a boy. (I had a dream that it was a boy the other night. However, the same dream including me breastfeeding my cat, so take that as you will.)
But.. life goes on. I'm trying not to complain, trying not to fight whatever will happen. Just be open to it. I'll fight like hell in the fight I can. But the rest, I'm just along for the ride. Just as my friend taught me.. all the way to the end.
Rest in peace Deb. I'll miss you.