Monday, November 22nd, 2004
November 22, 2000 - Had surgery to remove a damn lump from my neck - spent Thanksgiving Day in bed - was told next day that I have cancer. Without warning. Age 24. So much for One Year (civil) Marriage Anniversary celebration.
November 22, 2002 - Diagnosis of ulcerative colitis. Been pooping blood.. Doomed for taking medication for the rest of my life as there is no fix/cure.
November 22, 2004 - Today. Got a call from Mom that Grandpa had passed away in the wee hours this morning.
I can’t fucking wait to see what’s in store for Year2006.
I HATE Thanksgiving. I HATE November.
Thursday, November 18th, 2004
Yes, I’m very happy with my healthy, cheerful, talkative, energetic (I could go on really) 15.5 month old son. Believe me, I’m thankful to have him. He’s the light of our lives. Lately he’s been dancing up a storm. When we put on the music, he’d rock back and forth whether he’s sitting down or standing up. It’s the cutest sight ever - I’m just a little partial in the slightest. I’m sure you’d agree if you ever saw Seb dance!
That does not justify people telling me how I should feel. Oh you should be happy that you at least have Seb. Hey news flash for you, it’s not a 100% type of equation, where if I loved Seb more, I would feel less pain/sorrow losing our 2nd baby. That’s what these comments feel like to me. Just take a little from here and put it there to make it whole. Yea. Would anyone dare to say to a person with one blinded eye “..you should be happy you still have the other eye..” Or to a parapelegic “..but you still have the other 2 appendages that are useful..” (I could go on really). No one has the right to tell another person how to feel.
People assume they know how I feel because they have been through the exact situation. One needs to keep in mind that people react differently to the same identical situation. Saying “I know how you feel” is quite compassionate and sympathetic, but, do you actually know how that person truly feels??? I think not. You’d have a pretty good idea and all, but again, there are differences because you’re inherently two very different people. Whilst I appreciate the sentiments, but I would prefer it said in another tone or phrased differently. But really, a hug, a shoulder to cry/lean on, and an open ear to listen would be very good (and please close that yap hole unless it’s something unhurtful).
Friday, November 12th, 2004
It’s official. I have the first yeast infection of my life.
My hootie’s been itching, burning, and painful to the touch the last couple of days. Last night when I showered, it hurt really bad when I soaped myself. I looked and omg, I’ve never seen it like that before!
It’s very very unlikely that I got it from my husband. After researching online, it seems most probable that my immune defense is lowered due to the last month’s worth of crap and the little yeastie found the loophole and went straight for it. Bastards.
I got a diflucan prescription from my OB. It’s only one pill. Wonder if that’s going to do the job. I surprised myself and informed him that I’m ready to try again. I didn’t think I was ready even up until yesterday, or even the hour before I saw the OB. I’m going to have to think about what I said some more. I mean, I just blurted it out to him. I wasn’t even thinking it. Are those moments the ones that show what our inner self is really thinking/wanting?
He said I may not see relief until 24 to 36 hours after I take the diflucan, and meanwhile I should get some Monastat(sp?) if I feel necessary. I’ve toughed it out for the last couple of days, what’s another 24-36 hrs? We’ll see. I really hate buying drugs like that. I fear the cashier will come on the store intercom and announce to the whole world “…price check on Monastat in isle 5…” At least if it’s a prescription, you can get drive through in the dark and the person doesn’t really see who you are, even though they have all of your information right in front of them. What sort of people do the pharmicists think of you when they fill your medications anyway. Well, I don’t care. I want my hootie to feel better again.
Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004
I feel sick.
Yesterday was the one month anniversary of my miscarriage. It was hard. Beyond description. But it’s better than say, a month ago. Everyone seems to have forgotten about it except me. There are happier things to deal with in life, people tend to gravitate toward happier things, and move away from the shitty stuff. Perhaps this is why people subconciously not want to hear the real answer to “how are you”.
On a completely different note, I must amend to the cynical post that, the guy did finally replied. Are you ready for this? Yea? His reply, “blah blah blah may god continue (yea, I want to emphasize continue here. Excuse me, continue???) to comfort you and your family blah blah blah…”
I feel sick.
I’m pretty sure he remembers that I’m an atheist. We had a huge debate about religion once. So what the fuck. Moreover, even if I was religious, I’d be so pissed off at god right now that, if she/he/it were visible and tangible, I’d lunge myself and start the worst fight in history. I might be able to beat the snot out of god, I might not, but it’s damn worth a try.
I will have to dedicate a separate post to god, on a different day.
Anyway, yesterday was also Election Day. It was horseshit. The outcome is horseshit. It’s scary to think I’m living among idiots, ignoramuses, bigots, and racists. How does anyone think that America is safer with GWB in power is beyond me. The other George said it best.
I literally feel sick.
Monday, November 1st, 2004
Yesterday I started my period. The first one since the miscarriage. On Holloween. How frightening is that. I expected to have my period, because my husband and I have not had unprotected intercourse since the miscarriage. Actually we had sex only once. That’s how sad I am–for as much as I love this man of mine, I have not been able to lift my head above the tears and snots to enjoy the company of oneness with him. So why should I be surprised to see my period arrive. It was bound to come sooner or later.
Pregnant people don’t get periods. The period reminds me of the fact that I’m no longer pregnant, that there is no baby in utero, that s/he is gone.
Some would say this is a fresh start. Let’s get on with the show! It means you’re ovulating and cycling fine and that your body is working! It’s time to try (to conceive) again! Woohoo! All that excitement–I can’t understand…
Whilst this is how some people view it, I have not reached that point yet. Last cycle when I had the fertile mucous stuff midway through, I had a very difficult time dealing with it emotionally. On one hand, I want to have another child. On the other hand, I’m still grieving the loss of the previous baby.
I will forever grieve for the loss of our 2nd baby. But how does one just know when to move on?
Some have told me, getting pregnant again is what got them through the pain of the previous loss(es). I venture to say that might be true for me, too. However, I’m having a hard time convincing myself to take the “leap of faith” again just yet. What if this happens again? I don’t dare to think of the answer.
