This blog is small glimpses into my heart and soul - attempts to be transparent with friends, and sometimes, to myself. This is my safe place, where I can come and be purely Ness.

Family: If you found your way here, please do me a favor and don't poke through my closets, ok?

Friday, April 30, 2010

Fear and Hope

Almost nine weeks now. Thinking about that, I can't help but smile, but it's a rough road. You might nod sympathetically and comment, "Yes, I see how it would be a bit scary to be pregnant again after a miscarriage," but you don't get it. Really, you haven't a clue. Unless you've walked this path, you probably haven't begun to comprehend what it's like to be here. So let me give you a tiny glimpse - You wake up. Begin to be aware of your world again. Your first thought, accompanied by a stab of fear, "Do I still feel sick this morning...? Oh, yes, there it is." Breathe.
Get out of bed. There's a stab of pain in your side. Fear. "What is that? Is it a good pain? Bad pain? Ok, ok, I'm pretty sure that's ligament pain. That's ok. That's supposed to happen." Breathe.
You head to the bathroom. "Ok, ok, it's going to be ok." Wipe. Check. "No spotting. No spotting. Thank you, Jesus." Breathe.
Eat. The nausea abates while you reassure yourself that it will come back in a little bit.
Intersperse this all with minor heart attacks anytime anything changes, and I mean anything- the nausea, the need to pee, the desire to sleep, the pain in your back/side/arm, "wait, wait, the arm pain's not connected. That one's ok. Breathe," your appetite, mood, bowel movements, no new pimple today, your nursing toddler's sleep habits, mood, desire to nurse... anything.
Repeat entire cycle approximately 10-12 times, until you finally fall asleep at night praying that tomorrow will be as good as today.
You can't possibly know what it's like to be overcome with dread every time you have to pee (which is once an hour), unless you've been there. To be constantly weighing the way you feel, judging your aches and pains. To be truly thankful for nausea.  To feel yourself give up and try to accept that you're going to lose this one too - for whatever random reason your mind has currently settled on. To breathe fear in and out.
And, you are so alone. Because, nobody understands this. My family knows I'm afraid. They know it's hard for me, but they don't get this. This day to day, moment to moment torture. So, they don't call but once in a while and they probably don't think about it all that often. But, I don't blame them. Their babies were all born, crying, into their arms, and I thank God, that they have never had to walk this path.
The only one who can begin to understand is my Boy, because he's been there, holding my hand and going through it all with me. Sharing the losses and the fear.  I'm so grateful for his voice and his arms.
As time goes on, the frequency and intensity of the cycle abates, but never ceases. Each milestone you pass helps your spirit calm a tiny bit more. As the nausea grows stronger and my pants grow smaller, I grow slightly more confident that Tiny is going to make it.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Writing for the Sake of Writing

So I promised myself I would write today. It's been two weeks which is a week longer than my goal for writing, but I just feel so tired tonight. Not just tired, a bit weary, you know what I mean? When it goes beyond your body to your soul. But, I will try to put something down, just to make sure I persevere on this blog. It's important to me that I don't give up on this. It's good to have some kind of creative outlet in your life, and while I used to have many - sketching, dancing, singing, occasional writing, it slowly dropped to um... nothing. All these things that I enjoyed so much, eventually became replaced with the more practical - a job, keeping a house, raising a Bug, and the more sedentary - spending almost all of my free time in front of the tv with my Boy. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't give up the life I have for anything, and I love my chillax time with hubby, but sometimes I wonder where I lost my drive and passion for the creative things in my life. I am bound and determined not to give up on them entirely. I'm grateful for my son who daily demands that I put on a "dince" (dance, meaning song). I used to listen to music constantly. I was always singing, or dancing, along to something, but I'd gotten to the point where I basically never put on music. I don't know why, but I just didn't. Thankfully, Bug isn't too discriminate about needing his music to be children's, so he bops along to some of my old favorites. It's nice to hear them again.
I used to draw, not frequently, but every once in a while when something would really catch my attention, I'd sketch it out. I really enjoyed it. I liked that it was something I was half decent at. I haven't done it in ages, but every now and then I look at my son and think how beautiful he is, and I itch to put it on paper. I'm grateful I have many photos of him, because one of these days, I'm going to sit down and capture him in my own hand. Another promise I've made to myself.
I think most teens go through a poetry or song writing stage. Sometimes it's really the only decent way to express the feelings you go through. It certainly helped me through a lot of times when I felt overwhelmed with emotions, as a teenager and beyond. I'm not sure I ever wrote anything that you could make money off of, but I always thought my works were pretty decent. This is one area that I'm not sure if I will ever really get back to. Occasionally, I go through some phrases in my mind and try to put something together, but it doesn't seem to work out the way it used to. Perhaps I'm not angst-y enough anymore.
That's where the blog comes in. There are times when I just have emotions I need to get out. A need to express in more than just a conversation. A challenge to make my thoughts more linear and perhaps to even provoke emotion in someone else. So, I will not, will not give up writing. I need to keep posting, even if my posts are somewhat inane and pointless. I need to keep posting just so this door is always open. I need to keep posting to prevent another burnt out outlet.
So, I post! Yay me!

You'd have no idea that I meant to write about something entirely different tonight, would you? Just got carried away on a train of thought...