It's Break Time

So I was gone from Twitter for a few weeks. I didn't really intend to do that, it just worked out that way. And honestly, it was good for me, because as much as I love Twitter, it can be kind of consuming and energy draining. I wasn't being tossed by the waves of ups and downs of two hundred other lives - although I know I missed some big events that I feel sad not being there for - there was enough waves in my life to deal with. I wasn't filling every spare second with catching up - although I'm so totally out of the loop now - and I had time to read several books, and spent my evenings with my husband instead of with him and a long list of people, many of whom I don't even know their first names.
Don't get me wrong - I love Twitter. These people have been there for me when there was no one else. They've understood me in a way that my "in real life" friends and family can't. And they allow a certain anonymity that grants the ability to share some of the dark spots and hidden parts of my spirit that few others get to see. They're a safe place.
So I love Twitter and the freedom I had from Twitter. Somehow I need to find a new balance, to keep the connections without letting it rule my life.
And I do have connections. At least a few. Part of the reason my absence was this long was feeling like no one missed me, and what was the point of coming back, if no one even noticed I was gone? But apparently at least a few did, so - here is why I took a break and what was going on with me while I was gone.

The why -
First, my phone broke over four weeks ago, the screen shattering when it was knocked out of my hand onto a concrete patio stone. We sent it to be fixed, but they keep having to wait for parts, so I've been completely without a phone since then. When we made a getaway to the cottage for a few days, there was basically only Boy's phone, so it just made sense to completely disconnect for a little bit. It was good and I just keep on extending the break, especially since my days seemed to be extra full. There were a few extra things on my schedule and we spent some time preparing for a visit with friends we hadn't seen in six years, and then, enjoying that visit! It was so fantastic to spend time with them again and meet their children that had been born since they moved away.

The what -
Before I left I shared that my older sister found out she was pregnant, which meant both my sisters were, building their families as they wished, and now, doing it at the same time, sharing something I might not be able to do again. I didn't think about the possibility of it being worse, but it was when she miscarried the next week. My heart was totally crushed to hear her pain, to know what she was going through, and especially to be so far away and not able to come and take care of her. And it was weird to feel this tiny bit of relief that my best friend and supporter now knew what I'd been through, even though I would have done anything in my power to keep her from experiencing that.

Next - I had realized that my timing had been off in this past cycle and there was a chance I could have gotten pregnant. I'd love to be excited about that possibility, but really I was just terrified. I'm so not ready to handle another miscarriage yet. And as an aside, I was worried about how to tell my sister after her just going through a loss. It's hard enough months later - the week after? OW.
So, I was in that place where everything is interpreted as a pregnancy symptom, and I was having trouble not freaking out on a daily basis as I got closer and closer to the time when I would find out. After having a big break down the day before my period was due, Boy decided we were going to test. I was so grateful to him. I couldn't bring myself to "give in," feeling like I was wasting a test, wasting money, being weak not able to wait until the next day when my body should tell me for sure. I needed that permission he gave to just do it and find out what the answer was.
When the test was absolutely, completely, unmistakably negative, I broke into tears. Sadness? Nope. Just relief. So much relief. I HATE that. Hate it. I hate that I'm relieved not to be pregnant. Not even a slight hint of sadness over it. I want to have a baby, to carry to term, to give birth. So so much. But far more times than not, pregnancy is only the beginning of a miscarriage for me. Being pregnant just means pain, heartache, grief. So, relief. I can't handle it again right now.

A few days later, my younger sister had her ultrasound and found out that she was having a girl. Her first daughter, the second granddaughter. So now both of my sisters have their boys and a baby girl. It made my heart hurt. I wouldn't trade my son for a whole handful of daughters, and I'm not sure if I can explain, but I've been waiting for my daughter since my first pregnancy. We've had two girls name picked out almost since we got married nine years ago. I'm not going to be able to use them both, and maybe I won't ever use either of them. I may never have a baby girl that I get to keep and hold. But there is nothing to do but say congratulations and try to be happy for her. So I did.
She made her Facebook pregnancy announcement that night with an album of bump and ultrasound pictures, each one an ache in my heart. One ultrasound picture was the announcement of the baby's name as well. Middle name is our older sister's first name. Dang, it still hurts. I mean, my older sister is fantastic, she deserves the honor, but it's just this permanent reminder that my younger sister picks her over me. That our relationship isn't awesome and she will probably never think me worthy of such honor. Even knowing she wouldn't likely ever use my name for a child, this conversation was probably the worst part of it all - Me: Congrats, again. It's a pretty name. [what else am I supposed to say, right?] Her: Thanks. I couldn't decide and I was worried I may never have another girl HA, [boys run in her husband's family] so we just used all of our favorites!
Ow ow ow ow. To give her credit, I don't think that she has any idea how hurtful and insulting that was. None of this is intentionally trying to hurt me. She's just kind of self-absorbed sometimes. Which isn't really that much better, but she's not mean, just thoughtless occasionally.

So. Normally, I'd have Twitter to share all of that with, but I just couldn't bring myself to piecemeal it the way I would need to to share it there, or to go over it multiple times, or even just the energy to write it out at that time. But life has been emotionally challenging, and there is more that I'm working through now which I'm not quite ready to put out there yet. Some time later this week maybe.

I'm so ready for a break. From emotional upheaval this time, instead of from Twitter.

The Weight of the Wait

I'm not sure I've ever had so many migraines in such a short period before. Every day I feel like I'm a little heavier, a little more weighed down. The stress is pushing me into the ground.

Five weeks ago we drove six hours to do a three day interview with a church, an associate pastor position for Boy. It went fantastic. The church felt comfortable and familiar, the house provided with the position felt good and fitting, the people felt like friends and family. Boy received compliments on his preaching and positive reviews on leading the service. Their priorities fit with ours. Their style of service keeps the children in until it's time for the sermon - a rare find and very important to us. Their theology meshes with ours and has actually helped Boy define some things. He says he didn't know before that he was (insert this church's denomination). Except for the fact that it's at least six hours away from all our immediate family, it looks like the potentially perfect church for us.
The high from that weekend only lasted so long though, because then we had to wait. And wait. And wait. And we are still waiting to hear. They had another candidate they wanted to interview and he and his family came a month after us. Now they have to decide who they think will be the best person for the job and for their church, and we get to wait. Is there anything so wearing as waiting? I'm not sure getting a negative answer is worse than waiting and dreading a negative answer. Especially when it feels like your last chance. Boy has been searching for a job for almost a year and our time is running out.
To add to the stress, the pastor sent an email last week asking about our cats and how "non-negotiable" they were. I think they're nervous about all our babies in the house after the previous residents left the (relatively small) carpeted area smelling like cat pee. I get that, but our house rarely smells like pee, and when it does, I hunt it down until it's GONE. There are few things more humiliating for me than to have people walk into my house and have it smell. I could just die. So anyways, we said we would repair any damages done out of pocket, give them a deposit if they wanted it, and would even replace the smelly carpet on our dime. I'm desperately hoping that it's enough, because if they come back and say they want us, but the cats can't come, I will break. I just don't think I can do it.
My sister says, "You aren't willing to give them up to be where God wants you to be?" First, thanks for the support. Second, I don't think I am. It's just too hard. These cats are part of my family and in a strange way, they are all tied up in my losses and my faith. I don't know how to let go of them. Maybe it makes me a bad Christian. Maybe it makes God disappointed in me (as my childhood picture of God would be). Maybe it will cost us a really great job with a really decent house in a time where we really can't afford it. I don't know. The one truth I know, is that God loves me. He loves me even if I can't make big sacrifices "for him." If I hold my cats tight, and we manage to thwart something big and miraculous and fantastic that God wants to do - he still loves me. I'm hoping that love means that whatever plans he has for us, whatever good he's working for us, that that includes this part of our family, these animals that are so close to my heart and so much a part of my life. I don't know really. I'm still just figuring out who God is and what he wants. The only thing I've got - he loves me.
So, I'm pretty familiar with the "be anxious about nothing" verse, cause you know, I'm working on it, but seriously, never been my strong point. I come from a long line of worriers. I really don't want to be like one older lady I know, who literally worries herself sick, like, put herself in the hospital sick. I'm hoping by that age that I've somehow figured out how to just trust God and let things rest in his hands, but I'm not sure I'm making much progress yet. It always the wait that kills me. I don't do well in waits. Once I know what is happening, I can usually handle it. I have seen God's hand in our lives and know that we have never been without what we need. We've always had a place to live and food on the table. Should this job not work out, I know I can trust in that. But, I'm still scared and stressed.
One of the church leaders called Boy last night to ask a few questions, so we know he's still in the running, and he seemed to think that we would know by the end of the week. Our wait may finally be coming to a close. Hoping and praying that this will be the place for us. A place to call home, a church family that feels like family, and a position where Boy can shine in the way I know he was meant to.
In the meantime, here's hoping the migraines will leave me alone.

Finishing New York

(This is a post I began while we were still in New York. I'm going to try to complete the thoughts.)
It's been a long day again today. We didn't sleep very well last night. The single king sized bed (eta - when rearranging the bed for our second night, we realized that this "king" bed was about a foot shorter than our "king" bed at home. No wonder it felt so small) didn't really fit the three of us and Boy ended up spending a large part of the night on the floor. We were also so overtired by the time that we made it there that we had trouble falling asleep. So we weren't really ready to get up when Dune started bouncing on us at seven. So began our first full day with Boy's parents.

It was a very bouncy bed!

A little background - I love Boy's parents. I know they love us. But, it's like they are from a different culture. We simply don't speak the same language and even simple gestures have entirely meanings to each of us. They really don't get why we choose to go barefoot, that Dune and I can't eat milk products, why we prefer to avoid chemicals, the way we parent, and more personally - our personal expressions (eg. tattoos, no suits, despite the the fact that Boy is a pastor), and my very particular taste in food.
I fall into the picky eater category, and I know some people (like the IL's) see me as just being difficult, but it's really not that. It's truly difficult for me to eat other foods. I try occasionally. As I've gotten older, I've pushed myself to try things that weren't on my "normally eat" list and some things that were way beyond that (food is not supposed to be foamy and green. I don't care.) But, when it comes down to it, there just isn't a huge list of foods I enjoy eating, and that list got significantly smaller when I took dairy out of my diet. I know that this makes life difficult for others (try having me over for supper), and I always feel horrible about that, but there are times when I would truly prefer to go hungry than eat certain things. Not too long ago I read an article about highly sensitive kids that made me realize my food preferences were part of my sensitive nature, that it was actually "normal" for me. It doesn't really make life any easier, especially when dealing with people who see it as more of a character flaw, but it was like this little feeling of freedom to learn that.
So, mealtimes were stressful, not at all helped by the fact that Bug has a habit of taking off his shoes the moment he enters a building. (oh no, barefeet! how horrible! whatever shall we do?!) Activities had stressful moments since we all had different ideas on how and when to do things. And, 75% of all interactions involving Bug were stressful. Please don't ask my son what he wants to do if we aren't actually going to do it. If you want him to answer a question, give him a moment to think and respond, don't just keep rephrasing the question every two seconds. Don't tell him something might happen that you know won't. Don't say, "maybe there'll be pony rides" when it's highly unlikely. Don't tell him, "tomorrow we'll do this exciting thing," he doesn't understand tomorrow yet.  And, above all, DON'T step over my parenting/discipline and do things your way. If I am right here handling the situation, you don't get to step in. Bleh. I'm getting tense just thinking about it, and it was weeks ago.
I hate conflict, so we never actually addressed most of these issues (Boy touched on the outright lying to Bug), we just tried to parent around them. I don't really know what was the best way to handle it, although if there had been more than two times they overrode my parenting, we would have had that discussion, because even once is really not okay.  We will have to see what happens when we get together in the summer...
Bug enjoyed most of the trip - seeing the dinosaurs, playing at the Children's Museum, watching the polar bears at the zoo, enjoying his first hockey game on tv (how do I have a sports child?), but at the same time he wasn't so sure about this staying in a hotel room business and asked at least once a day to go home.
Of course, the whole point of this trip was a stressful one. I don't think I ever mentioned, but we went to NY to meet the IL's because my father in law was there to do some testing at Slone-Kettering's cancer center. He has melanoma that has spread to his lymph nodes and liver. His current treatment is chemo, but it generally has very little effect on this type of cancer. If he qualifies (and he does, we just found out today!), he will be able to receive a new drug that is just finishing it's trial phase. It's likely not a cure, but would make life better and longer for him. So having this test and result hanging over everyone added to the stress of the occasion. (one of the reasons we didn't make a bigger deal out of their frustrating interactions with Bug)
Good points - I got to see New York! Far from all of it of course, but I saw the Empire State Building out my window, Central Park and the zoo, the American Museum of Natural History,

impressive stores like Tiffany's and Saks, famous sites such as Rockefeller Plaza and The Plaza Hotel, and well known streets like Broadway and Madison Avenue.

One of these days I'm going to actually make an online album of all the pictures!
So the great things helped balance out the stress, but this experience took a lot out of us. It took us almost a week to prepare for the five day trip, and about a week and a half to de-stress and re-energize. I'm glad I had a chance to see this famous city, but we were all so glad to be on the train home.

New York, New York – Here We Are

So as we neared the end of our many long hours on a train, Bug began to reach the end of his amazing patience. He was becoming just too antsy to stay in his seat. Really, he did remarkably well. He'd been on the train for eight hours and now he just wanted to move around, at least be in a new spot. It was a bit difficult that the new spot he chose was the middle of the aisle, but we just did our best to make sure he moved before someone was trying to get by.

When we finally got off the train, we were so eager to get outside. Bug wanted to ride in the stroller (being ready to fall asleep) and no one was thrilled to find we had three flights up to ground level. Sunshine at last! After some finagling with luggage and which direction to go, we began our walk to the hotel.
Made it to the hotel, and first disappointment - our room is on the third floor. Second - there is no such thing as away from the elevator. Third - this room is half the size of our bedroom, and the tub is half the size of our tub. No robes, no room service, no chair to sit in. Poo. I won't (well, maybe) complain too much since we aren't paying for the room and I know how much it costs. :o But really, it was difficult to realize that a large portion of our time will be contained by this room. Bug goes to bed about 6-6:30 each night, meaning we are here with him after that. It will be interesting to see how this plays out. I may be blogging a lot more this week. :P
Bug was asleep before we'd passed a few minutes walking, and stayed out like a light until we tried to change him at the hotel. Some nursing and he was out again.

 He's already woken once since then, so I'm wondering if the poor eating habits, and over-tiredness will make this a frequent wake night. I guess we shall see. I'm also worried about the bed. It's king size, but at home we have a king and a crib pushed next to it, so when Bug wants his own space, it's not an issue. I'm a very afraid that he will sleepily scootch over to "his bed" only to find himself fallen on the floor. Not cool. I really don't know what to do about it. Normally, I'd push the bed over to the wall, but the arrangement of this room doesn't allow for that. I have had one incident where he has fallen while we were sleeping in a strange bed, and it has made nervous about it happening again. Plus, there are these lovely built in nightstands that he will likely hit his head on on the way down. Those I will try to pad with pillows, but so far it's not working very well.

Alright, I'm so tired now, I've got to go to bed. We shall see how this goes. I can hear the never ending traffic and many conversations floating up to our window, and while I could happily people watch for ages, I don't really want them in my sleep.
Overall, It has  been interesting to mesh the really cool, "I'm in New York!," and look at the architecture on these buildings, and the street vendors, and the shops!, with the  fighting against the flow of people, dealing with so much second hand smoke, and the foreignness of the city.  So it's super cool, but I kind of hate it at the same time.