Lucky Star

So, yea, yesterday...wasn't a great day. I was feeling pretty down, and it was that kind of steely grey, occasionally rainy day that tends to push me right over the edge if I'm on it.

But then, last night, B had a bad dream and called me into his room. I lay down with him, and he put his hand on my cheek and said, "I love you always, Mommy." And some little piece of me fell back into place.

This morning, we woke up to a sunny morning. We were both overtired, but we decided to head over to visit E at work for a walk and some lunch. We enjoyed a sunny, breezy stroll around E's work campus and then headed to a nearby restaurant for a little family lunch. It's continually amazing to me how a little time in the sunshine with my two boys can turn my world around, even if just temporarily.

How do I know that E is absolutely, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the right person for me? His presence can bring me a sense of calm in a way no one else's can. Just being around him can make me feel better. Without actually touching me, it's like he is hugging me and telling me it'll all be ok.

So, yesterday was a tough day. Today is better.

In Between

The hardest part of going through something difficult is the in between. The time in between the first rush of grief and the recovery. The gap in between what you should feel and what you do feel. The to do's in between what you get done and what you feel like you should be getting done.

I'm generally a pretty upbeat person. I'm not sure whether that always comes across in the blog, because writing is how I process, so sometimes what I'm processing is the not so great stuff, but really, I'm a very grateful person, and I pride myself on offering positivity to those around me. But I do also occasionally struggle with depression. I guess that sounds like a contradiction, but I think the reason I'm so in tune to my times of depression is that it's such an uncomfortable fit, if that makes sense. I also have very little patience for myself, and my own depressive feelings. So, being in the in between right now is killin' me. I know that I went through something that sucks. I know it's okay to feel sad about that. I want to feel better, overall. I want to get back to my life. But I'm just not there yet, and it's driving me nuts.

Part of what's happening, too, I THINK (I'm...not actually a doctor or a mental health professional) is that...I was kind of feeling a little "off" and "down" before the pregnancy, and then during the pregnancy, some of that kind of eased, because I had something positive to focus on, rather than dealing with what was feeling off. Plus, who knows, maybe the pregnancy leveled whatever hormonal or chemical "stuff" is off inside. It's possible. I guess a lot of things are.

But what I know is that I am mentally ready to start feeling normal again, but I feel like there's something inside holding me back. Like...I WANT to get my ass back to work, but in the moment, it's like MONUMENTALLY difficult to focus and motivate. I WANT to get back into an exercise routine, but again, I CANNOT make myself do it. I know there are people in my life who would tell me just to suck it up and do it. And that's the most maddening part - normally, I would be one of them. I am definitely of the "no one can change your life except you," school. And yet...

I don't know. This is just kind of brain-dump rambling, but like I said, writing is how I process, so I'm kind of hoping if I write this stuff out, at some point, it'll help me come to some clarity. In the meantime, I'm going to write here, and I'm going to write in my gratitude journal and I'm going to fake it till I make it. Because make no mistake. Sad Sack Lindsay will NOT be tolerated, long term. Bitch makes me crazy.

Musings...

Let me start off by saying that I have absolutely no illusions that a miscarriage is the worst thing a person can go through, or even anywhere close to that.

That said, I want to say what it is like, for me, at least.

It's like having your heart broken, is the closest thing I can think of. I don't mean a run of the mill break up. I'm talking about that break up most of us go through once in life, when it's that person you think might be the person you'll end up with, and then they pull the rug out from under you and tell you that, in fact, that won't be happening. And you're just sad. Really sad. And then for a long time after that, every morning when you wake up, you remember all over again that your heart is broken. And there are times throughout the day that something will come to mind that you want to tell that other person - some inside joke or little story about your day you know they'd love, and you have to remind yourself they're gone.

That's what it's like. I wake up in the morning and realize all over again what happened. Every time I go to eat, I think, "Can I eat this?" And then I remember it doesn't matter anymore. And all the plans I'd started to make break my heart all over again.

But at the same time, this really sad, disappointing experience has made me feel so blessed. I'm blessed with a husband who loves me and truly wants to make me happy. I'm blessed with a beautiful son, who, if he ends up being the only child I ever have, makes me the luckiest mommy I could be. I am blessed with a family who is supportive and spent the weekend pampering and spoiling me (and looking the other way at my hormone-addled crying jags). I am blessed with a group of friends who have checked in with me and offered support in myriad ways. There is so much love surrounding me. It gives me hope.

And, as it's Labor Day, summer is unofficially over. And as sad as I am about that, because I LOVE summer, and have LOVED this summer with my little man, I also LOVE autumn, and as I have written about before, autumn is my time of magic. Wonderful things have come into my life in the autumn, and I know that will happen again this year.

Where I've Been

Clearly, I haven't been posting much this summer. This was due in part to my internal debate over when to reveal the big development in my life, which is that I was pregnant. Yes, that's past tense. Was. I think the reason I never posted about being pregnant was that I never fully relaxed into being pregnant, because there was a small part of my subconscious that knew it wasn't going to make it all the way through. There was just a different feeling to this pregnancy from the get-go than with B. With B, I knew the moment I conceived and I could FEEL that he was a tenacious little presence who would not be denied. I was violently ill from week 8 to week 14. This time, it took forever for me to even know I was pregnant, and then once I was, aside from the occasional strong craving for red meat, the symptoms were just not as intense. I had a few waves of nausea here and there, and a few bouts of dizziness and all, but I was 9 1/2 weeks along and hadn't yet experienced that all day naush fest, so I thin I knew something was off.

This entire experience, for those of you not lucky enough to have experienced it, sucks beyond words. It's really pretty painful, first off. And obviously, it's...really sad. For me. For E. For B. For the rest of our family and the friends we'd told. Just a bummer of huge proportions.

I also feel really conflicted because as I've documented here, my pregnancy with B came as such a SHOCK. It took me a really long time to feel excited because I felt so truly shocked and freaked out. This time, I was so excited. My best friend and my cousin are both expecting and are due within a short time of when I was. I was so PSYCHED about that. And I felt so much more ready this time around. I mean...we were actually trying for one thing. And none of this is to say I feel anything but the most pure love for B. He was the best surprise of my life, by a long shot. I cannot imagine an existence in which he didn't come along.

I know that everything happens for a reason. So, I trust that there is a reason this baby wasn't meant to stay with us. I know that. Doesn't mean I won't spend the majority of the next few days crying.

Time Warp

By now, you all know I'm a very nostalgic person. I tend to spend a lot of time in a dream world, reminiscing on the past...fantasizing about the future. And over the past week, it seems like I'm surrounded by nostalgic triggers - music and movies from my past seem to sneak up on me constantly.

Jerry Maguire is on TV right now. I cannot believe this movie is almost 14 years old. Where did those 14 years go? And the song 'Secret Garden' was EVERYWHERE in late '96 and early '97. Remember? There was even that version with the lines from the movie cut in? Ugh, was that the most insipid thing ever or WHAT?! But anyway, as with songs that are so omnipresent during a period of time, that song of course reminds me of that time...my first college apartment, my spring break trip to Cayman...

I was cleaning my kitchen this morning and listening to Dashboard (of course) and for some reason, when 'Hands Down' came on, it literally stole my breath to realize that the summer I first bought the CD A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar was SEVEN YEARS AGO. And again...where did those seven years go? It's been an unbelievably eventful seven years, and I have come to the point in my life that I hoped to when I dreamed of it seven years ago. And yet there is this little piece of me inside that is still that girl from seven years ago, still that girl from 14 years ago, who feels like I've gone through a time warp and ended up here, and I can't believe it. I don't even know if that makes any sense...but that's what it feels like.

3 AM

It's so frustrating when you're profoundly exhausted, yet can't sleep. I've fought insomnia for, at this point, a majority of my life, off and on, as has been well documented on this blog. I hate it. And to some extent, I think it's a self-fulfilling prophecy because when I awaken in the middle of the night, I often have an immediate reaction of, "Oh shit! Fall asleep before you can start thinking!" Which, of course, does nothing to help me fall back asleep.

And so often, the things that wake me up, or keep me up, during the night, are not even the things that are truly important to me, so much as they are the worry du jour. It's like I have a subconscious need for somewhere to focus stray anxiety, so I choose something going on in my life and think it to death, to the detriment of a night's (or a week's) sleep. This drives me insane (figuratively and sometimes it feels like literally). Most often, these are things not entirely within my control. These sort of nebulous stresses - things about which maybe I can do part of the resolving but not all of it, are definitely the bane of my insomniac existence. No matter how well I know I can't control a situation, I will spend those hours between 2 AM and 5 AM frantically trying to figure out a solution.

This history began for me at around 8 years old, when I would wake up in the middle of the night and panic about nuclear armageddon (or, as I likely called it then, "Global Thermonuclear War" - Thanks, War Games). I would spend hours in the middle of the night, just worrying about this happening. And actually, truth be told, that probably wasn't even truly where it began. That's just the first very clear memory of it, for me.

And since childhood, the insomnia has ebbed and flowed, and the anxiety with it. But over the past several years, since the abusive work situation I've mentioned before, it's really been ratcheted up a notch, with the full-scale panic attacks and the utter lack of confidence I have in certain areas. And that, too, is maddening, because I worked for so many years to become a confident person, and I was one, wholly, for a while there.

I realize, of course, that the things I worry so much about are not serious problems, generally. As I said, they are often not even the things that matter most to me. What matters most to me is B, and E, and the rest of my family. But rarely is it any of these things that is keeping me up nights. Why? I can't really say. And why can't I just figure out a way to leave it aside and fall asleep? Well, if I had an answer for that, I'm pretty sure I'd be happily sacked out right now.

I've Been Gone

I haven't had much to say lately, which is odd because I've had a TON on my mind. I guess maybe articulating it just hasn't happened. It's been a weird couple of weeks. Lots of really, super wonderful goings on, and yet kind of a continued malaise. Meh. Happens. Could be hormonal. Could be psychological. Who knows? Anyway...I'm sure my mind will clear at some point soon.