First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who emailed me or texted me about my last blog post. It hasn’t been easy to keep going on with life, I’ve wanted to stop and just hide under my covers for the past week, but thanks to so many loving friends and family members, I’ve been able to continue on. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve cursed the universe a few times and threatened to never have sex again a few times, but for the most part, I’m doing OK.
I feel like my situation was so minute compared to others out there who have so much more going on in their lives and those who have had much later term miscarriages. This is not to undermine the fact that any loss, at any point, is terribly sad. I have just been so humbled by the support and those who have shared their personal stories with me. It’s truly overwhelming. I am so grateful to know so many amazing women who have been through so much, and keep on trucking. It’s inspirational.
I’ve been so inspired, in fact, that I have thrown myself back into school and life in general. That sounds like the opposite of what I would have said a few months ago, considering my entire existence was formed around getting pregnant, but its true. I’m still determined to have a baby, but I’m also determined to finish my education… and go out with a bang. I’ve been kicking ass and taking names lately, writing papers and going to all my classes (*gasp* I KNOW!). It’s crazy.
I’ve always said that after I (finally) finish my BA in English, I would stay at home and be barefoot and pregnant. That option is still on the table, but I’m starting to realistically consider other options for continuing my education and getting a job that pays real money (not just snuggles and dirty diapers). I’ve been looking at Law schools, medical programs and masters programs. I’ve NEVER been serious about going to grad school, because I hate school. I hate going and writing and reading and grades and teachers and students. But for some reason, maybe it’s because I’ve just experienced something thats made me reevaluate my life, I want to at least consider other things.
We’re putting off any fertility treatments for a while. Firstly because we know we can get pregnant on our own (though we don’t have any illusions that the pregnancy wasn’t really a miracle, based on all of the scientific evidence our doctors have gathered) and secondly because I need a break. A break from my vagina.
I’m going to start doulaing at UCSD again, focusing on other people’s vaginas and babies, and finishing school strong, focusing on my brain… the opposite of my reproductive organs.
I’ve decided to just start giving. Giving of myself to others, instead of using up all of myself on myself for a while. I’ve been spending time with my uncle, helping him settle into his new life. The day I had my miscarriage, my aunt died. She was only diagnosed with lung cancer a month ago, and it all happened so fast. My uncle was her life, and he has needed some help figuring out some computer things and just other little things I can help with here and there. It’s been such a positive and healing experience for me and I’m getting to know my uncle. It turns out we’re a lot alike.
If you know me, you know that I am an extremist. Like so many people my age, I bounce from right to left and back again. I envy those people (like my husband) who can stay fairly balanced throughout life. I’m trying to take a page from his book. I don’t want to make any hasty decisions about anything. I’ve seen first hand what hasty decisions can do to people’s lives, and it’s not pretty.
Two days ago, I cried for like… three hours straight. Louie was literally scared for his life. I cried until my nose was non-functional and my eyes were dried up and it was awful. I was crying because I was sure I’d never have a baby, I was going to die from a stress induced heart attack before finals, this one bitch who just had a baby was skinnier than me, my entire facebook was pregnant, Louie laughed at me when I told him I wanted to go to law school maybe and Hillary and all her friends were skinnier than me and graduating before me… AND THEN “aLike” (the app), told me I looked like fucking Vince Vaughn, are you KIDDING ME?
I texted two of my friends for some moral support, which is always the right answer. They talked me down off the cliff and I came back out to the living room and watched Forest Gump with Louie, until I had a power trip and changed the channel- even though I love Forest. Let’s just say this whole thing hasn’t been only hard on me, I’m like a walking terrorist in this house and Louie is the American asshole whose freedom I want to blow up.
In other news, I’m traveling agagain. THIS time its the real deal. The trip I’ve literally been sweating over for months now. We’re getting in a real airplane and going up to San Francisco. I feel like the stars have alligned just right for the most elaborate anxiety attack of my life, what I like to call “Operation I Need Therapy”. I have two 10 page papers to write and four in class essay finals to prepare for this week, then I have to jump on a plane and then the second I get back I have to take said finals. Luckily I have an arsenal of tactics to avoid having to give out free BJ’s to my teachers for good grades and getting on a plane without a wheelchair and a doctors note. Though I may end up looking like Aileen Wuornos by the end of finals and Mrs. Iglesias (but probably more like this crazy old lady) by the end of the trip to SF. Those tactics have been learned through my 10 years (seriously, I could be a fucking doctor by now) of college. I won’t give away all my secrets, but let’s just say the plan includes a trip to my psychiatrist and a note tucked in my pocket willing my collection of purses to Jeanette, where my secret ex-boyfriend picture’s are hidden and a letter detailing what actually happened when I crashed my first car into a fire hydrant.
So, overall, it looks like things are going to be fine.
I’ve been asking Louie to grow a really long beard, like the Duck Dynasty family, and shave his chest so he can look more like Mark Wahlberg at the same time. If that’s not a clear indication that things are looking up- I don’t know what is.
This is not to say I don’t think Lou is perfect in every way, it’s just that I’ve been watching far too much TV and I think he enjoys the challenge. I’m pretty sure this years Halloween costume is going to include (without giving TOO much away) a camouflage wedding dress and tie. Because Halloween, for me, is being able to dress how I wish I could dress every single day, without judgment. See: Previous Halloween’s costume.