Another Round of Waiting (because the first didn't take)

I spent the evening listening to "gangsta rap" per the professor's instructions. Then I wrote a paper about it. To kill off the desire to "shank" the misogynist bastards that sing (rap?) such songs, I think I listened to Taylor Swift's "Our Song," which I dearly love. For this moment.

It would take too much to catch anyone up, so Thanksgiving was nice. My family came out to the in-laws and there were boyfriends and girlfriends and Grandpa and a Brian. I made THREE apple pies, but decided to do a taste test with them. After racing ahead in the polls, the granny smith pie came in second behind the honeycrisp, and in a lowly third, jonathan. I'm assuming the pumpkin pies were good because they were not made by me, with whole cloves. Yeah, I'm that girl. I spent time with the brothers (one who had a fascination with "curling" me?). I saw AM for a desperate moment that was all too brief. We'll have more time after the holidays, okay? I finally met up with miss A and just talked and talked and talked. I don't think we even got through high school, but I do know that I can't WAIT to visit her! And you know, catch a show, because DUDE, you live in Nashville!

As for me and my inside thoughts, I'm still waiting. Six weeks to be exact. To put into motion the plan that may save everything, or perhaps not. God is teaching me some sick twisted version of patience with a large stick. Or he forgot me. Probably that, since I am still angry with him. Does that mean he's punishing me?

The holidays bother me because I keep thinking that everyone is just waiting for the announcement that will let them (us) move on with our lives. I can't give myself that release, much less the all of them and it hurts. I asked one of them about this and she responded with yes, we're all waiting! which wasn't the response that I was looking for. Right now marks a year to the last time I ended up with child. What do I do with that information? A year! Do you understand that? I've been torturing myself for a year. Thank the Lord that forgot me that I'm low on time to obsess. Since I'm running out of time and the energy to sit upright, that is all. Not much, but it's what I have to offer.

Sunday Times

I took a job that keeps me busy and allows no real access to the internet. This change we can mark as healthy. The only time I have for you now is squeezed between working overtime, quality time with the husband, talk time with the too far away friends, doctor's appointments, and class. There isn't a lot left for a colorful blog. Which I'm kind of happy about. My intentions in creating this blog were wonderful: to share the joys of pregnancy and then motherhood with my friends a family. That, unfortunately, did not happen. Which twisted what this blog is about all around into what it feels like from the depth of my being to miscarry and then have trouble getting pregnant again. I gravitated towards blogs similar to mine and sometimes much worse in term of what those bloggers had been through. All the while, I thought that they were helping me. And while they were a bolster, supporting me, reading things like that have not allowed me to move on. I've come to the point where I desperately need to move on. So while this blog will continue to have infrequent posts straight from my thoughts and feelings, I'm hoping that anyone who still reads it will see a change and that I will see a change when I read back. Feeding myself with words and thoughts that play to my obsessiveness in this area is something of the past, I hope. That said, on with the circus.

The new job is going as well as can be expected. I'm slowly figuring out the expectations, duties, and personalities of those around me. A lot of the PT/OTs are close to my age and circumstance: young, newlyish married, either babies or trying. I'm trying to forge some friendships there, but it's already so nice to work with people that seem to care and have the smallest bit in common with me. Typical duties are as always: answering phones, scheduling/cancelling appointments, double checking insurance and information. We also track everything we do in spreadsheets, which feeds my slight obsession with lists, so I am completely on board with that task. The powers that be recently added on to our job description, so at the end of the day we collect all the linens and wipe down the treatment rooms and equipment. This seems a little housekeeping-esque, but it gives me a bit more satisfaction and lets me get away from my desk and stretch around for about 45 minutes. I'm thinking that I will work out a system and enjoy it. Probably because of that, we aren't required to wear really nice clothes or shoes, so I am at home with the dress code. Relaxed business casual is a good description. I haven't messed anything up yet, so onto the next week.

C finally is showing signs of improving from his monster cold. We had virtually no communication from Wednesday of last week to Thursday of this week between schedules, appointments, and his general unconsciousness due to the cold bug. He's been running fevers, coughing, congested head, and sore throats for about a week. Dr couldn't even do much for him on account of whatever it was being a virus. NyQuil and DayQuil to the rescue. This morning he left me bright and early to go with his boss to a town three hours away to look at a Firebird. I think he's feeling better, but I wish he'd get his voice back.

I did have a dr's appointment on Wednesday. I wanted to hear the dr tell me what she thought, my test results, and what we could do. She did, and I've been thinking about it ever since (but conveniently not obsessing about it because I don't have the time to). Finally had a chance to discuss it with C on Friday and he's all for trying it a few times. I'm concerned about the cost, side effects, and where this leaves us if this course of treatment doesn't work. What has me seriously calmed down are two very encouraging, supportive conversations I had with AM and miss A on Wednesday. Both assured me that this wasn't the end of the world and it could only help things and not hurt our chances. Can't really thank them enough, but THANK YOU!

Something I forgot, I'm sure, but no idea what that is, so until next time (or whenever I figure out how to post from my new PDA)!

Random Update

First Day of Work:
Orientation was long. All day long. Tomorrow I begin training at a clinic that I haven't visited before. Should be stressful and fun. I learned all about OSHA, ergonomics, health insurance, and swipe badges. Fun stuff. Need to keep my head above water.

This Weekend:
Mostly dramatic inside my head. Missed communication with C. The TA is back with a vengeance and I'm already sick of them. C wants to know why I'm upset and why am I upset? Mom met me half way Sunday to do some retail therapy. Heavy on the therapy, not so light on the retail either. What was the diagnosis? I'm still so angry that it simmers under the surface of everything I do, think, want. Doesn't really surprise me. Maybe I'm almost ready to get rid of my constant bedfellow. Maybe the anger will eat me alive.

The News:
Dr's office called with test results. I meet with the dr on Wednesday to discuss the medicine that I didn't think I would need. I really thought everything was going to work out and be okay. Now we're in the realm of medical intervention. Officially. I don't know what I think about that.

First Next Last Days

Today is:
a. the last day of this Wonderful Thing
b. the first day I've seen the sun
c. my grandmother's birthday
d. my last day of work at this particular job

I'm not sure when my grandma's birthday is, but I know it's on my calendar. I have eyes and have been alive for almost a quarter of a century, so I have previously seen the sun. And I like blogging way too much to give it up. Which leaves: d. What did I get myself into?

Talked to friendly J last night and am reminded how sweet she is. Hoping that her life goes according to what she wants and works for. I'm tired and my stomach hurts. Should not have left artichoke feta lemon fritters in the Jeep overnight. Bad idea (no, I didn't eat them - I smelled them this morning). Oh, and I received a text picture from miss A and am so very upset. It's obvious: she can knit and I cannot. I take everything back - NONE of you are getting scarves for Christmas, instead, I will be doling out the yarn I cannot knit, the patterns I cannot sew, and the cookbooks I have that suck. Merry Christmas. {I might be in a bit of a mood today.} {Maybe.}

Winter Be Good to Me

For the first ten minutes of my drive into work, I was looking at the frost on the grass, trees and vehicles. I was thinking about how much I love winter. C told me last night that "Our season is upon us." While we were dating I began thinking about the lack of things, ideas, general nonsense that we have in common and he merely said "But dear, we'll always have winter," as if he was starring in some black and white movie. The joke goes that winter as our favorite season is the only thing we have in common. Maybe because of that, we have made it our season: we were married in January, conceived a baby in December, and love Christmas (even though the Fourth of July allows more opportunity for blowing things up). When I see the frost on all available surfaces, it makes me think that perhaps this winter season will be good to us too. I can hope, right?

**The remaining time was spent in a parking lot on interstate. This journey into work is one that I only have to make for two more mornings and for that I'm grateful. My new job is ten miles, three stoplights, and no interstates away.
**In preparation for my class tonight, I finally wrote my instructor an email. He called me this morning and I haven't listened to his voicemail, so I'm a little anxious. I forwarded my email to Mom and she said it was very direct and well-thought out, so I hope he agrees. Me and confrontations don't go well together. Surely I can stand up for myself and what I believe in.
**In my head, as I write this, Sister Hazel's Your Winter is playing. I think it was in the movie 10 Things I Hate About You - one of my secret favorites - shhh!

Pregnant? Nope, Quitting

When I told her that I needed to talk to her, she took me into the back office for "privacy" and we sat down. She asked me if I was pregnant with an almost hopeful look. I said that I wished I was and no, that I took another job. It didn't register at the time, but it does now and I'm left trying to puzzle it out (obviously making a bigger deal of it than I should). Maybe they aren't as unsympathetic at this job as I thought. Maybe I'm not as good at keeping what I really want as quiet as I thought. Maybe, they too, think that nine months creeping towards a year is more than long enough to grieve and maybe I should light a blackcat under the stork's ass if I can find the damn bird. Possibly.

Pictures of Me

This is the awesome '50s hair I rocked for Halloween. Silk scarf courtesy of AM.

The whole shebang. I was a "creative spirit" for Halloween.

My short "boy" hair and mister Boris. He acts like my love is overwhelming.

Rape Scenes

Don't show me a movie with four rape scenes in it. Don't do it. Don't warn me that there is one prison rape in the movie and some sexuality and some violence. Because, by the end of said movie, I was ready to shank you. I'd seen it done enough in the previous two hours that I think I've got it down: quick, urgent, repetitive jabs to the stomach or chest area. Anyone seen American Me? Apparently, it's an accurate portrayal of how gangs work, which is somehow directly relevant to my class on gangs. That didn't say it was about gangs in the little blurb I read in the course catalog to choose the class.

I don't process rape well and if you do, well kudos and congratulations. I can't watch it on tv or in movies. I now know what I've seen before is the watered down, Disney version in CSI, Law & Order SVU and the like. I don't have a photographic memory (or do I?), but the images and sounds haunt me. Sometimes I have nightmares, but mostly I have what I call daymares: I can see repeats of these scenes. Mostly when I'm alone and not thinking about something else. My memory stores these someplace where they are able to pop up and shatter me at random times. As a woman, these constant reminders of rape and sexual violence leave me feeling helpless and violated. I don't willingly watch, read or listen to this stuff. Gauging reactions, it seems that this type of scene does not affect many other people the same way. I'm not being a dramatic reactionary, I'm stating that this stuff disturbs me.

My conclusion? I will be contacting my professor to let him (him, imagine that) know I will not be watching any more movies with rape scenes or sexual violence. If there is another one on the syllabus, I will opt out and offer to read a book and/or write a paper. If this can't be agreed upon, I will withdraw from the class and let them keep my damn money. I will not push those type of images into my head to be repeated in such a way as to cause me harm. No way.

None of this is to say that I don't want to help those who have been victims of rape and sexual assault. I have done nothing but support those causes. But while their stories haunt me, at least I know that they are true and honest recreation of events and not the Hollywood version. Why do you watch rape scenes in movies? Are you completely desensitized or do you think I'm overly sensitive?

I just know that you DON'T make me watch a movie with ANY rape scenes in a class. If I would have been braver, I would have walked out. Was everyone else really that NUMB? Does it say anything that those scenes are the ONLY ones I can recall from a 2+ hour movie? What the hell?