WARNING: sobbings of an emotional woman to follow!

Let me preface this with an apology if you haven't seen the episode yet... this is a big spoiler here! Tuesday night I finally watched last week's season opener of "ER"... and I cried like I knew I would! I'm sure the episode led to the dream I woke with the next morning, and it left me quite sad. I dreamt that I was pregnant. (Come to think of it, maybe the baby boom at Paradox was a factor, too?) The dream just seemed so real! I was happy, rubbing my large tummy, talking to the baby inside, and smiling big. Then I woke up. I woke up realizing this was from seeing "ER" where Abby delivered her baby prematurely, like I did with Kirsten. The baby was rushed off and her health (Abby's) prevented her from seeing the baby for a while, of which the same happened to me. At least Luka was able to show her a little video feed (or clip, I wasn't sure)... I had 2 polaroid shots from a NICU nurse to cherish until I could see my girl (more than 30 hours after her birth).

Part of me so longs for that dream... and that full pregnant belly, of which I didn't have. I wish I could have the privilege of carrying a baby again. I wish that I could give Kirsten a baby brother or sister that she can grow with and love on. I'm the youngest of 7 kids... I have no idea how it feels to be an only child. But to entertain the thought of actually conceiving... I can't do it. I've passed the point of skipping periods and with nervous excitement taking a hpt (home preg.test), only to have my heart ripped out over and over when the results are negative. I've done it too many times... there's really no point to do that to myself again. I've accepted the fact that my plumbing is all screwed up. I've been taking steps to help it, but... I know. I've been thru enough, educated myself enough about my infertility... I know. So then why is this bothering me so much? I don't want to go back to the days where it's hard for me when a friend (or acquaintance even) announces that they're pregnant. Those days were so tough... I wanted to be excited for them, share in the happiness of the awesome blessing, but it was so hard and hurt so badly inside.

I guess all I can do is pray harder about this. Pray that God will fill that sadness with the joy that only He can give, and that Kirsten keeps my "kid spot" filled to the brim, too! Pray that my body might be healed, or that it can at least improve enough for "normal" functions (yes, I actually would like to have periods in a normal fashion! I'm nuts!). Pray that when thoughts enter my mind that I know can tear me down, I won't entertain them. And pray that others (like maybe you?!?) will pray along with me.

Oh, and that tonight's dream will contain the wonderful things that my real life is full of!!! :)

Under Construction!

I've been playing around with the template here... trying to get it to be like I see it in my head, but not figuring out how to attain that exactly! So, you'll be seeing a lot of different looks until I have an entire day to sit and not do anything but figure this out! I know... that means never! LOL Piece by piece, minute by minute, little by little... I will prevail!!!

Discrimination (and a strange sensation)

That's what it is. Discrimination. Against age, that is. Why is it that kids are the lucky ones? They get flavors added to their medicines to at least for a moment possibly trick their minds as to what is about to pass thru their lips. Adults? Grown-ups? What do we get? The real stuff. No additives, no preservatives, no artificial flavors. Well, we know for darned sure that the real working ingredients of NyQuil cannot be as toxic as the incandescent color of the substance indicates. So artificial colors are added. Why not flavors? I spent minutes (which seemed like hours, considering my floating head and plugged up ear and majorly congested lungs) (which reminds me, how exactly did I make it from work to the drug store... and then home? how did I make it thru work in the first place? that's where I was today, wasn't I?) reading every bottle of Robitussin looking for some type of flavor. Nothing. Nothing to give me any glimpse of hope that the medication I needed wouldn't hurt as bad going down as the garbage it was about to tackle down there tortured me from within. I stood there in Walgreen's, staring at the colorful packaging of the children's meds, and I felt completely discriminated against. That, and felt like my head was about to detach from my body, floating into the fluorescent lighting above me. I was mad. Yes, and probably a little of that type of mad, too. I sent a little email comment to Wyeth Consumer Healthcare when I got home tonight. Shame on them. I would be very interested to see if they send me a response.

My initial writing was going to be about the word "phlegm" and how interesting I find it (the word, not the glob I think I keep coughing up and yet it somehow keeps returning to haunt me all day), but my attention drifted. Now it's shifted again and is focused on the strangely painful sensation coming from my left ear. I think the sound subtly disappeared about 5 hours ago, but now there's something strange happening. Hmmm. Maybe I should call good 'ol Dr. Sams' office in the morning. That is, if my ear hasn't floated out the window and into Neverland with the rest of my head by then...

Where I Was

Many of us had pondering moments today, on the 5th anniversary of 9/11/01. Questions went around as we wondered who was doing what and what the reaction was when we found out. Here's my snapshot: Matt & I were downtown Detroit at Children's Hospital. It was Kirsten's first surgery ever, and she was only 13 1/2 months old. We were in the back where she was being prepped to go into the operating room when the first Tower was hit. We had no clue of anything going on outside of the 4 of us... Kirsten, Matt, me, and God. That was our circle of concern at that moment. The fear of our little one being put under anesthesia. What if she had a reaction? What if she had problems breathing? Then what if she started bleeding too much from the procedure? What if she woke up frightened? What if...? Too many questions. We just had to relax in the knowledge that God had it under control. It wasn't until they took her in & we went into the family waiting area that we saw the television and other waiting families filled us in on what happened in NY. We saw the rest on TV while waiting for Kirsten. I was numb enough going thru the surreal-ness of my daughter's surgery that the horrific news across the airwaves seemed to add to the dream-like state of the day. I think they all set in that evening, when we were finally HOME.

I found this online tonight & it seemed to fit...

"This image of a mother and her infant son on a Brooklyn rooftop frames the disastrous and day-to-day, a feeling familiar to all those who lived through the events of 9/11. Photograph: © Alex Webb/Magnum Photos"