Five pregnancies, two and half years, & two hundred posts.

Tomorrow I’ll be 14 weeks.  14 weeks.  It seems surreal.  It’s hard for me to believe that I’m not still stuck in the first trimester, as I was for two and a half years.  Last week I entered my very first second trimester in five pregnancies.

I’ve had my genetic pre-screening done and everything looked fantastic…the baby is even measuring a few days ahead (which is definitely a first for me).  The tests all came back negative, with the downs chance basically non-existant.  Who would’ve thought we could make a genetic superstar?  I’ve had many chances to take a peak at the little one waving and kicking up a storm – my last one just yesterday – and it never gets old.  I thank this little baby every single night for growing stronger every day, for beating the odds to still be here today.  I put my hand on my belly and even though I can’t feel him or her just yet, I feel life.  I realize that makes me sound crazy, but every time I start to worry, I press my fingers to where he or she is and I feel butterflies.  After all my heartache, it’s the best thing in the world.  Forget genetic superstar…this baby is a superstar plain and simple.

I feel like I’ve let many of you down by not being able to come to this space.  Something happened before this pregnancy – a shift in my thoughts that revealed I was ready to step away from the everyday interactions in this world.  My sanity needed me to step away.  I honestly believe it has helped me navigate this pregnancy as well as I have.

This world has been my safe-haven, my strength, my release, my support….I can never forget that.  For four devastating pregnancies, all of you have been there for me.  Some of you strangers, some of you now friends for life, others family and friends in this with me in the real world as well.  I will never be able to thank you enough.  This space has given me so much over the years and I’m proud of the woman this world has helped me become.  She’s a badass in my eyes — in fact, you’re all badasses to me.  We navigate these murky waters with nothing but fractions of hope and the unwavering support of others in the trenches…with our hearts pulling on us and the rest of the world telling us we’re crazy.  But we come here and we’re not crazy.  We pee on a thousand and one sticks and end up finding someone else who peed on a thousand and two.  Because of this world I found inside this little screen, I dove into a fifth pregnancy with no proof it would be any different than the other four.  I gave myself one more chance at this, and knew that if it didn’t work out, I’d be okay.

I’ve learned that here: I’ll be okay.

I will never turn my back on this world.  It’s who I have become and who I will always be.  But because of  how much I care for the other women here and how much I can feel myself in their shoes, this space and this world is different for me right now.  If I find myself visiting the stories so similar to mine, with pain so incredibly raw and familiar, I can no longer separate this pregnancy from the others.  And it needs to remain different for me in order to make it to the other side. For two and half years, I was not myself.  I was pulled under by grief and anxiety and I’m ready to be lighter and present.  I experienced a hell I never thought I would have to live through…and for now and hopefully forever, I feel like I’m coming out of the cloud.

But my thoughts are still with all of you, rooting for you from the sidelines.  I’ll always be there, even if you can’t see me.  I’m the one screaming the loudest, telling you you can do it even when you think you can’t.  Telling you how I understand how painful it is, but you’ll be able to make it through.  I can promise you that.

There’s still not proof this pregnancy will be different, but in my gut, it feels like it is.  If I look past the fear that creeps in here and there, my heart tells me this one is different.  Even if the worst happens, I have a confidence I never had the previous four times: that I will make it through to the other side somehow.  Because of what you all have given me.

Four losses, one currently thriving pregnancy, two and a half years, & 200 posts.

Insane.

Love,
Courtney

P.S.  Even though I may not come to this space very often, or sadly visit yours even less…please email me at any time, I’m still here.  bodegablissblog {at} gmail {dot} com

Where I’ve been.

Alright everyone, this is going to be a long one so you might want to get comfortable.  Maybe even grab yourself some water.  I’ll wait.

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Are you back?

Okay, let’s get on with it, shall we?  It may not be my best piece of writing, but there’s a lot to cover, so here we go…

A little over two months ago, my boss handed me some sample job descriptions for a position he wanted to hire for and asked that I put one together to post.  As I’m reading over the samples, I quickly realize all of the parts of my job that I love, will soon be taken from me and given to a new person.  I went home pissed and hurt.  How did he not think of me first?  Had I not succeeded at the majority of these responsibilities, and more?  Tim thankfully took me out for a drink to help me get some perspective.  Yes, I had a right to be mad.  But at the same time, I needed to fight for it.  I went home and wrote out all the reasons why I felt like I should have the position, listing all of the accomplishments I’ve had over the last three years to further my point.  I was determined to make my case for the new position.

The next day my boss asked me if I had had the chance to look over the samples and I said that yes, I had looked over them and that I wanted the job.  He was taken aback – that possibility hadn’t even occurred to him.  I outlined my points and he said he would think about it.  A week or so later, he told me to put together the job description…for me to fill it.  I was excited and scared and proud of myself for fighting for the position.  Unfortunately, what quickly came with the promotion was the fact that I would be doing two jobs for over a month before we could hire someone to take over the duties I would no longer be doing.    What followed were weeks of late nights and days filled with not even a minute to breathe, and all of a sudden, I found myself with a job that kept me up at night worrying about the things I had to do.  I was afraid I would fail and be out of a job as a result.

In the middle of all of this, Tim and I attended an information session on California’s foster care program.  An hour or so into the meeting, we knew it wasn’t for us.  For reasons I don’t feel like getting into right now because this post will be long enough, it just didn’t sound like something we would have the energy to do.  Nor did we think it would be fair to his daughter/my step-daughter.  At the end of the session, we met with a social worker who ran the Foster-to-Adopt program for the county.  She explained the process and as she was speaking, it was as if a light turned on…it sounded like something that could really work for us.  I knew it was on the table as an option when Tim started asking questions.  And just like that, our world opened up and there was a back-up plan.

I felt like that piece of the puzzle – the lack of a back-up plan – was the final weight pressing down on my heavy shoulders.  I walked out that door and the weight was gone.  Finally.  For years now I was burdened with the very real reality that I may never be a mother.  In the past, adoption had never been on the table for us (due to the cost), so in my mind, my only option was to succeed at a pregnancy.  With my history, that felt like a longshot.  If I couldn’t make the next one work, I’d be facing a future without a child ever calling me “Mom.”  It was a future I was scared to death of facing.  And all of a sudden, that future changed.

But back to work….As I became more and more busy at work, I found I had no time to read blogs or write on my own.  Additionally, when I would get home from work, I had no desire to turn on the computer after staring at one all day.  As a result, radio silence quickly occurred on this here blog.  But what I didn’t expect was how free I felt.  I, of course, missed those that I had followed for years/months, wondering what was going on in their worlds.  Except as my positivity in this whole loss mess continued to climb, I began to think that maybe it was good for me to step back from this world.  When I’m in it, I’m in it.  I read the words of those struggling to get pregnant, those losing another chance, even those fighting against their fears while being pregnant, and I feel all of them as if they’re mine.  I’m inside their (your!) head and I can’t get out.  After being forced to step out of the world for a month, I felt alive again.  I felt like maybe, just maybe, I can do this.  And if I can’t?  I’ll be okay.  After this realization, I found myself fearful of stepping back in.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I was ovulating.  So in addition to being insanely busy at work, we were getting busy at home.  (Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.)  I was temping and doing all the things I needed to do, including taking progesterone on the chance I did get pregnant.  Tim and I had one really amazing weekend alone (we usually have my step-daughter on the weekends), and I was feeling so good.  Confident in not just our future, but in myself and my ability to fight for what I want at work, something I had never done before.  We celebrated my promotion, the day that we met and the anniversary of our first date.  February has always been a heavy month for us, and this fortunately was proving to be one of the happier (albeit stressful) ones.

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You still there?  Because it’s about to get good.  So wake up!

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The week of February 13th was insane.  We had a huge announcement as an organization coming up on the 16th, and I was spearheading it in my new position. To say I was stressed would be a bit of an understatement.  I felt like my ability to prove myself in this position was about to be tested and I couldn’t fail.  The day of the 15th, I arrived to work at 8 a.m. and stayed until 11:30 p.m.  When I got home, I continued to make a few minor tweaks to the website from bed.  I was exhausted.  And at this point, I knew I was 11 dpo and that the next morning (the 16th) I’d be 12 dpo.  I had decided I wouldn’t test until all of this was over, I knew that whatever the result was, it would distract me from the work I had to get done.  I had planned on waiting until Friday to test when I was 13 dpo, but when I woke up on Thursday, I had to know.

It was positive.

Instead of the normal waves of fear that come rushing with those two lines, I felt nothing but joy.  I didn’t feel like this time would be it, I had no instincts what so ever, but what I did know was I wanted to feel joy.  So I did.  For the fifth time in two and a half years, I was pregnant.  But this time I was happy.

I get to my office and find out that all of my hard work paid off, we had made it onto the cover of our local city’s newspaper (above the fold even!).  I couldn’t stop shaking.  That was certainly too much excitement for one hour.  The day flew by and I couldn’t believe how insane it all was.  The next few weeks were filled with telling my closest friends and family that are in the loop with my history, that we’re going to do this again.  Asking them to please send us all their good thoughts and prayers.

Shortly after I got the positive, Mo found out she was going to lose her sweet Nadav.  I was beyond devastated and knew that that was not the time to announce my pregnancy in the blogosphere. I felt so helpless and have so much love for this woman, I couldn’t believe it was happening.  In fact, I think I was in a bit of denial for quite some time.  As a testament to what an incredible and caring person she is, since she knew about the pregnancy she told me I needed to take care of myself, that the last thing I needed to do was take her pain on.  I promised her I would try my hardest.  And despite an extreme sadness that up until that point I had never felt for another human being, I didn’t take it on.  For the first time ever, I was able to separate her pain from my situation.  I strongly believe that it was because I had been out of the blog world for over a month that I had the ability to separate myself.  As much as I love this community and have grown from being here, this is the part that I have always struggled with.  This is the part that is unhealthy, but unavoidable.

Then of course a few weeks later there was that whole debacle (you know the one I’m taking about).  I did briefly come back to read about it…but instead of inspiring me to write, it sort of confirmed my reasoning for taking a step back.  This is an incredible community.  I can’t stress that enough.  The combined strength of the women here could move mountains.  I’m proud of being a part of this, and know that I have gained so much as a result…but as I’ve found myself headed out of it for quite some time (as a result of knowing my journey’s end is near, in whatever form it comes in), I have questioned whether the benefits outweigh the negatives.  And witnessing the battle between the infertiles as a silent witness, I had an even harder time wanting to come back.  I’m still on the fence about what my participation will be here on out.  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what feels right.

(And now you’re probably wishing I had just stayed away if I was going to write a novel like this…but bear with me, I’m almost done.  Aren’t you glad you got that water now?)

Before I got pregnant, I told myself that the next time I was going to take it day-by-day.  Since this is the last time I’m going to do this, I wanted to make sure that I enjoyed it.  The baby deserved that at the very least.  Due to the control I tried to have over my last one that still failed, I finally knew that no matter what the fate of the pregnancy would be, that I had no place in that outcome.  Letting go of that control is exhilarating.  In addition to this, because of the amazing piece that Jjiraffe wrote about me in her Faces of ALI series, I had a newfound compassion for myself and for what I have gone through, so I knew that all that was left for me and the baby was to be in the moment.  I am so proud to say, that for the most part, I have succeeded at this.  I have faced this pregnancy as a new pregnancy, one with it’s own chances of making it, with it’s own particular fate.  Every night when I go to bed, I tell my baby that I’m thankful he or she is here, that no matter what happens, I love him and want him so badly.  I thank it for growing and for trying.  And the next morning, I do it all over again: I face the day.

I told myself I’d wait until after I reached the fateful 7 weeks 5 days that the past ones have gone downhill or ended to get an ultrasound.  There was no point in me seeing the heartbeat when it hasn’t meant anything in the past.  Plus it felt good to not be filled with the anxiety of my doctor’s office on a weekly basis.

Yesterday I finally went.  At 8 weeks 2 days, it was measuring right on target and with a heartbeat.  It’s already further than any of it’s siblings.  And I can’t stop smiling.

Except, I can’t look beyond today…and today I’m 8 weeks, 3 days pregnant.

Today, I am pregnant.

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(You may go now.  For those of you left, thanks for sticking it out.  Hope your legs haven’t fallen asleep…or your eyelids for that matter.  Thanks so much for reading!  And for those of you that said you missed me, you still miss me now?)

Because it’s fun to say “balls.”

Thank you everyone for your incredible comments on my Festive with Whine post.  I don’t know how you do it but you continue to surprise me.  I was in the midst of so many projects at work and all of that needed to get out of my head so I could focus better.  I wrote it in five minutes and just expected a release, never did I expect a discussion to come out of it.  If you haven’t had a chance to read it, I recommend it just so you can read the comments.  You guys are awesome in so many ways.

The end of my craziness is in sight.  I actually never thought I’d want Christmas to be over with already, but this year I’ve never been more ready for the day to actually get here so I can just stop for a moment.  I’m exhausted.

The thing is, I’m not one of those people who can just go out and buy a gift.  No, I have to make it difficult for myself and everyone around me by turning my surroundings into my own personal Santa’s Workshop.  I’m crazy.  But I like to think it’s all worth it.

I thought I’d share with you some of the treats I’ve been making.  I wish I could send each and every one of you your own personal treat box filled with the goods you see here.  But since I can’t at this time (I wouldn’t put it past me to do actually do that at some point), you’ll have to settle for a virtual treat box.  Someone really needs to work on making scratch n’ taste digital photos.

In return for making you drool, I’ll even give you a recipe. But first, the sweets:

Vanilla Bean Marshmallows

(K thought they looked like tofu…but I can assure you, they taste nothing like bean curd and everything like pillowy bits of heaven in your mouth.)

Chocolate French Macarons with an Orange-Chocolate Ganache

(K thought these looked like mini hamburgers, and I really can’t argue with that.  But these?  These are bite-size chocolatey pieces of goodness.  And as soon as I realized they had a 2-day shelf-life, I made sure they didn’t go to waste.  And by that I mean I ate them.  Almost all of them.)

Salty-Sweet Bark

Black Cherry Chocolate Bourbon Balls

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And now to make up for teasing you like that, here’s the recipe for the Black Cherry Chocolate Bourbon Balls.  They may not look like much, but they are fudgey and delicious, with quite a big kick of bourbon.  I think you can get drunk just from the fumes that are released when opening the container you keep them in.  Just how a bourbon ball should be.

This is adapted from a super-top-secret recipe given to me by a professor at the university I worked at before moving to California, one that was coveted by every employee in our building.  Good thing I charmed him into giving it to me, because it really is the best bourbon ball you will ever have (too bad I’m not giving you that recipe).  I feel comfortable posting my version of it here because I really changed it dramatically, and the main ingredient below is not at all what he has in his, so I think I’m safe.  And a funny little tidbit before you get to the recipe – I had a new bottle of Maker’s Mark (my bourbon of choice) open and ready to be used here, but I just couldn’t waste it like this.  Not that it would have been a complete waste, but Maker’s is meant to be sipped, not mixed with chocolate in my opinion.  I’m glad I’m a bourbon snob, because the Black Cherry bourbon I’ve had on my shelf for almost a year really made the recipe a hit.

Now go forth and make ye’ some balls!  (hehehe)

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Black Cherry Chocolate Bourbon Balls
makes 40-50 balls

1 – 10 oz. pkg. Chocolate Teddy Grahams, crushed

1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar

6 oz. semi-sweet chocolate

 1/2 cup of Jim Beam’s Red Stag Black Cherry bourbon (if you can’t find this, any ole’ bourbon will do…but this really takes it up a notch from your everyday bourbon ball, so I recommend trying to find it)

3 tbsp light corn syrup

1 cup chopped pecans (or any type nut)

granulated sugar

In the top of a double-boiler, melt chocolate.  Once smooth, remove from heat and stir in corn syrup and bourbon.  In a large mixing bowl, combine crushed Teddy Grahams, confectioners’ sugar and chopped nuts.  Add chocolate mixture and let stand for 30 minutes.  Shape into 1-inch balls and roll in granulated sugar.

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Enjoy with a highball of Maker’s Mark, spiked hot chocolate or hot-buttered rum (stay tuned for the recipe).

Let me know what you think if any of you make them.  I’ll just be on the couch, drunk from the remaining ones I have at home.

Happy Christmas week, everyone!

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(If you’re so inclined, check out the treats I made last year)

Gratitude.

I’m smiling today for the first time in a few weeks, and it has everything to do with these girls.  Esperanza and I helped Jjiraffe celebrate her birthday yesterday, and we had such a great time.  It takes a lot to get me out of the house these days, but I’m so happy I went.  It’s been hard for me to find girls around here that I connect with, but not any more.  These girls are my girls.

Thanks for helping me smile today, E and J.  I can’t wait until we get to do it again.  Mmwah!

(Now go check out some fun pics from Esperanza.)

On “giving up.”

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed a dramatic change in my spirit.  I’ve begun to feel lighter, even starting to believe that maybe this road moving forward doesn’t have to be so bad.  Maybe I can still find joy along this path my life has taken.  I’ve even felt it in my entire body, this joy starting to creep in.

Until yesterday, that is.

Yesterday, when I started my day with a negative pregnancy test.  It’s safe to say that put a little bit of a temporary damper on my spirit.

The tears I fought back during the day came to the surface with the bitter reminder of just how tired I am of all of this.  I know I’ve said that a thousand times before, but it’s times like this where my exhaustion with this comes rushing back and I just want it be over.  After the fourth loss, the last little bit of fight I had in me dissipated; and for my own sanity, I knew I needed to start becoming more comfortable with accepting I may not have a child of my own.  Yet in order for me to fully accept that that may be my fate, I know I have to give it one more try.

So that’s where I am now….trying to give it one more try.  Except I’m anxious for that try to hurry up and get here, because I can’t keep living in this world of not knowing.  Two years with 4 devastating losses has made that world hell.

I know what you are thinking, especially those of you still in the thick of it, still with some fight left in you:  Don’t give up!  You can’t give up!  That’s what I would have said a loss or two ago, back when I still felt in my heart I couldn’t give up until I had that child in my arms.  I couldn’t even fathom how women could even get to the point where they would stop fighting for that.  I couldn’t understand how they could just give up.

That was all before I knew what devastation four losses would bring to me and my life.  After each of their little hearts stopped beating, a part of mine stopped with it.  The part that would do anything to have a baby.  The part that will be forever left with the four I was forced to leave behind.  I am all of a sudden looking into the face of the women I feared so much of becoming.  The part of my heart that wants to keep fighting for this until I have that baby in my arm…has started to slow to a stop.

I know to a lot of you, this probably sounds incredibly sad.  And to the part of me that mourns for the life I thought I was going to have…is incredibly sad by this.  I also know some of you may be frightened you may have to get to this point yourself.  I know what that feels like, I know how scary that is.  But that’s part of why I’m writing this.  It turns out I was wrong all along.  This isn’t giving up.  This is knowing when you’ve done all that your heart can bear.

It’s me trying to stop the pain I keep experiencing from being inside all of this.  It’s me questioning if the pain still feels worth it, and all of a sudden feeling the desire to fight my way out of it all, instead of fighting for what I have desired all along.

If my last try doesn’t work out, I know the road still won’t be easy, at least not until all of my friends and family get out of the “child-bearing” years.  Even then the pain will still be present at every birth I hear about that isn’t my own; but at least now I have faith it will lesson as time passes.  That’s what this has brought me.  I now believe life can still be wonderful and happy, even if the part of me having my own child doesn’t come true.  The part of me that’s lighter is the part of me that is ready to begin new dreams that can take the place of my old dreams.  I need to move on from this chapter in my life so I can start living it again, because while living in this hell, I’ve lost who I was.  And yet at the same time, I know I’ve uncovered a new me that I’m ready to discover.

Please know I’m not saying this to try and convince those of you out there in the midst of this battle to stop fighting.  The chances you’ll have a baby are very much on your side, especially if you still have the fight.  Don’t give that up until you’ve done absolutely all that your heart can bear.  This is simply my story and what my experience has led me to, not your story or where you’ll end up.  I hope you continue to fight and get what you so badly want.  Even if this chapter of my life closes without a baby in my arms, I’ll still fight for you to get yours.  That fight hasn’t ended.  I’m here until the end for all of you.  And maybe in the meantime, you’ll get to see me fight for something new.

Or maybe you will get to see me with one in mine.  I do still have one more try, after all.  And you never know…maybe if we just relax…

Not-Penny’s Baby Shower

When I first came across Runny Yolk, I had just had my 3rd miscarriage and I was finally reaching out to the blogging community to find others that had experienced similar loss and frustrations.  After just one read, she made it onto my reader.

I soon discovered she wasn’t just someone who had experienced pain, her voice was unlike any other I had read.  It wasn’t what she was writing – since she was talking about the same thing we were all talking about – but it was how  she said it that hit me.  Her words were raw and honest, evoking emotion that inspired readers in this community to want to come together and fight this as one.  She never apologized for her emotions, and as a result, gave me a confidence to do the same.

When I found out I was pregnant for the 4th time, Elphaba was the first person in the community I told.  She had just found out she was pregnant 7 weeks prior, so I knew she would be able to help me navigate the first few scary weeks.  If it weren’t for her, they would have been nearly impossible to make it through.  When I found out the baby had no heartbeat, she was there for me without hesitation.  Throughout the next few weeks, she and a few other incredible women in this community, came together to show me love that I didn’t know could exist with this kind of grief.  During this entire 2-year battle, it was in these moments I finally felt the support I so badly needed all the other times.

So to sum it all up: this girl pretty much rocks.  I’m so thankful she’s in my life and I can call her my friend.  And even though she’s about to give birth, the voice that originally spoke to me never once got buried in the midst of the pregnancy glow, and she still continues to inspire.

And now onto the present and the only baby shower I’ve looked forward to since all this mess began!

I originally thought of the idea when looking at the pictures of her nursery and I was inspired by the colors she chose.  Also, I noticed her walls are suspiciously bare.  Since I can’t seem to buy people presents when I can make them one instead, I immediately knew what I was going to design.

For your wall, Little Elphie:

Once the little one is born, I will obviously replace “Not Penny” with Little Elphie’s real name, as well as her actual birth time, weight, city and province (except, Elphaba, I think I should win a prize if this really is her weight!).  It will arrive to your door in an 8 x 10 frame and will be packed with love.  And of course, it is open to changes if you would like them, Elphaba.

Congratulations, Elphaba…I couldn’t be happier for you and Mr. M.  Thanks for being not only such a strong voice in this community, but for being an incredible friend through all of this.  I can’t wait for the day I get to give you a real-life hug.

To read more of the lovely ladies partaking in this virtual baby shower for Miss Elphaba, please head over to Mommy Odyssey’s blog.  And thank you, Mo, for organizing this.  We’re I’m not worthy!  We’re I’m not worthy!

To read Elphaba’s response to the shower, click here.

Another installment of “My life according to my phone.”

Last week my parents came to visit and we had such a great time. My folks are very laid back and low maintenance, so their visits are always welcome. I got to play tourist in my town and travel up to Mendocino for the first time, down to Alacatraz, and of course, there was the requisite wine tasting with my mom.

I took some pretty fun photos while they were here as well as some the week before for my birthday; so in light of the sadness I’ve felt the last few days for my friend and some tough changes at work, I’m going to post them here for a little momentary distraction. I hope you enjoy them as well. Happy Friday, everyone!

At home after my birthday dinner and feeling blissful.

This was my birthday gift from Tim and perhaps the best birthday present I have ever received.  I’ve been needing a solution for my jewelry as it was clumped all in bowls; I came home from North Carolina to this.  I was floored.  He and K had worked all weekend on it.  They made it out of salvaged windows and found small prints I had been saving and glued them to the backs of the glass that remained, then glued small wood slats and hung copper nails. 

I love it times a thousand. 

So what if I baked my own birthday cake?  The pumpkiny-browned-buttercream-topped-with-caramel-walnut-goodness wasn’t going to bake itself. 

This is a little mushroom forest made out of rocks in the middle of Yountville.  Wouldn’t these look great in a garden?

My mom and I.  Isn’t she the cutest?  And that’s just her natural pink aura, not a fancy trick mirror in Yountville.

A storm in the bay – as seen from Alcatraz.

The Warden’s home – Alcatraz.

Miniature San Francisco.

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And then there’s this….

(It’s not pretty, but I have to show someone besides Tim)

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Have you ever seen a bruise quite like that?  And in that location?!  I mean, this picture doesn’t do it justice because it’s BRIGHT baby-blue – pretty much the color of my shirt, only brighter.  It’s really hot.  But don’t you worry, you can have one, too!  Just squeeze your arm in between a gate and a fence, and it can be yours!  (Remember when I did that, mom and dad?  THIS was the result!)

And that concludes this installment of needing-to-clear-some-photos-off-my-phone.

Hope you all have a great weekend!  Just remember to keep your arm clear of wooden gates…

Joy.

Lake Glenville, North Carolina.

Aaaaaaand….32 it is!

Today, on my 32nd birthday, I’m filled with hope.

I look back on the last 2 years and think of the hell that I’ve been through, and today, I feel strong.  Stronger than the woman 2 years ago that didn’t yet know pain.  And although, even now, the pain of each loss is still so vivid, the devastation so clear…here I am on the other side and I’m still breathing.  My breath may be weathered, but it now knows how to fight for the air I need to survive this little life of mine.  I’m left with scars that will forever be on my soul…but I’m able to sit here and tell the world about it.  For that, I’m proud.  I made it through it all and came out a better person.

Maybe I feel this way today because I just spent the weekend with an incredible group of friends, who gave me the energy to feel empowered.  They love me for who I am and always will, and a weekend of laughter with my favorite girls in all of the world, is a good way to get your energy back.  It was a weekend full of babies and pregnancy and consistent talk of both….and although in the beginning it was difficult, the love I have for them far outweighed the struggle that was going on in my head and I succumbed to it.  And I honestly think it’s just what I needed.  (It helped that my friend’s babies had smiles that could melt even the toughest of hearts.)

My life may not turn out the way I had envisioned it, but it still has the possibility of being great.  I have so much love in my life, and I feel so incredibly grateful.  And maybe that’s enough for me.

My horoscope today says: “Today’s New Moon in your sign signals a sudden break from your past if you are ready to place your new intentions into action.” I think it sounds like a good plan to break from my past today, and I’m ready to put new intentions into action.  2 years of this is enough, wouldn’t you say?  I’m also thinking the fact the New Moon is falling on my birthday is an even greater omen.

Today, I have hope.

32 may just be the year it all turns around.

—-

One year ago today: Hello, 31.

 

Ready for a change.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having a hard time getting back into blogging.  After I was forced away due to lack of internet in Brazil, I just can’t seem to get back into the swing of things.  The sad part is, I haven’t even really missed it.  I think I just got to a point where I was overwhelmed by it and by what this blog turned into for me.  It was never meant to be a miscarriage blog.  It started as a way to connect my family back home to my pregnancy, so they could be a part of the changes in my body and the growth of their grandchild from afar…but then it got forced into the exact opposite.  Which, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I could never fully express how thankful I am for this community that I’ve discovered and the people I’ve met through it.  I would never give that back.  I shutter to think where I’d be without you all.

It’s just…when I come to this space now, I just feel kind of blah.  Although, if I’m being honest, I think I’m feeling that way in many areas of my life outside of my blog, too.  I was telling Tim last night that I can’t remember the last time I was truly happy.  I mean, I’ve found happiness here and there, but I can’t remember the last time I was literally beaming from joy or bursting at the seems with excitement.  This past year and half has beaten the crap out of me and has left me wondering who the hell this new Courtney is and what it is that gives her happiness now.  I don’t do anything for myself for purely the joy of it, I don’t even know what that would be at this point.  I think part of my separation from my blog has been to re-access my life.  I’ve spent a lot of time coming here to vent my sadness, but then I get sucked into it and have a hard time separating this life from my real life.  I need to get better at that.  I want to come here and talk about joyful things, things that make me happy and make my life worth living.  I want this space to be positive again.  Maybe, just maybe, I’m tired of hearing myself whine and I’m just ready to be happy again.

Brazil forced me out of my wallowing every day life and into a life of the unknown.  A life where the sun was warm on my skin and the water that surrounded me gave me an energy I didn’t realize I needed.  For a couple of weeks after I returned, every time my acupuncturist saw me he said Brazil was still surrounding me, the effects of it palpable.  But now I think that’s gone and I’m craving a way to find it here, in the life I have to live every day.  I guess this connects to my last post, in that I think I can achieve this with practicing living in the now.  I know it’s possible, it’s just going to take some work.

It’s funny, I think once I started getting readers, it stopped being solely about me here.  That’s not to say every post I have written hasn’t been from a genuine place or written with complete and utter honesty and I have never altered my thoughts or feelings to cater to an audience.  But it made it easier to focus on the reason they found me to begin with.  It made me obsessed with how many hits I got in a day and how many subscribers I had.  As awesome as it felt (and still feels) to know people want to read my words, it’s not why I should blog.  It’s not why anyone should blog.  (Although, anyone who spent junior high and high school feeling constantly picked on and left out would be lying if she said it didn’t feel good to be liked.  It certainly does!)  And as a result of stepping back and forcing myself to stop obsessing about my hits, it has made me re-evaluate why I’m here.  I want to readjust my focus.  It doesn’t mean I won’t still talk about my struggles with my losses, they’re a part of me now.  I just need to make a conscious effort to focus on the things in my life I am thankful for.  I am blessed with so much in this life of mine, and I need to stop ignoring those things and surround myself in them instead.

I hope by saying all of this, I don’t offend any of you still reading.  You still mean the world to me and I hope you don’t go away.  Maybe you already have, and I promise I don’t blame you.  And if I am able to shift my focus and concentrate on happier things, it doesn’t mean I won’t be here to give you the support you may need.  I can’t erase what I’ve gone through, and in a way, I wouldn’t want to (although, I guess I would trade my year of hell if it meant I’d have my babies here, but you know what I mean).  This community has given me the strength to get where I am now.  Without you, I wouldn’t be able to recognize the bubble I’ve been in and how desperately I’m ready to get out.

When I finally get to be a mother, I want to be able to show my child joy and happiness in our every day life.  I would hate for he or she to have a mother that just lives day to day without a smile on her face.  I have faith I can find it.  And in the meantime, I’m still here for every one of you that need me.  And I thank you with my whole heart for being here for me.  I wouldn’t be here without you.

I hope just maybe you’ll still stick with me through this all.  I know I have so much more to give…not just to Tim and the people around me, but to myself.  I deserve better than this.  I deserve to beam with joy and burst with excitement.  And I know it’s possible.