Mars Mission

I am at a loss of how to cope with the current situation. My SIL (not married, but might as well be) is one of the lucky people to be chosen from 200,000+ applicants to go onto the next round of selection for the Mars One project (the people who will actually go to Mars in 2024ish). She is one of 1058 people, with a 2% chance of being in the final 24 who will actually go to the red planet. I think this is super exciting! The rest of DH's family does not. I understand no one wants to see her go, but at this point (and I keep reminding them of this) it's a really slim chance that she will get to go.

The awful part is that the next round is based somewhat on medical profiles. All that's going against SIL is her bad eye sight. In talking with the IL's yesterday, it almost sounds as though they are wishing there was more wrong with her so that she couldn't go. Is this really selfish of them, or am I just head-in-the-clouds optimistic that everything will work out?

It breaks my heart. In all of the interviews SIL has given, she keeps saying how she doesn't have a lot of support and that she wishes more people would support this mission. The whole thing (going to Mars, setting up a community/civilization) is pretty amazing and great and ground breaking (earth shattering?)!

And here's where my head is at: I've been doing a bible study (Beth Moore) on the book of Esther. When SIL announced that she was doing this and when the IL's started freaking out, I was brought back to some of the verses in the book: Who knows if you were made queen for such a time as this? / Who knows if SIL was put on this planet for this mission? And also, one of the lessons talked about "If ___ then ___" where the first blank is the worst thing that could happen (SIL goes to Mars) and the second blank will always be God (He will take care of us). 

So how do I, a recent re-believer, tell a whole-life-Catholic woman to trust in God? To support SIL's choice, as maybe it isn't really hers to begin with? How do I tell her that it is not enough for us to trust Him that what we fear most will never happen to us (most of what we fear never does happen to us). It is not enough to have conditional faith and conditional trust. We need to trust God PERIOD. Trust Him. Not trust Him to not let it happen; TRUST HIM. So what if our worst fears come true? What if we lose someone we don't think we can live without? We may think it will kill us, but it will not, because our God is faithful.

Should that which I fear most come upon me, then my God will take care of me. 

Getting it Off My Chest

This is a long one. You’ve been warned.

Okay, truth be told, it’s only one person in my life who is being a huge asshole to me. The worst part is that she doesn’t even know, because I don’t want to tell her. So far, the only hurtful things she’s said to my face were before she told me she was pregnant. Everything else has been by text or Facebook. So, no reason to lash out when the tone could have been misconstrued.

But I’d like to address my feelings on each statement, because if I don’t they’ll just stay bottled up and it’ll be like a volcano if she triggers me to my face. And, saying it out loud to someone feels like gossip. I don’t know; there’s something about typing it that, although real to me, seems more like a story on the page, and less like real life. Less like I’m being a terrible person and more like I’m a really great tragic-story teller. Also, I don’t necessarily want sympathy at this stage of the game. Just to get it out.

Oh, and I can’t tell her, because her feelings will get hurt. It’s been apparent in the past that she does not understand how to be sympathetic. The whole “put yourself in the other person’s shoes”? Yeah; she’s incapable of doing that.

I, however, feel like I can do that. I know that if I were to say a lot of these things to her that it would hurt her feelings, it would come across as though I wish she wasn’t pregnant. It would come across as though I wish she would miscarry, that she would have to grieve as I have been. It would come across as though I should be the one who gets to have a happy, healthy baby first, and that she needs to wait. None of these statements are true. Deep down, I’m so happy that she’s going to have a baby, and I hope it is happy and healthy and that everything goes swimmingly for the whole pregnancy and beyond.

What she said: “Don’t worry; you’ll get pregnant again. You’ve been pregnant once; you’re obviously fertile!”

What I said: “Yeah, I guess.”

What I wanted to say: Are you serious? You are a nurse, and that’s your advice to me? That’s what you think comfort is? I don’t want to step on a medical professional’s toes, but that’s the dumbest thing anyone has said to me. First off, if that statement is true, how do you explain secondary infertility? Huh? Just because I’ve been pregnant once doesn’t mean zip to me. Why? Because I didn’t get my take-home baby. Yeah, sperm met egg and it tried to implant – once. There is no guarantee that it’ll happen a second time. What if it was my only good egg? Further, who’s to say that, even if I do get pregnant again, that it will result in a take-home baby? No one. No one can guarantee that my one miscarriage is a fluke. What if there’s something actually wrong? What if I’m never able to carry a baby to term? So far, I haven’t had much success in that, so don’t tell me I’m “obviously” anything, because for all anyone knows, I’m not.

What she said: “So I would just like to let u know me and [DH] are expecting our first baby.”

What I said: “Congrats!”

What I wanted to say: I wish you hadn’t told me. I wish it was a joke. I wish I didn’t know that you weren’t actually trying, and here I am taking my temperature every morning trying to pinpoint ovulation because my cycles are FUBAR and range between 30 and 45 days. Why did you tell me? I didn’t tell you when I got a + HPT. I didn’t even tell you that I was miscarrying, or right after. I didn’t tell you anything until a month after it happened. So why are you telling me? Do you think it gives me hope? It doesn’t. It makes me really sad that I’m not pregnant. It makes me angry because I’m good at math and I know you’ll have this baby before you’ve even been married a year. I’ve been married over a year and no baby to show for it yet. So thanks for rubbing it in my face that I’m not pregnant but you are and isn’t that fucking wonderful.

What she said: “Now u gotta getter done so our babies can be besties lol”

What I said: Nothing

What I wanted to say: That’s a really heartless thing to say. You should know by now that I’m not getting pregnant very easily, and that my one and only pregnancy has ended in a loss. You know how badly I want a baby, so you’re going to make a joke about it? If I was pregnant it would be fun and games and wonderful. But I’m not. I’m grieving my lost child. My first baby will never be my take-home baby. So l-o-fucking-l. I’m not laughing.

What she posted on facebook: (has since been deleted) something along the lines of how you feel so sick

What I wanted to say: I wish I could be sick. It would mean I’m still pregnant. Shut your mouth about feeling like crap: other people would love to be in your shoes.

What she posted on facebook: “Well at least my baby let me feel good for most of the week. Back to all day sickness”

What I wanted to say: Again, shut up. Stop complaining about being pregnant. I wish so hard that I could be pregnant; that this is all a dream and I’ll wake up and not have to cancel my first OB appointment, that I still have to clean the spare bedroom and get it ready for a baby, that I’m looking forward to maternity leave, that DH and I are arguing about middle names. I wish I wasn’t still taking my temperature, waiting for fertile CM, ordering OPKs off amazon, and going to therapy for my loss. So when you think about how shitty it is to be sick, imagine all of it being gone, and all of those plans you’re making dashed, and all of the people you’ve told, well, now you have to tell them it’s not happening any more. Imagine that for 30 seconds and then shut your mouth. I don’t want to hear you complain about being pregnant. Ever.

To be totally honest, I’ve purposefully looked at her facebook page (I’ve blocked her news from showing up on my feed). I’ve let her comments ring in my head too often. I’ve complained about her a lot. To multiple people. When she first told me, I avoided seeing her (I even had someone check if she was going to a meeting so that I wouldn’t have to face her). Even today, I don’t want to see her. If I end up in her presence, unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay. Because I’m still not ready to admit that she gets a baby before I do. It’s not fair.

I realize, life isn’t fair, everything happens for a reason, etc etc. BUT she’s always tried to compete with me (I feel this way, and another friend agrees so much that she’s told the whole torrid tale to her boyfriend). Honestly, I’ve been able to shrug it off until now. Let’s examine:

I get a good boyfriend (the first one that lasts longer than 3 months) September 2009. She gets a good boyfriend (after the worst relationship ever) September 2010.

I get engaged May 2011. She gets engaged (bigger diamond) January 2012.

I buy a house & move in October 2011. She buys a bigger house & moves in April 2012.

I get a dog (rescue) October 2011. She gets a puppy (from a breeder) May 2012.

I get married November 2012. She gets married (bigger wedding) July 2013.

I get pregnant July 2013. She gets pregnant October 2013.

I miscarry July 2013. She’s still pregnant November 2013.

She wins. I guess. If this is a contest. I was never competing. I never wanted to. I just happened to do everything first (and, in my opinion, better). Even my other friend thinks it’s ridiculous how closely she followed my timeline. All the way down to quitting birth control in April 2013, the same time I did (although I didn’t tell her).

And that’s the last thing I’ll touch on. Quitting birth control before your wedding. HUGE side-eye from me, because I was told over and over and over again that the first year is the hardest year of marriage. And then, when you have a baby, it’s supposed to get even harder. I wasn’t about to throw a wrench into our first year (nor having an unexpected period on my wedding/honeymoon), so I stayed on the pill until we were 5 months in. Less hormones = less crazy = less fights. She quit before she was even married. And now, 4 months into her marriage, she’s pregnant. She went on her honeymoon knocked up (sounds boring to me; that sushi and those exotic drinks were amazing). They’ll have this baby before they’ve reached the one year mark*.

I’m not the only one who thinks they rushed into this marriage (especially given her history with men). And here they are, rushed into a baby. Honestly, I hope for their sakes that it all works out, but who knows at this point. I never had high hopes.

I sound like an awful friend. Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t want her in my life. But maybe I’m nice enough to play nice until life separates us somehow, so I don’t have to say “I don’t like you; have a nice life”.

* A co-worker of mine got pregnant on her honeymoon. She had twins! They are adorable. She did not get a side-eye from me though, because she and her husband were together for like TEN YEARS before they got married. I’m pretty sure she was in her early 30’s. They hadn’t known each other for only 3 years, nor were either of them new to their professions, so no side-eye from me. They had their shit together.

I’m just upset that it’s not me. I’m upset that it wasn’t me this last cycle. I’m upset that she’s not taking my feelings into account, like I think a friend should.

 

Glutton for Punishment

I do it to myself. I can't seem to help myself. This seems to be the spiral that my brain does:

"Hey Karen, you seem to be in a really shitty mood. You haven`t eaten all day, you need more sleep, and your list of things to do is a mile a long. You know what would be fun? If you went onto Facebook...

Look up that friend you hid from your timeline....

You know, the one who knows all about your miscarriage, has assured you that you're fertile, and who wasn't trying to get pregnant but now is and said "now you gotta getter done so our babies can be besties?"

Yeah, her. Look at her timeline and her most recent status update...

Oh, she's feeling really tired and wants to puke? What do the comments say?

Aww, everyone is guessing (correctly) that she's knocked up! Well, I guess you should feel really bad now...

And blog about it. Can't Facebook rant, because she's on there. Can't instagram, because she's on there, and you can't even write a cryptic tweet because she's on there, too! You really don't need to complain about it again on the TTCAL boards, because you've done that lots, and your husband doesn't want to hear you complain now when you walked right into it, and your mom doesn't get it. So, blog."

I have decided that I don't care if she's pregnant or how far along; if she complains to me about it, she will get a piece of my mind. I would love to be tired and nauseous and achy and crampy and hungry and excited and nervous and everything else that goes with being pregnant. I would love to have a little baby growing in me again. To have that chance to be a parent. I would love to, and after having all of it taken away, I don't think I could bring myself to complain about one single symptom. How could I? How could I complain about the side effects of the best thing in my life?

I'm at a loss as to what to do with all of these feelings. "Cry it out" seems to be the best solution. How many tears will it take until I stop doing this .... I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Between the miscarriage and growing hatred of my job, even my MK mentor said I was wilting.

TANGENT: I love my MK mentor. She is such a loving, Godly woman, and I am blessed to have her in my life. She helps find the silver lining. She was over the other day to help me shine up that silver lining, and we had a really good talk. She's a doodler, and at one point she had written "Joy" on the paper (and then surrounded it with hearts) and said she wants me to have that back. She can see that I've lost that. And every time I do MK I put on the happiest face I can muster. And she can still see that I'm wilting. I know I am.

I am wilting. I had big plans for this time of year: I would be working hard to get all my work cleaned up, because I was going to go on mat leave before Christmas. December 15th or something like that - I would've been 7 months along. Fuck work! I needed to de-stress and find out all I could about making my own baby food, and find something cute to wear for Christmas dinners. Now at Christmas, I'll be lucky to be just barely further along than I was the first time.

I keep circling back to this. All of this "I was supposed to be" and "We were going to" and "If only".

But for now, I'm going to be strong and I will persevere because I am hopeful. Because maybe it's easier to be hopeful and happy than tired and sorrowful. Only one way to find out.

So Many Feelings

This is most of an email I sent to my mentor & friend, as explanation why I would be absent from a meeting this evening. The friend in question will be at the meeting, and I can't be happy to her face yet. I can't be happy yet. Also, loss is hard.

Friend texted me on Saturday night to say she's pregnant (actual wording: expecting their first child). It was pretty much a huge punch to the gut for me, and it opened up very sore wounds that I thought I had a handle on (after all, I was expecting my first child too, but God wanted my first child early). After a lot of tears and even more praying, I texted her back a simple "Congrats!" hoping that she wouldn't reply. She did. With: "Thanks :) now u gotta getter done so our babies can be besties lol". Now, usually, this would be funny and I'd be able to laugh as well, but not anymore. Not since July. And I've expressed to her previously that it's been hard for me, but I don't think she gets it. A lot of people don't get it. This is the third pregnancy announcement since my loss. One was on facebook (easily blocked, although I would have been due in March the same as she is), one was at work (and it took me a while to tell her congrats, at which point she was so super caring and understood why it took me a while because she's had two losses, so I'm able to be super happy for her), and now this one. This one hurts the most because she said they weren't even really trying. They haven't even gone on their honeymoon yet.
 
And here I am, taking my temperature every morning trying to pinpoint ovulation so that we have a good chance. Here I am, trying really hard not to feel like I'm rushing/replacing. I just can't be happy for her to her face yet. I know I should be, and somewhere deep down I am really happy for her, but my heart aches so much because, yet again, here I am thinking "it should be me; why isn't it me?" And now, I'm hurt all over again, and I fear that she'll tell me that I "need to relax", "just let it happen", "don't worry", "you'll be next", and I can't hear that. Those words are not reassuring. (She told me a while ago that "clearly" I was fertile because I've been pregnant. I didn't know how to respond. I was going to say "It doesn't count if it's not a take-home baby" but I couldn't bring myself to say it. It "doesn't count"? It counts a lot. But I feel like other people think that because it was so early it really doesn't count. It counts to me. It counts to me every day. It hurts that people think it should be easily replaceable. That I should just "getter done".) 



So I'm going to stay at home, clean my house, and eat (probably) most of the pumpkin chocolate chip cake I baked last night. Also, loss is hard. For a long time.

Welcome!

First post; welcome to my blog! Herein will lie my musings, ramblings, and stories. Mostly real-life things. You'll be warned if something I write is fiction. I promise.

Who I am: A wife, daughter, and sister. A mother to one angel baby and one fur baby. I have a home-based business that I work on a part-time basis, and I also work full-time at a large insurance company (read: paper pusher). I wish I could be a Stay At Home Wife with my business, but the timing isn't right yet. One day.

In the meantime, my husband and I are trying to conceive our first take-home baby. I was pregnant for a very short time in the summer of this year (213), but alas, it ended, and took a piece of my heart with it. Our little Raspberry. So, we've started over. There will probably be a post about it later on in the blog.

For now, I wanted to just start a blog again! It's been a while since I've done the whole blogging thing (pretty sure I was single back when I last blogged), so now, my feet are wet, and the adventure can continue! Huzzah!