Spinning Yellow

I Knew It Was Just a Matter of Time

I was upstairs putting things away this morning when I heard Matt's voice from behind the closed door to his office.

"Lori?  Could you come in here?"

"Sure," I said as I stopped making Jane's bed.

I opened the door and saw Matt working at his computer.  My eyes landed on the coffee mug next to him and I knew what he was going to say before the words came out.

I beat him to it.  "You want me to get you more coffee, right?"

"Would you?  With a little skim milk and Splenda, please."

"Sure, honey."

I figure it is the least I could do since I completely ignored his birthday.

I am not sure I want him to make a habit out of it, though!!

And that, my friends, is my last post of NaBloPoMo.  Yea!!  I should do a month in review, but for right now, I will be happy not to feel any more pressure to get something out by the end of the day.  I won't take any big break because I am in a routine now (and I have a long list of things I want to post), but I will relax a bit.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming along for this ride.  For reading, commenting, e-mailing, sympathizing, laughing, supporting. 

NoMoNaBloPoMo (No More National Blog Posting Month)!!

Stick a Fork In Me

I'm done.  Toast.  But I am not willing to give up on NaBloPoMo. 

You know when you haven't been feeling well and then you start to feel a little bit better and since you've gotten so far behind while you were down and out, you decide to do way too many things at once, like make many phone calls, including one to a financial guy that makes your head swim and the doctor, again, and the dentist who will be filling your son's cavity tomorrow, and then because you have entirely too many things to do like return the damn dots and you know you can't possibly take your 3 year old along with you, you beg your mom to come over so you can go out alone, and she does because she lives near by and feels sufficiently sorry for you especially since she will be leaving for a two week long vacation right through Thanksgiving, so you head to Bed Bath and Beyond first to get the belated birthday present for your sister, then go to Target to return said dots which takes way too long to do, so you need to get a drink and a snack and then you try to find replacement presents and start to feel kind of weak but know that it is too much trouble to abandon your mission when you have a free babysitter so you press on to Lowes to get a needed light bulb which requires asking 2 different people to help you and then you move on to Michaels to return more dots and secure new birthday presents and some stuff for your daughter who is now out the dots which was a present for her successful potty training and then realize that it is dangerously close to 4pm which is when the bus drops off your son so you call your mother and once again beg her to make dinner because your husband won't be home until after the kids are in bed since it is his first day at a new job and he is attending some kind of training and dinner and then you rush into Wegmans feeling really ill but can't find a cart so you just lug around the plates and napkins you need to get for your daughter's school function and a gallon of milk and checkout just in time to get home for the bus and your over-worked mom and then rush through homework and putting the things away so you can go to your mom's for dinner and then get home in time to do baths and put the kids to bed without stories and then pay some bills and finally get a chance to sit down to read e-mail and blogs which you want to respond to but can't even think straight and, oh, yeah, post something yourself?

That's what I'm talking about.  Done.

'Night.

Debrief

Thank-you.  Thank-you.  Thank-you.  A million thank yous for listening, commenting, e-mailing.  For your support and encouragement.  For getting it.

Writing and now re-visiting and posting that story has been a cathartic experience for me.  While I do hope that it helps people, it has also been an enormous deal for me.  Blogging is the perfect venue for me.  I get to post what I want to talk about and people can choose to read or not.  I already had a person search on "Sensory Processing Disorder constipation" yesterday and find my story here (oh, the things we are proud of).  But more than that, I get this sense of community, these friends that I know in real life and those that I only know as internet buddies.  And it is all good.

So while I was posting that saga, a whole bunch of things happened in the here and now.  I will give you more updates tomorrow, first I have to tell you the most significant things:

It is now day 10 of NaBloPoMo.  My tenth post in as many days.  I made it one third of the way through the month!  Yea!

Writing that story reminded Matt and I of many little incidents along the way.  Like the first school friend birthday party that Scott went to at a rock gym when he was 3 and a half.  He was terrified of climbing the wall and he was uncomfortable, as he often became later in the day, because he had to go to the bathroom (sometimes he'd even ask to go to bed early knowing that once he was asleep his misery would end).  We left the party before cake was served and had to make an excuse that he didn't feel well.  I was embarrassed that the birthday boy's parents had paid for Scott to participate when he didn't at all.  And Scott sobbed the whole way home knowing that he missed the cake and fearing that his friends would find out about his problem.  Good times.

Another stand out moment was when a friend of mine, in response to my telling a group of moms from the neighborhood about Scott's problem, remarked, "Well I wouldn't be able to take that if it was my kid!"

I stared at her and said, "We don't have a choice.  Would you kick your kid out if this was their problem?"

It took me a long time to feel comfortable around her again. 

Anyway, the other thing that has happened is that reading your comments and thinking about the story have helped keep my mind off the fact that I am having a miscarriage.

While I knew this was an inevitable outcome of the news from last week, I guess I chose not to think about how it would all go down.  I know that it is incredibly common, in fact almost all of my friends have had at least one failed pregnancy.  But in case you are not familiar (or have blocked it out of your memory as I am thinking I might), let's just say that having a miscarriage sucks.  I have felt like crap all week, headaches and exhausted from the drop in hormones.  And now, well, without going into too much detail, it is a crampy, bloody, scary mess with no sweet infant at the end to look forward to.  I've been ill all day and wondering whether it will get worse before it gets better and I will end up in the hospital. 

And I have stuff to do!  Dammit!

I am sick of feeling lousy.  I am looking forward to running again.  To drinking wine.  To staying up past 10 pm.  To getting something done.

Now I will publish post number 10, kiss my sleeping kids and go to bed knowing that tomorrow will be a better day.

Well, I might go read your comments again, just to make myself feel a little better first.

It's a Brand New Day

I was going to title this:  No Heartbeat.  But I didn't want to make everyone immediately feel sorry for me.  That is NOT how I feel.  It is true, however, that the tiny baby in my belly does not have a heartbeat.  This was confirmed this morning at my 8.5 week ultrasound.  I say "confirmed" because I knew this was the case.  What I haven't been writing about here is that although I was tired and I had some general pregnancy symptoms, I was not sick.  And I just knew that this wasn't right.

When I was pregnant with Scott I was so ill by week 6 that I could barely get around.  Same thing with Jane.  And then this time, well, some funky appetite stuff, and initially I felt pretty awful, but then it stopped.  I never felt nauseous like I had in the past.

When I went in today, I told the ultrasound technician that I was concerned so she right away told me that the sack and embryo were there but that the fetus wasn't big enough for its age.  Then she searched and looked closer and tried to find a heartbeat, to no avail.

I am sad.

But I am not devastated.

In the waiting room there were very pregnant women, waiting for one test or another.  I could feel their anxiety.  I remembered coming to this same prenatal testing site every other day toward the end of my pregnancy with Scott.  The stress was unbelievable.  I absolutely hate being pregnant.  Not only because I feel like crap, but because there are so many unknowns, so many things you have no control over.

So I looked at those ladies and I reminded myself that I have two wonderful children already.  A boy who has stolen my heart and a girl who has reminded me how joyful life can be.

And I felt lucky.  So very fortunate for what I have.

Matt is on a train to Connecticut, hoping to find a job that will not require us to move.  His last day of work at his own company was yesterday.  He feels a little lost without a job.

I think we are finding our way, though.  Right back to where we were all along.

And in the spirit of moving forward, I am accepting the National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) challenge.  I know!  Me, who can barely post once a week is committing to posting every. day. this month.

Goals are good, though, so check back here daily.  I will be putting out some things I've been afraid to post.  Stuff I've already written and things I've been meaning to do.  By the end of the month you will be so sick of reading cute stories about my kids and about what I think about everything that you will probably never want to come back here again.

But I hope you do because I am grateful for your friendship.  This is what will help me.  The writing.  The community.  Like a ball rolling down hill, I will be gaining strength with each post.  If you have any ideas or suggestions for what to write about, tell me here or e-mail me.

Thanks for helping me and coming along.

I really am OK.  I promise.  I would never lie here.