My Big, Big Boy

At today's 18-month check up:

Weight: 30 lbs.
Height: 34 inches.

Wow. His height is (literally) off the chart for his age. The doctor said that as far as his physical development goes (walking, running, etc., etc.,) he is on par with most 2-year-olds. And it's true. He's so capable, and dexterous. He wants to do everything himself now. He can get in and out of his car seat by himself. He runs from me, to get me to play "chase" with him. He is a pro at climbing stairs. He "helps" to dress himself. We're even starting to use the potty (sometimes--we're introducing the concept--but we're not in full-time potty training mode yet). He wants to (and can) sit in a regular chair at the table. He wants to feed himself with the spoon and fork (and can, as long as Mom is okay with the mess). He's just such a Big Boy. And while my heart bursts with pride at how capable, handsome, and smart he is, there is a voice inside me screaming, "don't grow up so fast! Please stay my Baby Boy a little while longer!"

Laughter Is Good

If you need a good laugh--(and God knows I do)--visit this site. Someone sent me the link because he thought I'd find it interesting....and I am totally hooked. I've been laughing so hard my stomach hurts.

Warning, baby cakes on board. Yes, cakes, that look like babies. But, there's lots of other really weird, hilarious stuff.

http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/

Go get yourself a laugh.

Emotional

Hi. Sorry I have been away. The whole "living in the present moment" thing is good--but doesn't work so well with the blogging thing. Why? When I'm being active in blog land (and by active I mean reading and commenting, not just posting--cause goodness knows I've never been that prolific) my mind just wanders all over the place. I go into comparison mode. Sometimes I go into jealousy mode. And, instead of just living my moments, I am analyzing moments and composing blog posts in my head. So, I've been taking yet another break. Sorry guys.

But today I feel compelled to write, if just briefly. I am feeling particularly emotional. Like, I'm gonna cry at the drop of a hat (and have done.) Well, there was no actual hat dropping, but you get the meaning. Perhaps it has to do with the recent loss of a friend of mine. A friend whom I had just reconnected with after many years out of touch. A friend who found me again, and when we saw each other, it was as if not a day had passed. We were 16 again, and best friends. She looked beautiful as ever. Stunning, in fact. Despite the fact that she now had stage 4 breast cancer. She pooh-poohed her diagnosis and said she was doing very well. (And she looked great, so I believed her). But, she was lying. I didn't know it at the time. We made plans to get together again. Get the husbands together, etc., but plans fell through. My son got sick and I had to keep him home from daycare one time, another time, she had to go in for a treatment. Another time family came to visit unexpectedly, and so on. Our plans kept getting diverted. But we talked over email and phone. I didn't think much of it when I didn't hear from her for a couple of weeks. She said she was going on a short trip and would call me when she got back in to town. Instead, in the beginning of August, I received an email from her husband, saying, Sam had succumbed to her disease, and was gone....

I was shocked. I didn't know how to feel. I went on with work and with taking care of a toddler. I wrote back to ask about a service if there was to be one, and didn't get a response. I waited a few weeks. Then I emailed again, and finally, yesterday, I spoke to Sam's husband, and got every detail of her last days. They were not pretty. And I had no idea. And I wasn't there. And... Sam being Sam: Beautiful (and not a little bit vain, and proud, and stubborn), according to her husband did not tell ANY of their friends about her illness.

Just me.

So today we decided to go to church as a family for the first time since HM was born. We've been talking about it and talking about it and finally just said, let's do it.

I don't know if it was the familiar childhood memories of church and all that that conjures up, I don't know if I was feeling emotional being in the "presence of God" after so long, I don't know if it's because I've got a lot of anger at God that's been building up over the last 5 years or so, or if I am just experiencing REALLY BAD PMS, or, if I finally am starting to let out the grief of losing a friend. But I just couldn't hold back the tears. And still can't. It's like a flood gate has opened.

Still Don't Know What to Say, Except, Thank You.

Thank you, everyone for the outpouring of love and support. I can't tell you how much it has meant to me and how it was truly, viscerally, felt from over here. It was like a big, warm blanket of support being wrapped around me that no one else could see, but that I could feel. Bless you. Thank you, Mel, for making the call to circle the wagons. I am touched.

I don't have any ground breaking news to report on the topic of our "no more babies" dilemma. But, things have gotten better between Mister and myself since I wrote that last post. Maybe because I have been just somewhat numb over the whole thing. It's just too much to deal with in big chunks, so I am sort of breaking off pieces one at a time when I am mentally ready. And, lately, I've been so involved with work (I just survived my biggest event of the year this past Sunday--and I'm still recovering) that I have been able to avert my focus, to some degree.

I've been trying to look around corners, for the good things, the positive things, even seeking out any small sign of better times, or better luck on the horizon. Otherwise, I will go insane. Because, it does sort of seem like the bad luck (financially at least) just keeps flowing this way, and I am in a sort of state of disbelief and dismissiveness (is that a word?). I just sort of shrug my shoulders and say, "really?! Okay. Whatever..." Like the other day, when the latest bad news tidbit came rolling down on us: We found out that Baby Boy's health insurance (through Mister's new company) was not going to cost us around $80.00 per month as they had quoted, but $400.00. Whaaa???!! Yeah, seriously. At this point, though I could cry, (and do) I have to chuckle too. It's crazy. So, aside from trying to figure out what The Universe is trying to teach us with all of this crap, we are just plodding along. I wake up each day and just try to think about that. day. Not next week, next month, or next year. Because that's what starts the panic setting in. That's when the heart starts racing and the palms get sweaty. And I try not to go into the past, either. Like thinking about how long its actually been since we actually first threw out the birth control, or like how long it's been since I actually was pregnant that one time, or, what it felt like (briefly) to be pregnant, or....(the list goes on and on). If I start going down that road, the depression and the tears start. So, living in the present is my new challenge, and intention. And sometimes, it's hour to hour, or minute to minute. But, it is working (for now). Just don't ask me to start thinking about the future. I can't right now.

I have had several very vivid dreams recently about being in labor, being pregnant or breastfeeding. But I am trying not to read anything into it. It just is. Sometimes, I think to myself, "maybe in my next life?" And, that doesn't make me feel deliriously happy, but it doesn't throw me into depression either. It's a sort of neutral thought that I can handle right now.

I am trying to think about what other things I might like to do with my life. I mean, since my "perfect dream" has not come true, and so many of the things I thought I would have, be and do, have not really come to fruition, I am trying to think of what else I might want for myself--so that I might change my focus. I can't keep banging my head up against this brick wall of infertility. I am a mother. I love my son. He is awesome. And, on the good luck/bad luck scale, getting to be his mom is a huge weight on the lucky side of the scales. So, I have to remember that, thank my lucky stars, and move on. Mother to one, and one only? Not what I had planned, but...okay*. So what else do I want then? If not more children, what? Maybe being a mother to one means I will have more time in the coming years of my life to pursue something else that will become really important to me.

I just have to figure out what that is.

In the meantime, I am looking under the couch cushions for spare change, and looking through the fabric of my Reality for and kind of change.

*(I haven't 100% completely given up on the hope that it "might happen" for us one day, but I can't pin all my hopes on that anymore, either).