The things I don’t say…

Facebook is the devil. Seriously.

I was at a small party last night and a broad who I already hate was of course there too. (Btw, girls I dislike I call broads. I’m from New York. It’s what I do.) Like always. She’s best friends with Mr. Big’s best friend’s girlfriend. In other words, I have to see her a lot. She made out with a married man at a party, and smirked about it for the rest of the night. Not Mr. Big. But a friend of ours. This is the biggest reason I hate her, but she’s always rubbed me the wrong way.

Anyways. She was there.

She started some story about someone she knew who had 5 miscarriages and got pregnant and announced on Facebook while it was very early on. Then miscarried, and had to sadly announce it as well. It was this broad’s opinion that it should be kept off of Facebook until they were sure the baby would survive. Let me first say she’s entitled to her opinion. We all are.

I simply rolled my eyes and looked away, tight lipped. What did I want to say?

Good for her! Just so you know, after 5 damn miscarriages this woman knows a hell of a lot more than you how short her baby’s life may or may not be. Believe me she’s all too aware that any moment the blood and pain can come. Her happiness can end. Knowing that, fearing that, she’s brave enough to hold onto the hope that it’ll be different.

Maybe her fear is so consuming that this remaining positive act is just an act to keep her mind off of the fear. Maybe she’s actually celebrating! I sure as hell would celebrate. I would savor every moment of every future pregnancy I have. If I get that lucky.

Should she censor herself to make you feel better? Because her loss makes YOU uncomfortable? Hell no. Newsflash, it’s her damn Facebook page. Her space. She can put whatever the hell she wants on it. If you don’t like something, hide it. Unfollow her. Deal with it!

Now if/when I get pregnant I will not be announcing on Facebook. At all. I will not be posting bump pics every damn day. Nothing. That’s my personal choice. There are a lot of reasons behind it. Those who I’m friends with do that and I unfollow them. Simple. Easy. But if people want to celebrate on facebook that’s their prerogative. Don’t let someone tell you that you should/shouldn’t. Do what you need to for you.

“To yourself be true.”

This goes for the rest of the internet and blogosphere too. People’s blogs and sites are their own. They can post whatever the hell they want. However they feel. Even if it offends you or your mom. If you can’t handle being offended, even in a space or forum that’s supposed to be supportive, then you shouldn’t be online. There’s always that one person who ruins it for everyone else.

Now I’m not saying it’s right to offend people, even accidentally. It’s not right to be a troll. But those of us who know better, who are better, can rise above. You don’t need to start or continue a fight.

You don’t need to attend every battle you’re invited to.

If someone personally calls you out, you can delete comments or posts. You can block and unfollow and hide things. You don’t even need to explain why. Unless you’re consistently being harassed and stalked, it’s easy to rise above and get over it.

No one is forcing you to comment or post or like. You’re not a puppet.

So many girls, or broads as I call them, seem to need drama in their lives. All. The. Time. I wish we could lock them in their own universe. It’s so much happier and more peaceful and calm without the bull shit. Don’t we all have enough to deal with?

We all have something that digs at us.

These are the words I don’t speak. The things I’m hesitant to even post. Of course I have thoughts, opinions and judgements. I’m human. But I don’t need to add stress into my life.

I don’t need to tell the broad at the party that she’s an ignorant gossiping whore.
Even if it’s true.

How much do you not say?

Beam Me Up

I just found out that Pink’s song ‘Beam Me Up’ is about a miscarriage. This is probably old news. But I thought I’d share in case I’m not the only one living under a rock.

“There’s a whole ‘nother conversation going on
In a parallel universe.
Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts.
There’s a waltz playin’ frozen in time
Blades of grass on tiny bare feet
I look at you and you’re lookin’ at me.

Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter,
I think a minute’s enough,
Just beam me up.

Saw a blackbird soarin’ in the sky,
Barely a breath I caught one last sight
Tell me that was you sayin’ goodbye,
There are times I feel the shiver and cold,
It only happens when I’m on my own,
That’s how you tell me I’m not alone

Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter,
I think a minute’s enough,
Just beam me up.

In my head I see your baby blues
I hear your voice and I, I break in two and now there’s
One of me, with you

So when I need you can I send you a sign
I’ll burn a candle and turn off the lights
I’ll pick a star and watch you shine

Just beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter,
I think, a minute’s enough,
Beam me up
Beam me up
Beam me up
Could you beam me up.”
-Pink

Whole Damn Year

I heard this song on my way to work this evening. Whole Damn Year by Mary J. Blige. Certain parts of the lyrics sum up my whole damn year.

“And yes, I’m good on the surface,
but I’m a mess, I’m a mess underneath
See winter took the most of my heart
The spring punched right in the stomach,
Summer came looking for blood,
And by autumn, I was left with nothing!”

Winter, I was struggling with depression and fixing issues in my marriage. Heart.

Spring, I found out I was pregnant, and it was ectopic. Stomach.

Summer, my tube ruptured and the pregnancy was removed. Blood.

Autumn, my body is emptier and not functioning. I have no baby, and no chance of having one at the present moment. Nothing.

Whole. Damn. Year.

Skunked Again.

You just know how your day is going to go when you wake up early choking on the smell of skunk.

Like a skunk was on the bed cuddling with me. The entire house, skunked. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. I’m seriously wondering if the skunk sprays our air conditioner outside. There’s just no reason it would infiltrate the house that badly. And it lingers still. I don’t even smell it outside.

In other non-news I’ve given up on ovulating. It’s cd 21 today. I know it’s entirely possible I could ovulate within the next week, but the odds are kind of against me. May the odds be ever not in my favor apparently.

My doctor basically said if I’m not pregnant and not bleeding (so in other words not ovulating) by cd 28 to call her. Waiting until cd 28 is the hard part. If my body’s not going to do this on it’s own then I’d like to waste no more time. My clock is ticking after that HSG. My clock is ticking anyways.

Do you feel like there’s a clock floating next to your head wherever you go that only you can see and hear? It grows louder each time someone announces a pregnancy…

Coping when you don’t believe in god.

*If you are religious, this post is not for you. It shouldn’t be offensive (my intent is never malicious), but it is meant for people who do not believe in organized religion.*

As I mentioned before I am not religious. I was raised catholic. My dad was catholic. My mom is a born again Christian. I had to go through all the hoops and bible school (or get my butt whooped), but I never really believed.

I am able to appreciate the “I’m praying for you” and understand where people are coming from and what they are trying to say. But it offers little or no comfort. It sometimes crosses boundaries and adds more stress to my life, especially when it comes to my mother. Her response shortly after my ectopic surgery was that she had a grand baby in heaven with god. Obviously, that conversation ended there.

I stumbled across this article today called “Coping with your child’s death when you don’t believe in god.” It is the first thing of its kind that I’ve read post ectopic that I really agree with. I could have written most of it. So I’m putting it out here for any of you that share my beliefs, or lack there of.

I also want to thank this community for respecting boundaries. I know a lot of people here are religious. I have not felt like I’ve had someone else’s religion shoved down my throat. I have not been offended. I hopefully have not managed to offend anyone else. This place is very healing and open, which is unlike most places on the internet. I respect all of you deeply.

Admit it, you’ve changed.

image

But that’s not a bad thing. We change into stronger versions of our former selves. Skin grows thicker. It takes a longer blade to make us bleed now. Innocence, gone. Torn from us. Will we ever get that naive, doe-eyed look back? No. Will we be able to take a breath without a twinge of fear? No. We will never be ignorant again. Jaded as we are, a weaker person couldn’t survive where we traveled. This is who we are now.

Moving On

Warning: This may make you cry and/or sad. Do not watch this if you’re not prepared to cry.

Maybe it won’t make you cry, but my DH (I’m calling him Mr.Big from now on because that’s his nickname) and I cried like babies when we watched this. I was pregnant at the time. Watching it again now, so very not pregnant, I still cry. Maybe I’m just a crybaby now.

Below is a short about moving on. It involves yarn and child loss and new birth. I’m sorry if you watch it and it makes you cry or makes you sad. Or angry. I don’t even know why I like it so much. It’s awful and beautiful.

Moving On: A Stop-motion Music Video for ‘James’ Made with Yarn by Ainslie Henderson

Beautiful for grieving mothers.

A friend of mine shares beautiful things on child loss from time to time. Here is a link to one she shared. A service that aims to ease mother’s pain after losing a baby. From just 5 weeks in utero to newborns. The article is “The Unexpected Gift That Helped A Grieving Mother Face The World Again.”

Here is a heart to hold’s website.

❤ I had to share. ❤