Is Horrible Violence the New Norm?

The crime in the city in which I live now is so much worse than it was where I came from.  Most of the crime from home was domestic assault and burglary.  I think on average, a pharmacy would get held up at least once a week by someone looking for prescription drugs.  You'd hear of gun violence, but it wasn't often and it certainly wasn't happening to people minding their own business, walking down the street or going about their daily lives.  Granted, I came from a place with some of the lowest violence stats in the nation. So, anywhere I moved to would feel dangerous.  But here, every day, there are horrible stories of violence. Murder is a common story on the evening news. Murder, always. Shootings, shootings and more shootings; hold ups, drive-by, walk-by, run-by... whatever you can do with a gun, it's happening here.  For a two week stretch, there were shootings every day and bodies turning up all over the place with gunshot wounds. Seemingly random, awful things were happening.  Some gang related, but some not. There was a day where three people were shot in one morning, within a three hour time frame. Then there are the stranglings, the missing women feared dead, the bodies that occasionally float up to the surface of some river or bog.  Oh, don't for get the machete attacks, or just regular knife attacks.  The car jackings.  Hmmm what am I forgetting?  Oh yes, my personal favorite, the home invasions. I'm certain there are other horrible things that I can't recall; or subconsciously choose not to.What the hell is going on here? How do people become such animals where they are capable of such behavior?  Of taking someone else's life?  Of hurting another so viciously?  There is no regard for the life of another!  How can that be?

Life- it's such a gift, such a precious thing.  The loves we have worked so hard at and cultivated to near perfection.  The routines of our lives so comfortable and familiar. The careers we've worked so hard at, the families we've raised, the weddings, birthdays, holidays... hell, EVERYDAY that we are given.  Such a GIFT!  Such a gift.  And to have it taken by the horrible and selfish act of another?  Well, I just can't even begin to comprehend it.  The stakes are so high the impact so deep.  I can't comprehend it.

I think about my family's safety a lot, as well as my own.   The odds of us being victims of a crime are greater now than they used to be. It scares the shit out of me.

Lighthouses and Mud Flats

My life is so foreign to me, lately.  What I thought it might be is not at all what it is.  That's not a bad thing; it just "is".  Our daughter is now 18 mos.  Our miracle baby.  Full of fire and life and energy and chutzpah. She yells and cries and laughs and runs and plays and melts my heart every day.  We moved 18 hours away from our families to begin a new life in new state, in a strange city.  As the excitement of the "new" fades a little, the separation from all that was familiar starts to ache.  I miss my family and my work friends. Very much. And though I don't miss many things about where I came from, I miss the smell of the ocean.  I do.  And even one or two of those unwelcomed cold misty days in the summer where shorts and a t shirt aren't an option and you curse the weather gods for giving you such shit weather in July.  I am finding my new home very enjoyable. So many good things about it.  But by leaving, I now realize that my soul is made up of the salt water that laps the shores, the fog horns that blow at night; which I could hear from my house, the Italian sandwiches with extra tart pickles from Amato's, the smell of the crunchy leaves being raked into bags in the fall, the taste of fresh sweet summer lobster, the drive from my house to my Mom's house that I have made thousands of time, the smell of her kitchen and the sound of her wind chimes. The image of her always waving from her front porch as I drove away after a visit. It's part of my DNA, my genetic makeup.  I can't change it any easier than I can change my green eyes or left handedness. It's what I know and who I am.  I am a stranger in a new land now.  A transplant. All the tastes and smells and sounds of this place are new to me. Admittedly, it's a wonderful feeling to have my senses awakened again by a new world.  And yet, it makes me long for what I knew so well.

I understand now, why people move away and then find their way back eventually.  It's because their soul needs the salt air to survive; whether they like it or not.  It's because they long to hear that horrible accent again and use the word "wicked" among others who use it, too.  And not only use it, but use it correctly.  It's not their choice. They have no choice.  It's who they are.  And though you can move elsewhere, it's always gonna call to you. Perhaps only in the smallest way in the deepest corner of your heart.  But, it will always call out to you and beckon you home.

36 1/2 Weeks

Here I am, at the end of November, still pregnant and going strong at 36 1/2 weeks.  We found out we're having a baby girl, despite my knowing that it was a boy.  I was wrong wrong.  We couldn't be happier that another baby girl will come into our lives. 

It's been a long pregnancy filled with progesterone shots, urine tests, blood tests, ultrasounds and lots of cervical and muscular aches and pains.  It's hard to believe we're so close to the end and we've had no major issues to date.  My cerclage gets removed this Friday, which I'm terrified about.  I have had a significant amount of discomfort in that area throughout the entire pregnancy so I worry the removal will be very painful.  After it's out, it's sit and wait.  We could have a baby next week or we could have one more towards late December.  We'll see.  I think it might be sooner than later. She's a big girl.  We'll find out on Friday how big she is, but two weeks ago she was  6lbs, 4oz.  I would imagine by now she's well into 7lbs. 

I'm nervous about the labor and delivery.  My husband keeps reminding me that I've done it all before, but it was different then.  Avery was so small and the entire thing was horribly traumatic and awful.  I just hope that this is a more positive and supportive experience than last.  Last time the nurse only came in AFTER I had delivered her.  She didn't check on me much.  I actually had to ask her what I should do and how I'd know when to push. She was no help at all and I'm pissed about the lack of care we received that night. Now, I hope for more hands on support from the nursing staff.  I think we were discarded last time because we all knew Avery wasn't going to survive, so they kind of forgot about me.  How horrific that was. Praying for a different experience.

So, the nursery is all set.  We have a dresser full of jammies and soft clothes.  We're so ready for this sweet baby girl to come into our lives.  I still have a lot of fears because I know anything can happen between NOW and holding her safely in my arms.  I just want to make it, and I try to believe that we will. My husband has been a saint throughout this entire thing; taking on so many extra chores and tasks and putting up with my mood swings, unexpected crying and my obsessive worry.  An amazing man, indeed.

Fingers crossed.

Life is a Mystery

I don't know if anyone reads this blog of mine.  Especially where it's been 6 months since I've written anything at all. So, seeing as how I have no followers and nobody really reads this thing, I feel safe in sharing my secret.  I'm 16 weeks pregnant!  I still can't really believe that it's true, but it is.  I switched to a new Dr. at the end of last year and she started me down a path of health, wellness and fertility.  It hasn't been easy or perfect.  In order to even get pregnant, we had to have help in the form of fertility drugs and IUI. But, the important part is that we're here.  We were given another chance and for that, I'm eternally grateful.  We want this so very badly and had truly believed that we may never get here again.

Here's where things stand, currently...  I had surgery at week 13, a cerclage, to help keep my cervix closed as that was the reason as to why we lost our daughter at 21 weeks.  My cervix was weak and had started to dilate way too early.  The surgery was very unpleasant, but it went well and my Dr. was very happy with how things went.  I don't have any restrictions in my activity, though I feel a bit fragile and tend to take it easy anyway.  She doesn't foresee any bed rest in my future, which is a MIRACLE.  Perhaps some as I approach the end, but not throughout.  I have weekly ultrasounds to check the cerclage and the length of my cervix.  So far, so good... no problems at all.  I will have weekly ultrasounds until week 24, at which time they'll decided if I need to continue with that.  I have weekly progesterone shots (which KILL), to help with uterine health throughout the duration.  I'll have those until week 36.  Also at week 36, they'll remove my cerclage and we'll wait to go into labor.  It could happen at any time once the cerclage is removed.  My Dr. is keeping a very close eye on me and I'm so grateful to be in such capable and knowledgeable hands. 

My official due date is December 23rd, but I don't think I'm going to make it that long. I'm thinking maybe December 17th or so.  But, what do I know?  We are going to find out what we're having, but won't know until August 3rd when I'm 20 weeks.  I'm convinced we're having a boy.  I KNEW in my heart and soul that I was having a girl last time.  I didn't know how I knew, but I did.  This time, I have the same knowing.  I'll be shocked if I'm wrong. 

I'm just now allowing myself to be excited about all of this, and will be even more so once we pass some important date milestones.  The first one will be 21 weeks, which was when I lost my daughter.  The second will be 28 weeks, when babies who are born early can still survive - although often with serious issues.  After that, it's sit and wait for the baby to get bigger and stronger.  I have felt a lot of emotions over the past few months.  Being pregnant has been terrifying, because I know how horrific it is when you lose a baby.  I'm terrified of it happening again.  There's a part of me that doesn't believe that we're going to make it because all we know is sadness and loss when it comes to this stuff.  I've been missing Avery, as I remember seeing her on the ultrasound, hearing her heartbeat, feeling her inside of me, our sad time together in the hospital, her delivery and then saying goodbye.  It comes back in waves, all so fresh. It makes me miss her so much.  I pray for a healthy baby, born late in December. Avery was born December 27th, so the timing of this is a little odd.

 I know anything can happen at any time.  We're taking one day at a time and thinking positive thoughts for a positive outcome.  Fingers crossed that in December we'll be holding a healthy baby.  Fingers crossed.

Nearly A Year Later

It's been nearly a year since we lost our daughter.  It'll be a year on December 27th, and we are not even one step closer in being pregnant again. The last 10 months have brought an onslought of one fertility issue after another.  What was so close and within our grasp is gone and we can't seem to get back there.  I can't go into the details at this time of what we're facing.  But all I want to say is this...  my husband is so sad today, feeling like everyone around him is moving forward with their lives and families and we are stuck in reverse.  He is anxious that we will never have again what we came so close to having before. When he's this way I feel so guilty... even more guilty than I normally feel.  The fertility problems are all MY problems.  There's nothing wrong with him so his pain, his anguish, his anxiety and sadness is caused by me.  We just celebrated our 1 year anniversary and today, right now, I wish he would leave me to find a woman who could give him what he so deserves.  He shouldn't stay with me.  He should put himself through this any longer.  He deserves better than this... than me.

Blindsided by a Self Important Bitch

My husband and I have not been very social since we lost our daughter.  Neither one of us has had much interest in spending time with people.  At first, the anxiety of being with others manifested physically- I would feel anxious, nervous, do my best to hold back tears. I was dealing with some pretty severe post traumatic stress and I couldn't even fake a smile if I wanted to. It almost felt painful; the amount of effort it took to engage in conversation or find laughter and pleasure in things that seemed so trite.  Over time, I'm amazed to realize that we have gotten stronger and the desire to be with others has returned... to a degree.  I'm a lone wolf, by nature.  I don't particularly prefer the company of others to solitude.  But, I do find genuine joy being with friends... something I didn't feel early on.

So that brings me to last night.... FUCKING LAST NIGHT.  I have been feeling particularly tired lately.  That's usually a sign of PMS for me which could have contributed to my sensitivity last night.  Not only the PMS but also the realization that we, once again, are NOT pregnant this month since I'm experiencing those symptoms at all.  But anyway, we decided to go to Freeport to have dinner and a beer with some friends. Friends we hadn't seen since February. Friends who came to see me in the hospital when I was holding on to Avery for dear life. Friends who brought magazines, books and tokens of their love.  Good people.  Kind people.  People I feel safe with.  When I show up, they are at a picnic table outside on the deck. I walk up to the table and hug our friends and then I'm introduced to the husband's sister. She exuberantly greets me and says, "I feel like I need to give you a hug".  Which is my first signal that she knows too much about my life and my personal business and feels way more "connected" to me in some way, than I to her.  So, I reluctantly accept her hug and sit down.  She immediately makes me nervous with the way she's staring at me and I wonder what conversation took place prior to my showing up. I don't like being the topic of conversation- it makes me terribly uneasy. I very quickly feel like perhaps this was a bad idea. Small talk ensues; about how the summer is going, how their kids are doing.  It's nice to see their faces again but I can tell they are searching for things to talk about that don't bring us to an uncomfortable place.  Which ends up making me uncomfortable, anyway. So we order our beer and our meals.  After about 30 minutes there is a lull in the conversation and the sister, very loudly, turns to me while I'm eating my salad and says, "I have been on EVERY fertility treatment out there and I know what it's like and what you're going through so if you have ANY questions at all, just ask!"  I stare at her, completely caught off guard, dumbfounded and mortified that this drunk stranger has come at me like this out of nowhere.  She's staring at me, as if she's expecting some kind of sigh of relief from me or gratefulness to pour out of me. Just staring excitedly and bracing herself for the slew of questions she is sure I'm about to unleash.  I suddenly feel so completely exposed and naked. It takes ALL I can muster to say, "Thank you, I appreciate that."  She continues to sit there, silent... waiting on me.  I mumble something about how this is unknown territory for us so we're learning our way through it. She then cuts me off and continues to talk about the adoption of her now 4 and 8 year old kids and how EASY it was and how EASY they are.  She must have said they are SO EASY about a dozen times. The topic of adoption interests me of course, so I put my embarrassment and anger aside long enough to ask her about how that experience was for her.  And as she talks on about her experience I realize that nothing she says will be of any help or comfort to me whatsoever because she is the kind of person who loves to hear herself speak and the path her words are taking her are more for her than to actually help someone else. She is self important and egocentric.  She is the type of person I hate the very most... and that is when I shut down and stop listening.  After she's satisfied with hearing herself talk, she stops and like a cat distracted by something shiny she takes off to talk to someone else.  I am left at the table with the our friend (the wife) and my husband (the sister's brother, our friend- the husband, was away from the table and missed the entire thing).  The wife looks at me, tears in her eyes and says, "I'm so sorry... I feel like you were blindsided."  I tell her that yes, I was, and that it's not her fault and I'll get through it.  But, I already know that I won't. I already know that at some point in the evening I will be reduced to tears by this bullish woman and my experience with her.  That fact makes me even angrier- that she... a nobody... will have had that effect on me.  I realize, at that point, that I am a ticking time bomb and if anything else happens I'm not going to be able to take it. Everyone rejoins the table and I try my best- that's what I always fucking do... try my best to not draw attention to myself in my grief. But, at every turn, she brings up kids.  We are outside at the table and there are a SLEW of children around and I mean, everywhere.  Pregnant women apparently flock to this damn place too...everywhere.  In essence, she asks everyone- EVERYONE- who comes over if they have kids. Like it's her fucking job. And with whatever their response is, she then sees that as her opening to talk about her kids and about how EASY they are and how they've changed her life and how she couldn't imagine a life without them. A guy makes his way over to talk for a bit because he knows our friend. She asks the question and he starts talking in detail about his wife being pregnant with twins and feeling them move when he touched her belly.  On and on and she keeps asking more and more about it, like she is purposely torturing me.  I excuse myself from the table and walk to the front of the building, trying to contemplate my next move. Do I simply leave?  Do I pull it together and continue on with this garish woman? I go to the restroom and wash my hands and decide to go back, seeing as how my husband is still there.  When I come back, two men have sat down where I was sitting so they make room for me next to my husband.  And after 2 minutes, she starts talking about her kids and asking if the two men have kids of their own.  "They're so EASY... I couldnt' live without them... they're so EASY", she says. And when the guy starts talking about how kids drive him nuts and how he's not a kid person and they're so messy and smelly I reach my breaking point.  I look at my husband and say, "I have to go", and he understands.  I hug our friends goodbye and as I'm hugging the wife, that fucking cunt sister is yelling over to me to get her email address from the wife so we can communicate via email and she can share her fertility and adoption experiences with me.  I ignore her and walk away. Go to my car and cry a bit and wait for my husband to join me.  I've officially added yet another person to the list of people I hate.  And I do mean HATE.

I hate feeling attacked, and without control. Last night could not have been more of a nightmare. Even today, as I write about it, I want to find that woman and rip her face off.  Apparently after I left, she asked if I was ok and my husband said I was not.  She then said, "I know all about it... fertility issues are so hard."  And him, being the wonderful man he is said, "It's not the fertility issue.  It's the fact that we should  have a 2 month old right now but instead she's in an urn on our mantel and we look at that urn day and night and miss her."   That seemed to shut that bitch up.

One Good Thing Happened

I got the job, I got the job... I start the job on 8/15!  I'm beyond grateful and relieved. I'm moving away from 13 years in telecom and venturing out into a new endeavor.  Ready for this... wait for it... the anticipation is driving you mad, I know... INSURANCE.  I know!  I know... it's beyond thrilling.  Okay, maybe it's not thrilling.  But it's not telecom and it pays ok and it's with a very strong company who offers awesome benefits and I get to start off with 2 weeks more vacation time than what I have now.  How can that not be great?  So, yeah.. something good happened and it feels so so so great!  Sometimes I can convince myself that we are cursed, in light of the horrible things that have befallen us in this past year. So, in some goofy way I feel like this is a sign that we aren't cursed and that perhaps more good things can come our way.  The tiniest smidgen of hope has trickled back into my soul.