Goodbye and Good Riddance

WARNING: This post is about sensitive lady part stuff. If you are easily grossed out or would rather read about kittens or puppies, this post is not for you. However if you do find a good puppy or kitten blog, please send it to me as I love both.

So on October 28th, 2021 barring the apocalypse, I will be saying goodbye to my uterus and potentially my lady balls (ovaries). They are being removed because after multiple years of painful endometriosis and adenomyosis, bathtubs full of blood for weeks at a time (one time my husband walked in and almost passed out), going through enough menstrual pads and tampons to supply the entire continent four times over, a doctor has FINALLY heard my cries for help and is taking the evil thing out.

You would think I would be happy and overjoyed. And part of me is. But a teeny tiny smaller part of me is crushed and grieving. I always wanted to have my own kids in the traditional way. But due to multiple problems (see above) and just financial struggles it has never happened. And now, after this surgery, it will be physically impossible to happen. I know I am too old and too fat to have a normal pregnancy not to mention being on a lot of medications for physical and mental health problems. But still…

My one cousin had twins about 2 years ago. Her sister is currently pregnant with her own twins and has a three year old. It was supposed to be triplets but that is a heartbreaking story unto itself. My other cousin has 4 children and her brother has a 2 year old and his wife is pregnant. My oldest cousin on that side has a son who is going to be I think 6 this year. Then if you move to the other side of the family there are more cousins with more children. 99% of my friends have children.

For years I endured questions about when we were going to have kids, were we trying, when was it going to be our turn. Well none of your business nosy Nancy. Leave us alone. Please don’t pressure women into having babies. If they can’t, it’s a painful question and even if they can, maybe they are not ready. Things don’t always just magically work out like the movies. If they did I would be skinny, a church leader, and a professional author with two kids and a golden retriever and my house would be paid off by now.

I work with children every day through work and I love it. I enjoy interacting with my nieces and nephews (when I get to see them) but except for my husband’s sister’s kids and my brother’s daughter I don’t get to see many of the kids because I am not in “the circle of safe people” for most of my friends and family. Anyway, my point is that working with kids and seeing kids, even weekly, is not the same as living with them, snuggling them and protecting them from the world. Other kids can like you and enjoy spending time with you, but when they get hurt, they will call for their favorite parent or caregiver every single time (as they should).

A lot of people have made me feel as if I was a failure because I did not have children and that hurts. I feel like I got left out of some special women’s club that includes all the moms out there and that also hurts. And now I know I will never be in that club.

People have told me to adopt or engage in foster care but our state has placed a hold on training new foster parents and adoption is ridiculously expensive (a child would cost more than my current mortgage on my home).

So in exactly 3 weeks I will lose what supposedly makes a woman unique and special. But my husband reminds me that I am special to him. And he hugs me and holds me when I cry about this and then he makes me laugh because he always can and I am supremely grateful for this.

So I just want to say to all the women who have lost babies, can’t have babies, don’t want to have babies, you are still important and special. Having babies is not our soul purpose of existence. I am trying to believe this for myself and I hope you do too.

Hugs for all ❤

I’ve Become So Numb

My Pop-Pop passed away on Sunday, December 8th. He was not my bio grandfather but he was the only grandfather I knew on that side of the family. My bio grandfather died when I was two years old. He looks like he was a nice gent. But my Pop-Pop I grew up with was a spitfire. He could make you laugh and ten minutes later make you cry. My grandmother married him when I was 8 years old and I remember him wearing a sombrero and starting a conga line all around the bar they were having the reception at. He always had a joke for you or a sarcastic comment.

He has not been doing well in the last couple of years and has kind of been a cantankerous brat to my grandmother. He made it to 98 so I guess I have to give him a break for that. It’s just weird that he’s gone. The funeral is on Wednesday this week and I don’t really know why I’m not sad. Maybe because he was suffering so much and causing my grandmother so much heartache? I just feel numb. Like okay this is one more thing we have to get through before this year is over.

Add all of that to my job and the crying, screaming, meltdowns galore, and being on call this week as well. I am literally crawling over the finish line of this year. But I am going to finish and so are you. My Pop-Pop has a new glorious body that isn’t aching, breaking, or taking the life out of him so that’s something to celebrate.

Sorry for the randomness here. Tired and just needed to get some thoughts out.

poppop

This is my Pop-Pop and Grandmom at my wedding in 2010. Aren’t they adorable?!

The Last Words You Ever Want To Hear

“There’s nothing more we can do.”

These to me are the worst words you can hear from a doctor when you love someone.

They said them to my mom when they called to tell her my father passed away from a heart attack.

They say them in countless hospitals in countless places countless times a day. I can’t imagine having to say those words to someone. I can’t imagine seeing faces filled with hope when you walk in the room and then seeing the light in someone’s eyes as you destroy it faster then a boot can kill and ant.

Today these words were spoken to my cousins about their mother. My Aunt Marie was the most favorite of my aunts because she was so kind and loving. She always made me feel special and loved. She had my wedding shower at her home so both my mother in law and my mom could invite all the people they wanted. My cousins already lost their father and now they are losing their mother. Their kids will not get to know my aunt the way I did or her kids did. They will never hear her great stories or taste her home made pierogies (although my cousins make them well so maybe they will get to taste them after all).

I am so mad at God right now I could spit. I don’t deny His existence but right now I wish he would end mine. I’m tired of losing family. In a few days I will lose my aunt. My cousins will lose a mother, and four grandchildren will lose their grandmother. Where is the righteousness in that?!

Aunt Marie and Family

My Aunt Marie is the third one in from the right. This is her with my cousins Kim, Steph, and Peter and their husbands, wife, and grandchildren. WHY?! Why God Why?!

Death Can Be Brutal and a Blessing

On March 21st I woke up and got ready for work. As I was getting ready to get in my car my mother in law (who lives around the corner from my husband and I) asked me to check on my father in law who was not feeling well. She said if he seemed really bad to call 911 and have him taken to the hospital.

My father in law’s health has been declining for some time, but he has been really bad the last month or so. He had a stroke 26 years ago and has not been the same since. He also has had a myriad of other health problems including COPD which is from smoking like a chimney and also working on the smoke stacks on the ships while in the Navy. But the thing is, no matter how bad, this man always bounces back. Maybe not as strong, but he always somehow manages to do it.

So here goes me thinking I’ll be in and out and on my merry way to another boring staff meeting where they drone on about stupid stuff and we all nod and smile as a day is wasted talking about stuff that could just as easily be sent in an email.

I never made it to the damn meeting.

I came in the house shouting my father in law’s name and asking how he was feeling. I think subconsciously when I first glimpsed him sitting on the couch I knew because I froze, calling his name a few more times. He did not greet me with his usual “same shit different day” when I asked how he was feeling. He did not move, he did not respond, and he had no pulse.

So I called 911 for help. They told me to get him on the floor and do CPR. I got him on the floor but on his side and could not move him to his back. Dark red blood oozed out of his mouth and that was when I started hyperventilating and freaking the hell out for real. The 911 person told me to go get a neighbor so I pounded on my neighbor’s door like a madwoman and begged him to come help me move my father in law.  He came and then the paramedics came and I was doing CPR and then they took over and told me to give them a minute and leave the room.

Five minutes later they told me he was gone.

My husband was asleep and did not pick up his phone after 10 tries. I called my mother in law at work and told her to come home. She asked why and I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t want to be the one. She said she’d be home in 20 minutes. My husband and her showed up about 45 minutes later. I didn’t know what to do. There were police, ambulances, coroners, medical examiners, and a host of other people in the house. The undertakers from the local funeral home came about an hour later. We had to go to the funeral home a couple of hours after that.

I had to sit and listen to the police tell my mother in law and my husband what happened. I watched as they cried and held each other. I listened as my mother in law called my husband’s brother and sister and told them. There was screaming, crying, and plans made.

And now we are here. Ten days later and it all feels like it happened two seconds ago. The funeral was nice and he was buried in a veterans cemetery. There was a 21 gun salute which was a little frightening. My husband and his brother each received one of the shells. After the service we went to my sister in law’s house where there was more food then a hundred people could eat. People came and went. Some of my husband’s friends came. None of mine did mostly because it was a work day.

I remember feeling very sad when my parents died. I cried for weeks and months and eventually it became easier to breathe. But with my father in law I don’t feel sad so much as happy for him. He was stuck in a body that would not allow him to do all the things he wanted to do. He couldn’t use his right arm at all and his right leg just kind of dragged because it was painful for him to walk since he had broken his leg several months ago.

I bet the first thing he did was dance, jump and leap when his soul left his damaged body. Then he probably asked God to give him some projects to do because he was very good with his hands.

Can you imagine being stuck in a body that does not allow you to do the most basic things like holding something in both hands. To have to use a cane that further limits you because now you can’t even hold a cup in the good hand? To be constantly depressed because you see how hard your wife works and you can’t do anything to help her?

My father in law could be downright mean and cruel at times because the part of the brain that tells you “don’t say that” was damaged so he kind of just said whatever he wanted to. But underneath all the brashness and the sarcasm was a man who loved his family deeply. Heck he even allowed me to use power tools and taught me how to hang a picture on the wall and make sure it was level.

I will miss my father in law, but I am glad he’s free.

Save A Place For Me By Matthew West

It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye

This week has ended on the worst note possible. This morning I found out one of my friends passed away. Same age as me, only 36. I am not really sure of the details of his death at this point as nobody is really sharing anything, as is their right.

I can’t even begin to describe what a sweet, kind, caring soul this man was. He had a heart of gold and was always trying to make people laugh because his true passions laid in comedy and singing. He loved Boyz To Men and sang their songs like an angel. We were never super close but I knew him well enough to know the world is a little less bright now without him. He came to my New Year’s Eve party two years ago. We had not seen each other in awhile so I was super happy when he decided to come at the last minute. He had moved to Wisconsin recently to be with his family but I always assumed that he would be back when he got some things straightened out.

Lately I have been feeling a lot of anxiety about my mortality. I lost a friend a month ago who was just a little bit younger then me and now my other friend. A third friend has cancer and I don’t understand what is going on. I am 36 and my husband 39. We should not be losing friends at this age. That should be reserved for our 90’s.

Please hug your family and friends close tonight. Let them know how much you care and how precious they are to you, for tomorrow is not promised. RIP my sweet friend. I am glad you are no longer in any pain and can share your voice with the heavenly choir.

The picture of my friend below was created by Angela Capel. I take no credit for it because I can barely draw stick figures.

Royal Scott