Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Spa Day

Spa day is actually a really REALLY nice way of saying I had my yearly OB appointment. It sort of felt like a day away since I got to go all by myself and put on a robe aka gown. I have also referred to it as a "mile maintenance" like you get for your car. Since I'm 29, maybe it was my 29,000 mile maintenance. My sister calls it her "love" appointment. What do you call it?

Going to the OB or even just the office is a mixed bag of emotions for me. I've spent SO much time there. It's very familiar. It holds some of my happiest moments and some very very sad ones. I heard both of my babies heartbeats there for the first time, I found out my dream of having a girl would be a reality there, I met the doctor that would walk through hell with us and a team of medical staff I owe the little sanity I have to. It's like home there and yet, it gives me anxiety. Going there means there WILL be other pregnant ladies and those things are still hard for me. It means embracing all those feelings and walking down a very sad memory lane. 

January has been a good month. No tears and feeling very light hearted, but my drive to the OB made me feel a bit sick. Seeing my "peeps" felt great and talking with them was even better, but also hard. 

My OB had a heart to heart with me and I was not expecting it...I mean I was, but I also was not. He asked some hard questions. Hard questions for me, ones I usually shy away from answering. His first question was if Brian and I had started to think about growing our family. I immediately burst into tears. Brian and I discussed that we would wait until Mason was two (3 more months) to have that conversation, but of course it's something that is on my mind every single day. 

I'm so torn because I don't feel done, but I also don't feel anywhere near ready to walk down this road again. 

He asked if I needed a living sibling for M. The answer is yes.

He asked if adoption was an option (he has an adopted child so it's not like a "why don't you JUST adopt" question) he knows how big and scary adoption is in itself. My answer was no. The funny thing is that in high school I talked seriously about my desire to adopt one day. I even knew which country I wanted to adopt from. After everything we have been through, knowing a little about adoption and its uncertainties, I can say that does not seem like a road I am willing to go down. 

We talked for a long time, much longer than I expected and I cried the whole time. We talked about my fear of pregnancy, my fear that Mason may or may not get a living sibling, my fears about never having a living daughter, my jealousy and anger over other people getting to have their "whole families", daughters, fearless pregnancies etc. 

We talked about what a hard infant Mason was and how that was not a happy time for me. He even said that I needed to do this again to have a pleasant newborn experience because I deserve it, but we all know that deserving things doesn't mean shit. Plus at the end of the day, I feel like Mason being alive is all I was really allowed to wish for. 

I could tell he wanted to promise me that another pregnancy would end in a happy healthy baby and mama. I could tell that he wanted to "fix" me and make me better, I could tell that each tear of mine was killing him, but nothing he could say fixes this. Nothing brings Addison back and anything else will never be enough. 

We talked about Addison and said her name. She is a person to us both and that is validating. It's not enough, but it was nice. 

I think he was surprised to see how much I am still grieving. He gets it, but he doesn't. He tries, but all his children are all alive and he still believes things happen for a reason. I explained that there are no reasons good enough and nothing will ever be worth the price of Addison's life. He gets it, but he doesn't. 

An emotional visit to say the least. Good, but also very sad (the actual appointment part is less than fun, but over quickly). 

I stayed for a while and had my blood drawn. Got my birth control prescription refilled, we joked to keep the BC coming by the truckload. 

I pulled my shit together, fixed my face and headed out. I left feeling like I wouldn't be back until next year's appointment...I suppose that means baby plans do not feel like they will take place in 2014. Brian has given me a cutoff "baby making" date of June 2015. For his own reasons (which are important to him) he doesn't want to have children after he is 35...no pressure. 

I hate that this is such an emotional decision, I hate that another pregnancy would only mean fear, I hate that another pregnancy would make me take so many steps back with all the steps forward I have taken in happiness. I hate that without another pregnancy a living sibling won't be possible. Most of all I hate that another pregnancy won't bring my Addison back. Hate it. 


Tuesday, January 7, 2014

New Year

It's a new year and that has many people talking about New Year's resolutions.

I remember last year's resolution. It was simply to "suck less". It was simple and complicated all in one. It basically meant I wanted to be more present. It meant to do the things I said I was going to do. I wanted to do the things I wanted instead of just thinking about them.

For the most part, I think I followed through. I do think I sucked less...in my opinion, although the bar was set very low.

I think it's a good one to continue and there is always room for less suckage. This year's list:

1. Continue to suck less
2. Blog more, I barely remember last year. I'm disappointed I didn't document much of last year.  I need to continue this thing I love so much. 
3. Print pictures and make photo albums. Start from today so it isn't as daunting. You can always play catch up "tomorrow", but today is the easiest place to start.
4. Cook more, cook healthier. This hasn't been on track since Addison died. 
5. Be more organized (why is my dining room table always such a disaster)?!
6. Declutter (this kind of goes along with no. 5) I brought a box home to start. If a fill up one box a week from various places around the house, it won't feel so daunting AND it's a step in the right direction.
7. Make moving a priority. Brian and I HATE our house. It doesn't fit our family and I know a new place would make us feel like we were living in a home and not just a house. We spend as little time as possible in our current house and I want that to change.
8. Take Mason someplace new and fun at least once a month. On top of this I want to take M to visit our friends and family more, at least once a month and visits to the Great-Grandparents at least 2x a month. Time, memories, etc. need to be a priority. 
9. Buy one new clothing item (one piece not an entire outfit) a month. Nothing crazy, but my wardrobe is very, very sad. New clothes do a lot for the mind as well as the body. Look good=feel good.
10. Don't be so hard on myself. I can't always follow though...even on the things listed above. :)

Two blogs in two days?!? This is progress people!

Monday, January 6, 2014

Blue Christmas

I was trying to remember last Christmas. What we did and how I felt. I can't. I mean there are pieces and parts, but for the most part I remember it being the beginning of Mason's new and improved attitude. I think I was still in denial that the screaming/crying/grumpy stage (and by stage, I mean his whole life) could really be over and I was bracing for whatever new stage of terrible we were in store for. Luckily there was no new terrible in store for 2013, but I didn't know that then and was too deflated to hope.

I know I was sad, I know I missed Addison, I know I wasn't loving life, but the details are hairy.

This Christmas was hard and felt harder or at least more tear filled than last year. I don't remember crying so much last year. Maybe I did, but I think I was too exhausted to cry. This year, I had a happy boy and sleep. This year there was joy, but December feels separate from the rest of the year. Almost as if it spins on its own axis. 

November was the start of the decline of my emotions. The anticipation/sadness/grief etc. took over. Then we went to North Carolina and had the most wonderful time with Brian's parents and Addison felt included and loved and my heart felt as full as a heart only working at 70% (purely my own calculations). Total side note, but that's how I feel about my heart. I usually only love about 70% of what my old heart was capable. 70% is the new 100% as far as I go. So if you get 70% that's everything I got! You're welcome.

North Carolina gave us sunshine and love and validated our girl. We came home refreshed and ready to take on the rest of December. Unfortunately, that didn't last long and coming home to "real life" hit hard.

We did the bare minimum and that worked for the most part. No tree at our house, but Mason had the whole experience when we helped get my parent's tree and he had one at daycare. I was very happy not to have stockings or lights or anything else in our house until about a week before Christmas. The more pictures I would see on FB, IG etc. the more I felt sad and guilty that we didn't have those things.

It's been four Christmas' of no Christmas at my house and I really hate that. FOUR. I hate it for me , I hate it for Brian, but I really hate it for Mason and Addison too. I don't ever want Mason to think that it is Addison's fault that Christmas is hard, but Christmas is hard and it's a hard thing to balance.

I've started making lists of all the things I want to do with Mason next year. I'm tired of "skipping" Christmas, but I also know that when grief comes calling there isn't much else you can do, but to answer.

My plan is just to have a plan for next year and if I only cross off half my list that will still be progress, I know I can't have too high of expectations, but something MUST change.

I actually had a moment on Christmas Eve morning where I thought it was going to be a good Christmas. I was even feeling some holiday spirit. That afternoon my damn dog got up on the counter and ate the apple pie my sister and I worked so hard on the night before and I lost it. Not just about the pie, but how nothing seems to go smoothly or easy and it's all such a mess (literally and figuratively). I cried in the kitchen as I told Brian what happened. I cried more because I was angry at crying about pie. Of course it wasn't just about the pie. That opened the floodgates and I cried until our guests showed up. We had a nice dinner and then I cried Christmas morning.

It was a perfectly lovely day, but still so hard without Addison. I just wish so much were different.

Hoping for a better Christmas 2014. I don't expect to miss Addison any less, but I do want to have a Merry Christmas again. Here's hoping.