Yes, it has been a while. I’ve been preoccupied with stuff. Nothing terribly exciting, just stuff.
Lies- I did go on vacation which was exciting. But first things first…
My visit with my family was good. I’m still a bit surprised, if I am to be honest. You may recall that my dad was not on his best behavior. So I laid down an ultimatum: if he couldn’t commit to not being an emotional steamroller, I would stay in a hotel. He said okay, then proceeded to actually keep his word. I know- I had my doubts too. But he was in pretty good form.
This was in large part because my mom was doing EXCELLENTLY. While I was there, she got off of the respirator, and they removed her trach. She could talk. And she can still talk. In fact, she has done nothing but improve since, which is very welcome news. After about 6 months, she really need some good. We all did.
Now the next step is for a small surgery to repair two holes in her intestines, and mend the hole in her abdomen. Then she’ll finally go to rehab.
This is all good news. Which has allowed me to stop worrying about this and focus more exclusively on myself. Yay.
Last week in therapy, I completely broke down. Now that I have stopped feeling so acutely upset about my mom’s condition, the full wave of what’s happening to me on the non-baby front hit me like an emotional tsunami of tears, snot, and chest-heaving. To be honest, it felt amazing. I let out so much.
Last summer, Mr. Ostrich and I were at one of our favorite spots along the harbor. We’ve been going to this spot for years to watch the boats or the sunset. At this point, I was convinced that something was “wrong” but my doctor wouldn’t send me to a specialist because we “hadn’t been trying long enough.” So Mr. Ostrich and I started talking about the scary what if’s. What if something was in fact wrong? What if we couldn’t have kids?
“Then you would be enough for me. My life with you is enough.”
It was the most beautiful thing Mr. Ostrich ever said to me. And it sorta made me hate myself.
Because I’m not sure that I can say the same thing. Please don’t misunderstand me. I adore him with my whole heart. I do not want to go through this shitfest called my life with anyone else. But if we can’t have kids, I will always be sad. Always.
Up until last week, I had never told this to anyone. Let’s be honest- I do not come out well in this little story. It shows that a) my husband loves me in a deep, profound way, b) I am a tool bag because I genuinely can’t meet him there, and c) I don’t like myself for it.
When I told Dr. Macaw about this, I cried like crazy and it felt so good. Sometimes just naming something, saying it out loud makes it easier to bear.
And now I cry all the time. Like when I stood in front of a Redwood grove last week. Or now in a coffee shop. Why? Because I don’t really feel like holding my shit together any more. (Though I do like the implication that I was doing a good job of it before- Ha!) I will now emotionally puke on EVERYONE!
There is more to tell, like this vacation I went on. Maybe there is something to taking a break, but I was struck by many a profound moment. It made me realize that I am on my own path. This is my craptastic journey, and I can’t change that by insisting that things should be fairer.
But more on that later…