So I realize that it's been a very long time since my last post.  What can I say?  Life happened.

The good news is that it turns out that my mother did not experience a heart attack.  Her angiogram showed no sign of damage or any current blockages.  They suspect that she had a very severe anxiety attack.  I'm a little frustrated that her regular doctor has not been receptive to helping her with these.  She took my mother off of her original antidepressant because she suspected it was causing the tremors my mother had in her hands.  Unfortunately, the current antidepressant is not helping.  At all.  My mother has not been herself since she switched her medication.

Although the cardiologist cleared my mother, her regular doctor is insisting that she have another stress test done.  Honestly, I'm fairly certain that it is this doctor that caused my mother to think she was having a heart attack in the first place.  My mom has never experienced heart problems and though she fits the description of someone who *should* have problems, there was no data to support a diagnosis.  Why does she keep insisting that my mother has a heart problem?  And, why doesn't she help her with the anxiety attacks?  My mother has had so many of these in the past year and she needs the help!!!

Bad news - ND suffered a major seizure on January 8th.  It lasted well over 30 minutes and he did not come out of it on his own.  Robert had to rush him to the emergency vet, where they had to push Valium into an IV to bring him out of it.  I had made the decision that it was time to end his suffering, but Robert disagreed, so now we are treating him with an additional medication and have increased his original meds.  Our day is now planned around an 8 hour dose schedule of one med and a 12 hour dose schedule of the second one.

Although I am grateful to have more time with my furbaby, I still do not believe we have acted in his best interest.  He's not the same dog.  He may still be adapting to the increased medication, but he just doesn't look comfortable.  It's so hard to watch the mental confusion and physical disability without my heart dropping.  I just hope that Robert and I can agree if we are faced with a similar situation.

I also have to admit that I am extremely angry with him for not only putting ND through this, but subjecting me to this pain as well.  I'm trying to work through the feelings, but the anger is lingering.  I'm starting to think I may not be able to overcome this hurdle on my own.

I feel like I need a major project to work on at home.  Unfortunately, money is limited, so that probably won't happen until we can afford to do something.  I just need something to take my mind off of work and off of everything else at home.  Hopefully, I can find something after Rob starts working in a few weeks.  I actually think the "therapy" will do wonders for me!

Happy New Year?

Yes, that's a question mark at the end of my title.  It's just the way I feel today.  Questioning. 

 

I can say that I want this to be a happy year, but what steps can I take to make sure that it happens?  This keeps lingering in my mind.  And I still don't have any answers.

 

I think that my vow to try and tackle each day living in the present is a good start, but not completely realistic.  Maybe a better statement would be to say that I'll try and live each day in the present, while still acknowledging that past events have shaped my present and future events will propel me through it?  Does this understanding keep me from living my resolution?

 

I've been trying not to dwell on our loss.  For the most part, I feel like I'm handling everything well.  I make it through each day relatively unemotional about it.  However, the days when those emotions show up, they hit me from behind with no warning.  They make me feel like I'm alone.  They make me feel like I should give up on being a mother.  Occasionally they make me feel like I should just give up.  (Fortunately this feeling never sticks around for long.) 

 

Something hit me from behind yesterday.  Robert was asking me about a screen name that I use and he wanted to know why it included the numbers 330.  I looked at him and said, because that was our due date - don't you remember?  Then he said that he hasn't thought about it since then.

 

I just don't understand that.  I mean, I'm not thinking it about it every second, but it's certainly on my mind constantly.  And I feel like that will become more frequent until we get past that day.  How can he not think about it?

 

Does it mean that he's not as upset as I am?  Or that I'm overly upset?  Maybe it means that he doesn't really care about our trying to conceive again? 

 

No.

 

It doesn't.

 

I know that, but my emotions take control and I second guess every comment and action for the next several days.  (Hey - you knew that I was a control freak and by nature that makes us worriers!)

 

These are the things that I'm learning to let go of.  He's not me.  He's not required to think/feel/act like I would. 

 

At the same time, I feel a little sad that he's not thinking about what we had for that short amount of time and what would have been - especially as we pass each date that would have been significant in our pregnancy.

 

I think that's why I feel like I need to edit my final New Year's resolution:  I'll try and live each day in the present, while still acknowledging that past events have shaped my present and future events will propel me through it.

 

Here's a poem that one of my friends shared recently.  (We wear the same shoes.)

 

"A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.

They are ugly shoes.

Uncomfortable shoes.

I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.

Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.

They are looks of sympathy.

I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.

They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.

But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.

There are many pairs in this world.

Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.

Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

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