My Children

Today is my favorite niece's sixth birthday.

While I can't be in person to celebrate with her, I did mail a present for her to enjoy.

Thinking of the plethora of nieces and nephews, make me think of my own lost opportunities to have children.

I think what if my babies has lived thoughts. How would my life be different? I very rarely think on the three lives that could have been - the three new people that could've been.

My children would have been 13, 11, and 7. If that doesn't make me sad and old at the same time, I don't know what else could.  In my mind, they were all boys. I would've had a house full of boys, complete with superheroes and gifts of earthworms and frogs.  My little Michael, Zed, and Alex. I heard each of their heartbeats. I held them within my body. I spent months with Michael and Zed. I only knew of Alex for a few short hours. Each one of them changed me. I processed their end and I grieved them at the time. I grieve them still.  While miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies only effect 1 in 4 pregnancies, why was I cursed with having all of my pregnancies end this way? 

The first, I was 19 years old. I was still a child. I was heartbroken, but knew I could try again.

The second, I bonded with the little grape. I was almost past the first trimester. That hurt my heart like a bitch. But, finally, I had answers. My next would survive because my doctors had found the reason my body kept murdering my babies. We could try again.

And then the third pregnancy happened and it ended within the same day of me finding out. I was 7 weeks along. No amount of pleading the doctor to "just move the baby to where it was supposed to be" would change what was medically possible.  The ultrasound nurse showed me the zygote, and I could hear his heartbeat.  And then it had to end. I could rupture at anytime. It was amazing I hadn't already with the amount of bleeding I was having. They ended my pregnancy, taking my Fallopian tube and decommissioning an ovary all in the space of a few hours. That was my only surgery ever, and I woke up, alone, and in pain. In pain physically and in my heart. 

And 8 years later, that one still hurts the most. 

In 2016, I found out I have fibroid tumors and they're blocking my remaining Fallopian tube. I never had insurance long enough to have anything done about them. I currently live in a state of absolute awful pain every month. In the 8 years since my last pregnancy, my husband I have never used contraceptives and we haven't conceived - not even a scare.

It's not a thing that's going to happen for me.

At 28 when I found out, it sucked, but we hoped maybe something would change and we'd revisit the idea of children later, in 10 years.

At 32, I occasionally hear my bio clock ticking. I'll have those urges for children. Then I remember the three I lost, and I'm not strong enough to lose a fourth.

I have to settle for being an aunt to some amazing niblings. I'll watch them grow up on via Facebook, and mail presents for birthdays and holidays. I'm the aunt that lives far away now.

Social Distancing

It's me, your neighborly depressed chick!

Today, I'd like to talk to you all about Social Distancing.

No, I'm not talking about caronavirus or COVID-19.

I'm talking about all those relationships that make up our lives. The important people, the unimportant people, the ones we love, the ones we hate.

I've come to the realization that I don't mean shit to many people.  And I don't care for a lot of others either. 

I say this as I realized today, I have not had a conversation with my sisters in years. Not even meaningless inconsequential small talk. 

I talk to my friends and family as much now as I did a year a ago. Moving 1,000 miles away hasn't lessened or increased the frequency of when I talk to my family.  My mother and two of my brothers are the only ones who check in. One brother to share pictures of his baby, and my mother to complain about the sister that has moved home. 

One day, I'd like someone to text me or call me and ask me how I'm doing. Just once. I'd like someone to genuinely have a conversation with me about me and what's going on.

I'm constantly shoved inside of who I am. Who fucking know me?  Can anyone even name my favorite color, or my favorite song?

Can I name anyone in my social circle's favorite color or song?

No.

What's the point?

Little Mico

Little Mico, Little Mico
Why so weepy?
Little Mico is sleepy.

Little Mico, Little Mico
Your pillow is a sock.
You cannot sleep on a rock.
I think not. I think not.

I'm a little sushi roll.
I will sleep in this hole.

Little Mico, Little Mico
A bear is not a blanket.
Your napping place is unfit.
I think not. I think not.

Me Again, Still in Oklahoma

It's months later, and I am still here, still here in Oklahoma.

This time I can say, that one thing has improved.  I now have a career of my own. I was working part time at a bank, while applying to web dev jobs.

I didn't exactly land a web dev job, but I got close.  I'm now an Event Marketing Manager. Yea. Fancy title right? Also fancy paycheck.  It's pretty much a perfect fit job.  I plan, marketing, time, and execute race and endurance events. My clients pay me to create create websites for their events, an online registration process, and produce live online race timing results in person.  I get to be techy, an event planner, a marketer, outside, and a little bit of traveling too. I've been with this new company for over a month now, and I feel like this may be the place for me here in Oklahoma. I miss park work, and being outside all the time. But, let's be realistic, without a college degree, that career path wasn't happening. Now my skills are being narrowed in a certain industry niche, so in the long run, I'll be able to demand a higher price tag, not that what I'm making right now isn't nice.

Also, let me be real about my new salary. This is the most money I've ever been paid in my life.  I do not know what to do with myself or how I should act.  We have struggled for so long with being poor, that like what the hell do I do with this money?  At first, there's things we have to buy and spend money on, just because now we're playing catch up. Like finally seeing a dentist to fix my tooth, or finally getting new clothes.  I bought a pack of underwear guiltfree this week. Like, WHAT THE HELL? So for the first few months, all this money we're now making will go to catch up, like pay off old debts, and new clothes, shoes without holes in them, a bed that's not on the floor, SOME MUTHAFUCKING POTS AND PANS, curtains - things that we have just gone without.
But in six months? At this point, we're kinda afraid to spend our salary.  I keep wanting to hoard it in savings. What if it goes away? What if my new awesome company decides that hate me suddenly. Just kidding, we don't want you.

So now, I've gained some of my self worth back with making money, I'm still depressed as hell. Miss home, and wonder what the am I doing in my marriage.

Here's the problem. I don't have an outside perspective or anyone to talk to about my marriage. I'm not allowed to. Any martial problems have to be discussed with my husband, and never with anyone else. I've always felt that was wrong, and a few times I have talked to others, I get yelled at and told our problems are not their business. I often wonder why we've lasted this long. I also wonder if I'm being mentally abused.  But, without anyone to talk to about it, I think I'm just being dramatic and making shit up.  Lately, I feel really uncomfortable with who I am married to.  It's things that are red flags. Things I read about other women have went through and call their exes abusers.  But, mine doesn't view what he is doing as wrong. he feels that he is normal and that I am the crazy one.  like right now, I feel that that everything I've written so far needs to be deleted and my questions hid from the world.  I know that if hubs read this, I'd be in for a good verbal shake down.  He's never been physically abusive, and I think this is where it's all messed up in my head.  Lately, he's been very insistent that I get "healthy".  I feel that every food choice I make is wrong. Because I'm not eating healthy. I'm chunky. I don't want to get up at 6am and do yoga.  He's lost 100lbs. I'm proud of him. But it's become unbearable.  I'm not physically good enough for him.  His favorite phrase is "I'm attracted to femininity".  I'm not a feminine woman. Never never have been. I'm not going to where dresses and tights and dress up for his fantasies.  We already only have sex once a month, and it's on his terms. It's my fault we don't have more sex because I "don't take care of myself" and I'm not feminine.

Even though both of us now make similar amounts of money. We both work full time, it's still my job to keep the house. He thinks that he does dishes once a week and that he cooks his meals He doesn't have to do anything else. We both work full time, yet after dinner and until bed time, he's watching youtube, and I'm cleaning. I do the laundry. I vacuum. I have just as much free time as he does, yet he can't be bothered to help more than the one day that I work and he doesn't? That's not really am I abused issues. That's more of a learning to live together thing, though.

I can't decide if I'm crazy or not.