When the pumpkin patch is so effing complicated

Yesterday afternoon a friend invited me to do some restorative yoga (she knows I need some restoration!), but then we found out the class was cancelled, and Mark was cleaning leaves out of the gutters (so he doesn’t have to go out in his underwear the next time it rains) while his dad was mowing, and Mark’s mom was pretending to help with yard work, and Joel was napping, so I was bored and complaining, so Mark decided that we should all go to a pumpkin patch, since it was October 30, the day before our first Halloween with a living child. Continue reading

Random thoughts; deepest happenings

So lately, as I look around at the people in the world, at times I find myself zeroing in on someone random (of any age), thinking, “I wonder why that person is alive and Matthew isn’t…” I don’t like that I always think these things, but I can’t help it. Continue reading

Yesterday I left work on a stretcher

About six and a half years ago, on the morning of my second wedding anniversary, I awoke in the back of an ambulance having no idea how I got there, and yesterday around noon, it happened again. Three others in our office have gone down prior – dead flowers lady semi-recently fainted in our ladies room, another woman several years back ate a slice of kiwi at one of our holiday parties and, as a result, went into anaphylactic shock, and a temporary accountant experienced a spontaneous seizure and was taken out on a stretcher. Continue reading

On returning to work

So I returned to work this week, and, of course, the first task I tried to tackle after my three-month leave was meticulously combing my inbox. But after ten minutes I started to become distressed by what I was seeing (mostly dates in 2015/2016 that elicited disturbing visceral reactions), so I was like “fuck it” and deleted everything, figuring that if anything’s important the sender will follow up with me again. Continue reading

A sad, sad room

There is another photoshoot at our house today (wrote this yesterday), and they want to shoot a scene in our master bedroom, which isn’t decorated very well, so I cannot fathom why, but regardless, I’ve been sitting in Matthew’s/Joel’s room (the nursery) with Joel and Mark’s mom for the last three hours, worried that the photographers will see my retainer that has been half eaten by Howie (I think I left it on my nightstand), but I wear it anyway, because it still works, and I am frugal, and I also can’t help but feel so fucking sad. I can feel myself headed into the familiar downward spiral, the pit of grief and anxiety. Continue reading

Milestones and mastitis and melancholy feelings

***I am dedicating today’s post to SHARE’s Walk of Remembrance and the Wave of Light, in support of infertility and pregnancy and infant loss, and shattering the stigma. Click here for a list of the amazing, courageous bloggers on the tour, leading up to Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day on October 15.***

Mark scheduled Joel’s baptism for Sunday, October 2 without my knowledge. I mean, we’d discussed it, but only a little bit. But Mark grew up Lutheran, and one thing I’ve learned after all of these years knowing Mark is that Lutherans will get their panties in a bunch if an infant’s baptism isn’t scheduled like immediately after he is born. But because I didn’t grow up religious, and I’m aware that some denominations wait until like age 13 to baptize, my panties weren’t in a bunch at all, so Mark just scheduled it behind my back, because I guess he and his family were getting uncomfortable and didn’t like my “we’ll do it later” attitude, which makes sense considering later may never come, because any of us could drop dead tomorrow. (Or today.) And also, we were being divas and didn’t want to share a baptism date with a family with all living children, and our pastor informed us that this date met our criteria. Continue reading

So we may have called 911 unnecessarily…

I think I’ve mentioned before that when I was just a wee one, I was the victim of an armed robbery home invasion, so ever since then, for about 20 years, every time someone knocks on the door or rings the doorbell, I tend to think the worst is about to happen. Never mind that it’s election season, and the most likely scenario is that it’s someone stopping by to try to convince us to vote for a specific candidate. Nope. I immediately think that an armed robbery home invasion is imminent, and I make all efforts to hide the kids, hide the wives, hide the kids, hide the wives. (Not really, but remember that viral video?!) But in all reality, I may jump into the nearest closet. Continue reading