I hope Thanksgiving was as gentle on everyone as possible. I wanted to write something about how one can be both grateful and grieving at the same time, but I didn’t, so instead I wrote a list of things I felt (I laughed, cried, did all those things)/am feeling at the moment.


At a new show I’m watching called The Good Doctor. It’s about a surgical resident with autism and savant syndrome, and the main character, Dr. Shaun Murphy is obviously exceedingly skilled at his craft but isn’t so skilled at his bedside manner, so he’s working on this, but, in the meantime, I’m cracking up at some of his blunders like blurting out to a patient, “It’s a malignant sarcoma. You need surgery. Your prognosis is bad.” My sense of humor is really dark these days, and sometimes I do similar things to poor unsuspecting souls mostly in the form of reminding them that not all babies/children/people live… (For anyone interested in watching this show there are triggers in it relating to both loss and medical trauma. I find myself able to watch regardless, but this might not be the case for everyone.)

Wanting (materialistically speaking)…

New throw pillow covers for our downstairs couch pillows, possibly ones with whimsical animals on them so I can show Joel like, “Look, this one’s a fox,” a new living room chandelier to replace our micro chandelier, some new Hue leggings, some $9 dresses from Amazon that looked great (this weekend) on Mark’s sister, Kathryn… But loved ones shouldn’t take this as a Christmas list because they have done a shit ton for us ALL YEAR (mostly in the form of childcare and donations to massive backyard renovations gone severely over budget), and, if anything, we owe them thousands of dollars.


Joel’s eating habits. The kid used to eat everything, so I was all braggadocious about it like, “Look at my perfect eater with his refined pallet.” And now he won’t eat much of anything, and on Saturday we went to a Chinese restaurant, and the only thing he ate were two massive spring rolls filled with just cabbage.


Over nothing at this moment… Can anyone actually believe this? Am I dead inside? (Partially.)


Over Christmas shopping (the little I’ll do). Finding the perfect gift is not my forte, though luckily I have Mark to help me.


When I think about how my two younger boys are now each older than my oldest, when I see our newly arrived stockings for our three boys on our mantel, knowing, best case scenario, only two of them are for living children, when I think about how awesome our family is and about how Matthew is missing out on everything, when I picture the slightly older boy with whom Joel should be sharing this Christmas, when people seldom mention Matthew’s name when I’m constantly thinking of him…


Completing 61 hours of continuing professional education in the next 30 days, which is required for me to maintain my hard earned CPA license. In fact, the thought of doing this is kind of making me want to die so much so that I’m wondering if I should just let my license expire, but this would be so irresponsible.


The worst, as it relates to this pregnancy, with a growing intensity. I’ve reached 33 weeks. Up until now, given the circumstances, I believe I’ve done remarkably well coping. But now, I’m feeling compelled to check into the hospital, sit stationary monitoring kicks continuously, etc., etc., etc. These anxious thoughts and behaviors are beginning to take increasingly large portions of each of my days to the point that pretty soon I will not have any time to fulfill upcoming obligations unrelated to pregnancy.

I also worry that, as I sit nervously waiting for this baby to live or die, I’m letting others interact with Joel so much that he’ll not bond with me any longer.

I’m also finding myself fearing my upcoming C-section. I mean, I’ve historically found the physical recovery easy, but last time the surgery prep was a bitch, and of course there’s confronting, yet again, the operating room.


With relief that our backyard renovation is finally done after Mark, with some help, finished installing our fence this weekend. I’ll have to post pictures. It’s pretty fabulous.


At Joel’s excitement upon seeing the tractors (like from his books) upon our arrival at the Christmas tree farm on Friday, at Joel’s pride surrounding his skill with his new wobbelboard (best toy ever), at our Christmas tree that looks extra full, at the prospect of Joel having a living brother (though then I immediately shut down these thoughts thinking I’m jinxing myself).


A few of our cheaper Christmas ornaments, including this one.


This isn’t a knock on religion in any way, but, I mean, the last phrase is just inaccurate as it relates to my life. Like the ship has officially sailed on the whole “being kept from harm” thing, so perhaps someone else might find it applicable. Mark was all like, “What if someone we know gave this to us?” (Don’t care.) And then he was like, “Well, it’s a nice thought.” (It is.)

9 thoughts on “Status

  1. I clicked on this and saw the image pop up and was all 😑 and then I got excited to see what you wrote about it because I know you. Lol. This was a good post. I know you’re feeling overwhelmed as the days click by and F’s arrival is closer. But, you got this. We got you 😘

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I like this post. I wish I could reach out and help you with your anxiety but I can’t. I usually reason mine out but it still hits hard at times and takes time to get thru it. About the word “may,” it doesn’t mean “will.” It’s like, he may or may not keep you from harm. It’s not conditional but whether he decides to do something or not. Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re so kind – thank you. Anxiety sucks. Yeah, good point about the “may”… I still find the quote doesn’t resonate with me any longer though. It’s a nice wish for someone, but for me it didn’t come true in what feels like the worst way possible (in the form of losing a child), and if there is a God who actively chose not to intervene, I’m pretty sure this provides me zero comfort and feels like a huge slap in the face… I know we’re all forced to wrestle with these thoughts in such a big way now, and it sucks, and I can only hope we can each find a version of faith that works for us personally in the context of such immense loss, whatever that may be… xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, I don’t care for those little sayings either. Platitudes I’ve heard them called. My faith hasn’t left me but that doesn’t mean it has changed. Which it has. Maybe you’ve picked that up in my religious blogs. Things I understood before are lost and others I now understand. Hugs


  3. I noticed that you posted about feeling dead inside right as I was writing about feeling like a zombie 🙂

    Joel eating spring rolls isn’t too bad. I doubt he will suddenly turn into a only mac and cheese type kid overnight. I was worried about being checked out from my living children during late pregnancy too. My therapist had to constantly remind me that kids are resilient and they will be fine. Joel will be fine.

    Any links to the $9 dress? The price is right for something to wear in this awkward postpartum phase.

    I hope the 61 hours can be done online 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sometimes I totally think I’m dead inside. I related to your zombie post so much. Joel is I guess a decent eater but so far from what he was before it’s freaking me out, but I know toddlers change a lot. It can be done online and will probably only take me like 30 hours but STILL. And yeah $9 is perfect – let me see if I can get the link from Mark’s sis.


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