I am a giver by nature. My mom used to say, that I'd give someone my last dollar and she's right. I totally would. If you're family or friend, you've probably at some point, been the recipient of a gift that didn't come on your birthday or holiday. I most likely saw something that reminded me of you and couldn't resist buying it. Giving in a tangible sense, hasn't always been an option due to our financial circumstances at times, but when it is, I seriously cannot help myself. It drives my husband nuts but it's part of who I am. But I'm not someone who just gives presents, I like to think that I give my time and "talents" when I can. I often put other people first before myself. It's not that I think that I don't matter but I just naturally find myself concerned for the well-being and care of others and like to do what I can when I can. As wonderful as this all is, it means that I put myself on a back burner many of times. I don't even realize that I'm doing it. Mostly that's because I truly receive more of a blessing as a giver. The thing about back burners is that they are hardly used and when they are it's for the less important part of the meal or for something that doesn't need much attention. It's often forgotten and when it's finally remembered, the results aren't always pleasant. I've been on the back burner too long.
Sometimes being on that back burner is intentional. It comes from a place of not wanting to be noticed or not wanting to deal with things in your life. That's why I've been there lately. It's mostly been survival mode. If I can say one thing about 2014, is that it's been full of some hard times. It's been much easier to focus on other things and other people than myself. If you've read my blog at all in the last few months you'll know what I'm talking about. From being alone with two kids waiting for my husband to return from Afghanistan to essentially having to abort my child due to an ectopic pregnancy, things have not been easy. I've had to deal with the emotions that come from these hard times. The easiest way to feel some sort of normalcy was to eat my feelings. I found myself slipping back into old eating habits that I thought I had finally conquered. One of the worst being waiting till my family was all in bed to indulge in junk food without having to feel guilty, at least for the time being. Guilt from over-indulging always comes. I blogged for a while after my surgery but I could never get over this nagging feeling that people just wanted me to suck it up and get over it already. So I tried that. I didn't really get over it. I'm still not over it. I just pretend to be. The truth is, I've got so many dang emotions bottled up inside right now, that I hope no one lights my fuse because it won't be pretty. But I'm trying to deal.
In the midst of all of this, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Of course, I see myself at some point, in a mirror everyday but that doesn't mean I'm always really looking and when I am, I put on my denial glasses or I say that I'll deal with it later. Well, later came in the glimpse and it was like a sucker punch to the gut. The disgusting, over-sized gut that hadn't been there just a couple months ago. The heartbreaking truth was that I had done it to myself, again. I had no one else to blame. I had put myself on the back burner, intentional or not, it was the way that I have survived the last couple of months. It's the way I survived most of last year. By putting everyone else above myself. Because, if I thought of me, I'd have to deal with the heartbreak of my husband being overseas, of being alone when my daughter arrived by c-section, of moving back to a place with no friends or family, of having my baby and part of myself taken from me. Dealing with me meant truly dealing with all of the hardness of life of late and it was easier to focus on everyone else than to do that. But that glimpse made me focus in on myself and I didn't like what I saw. The last few days have been especially hard as I've had to take a close look at myself, deal with the pains of life, and try to put things behind me so that I can move on and become a better me. I have a lot of work to do physically but it's not just that. I have a lot of work to do mentally and spiritually for myself as well.
I'm taking back control of my life. At least the parts that I have control over. I'm moving myself to the front burner. Don't get me wrong. It's OK to be on the back burner every now and then, as long as your mindful of the pot, keep it stirred, and take it off when it needs to be moved. It's not OK to put yourself on the back burner and leave yourself there until you no longer recognize who you are. That's where I feel like I've been so I'm moving myself forward. The rest of this year is about a better me and taking care of myself so that I can continue to be there for my family and those in my life. Today, I wrote down my goals and a game plan to achieve them. I'll write more about those later.
If you're struggling with being on the back burner or life has been hard lately, take a glimpse whether that be physically, mentally, or spiritually. Really take the time to look at yourself. Have you lost control? Have you allowed your circumstances to define you instead of dealing with them? There's always time for a change. Give it all to God and make a plan. Start small. Do the things you know to do and do them well. We can do this.
"Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better." - Maya Angelo
Peace, Love, & Healthy Living,
Jessica
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Monday, July 28, 2014
Emptiness and Project Me
Empty.
That's the word I would use to describe how I feel right now.
For the past few weeks my home has been filled with people I love. As our friends were packing for their move, the kitchen was one of the first things to be put away. Once I discovered they planned on eating sandwiches for their remaining time, I was having none of it. There was no way that I was going to toss out food on a regular basis while they ate poorly for a few weeks.
It was decided that I would cook each evening and they would come have dinner with us. What was designed to be a blessing to them turned out to be the greater blessing for me. I enjoyed every minute of it. I enjoyed the planning and cooking. I enjoyed the conversations over dinner. I enjoyed it when they lingered after dinner was finished and the kitchen was clean and we played games or goofed around. I enjoyed having my home filled with love and laughter.
Everything seems so quiet now. So empty. The rest of my family seems to be taking it pretty well but I'm struggling. Much more so than I ever imagined. It actually feels a lot like grief. I look around and see things left behind or things that remind me of them and the tears come unbidden. Yesterday morning as we drove to church, we passed by their old apartment, only a few away from ours. My heart was sad. I felt alone. You don't realize how much you need other people in your life. I was used to being alone and not having any friends. Now it sucks going back to that. My husband has people that he works with. After lunch he went out with a few to shoot his bow. I'm glad for him but it makes my loneliness feel sharper. I think the thing that bothers me the most is the feeling of being alone. Of course I have my own family but knowing that there were others who would be there for you, to have your back, made living here away from our own families much, much easier. I know it's part of life, especially military life, but as I've said before, knowing something and actually experiencing it are two totally different things.
I know it will get easier. Abigail starts back to school in a few weeks and our lives will be back on a routine. Once they are settled I fully expect FaceTime to be a huge part of our lives. And we are planning a trip to see them just after Christmas. Five months feels like a really long time but life has away of passing by in a hurry so it will be here before we know it.
One of the best ways of getting over things is to immerse yourself into a project. This time the project is me. I've neglected myself long enough. Since my hubby has been home and I lost the baby, I've slipped back into some really old and bad habits, mostly emotional eating which equals weight gain. I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself. I worked so hard to lose weight and get my life on track only to allow circumstances to control me instead of the other way around. So today, I'm getting back to the basics. I'm setting goals and writing them down. Starting with the larger goals and then smaller ones to help me attain the bigger ones. It's time to find myself again, to feel better. My posts will most likely be more frequent and more about weight loss and healthy living again. Those posts are more for me than anything else. I find that I need that accountability to stay on track. I hope you'll join me on my journey. Either by starting one of your own or by reading through mine.
That's the word I would use to describe how I feel right now.
For the past few weeks my home has been filled with people I love. As our friends were packing for their move, the kitchen was one of the first things to be put away. Once I discovered they planned on eating sandwiches for their remaining time, I was having none of it. There was no way that I was going to toss out food on a regular basis while they ate poorly for a few weeks.
It was decided that I would cook each evening and they would come have dinner with us. What was designed to be a blessing to them turned out to be the greater blessing for me. I enjoyed every minute of it. I enjoyed the planning and cooking. I enjoyed the conversations over dinner. I enjoyed it when they lingered after dinner was finished and the kitchen was clean and we played games or goofed around. I enjoyed having my home filled with love and laughter.
Everything seems so quiet now. So empty. The rest of my family seems to be taking it pretty well but I'm struggling. Much more so than I ever imagined. It actually feels a lot like grief. I look around and see things left behind or things that remind me of them and the tears come unbidden. Yesterday morning as we drove to church, we passed by their old apartment, only a few away from ours. My heart was sad. I felt alone. You don't realize how much you need other people in your life. I was used to being alone and not having any friends. Now it sucks going back to that. My husband has people that he works with. After lunch he went out with a few to shoot his bow. I'm glad for him but it makes my loneliness feel sharper. I think the thing that bothers me the most is the feeling of being alone. Of course I have my own family but knowing that there were others who would be there for you, to have your back, made living here away from our own families much, much easier. I know it's part of life, especially military life, but as I've said before, knowing something and actually experiencing it are two totally different things.
I know it will get easier. Abigail starts back to school in a few weeks and our lives will be back on a routine. Once they are settled I fully expect FaceTime to be a huge part of our lives. And we are planning a trip to see them just after Christmas. Five months feels like a really long time but life has away of passing by in a hurry so it will be here before we know it.
One of the best ways of getting over things is to immerse yourself into a project. This time the project is me. I've neglected myself long enough. Since my hubby has been home and I lost the baby, I've slipped back into some really old and bad habits, mostly emotional eating which equals weight gain. I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself. I worked so hard to lose weight and get my life on track only to allow circumstances to control me instead of the other way around. So today, I'm getting back to the basics. I'm setting goals and writing them down. Starting with the larger goals and then smaller ones to help me attain the bigger ones. It's time to find myself again, to feel better. My posts will most likely be more frequent and more about weight loss and healthy living again. Those posts are more for me than anything else. I find that I need that accountability to stay on track. I hope you'll join me on my journey. Either by starting one of your own or by reading through mine.
Monday, July 21, 2014
What They Don't Tell You
There's a lot of things they don't tell you about military life when your spouse is being recruited. They give you the highlight reel and tell you that having watched Army Wives on tv doesn't matter because it's nothing like that. And about that they are right.
People will tell you that every post is different. Every unit is different. And your personal experience with the military really depends on where you land. Everyone's experience is not the same.
Disappointed is not strong enough a word to describe my feelings when I learned that we were headed back to the state of Louisiana for Ryan's first duty station. I mean when you join the military you imagine getting to go places you've never been. We had just spent the last two years living and mostly being miserable in Louisiana. And as I researched Fort Polk it was very hard to find anyone who said anything good about it. But getting my husband back after being gone to training most of the year, I would have went to Timbuktu, gladly.
So, we found ourselves in a new place surrounded by new people being newbies to the army life. The unit my husband was stationed with had been rumored to be deploying later that year and my worst fear was confirmed. We spent the majority of our first six months here with my husband being in the field, working late nights, and rarely seeing him except for the weekends. I remember being angry because I distinctly remember the recruiter stressing that "family" was a main priority for the army. As far as I could see, it wasn't. They didn't care that I had cooked dinner and kept it warm for over two hours. They didn't care that my husband had only been home a few minutes before being called back in to work. It was all very frustrating. Add in the fact that I didn't know anyone and it could be pretty miserable.
They also tell you how many friends you'll make. Maybe things were different in the military of yesteryear but most people aren't very nice or friendly. I seriously have a neighbor whom I always smile and speak to when I see her and all I get are icy glares and a mumbled reply. I've never had a full conversation with her so I can't imagine why she's like that. In those first 6 months, I was utterly alone.
It wasn't until I returned to Fort Polk in anticipation of my husbands return from Afghanistan that I made any friends. You can read more about that here. They aren't the only ones but they are my closest and dearest friends here. In the words of my six year old, "they're are our friends but more like family." It's a running joke about how quickly and how closely Stephanie and I became friends but there are just some people you click with, some people you are just meant to be friends with. These are my people.
So let me tell you one other thing they don't tell you about in their highlight reel...how hard saying goodbye is.
This is their last week here. I'm an emotional being. I feel everything in a big way no matter what the emotion. So, today, I find myself on the verge of tears. I'm not ready to say goodbye. It's so completely selfish. They've done their time in this hole and they are getting to go to a place closer to home. It's a good move. So I really just feel sorry for myself. It's hard to imagine people taking up so much room in your heart when you haven't known them that long but it's just the way it is.
Military life may not be everything I imagined it would be but for the most part it's been a blessing. Had we not gotten those orders to Fort Polk, I would have missed out on making some lifelong friends. So in the words of Winnie the Pooh...
People will tell you that every post is different. Every unit is different. And your personal experience with the military really depends on where you land. Everyone's experience is not the same.
Disappointed is not strong enough a word to describe my feelings when I learned that we were headed back to the state of Louisiana for Ryan's first duty station. I mean when you join the military you imagine getting to go places you've never been. We had just spent the last two years living and mostly being miserable in Louisiana. And as I researched Fort Polk it was very hard to find anyone who said anything good about it. But getting my husband back after being gone to training most of the year, I would have went to Timbuktu, gladly.
So, we found ourselves in a new place surrounded by new people being newbies to the army life. The unit my husband was stationed with had been rumored to be deploying later that year and my worst fear was confirmed. We spent the majority of our first six months here with my husband being in the field, working late nights, and rarely seeing him except for the weekends. I remember being angry because I distinctly remember the recruiter stressing that "family" was a main priority for the army. As far as I could see, it wasn't. They didn't care that I had cooked dinner and kept it warm for over two hours. They didn't care that my husband had only been home a few minutes before being called back in to work. It was all very frustrating. Add in the fact that I didn't know anyone and it could be pretty miserable.
They also tell you how many friends you'll make. Maybe things were different in the military of yesteryear but most people aren't very nice or friendly. I seriously have a neighbor whom I always smile and speak to when I see her and all I get are icy glares and a mumbled reply. I've never had a full conversation with her so I can't imagine why she's like that. In those first 6 months, I was utterly alone.
It wasn't until I returned to Fort Polk in anticipation of my husbands return from Afghanistan that I made any friends. You can read more about that here. They aren't the only ones but they are my closest and dearest friends here. In the words of my six year old, "they're are our friends but more like family." It's a running joke about how quickly and how closely Stephanie and I became friends but there are just some people you click with, some people you are just meant to be friends with. These are my people.
So let me tell you one other thing they don't tell you about in their highlight reel...how hard saying goodbye is.
This is their last week here. I'm an emotional being. I feel everything in a big way no matter what the emotion. So, today, I find myself on the verge of tears. I'm not ready to say goodbye. It's so completely selfish. They've done their time in this hole and they are getting to go to a place closer to home. It's a good move. So I really just feel sorry for myself. It's hard to imagine people taking up so much room in your heart when you haven't known them that long but it's just the way it is.
Military life may not be everything I imagined it would be but for the most part it's been a blessing. Had we not gotten those orders to Fort Polk, I would have missed out on making some lifelong friends. So in the words of Winnie the Pooh...
Friday, July 11, 2014
The Million Dollar Question
They say that time heals all wounds. It's not true. Time may make the wound less painful but it's still there.
It's been a couple of months since my surgery for the removal of my tube including my baby. I haven't updated lately because there really hasn't been much to say. It's taken this long for me to begin to feel like myself again, to feel the dark cloud of anger and depression begin to lift.
The thing with grief is that it can suck you back in at any time, without any warning. Today has been one of those days. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't felt well all week or maybe it's because I finally had the last part of this madness done this week but I've felt overwhelmed today. I've felt anxious, tired, and emotional. I've caught myself thinking about our baby and how far along I should be. I've been over thinking about over thinking. It's a vicious cycle.
The last part of the madness was my HSG test. Basically a catheter was inserted into my cervix and dye was ran through my remaining tube to check for any blockages or problems that could cause infertility or another ectopic pregnancy. I was nervous and alone for this test. I was prepared for intense pain and bad results. But astonishingly enough there was neither. I haven't heard official word from my OBGYN yet but according to the doctor that did my test, my remaining tube is clear and I am good to go if we want to try for another baby.
That's the million dollar question. Do we want to try again? Part of me says no. Part of me doesn't want to risk the heart ache and grief a second time. Part of me just wants to move on. The other part of me, the one that's always wanted three kids says yes. Go for it. I'm not sure which part will win out. Only time will tell.
I know that I will live with this wound the rest of my life. It's a part of me. It's a part of who I am now. I'm still struggling to reconcile the person I was before the surgery with the person I am now. I know that somewhere there is a happy medium. One that will allow me to love and miss the baby that is no longer with us but not be a person tied down to her grief and pain. Someone who can live life to the fullest even when her arms are empty of a life she thought would be there.
It's been a couple of months since my surgery for the removal of my tube including my baby. I haven't updated lately because there really hasn't been much to say. It's taken this long for me to begin to feel like myself again, to feel the dark cloud of anger and depression begin to lift.
The thing with grief is that it can suck you back in at any time, without any warning. Today has been one of those days. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't felt well all week or maybe it's because I finally had the last part of this madness done this week but I've felt overwhelmed today. I've felt anxious, tired, and emotional. I've caught myself thinking about our baby and how far along I should be. I've been over thinking about over thinking. It's a vicious cycle.
The last part of the madness was my HSG test. Basically a catheter was inserted into my cervix and dye was ran through my remaining tube to check for any blockages or problems that could cause infertility or another ectopic pregnancy. I was nervous and alone for this test. I was prepared for intense pain and bad results. But astonishingly enough there was neither. I haven't heard official word from my OBGYN yet but according to the doctor that did my test, my remaining tube is clear and I am good to go if we want to try for another baby.
That's the million dollar question. Do we want to try again? Part of me says no. Part of me doesn't want to risk the heart ache and grief a second time. Part of me just wants to move on. The other part of me, the one that's always wanted three kids says yes. Go for it. I'm not sure which part will win out. Only time will tell.
I know that I will live with this wound the rest of my life. It's a part of me. It's a part of who I am now. I'm still struggling to reconcile the person I was before the surgery with the person I am now. I know that somewhere there is a happy medium. One that will allow me to love and miss the baby that is no longer with us but not be a person tied down to her grief and pain. Someone who can live life to the fullest even when her arms are empty of a life she thought would be there.
Friday, June 13, 2014
Tomorrow
This week has been one of the better ones that I've had in a month. Some of the weight I've been carrying around has felt like its been lifted or at least lightened a little. Until today. Today, I have felt irritated and angry. The slightest things set me off. I recognize that these emotions are irrational but I cannot seem to control them. I began to wonder, "why today?" And then I remembered that tomorrow I have my post-op follow up appointment. Tomorrow, I have to relive one of the worst days of my life. Tomorrow, I have to look at pictures from my surgery and ask questions that I need answers to because I was too groggy from anesthesia when the doctor came in and talked to me after surgery. Tomorrow, I have to discuss further testing and my body's ability to carry future children. I'm angry today because I wonder if my world will come crashing down again tomorrow.
Technically, it's already tomorrow. I have a lot to do before my appointment. First of which is sleep! I'm going to keep my mind occupied until then and no matter the outcome, I'm going to spend tomorrow evening with my family and friends, being thankful for the life I have even if it's not the life I imagined a month ago.
Technically, it's already tomorrow. I have a lot to do before my appointment. First of which is sleep! I'm going to keep my mind occupied until then and no matter the outcome, I'm going to spend tomorrow evening with my family and friends, being thankful for the life I have even if it's not the life I imagined a month ago.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Words on a Screen
Every night I go to bed with a pit in my stomach, a deep, dark abyss of anxiety mixed with grief and depression and every morning I wake up to the same thing. During the day, when my mind and attention is focused on something else I don't notice it as much but it's still there. It's a physical ache constantly reminding me of all that I've lost, all that I've been through. I feel at war with my emotions. I wish the pit would go away but I don't want to forget.
I wonder. I wonder what gender my baby would have been. I wonder if this might have been the baby that looked a little more like me and a little less like Ryan. I wonder what we would have named him or her. I wonder what Christmas would have been like with me being only a couple of days away from a c-section. I wonder what the new year would have looked like being a family of five. I wonder who this child would have grown up to be. I wonder.
I had a bad day today. I had a bad day yesterday. Neither incident had anything to do with my ectopic pregnancy or surgery. It's just that once something really awful happens to you, even minor inconveniences seem like major problems. I don't want to keep score but I find myself counting the crappy things that have happened to me since my surgery. I could list five right now. I know what your thinking. Jessica, count your blessings. Don't focus on the negative, focus on the positive. You have so much to be thankful for. You want the truth? All I hear is blah, blah, blah. Literally, right now, the thought of someone saying that to me is making my heart race and I want to hit something. It's not that you're wrong. I do have so much to be thankful for and I probably should be counting my blessings. I just can't. Not right now, not in this moment, anyway.
What kid on the planet isn't obsessed with Frozen right now? I know that my Abigail is. I hear a rendition of "Let it Go" several times a day. She sings it with such conviction. I want to be Elsa. I want to freaking let it go but I can't. Maybe it's because it's too soon or maybe it's because I'm stubborn. I don't know. There isn't really a step by step guide on how to go about this. I just know that I want to shake the oppression but I'm not really ready to let go of it, just yet. I don't want to feel bad anymore but I don't know how to feel anything else right now.
Writing/blogging let's me breathe. It helps me to deal with and better understand what I'm feeling. I'm usually unaware of what I'm going to say. It's when I feel "heavy" emotionally that I turn to the computer and my fingers fly across the keyboard. When I'm finished, I feel a little lighter and I sleep a little better. Maybe one day, you'll come to my blog and find a recipe or a more uplifting post but for the time being, I can't promise anything more than what I've been giving you. This is real. This is me. This is who I am at this moment in time. I'm surviving only by the grace of God and my words on a screen.
I wonder. I wonder what gender my baby would have been. I wonder if this might have been the baby that looked a little more like me and a little less like Ryan. I wonder what we would have named him or her. I wonder what Christmas would have been like with me being only a couple of days away from a c-section. I wonder what the new year would have looked like being a family of five. I wonder who this child would have grown up to be. I wonder.
I had a bad day today. I had a bad day yesterday. Neither incident had anything to do with my ectopic pregnancy or surgery. It's just that once something really awful happens to you, even minor inconveniences seem like major problems. I don't want to keep score but I find myself counting the crappy things that have happened to me since my surgery. I could list five right now. I know what your thinking. Jessica, count your blessings. Don't focus on the negative, focus on the positive. You have so much to be thankful for. You want the truth? All I hear is blah, blah, blah. Literally, right now, the thought of someone saying that to me is making my heart race and I want to hit something. It's not that you're wrong. I do have so much to be thankful for and I probably should be counting my blessings. I just can't. Not right now, not in this moment, anyway.
What kid on the planet isn't obsessed with Frozen right now? I know that my Abigail is. I hear a rendition of "Let it Go" several times a day. She sings it with such conviction. I want to be Elsa. I want to freaking let it go but I can't. Maybe it's because it's too soon or maybe it's because I'm stubborn. I don't know. There isn't really a step by step guide on how to go about this. I just know that I want to shake the oppression but I'm not really ready to let go of it, just yet. I don't want to feel bad anymore but I don't know how to feel anything else right now.
Writing/blogging let's me breathe. It helps me to deal with and better understand what I'm feeling. I'm usually unaware of what I'm going to say. It's when I feel "heavy" emotionally that I turn to the computer and my fingers fly across the keyboard. When I'm finished, I feel a little lighter and I sleep a little better. Maybe one day, you'll come to my blog and find a recipe or a more uplifting post but for the time being, I can't promise anything more than what I've been giving you. This is real. This is me. This is who I am at this moment in time. I'm surviving only by the grace of God and my words on a screen.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
People Are Important
I've never been what you would call a people person. Even in high school I preferred to stay at home, put on my pj's, and watch TV rather than going to the movies or dinner with friends. I'm not saying that I didn't do those things but there were just as many times as I turned down offers as times that I accepted them. I thought of myself as an extrovert but the older I get the more introverted I realize that I am.
Being a stay at home mom has only made it worse. My oldest is going to be 7 later this year. Once I had her, I stayed home and pretty much had no social life. My husband worked weird hours so it was mostly me and Abba all the time. When the opportunity to be in a social situation arose, I found it hard to communicate with others. My brain felt mushy and I realized that I didn't have a lot in common with most of the people I found myself around. These awkward situations, pushed me further into my shell, so to speak, and it truly became difficult to make friends. The amount of effort it required to make a friend and be a friend just wasn't worth it in my opinion and I wasn't a people person.
As a teenager and young adult, I was self-confident. I felt like I knew who I was and I was OK with that person. I honestly didn't care about what people thought of me. Now, at 31, I feel more insecure than ever. I still feel awkward in most social situations, I still find it difficult to make and maintain friendships, and I have to fight hard against the urge to stay cooped up at home and never go anywhere other than the grocery store. I find myself wondering what people think of me and actually caring. I'm no longer sure if I like me.
I constantly feel like a failure as a mother. That feeling is exacerbated by my ectopic pregnancy. I struggle with feeling like I failed the child that was taken from me. Rationally, I realize that I can't control everything that happens in my body but a lot of our feelings are irrational, right? People keep telling me to grieve. But how can I? I have two other children who depend on me and are always around. My husband works a job where I may only see him a couple hours total during the day. I'm responsible for everything and everyone in my house. If I cry, my oldest constantly asks if I'm crying and why I'm crying. It's just a rough situation all around. These last two weeks have felt like hell and it doesn't seem like that feeling is going to let up anytime soon.
Before my husband returned from deployment and I moved back to Fort Polk he suggested that I send a Facebook friend request to the wife of another soldier in his unit that lived on our street. I had only met her once before and while she seemed nice, I didn't really know her. Being the introverted, non-people person that I am, I cringed at the thought. It would be so weird, right? To receive a friend request from someone you met once and probably don't even remember. He had to convince me to do it but I did. I typed a short message to go along with it, trying to be as un-weird (is that a word?) as possible. I felt sick. Why are things like that so hard for me? Anyway, being the nice person that she was, she accepted my request and sent a nice message back. Whew! Maybe she didn't think I was as creepery as I felt.
What I didn't know or even expect was that friend request would change my life. We hit it off after a few awkward moments when we first met in person. Our husbands came back from deployment and I figured that it would kind of be the end of things. Maybe we'd get together once in a while on our own but I doubted that the husbands would be involved. Truth is, it's very rare for Ryan and I to actually like the same people. Ha. I know that sounds bad but it is what it is. I was wrong and I'm really glad. I'm thankful for all the texts, Facebook messages, and so forth that I've received from family and friends since my surgery but nothing beats having a physical presence in your life that helps you out, comforts you, lets you sob uncontrollably on your living room sofa without judgement, and after seeing you ugly cry, still wants to be your friend! I can't imagine having gone through this without the extra support and care of our friends.
Whether you're a people person or not, one thing that I've learned is, people are important. You may not always like everyone you meet. There are some people out there that make me want to stay in my shell and not take the chance. But without taking a chance on people, you risk never having your life changed by others. No matter where life takes us or where we end up, I will never be able to reflect upon this time in my life without thinking about the friends who made it easier. I'm sure they don't even realize they are doing it. Half the time when my heart is hurting and I'm feeling sorry for myself, my phone goes off with a text to see how I'm feeling, or a funny picture that makes me laugh, or a well-timed friendly "insult". And most evenings, four lounge chairs at the end of a driveway are healing my heart and nobody knows it but me.
And now all of you! Ha ha!
Being a stay at home mom has only made it worse. My oldest is going to be 7 later this year. Once I had her, I stayed home and pretty much had no social life. My husband worked weird hours so it was mostly me and Abba all the time. When the opportunity to be in a social situation arose, I found it hard to communicate with others. My brain felt mushy and I realized that I didn't have a lot in common with most of the people I found myself around. These awkward situations, pushed me further into my shell, so to speak, and it truly became difficult to make friends. The amount of effort it required to make a friend and be a friend just wasn't worth it in my opinion and I wasn't a people person.
As a teenager and young adult, I was self-confident. I felt like I knew who I was and I was OK with that person. I honestly didn't care about what people thought of me. Now, at 31, I feel more insecure than ever. I still feel awkward in most social situations, I still find it difficult to make and maintain friendships, and I have to fight hard against the urge to stay cooped up at home and never go anywhere other than the grocery store. I find myself wondering what people think of me and actually caring. I'm no longer sure if I like me.
I constantly feel like a failure as a mother. That feeling is exacerbated by my ectopic pregnancy. I struggle with feeling like I failed the child that was taken from me. Rationally, I realize that I can't control everything that happens in my body but a lot of our feelings are irrational, right? People keep telling me to grieve. But how can I? I have two other children who depend on me and are always around. My husband works a job where I may only see him a couple hours total during the day. I'm responsible for everything and everyone in my house. If I cry, my oldest constantly asks if I'm crying and why I'm crying. It's just a rough situation all around. These last two weeks have felt like hell and it doesn't seem like that feeling is going to let up anytime soon.
Before my husband returned from deployment and I moved back to Fort Polk he suggested that I send a Facebook friend request to the wife of another soldier in his unit that lived on our street. I had only met her once before and while she seemed nice, I didn't really know her. Being the introverted, non-people person that I am, I cringed at the thought. It would be so weird, right? To receive a friend request from someone you met once and probably don't even remember. He had to convince me to do it but I did. I typed a short message to go along with it, trying to be as un-weird (is that a word?) as possible. I felt sick. Why are things like that so hard for me? Anyway, being the nice person that she was, she accepted my request and sent a nice message back. Whew! Maybe she didn't think I was as creepery as I felt.
What I didn't know or even expect was that friend request would change my life. We hit it off after a few awkward moments when we first met in person. Our husbands came back from deployment and I figured that it would kind of be the end of things. Maybe we'd get together once in a while on our own but I doubted that the husbands would be involved. Truth is, it's very rare for Ryan and I to actually like the same people. Ha. I know that sounds bad but it is what it is. I was wrong and I'm really glad. I'm thankful for all the texts, Facebook messages, and so forth that I've received from family and friends since my surgery but nothing beats having a physical presence in your life that helps you out, comforts you, lets you sob uncontrollably on your living room sofa without judgement, and after seeing you ugly cry, still wants to be your friend! I can't imagine having gone through this without the extra support and care of our friends.
Whether you're a people person or not, one thing that I've learned is, people are important. You may not always like everyone you meet. There are some people out there that make me want to stay in my shell and not take the chance. But without taking a chance on people, you risk never having your life changed by others. No matter where life takes us or where we end up, I will never be able to reflect upon this time in my life without thinking about the friends who made it easier. I'm sure they don't even realize they are doing it. Half the time when my heart is hurting and I'm feeling sorry for myself, my phone goes off with a text to see how I'm feeling, or a funny picture that makes me laugh, or a well-timed friendly "insult". And most evenings, four lounge chairs at the end of a driveway are healing my heart and nobody knows it but me.
And now all of you! Ha ha!
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