Jealousy

I write this post knowing the friend I'm talking about reads on occasion. So, In advance of this entry, I say: Amy, I love you, I'm happy, I am, I'm sad too. And, I'm sorry.

My friend's brother is having twins. I'm happy for them. They worked hard for it and have had their own struggle with infertility.

But.

I hate it. I hate that I still remember Nat's twin. The twins we should have had. The trials and drama, the laughs and craziness of twins. I thought it was my due. I thought it was the universe making up for our losses. Turns out it was the Universe dealing us one more blow. One last one for old time's sake.

Mostly, I'm happy with our family. I'm grateful for what we have because I know that even with our struggles, it could have been worse. We could have no Nat. We could have no Grace. We're lucky. I know.

But.

I can't see twins without feeling like we're missing someone. Like there's yet another someone who isn't here and should be. It makes me sad. And mad.

I'm happy for B and his wife. I am. I swear. I'm jealous. I'm still angry. I wish I could hear about twins coming and just be happy for the family. I wish I could just let it be.

I can't. There are too many buts.

It never really goes away. No matter how much time passes. No matter how much healing you think you've done. It just stays. Sometimes it's quiet and only whispers. Sometimes the whispers become screams.

Sigh.

A Recipe

A Recipe for Disaster

2 - Tired kids who have been up too late for days and overstimulated by various aunts, uncles and cousins

2 - Tired parents who have been up too late and overstimulated by various aunts, uncles and cousins

2 - Delayed flights home

1 - Missed connection

1 - Crappy hotel in Detroit

1 - One cranky re-booking agent who made the mistake of trying to tell me while I breastfed one of the over-tired over-stimulated kids who hadn't eaten in hours and who just wanted to go home, that I needed to leave the area because "that's what restrooms are for"

0 - Luggage because our luggage was already one its way to Philly even though we were decidely NOT

3 - Diapers that had to last until we got home the next morning because I didn't think we needed that many when I packed the diaper bag because shit, we'll be home by 3:00.

Sounds like fun, huh? I'm still recovering and the suitcases are still waiting to be unpacked.

PS...I did give that agent hell. I started by telling her how much I enjoyed having MY lunch on the toilet and asking if I could buy her a sandwich to enjoy while SHE sat on the crapper.

Happy Spring

Rumors of my death have been (only slightly) exaggerated

Time flies.

I miss my little buddy like crazy, but now that he's gone, I realize how much energy went into keeping him well and how miserable he probably was while we tried. Funny how hindsight works like that.

We've been crazy here. we went for a last ditch to see my crazy grandmother. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that she is not the cute, sweet, funny kind of crazy. She's the mean, lying, stealing, ugly kind of crazy. I thought I should make a trip for one last time to see her because she's getting up there and, well, part of me hoped she might be a little more human.

Wrong.

I give you this little gem relayed to me by my great-aunt as she discussed my struggle with infertility and the loss of Audrey and my grandmother finding out that we were doing IVF..."You know, God will never let Michelle ever get pregnant again because of how she acted when Audrey died."

That part about "...when Audrey died..." She was talking about how she happened to be at my house when it all went down and I let my uncle take her away because she went on and on about how God took my baby for his own reasons and he needed another angel and all that horseshit. And because I lost my shit when she tried to clean Audrey's room out before I came home from the hospital. She went on about it for DAYS until I was at my wits end with it and my uncle, my wonderful, loving uncle shipped her ass home.

So that is the story of why I would never get pregnant again. Because I grieved the loss of my daughter.

HAH! Fooled her didn't we!

So, yeah. Batshit crazy, that woman. I didn't even tell you about the crazy shit she pulled when I was a kid and the crazier shit she pulled when my mom was a kid. We could write a book.

Nat's 7 months old. I can't even believe it. She so great. I am so lucky. She's teeny still. Just over 14 pounds and 25 1/2 inches long. 3rd percentile for weight and 8th for height. Still my peanut.

Gracie just lost her first tooth. Which is great, but funnier that my aunt was here when it happened and taught Gracie all about the International Tooth Fairy. And how her papa in Malaysia knew him personally. I'm afraid that little bit of wisdom is going to cost papa in some teeth for YEARS to come. We thought it was damn funny here though. Papa? Mmmm, not so much.

So, who's the nutjob in YOUR family? Someone make me feel normal. We all have them, right? Right?