The Duchess

Consider this the end.

Dear S.

I have been quiet. I have been traveling a road so high I sometimes need oxygen to safely navigate this treacherous path you have laid out for me. I am trying. I am trying my best everyday to put myself in your shoes and to understand where you are coming from so I can understand the things you have said to me. I am sad, not just at the loss of our friendship but also for the impression you have carried away of me. I find it impossible that all of your accusations could be true; if they are then I am very sad that I am that person.

You will probably never read this and if you do happen one day to stumble upon this letter I hope it makes you feel embarrassed and just a tiny bit ashamed. That sounds mean and someday I will reread this account and I will think, "jeez that was a bit harsh" but for now I am hurt and that is how I feel. Life is hard enough to navigate without having people who are supposed to be your friends stand in judgment of you. This all began in June when I had surgery and I didn't call you. You felt hurt that in my time of need I did not reach out to you, instead of telling me this you started to ignore me. For a second let us put aside how incredibly selfish it is that you were mad that I did not call you after I had surgery and let us focus on the fact that you were in the middle of your brother's wedding and busy with your own family, I appreciated the phone call to see if I was okay I didn't realize that it needed to be returned immediately or you would be upset.

Ignoring someone and the issue you have with them may work for you in other relationships but to roll in my world I expect my friends to be honest and upfront. I let this go on for weeks because I felt awful and sick and couldn't figure out why I was having such a hard time recovering. I finally confronted you in an email, I felt it would make you most comfortable, we talked and it was a great talk and you made it seem as though things were fine between us we started going on walks together and making plans to hang out but every time we were in a social situation that was more than the two of us you would ignore me or even worse the day we were supposed to go to the farmer's market and after you were already 35 minutes late you called to cancel. Things come up everyone knows this but it is unlike you to be that dismissive of another person. I let this go on for far too long without calling you out. When I finally did I was shocked.

You wanted to hash things out over text messaging and by hash those out I mean you wanted to have your say but not hear a response. I read and responded and took this road they call the high one. I said I felt we should have lunch to discuss these things, if our friendship was to be salvageable we needed to understand each other better. I tried to respond to your concerns with compassion and warmth and understanding. You said to me that I think I am better than everyone and in the next breath that I am too self deprecating, you said I am unable to open my circle of friends and then you said that I choose to make money by working nights over being with my family and you lost me forever.

I work at night so that my family may travel and participate in extra activities that one income does not allow for. I work at night to maintain a sense of self outside of my family and to have exposure to conversations that have nothing to do with poop or vegetables. I work at night so that I can spend all day and every weekend with my family really enjoying them and not taking the time I have with them for granted. I work at night because I like to work and I do like to earn money it makes ME feel important and worthy to MYSELF.

I would never judge someone who chooses to work in the home out of the home or on the moon. Kids, no kids, wants kids, hates kids, work is a personal thing. I can see how this would be hard for you to understand never really having had to work in your life (yes this is harsh also but true) you do work twice a week and put your children in daycare which is your choice and as long as that choice is best for you and your family that should be all that matters. Where you get off standing in judgment of what works best for my family is beyond me. I have met your mother several times and as far as I can tell she never raised you to be such a callous and hurtful person.

You said other things, things I won't put in print because I don't care to remember them, I left that lunch with a sense of calm this has nothing to do with me and I wouldn't be surprised if you no longer wanted to be my friend for a whole other set of reasons next week. First it was you couldn't hang out at night and then it was you choose to do your housework and chores during the day so you can hang out at night, so which is it day or night? Why not just be honest and say you don't want to spend time with us.

The only catch and the only reason I have wasted this much energy on you is that our husbands are such good friends. It is not their fault or the fault of our other friends that you, and now I by reaction, are no longer friends. We are still invited to many of the same events and it is ridiculous to think we would just step out of the picture because you changed your mind about me. I have shown up to these events put on a smile and exchanged pleasantries with you. I have been kind and welcoming even including your family at events in our home, for the sake of my husband I have been on this high road. You on the other hand ignore me the whole time, it is uncomfortable FOR EVERYONE. When we were at the petting zoo last week you even went so far as to dis-include my child. My 11month old sweet as sin child from the photographs and certain activities, you can dislike me all you want; you don't even need a reason but take it out on my child and you need to watch your back.

It is 1000% not okay to treat my child like she is less than because I am her mother. It is 10000% not okay to behave that way when we are both invited to the same activity. If you can't get a grip and deal with us being there than perhaps you should stay home. I am done feeling bad for you and I am done feeling bad for me. You can either put aside what ever issue you have and play nice or stay the hell away from my family. I haven't said anything to our friends and I won't because this is the high road after all, but I will not make excuses for you any longer. If you want to throw a fit any and every time your husband comes over to hang out that is his problem to deal with. If you want to be rude to my child than prepare your self for a private calling out, one of which you have never experienced and are unlikely to experience again.

This is my life and the only person(s) I have to answer to are me, my husband and my children. This is the last bit of energy I will allow to be sapped from me on your account. To me you are just a person I once spent a lot of time with. You are nice and you know a lot of people (just ask you) and that is it. Do us all a favor, since your husband is out of town the weekend of S's birthday don't come. It is a time for joy and love and celebration not a place for someone who has no respect or goodwill.

Best of Luck to you,

Duchess

I hope your sitting down....

I'm Pregnant.

How are you feeling? Do you need a glass of water? Just breathe deeply; I myself could use a whole bottle of vodka.

Are you ready for the super gut kicker...I am 9w1d. This means I conceived just days before my D&C and implantation occurred just days after. I have been feeling sick for weeks but blamed it one thing or another seeing as how I had not had sex since the D&C there was no way I could be pregnant. When I actually threw my cookies on Sunday and then again on Monday I knew something was wrong so I called the Doctor.

They told me he would not order a beta because there was such one in a billion odds that I could be pregnant, he would however test my iron and other hormone levels, the nurse called me around two on Monday and said the lab sheet was ready for me whenever. I loaded S. into the car in 100 degree weather with her pissed and me exhausted and drove all the way across town to pick up the lab sheet, I get down to the lab and they inform me that I would need to fast before being drawn.

Now totally pissed that the nurse had me drive all the way over there to turn around and drive home and come back the next day I stomped back upstairs and promptly lost my shit, I was quickly shoved ushered into an exam room and told a nurse would be with me shortly.

She came in and I just started to cry, I told her how awful I felt and that I have only ever felt this way twice and BOTH times I was pregnant. I told her I was mad that they wouldn't test me, it is my nickel after all and if I want to throw it away on a blood test what do they care? She said she would speak to Doc Bowtie and be right back with me.

I then sat there shaking, what if I was right? Could we survive another ectopic as there was no way (famous last thought) this could be viable. How stupid am I? What was I thinking? I tried to tell myself to calm down but I already had hives on my chest and was shaking. Nurse "I so don't believe you" came back into my room and told me they would do a urine test, you know just so I would calm down. I went and did my business and less than 3 minutes later she returned to the room, "The Doctor will be in to see you shortly, I'm so sorry"

I knew this meant I would have to have surgery; I am not a candidate for the methotrexate shots. I switched into emergency mode and began to try and get a hold of Duke so he could come and take S. and drop her off at his parent's. I called my work and told them I had a medical emergency and as soon as I knew how long I would be gone I would call and update them. Doc Bowtie had to run off and deliver a baby so I had to wait a little over an hour to have an ultrasound.

At this point Duke had arrived and taken S. to play down the hall so I was alone with Nurse Super Love and Doc Bowtie, we started the ultrasound and his jaw dropped, there in my uterus was a small 8w6d embryo, heart beating, arm buds waving bouncing around.

I started to hyperventilate.

This is not what we had planned and yes I do know how babies are made. Duke is over the moon with excitement and I feel lost and alone and overwhelmed. I had a horrible pregnancy with S. followed by an even worse postpartum. I am considered a threatened miscarriage again because I have been bleeding on and off.

I want to be happy, I know how special this is, we had decided within the last few weeks that we would not cycle again and instead we would just enjoy the gift we have with S. I wish I could shake this feeling that I have done something so wrong. I feel like I have robbed S. of her babyhood and irrevocably changed our lives for ever.

I feel overwhelmed and alone and sad and guilty and stupid. Then I feel even guiltier for feeling all of those things, I should be happy, I should be over the moon after all we went through to have S.

I have been trying to think of how to write this for the last two days wanting to tread carefully for those who are still in the trenches, for those who would kill to find out they were pregnant. In truth this is my space about my life, good, bad and ugly. I understand if some feel angry about how I feel, I am angry at myself for feeling this way but this is my place to be honest and so honest I will be.

I need support and maybe a hug and someone to tell me it will be okay and that I haven’t ruined everything and that it’s okay that I just want to cry and not jump up and down today, that I will get there and we will make it.

The memory never goes away.

Two weeks ago Duke and I went on a double date with a sweet couple we met about a year ago. In that year they have become good friends of ours, close friends but not the type where you have exchanged full life stories, when we met I was 22wks pregnant and H. was about 14wks along. H. and M. had decided to "try" for a baby and fell pregnant that very first month. So different from Duke's and my story that I never really felt compelled to share the road that brought me to that 22nd week.

Sometimes I forget that people don't know my story. Sometimes I minimize those three long years and the loss in my mind, I speak of them in a clinical way using medical terms and little emotion because honestly if I let the emotion come through; the hurt, the pain the gratitude, I think it would be very off-putting and a bit overwhelming.

As we were leaving the movie we were all looking at a movie poster for Burno and the tag line was 'Borat was so 2006'  As the three of them started dropping lines from the movie I couldn't think of anything to add, noticing I was quiet H. asked if I had seen the movie. I told her I had seen part of it but I had fallen asleep in the movie theater, it was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Of course she asked why and I was honest when I told her I was pregnant and sick and exhausted even though I didn't know why I felt that way at that time. H. kind of cocked her head to the side and was all, "but you just had...oh" and there it was that awkward moment where I insert a joke and try to make the other person forget that they had just stumbled onto my emotional landmine.

I can call it an ectopic instead of a baby it tends to affect people less but the only difference between those two words for me was the four inches that embryo failed to travel. For six weeks I was pregnant even though I didn't know it, I had the symptoms but thought they were all stress related, for two hours after getting the positive blood test I was on cloud nine and in a 90 minute ultrasound all of that was ended.

On the car ride home from our double date I allowed my mind to wonder back to that place to those memories, the ones that never go away.

I thought I had won.

When I first moved to Typepad Lane and rolled out my welcome mat I was a young bright eyed infertile hoping to meet some other ladies in the same saddle er, stirrup.

Then I finally became pregnant with a viable pregnancy. I was going to have a baby (yes I was borderline smug and bitchy) I had won, I had kicked my stubborn, un-agreeable, downright mean reproductive (or unproductive) bits into submission and while they did not go quietly they did their job. I had a real live healthy baby and I was almost smitten with my lady garden. For the first time in 11 years we were on the same page. I figured we would go our separate ways, well as separate as you can when you are all wrapped up in the same annoying, pretty package.

I was so wrong.

It started about thirty days after the c-section, I had my first period. 30 days.On.The.Dot. Even though I was breastfeeding AROUND THE FREAKING CLOCK. I thought it was a fluke, it couldn't be real,  I had more carefree time coming my way after all I was breastfeeding (!) (I could write a book on that one) then thirty days later I had it again and again. It was weird and yet strangely familiar, unlike dealing with the squalling infant that left the hospital with me I knew how to deal with Red.

Red was different at first I thought maybe she was just working out the kinks after her long absence, stretching her legs and reacquainting me with the routine. The second and third months were also different, longer, odd, and more painful. I started to think maybe this was going to be the new normal and that is when month four hit me harder than a Mack truck without brakes.

The pain alone was enough to leave me laying on the bathroom floor head buried in a towel wondering if I had any pain killers left from the c-section, I had to change my clothes, sheets, SHOES but after NINE days it was gone leaving only it's memory and a cotton bill that rivals the national deficit.

When Red came to visit for month five she brought her friend Spot along. Spotting in the middle of the month has always meant my cervix is on fire, in need of attention. I don't mess with the spotting, weird bleeding when I am supposed to be bleeding is one thing, random "Oh jeez I guess white was a bad idea even though I should be golden for at least another 12-15 days" bleeding is reason to pick up the phone and make an appointment for the stirrups.

To say I was shocked when Doc (I can't remember his nickname at the moment) told me my cervix looked lovely (What the...) is synonymous with GM having a few extra cars sitting around. So I scheduled a sonohysterogram (SHG) for the following week. Dr. Google had already informed me that nothing was wrong; I was insane or possibly pregnant. For the record I am cool with insanity as pregnant without third party help isn't going to happen. So I showed up for my SHG and after taking a pregnancy (snicker with me won't you?) test we got down to brass tacks. All in all the SHG took a bit longer than the HSG but with less pressure...more leaking, less sticky. It only took about four seconds for me to know this was not going to go my way.

Hanging off of every available surface were these stalactite things, knobby and long and ugly. My lining was measuring 18 instead of 7-9. Double? How did this happen? The last time I saw my Ute this close without a baby inside, it was so pretty and calm, the one part of my reproductive posse to always behave, the shiny Breck girl among us. Now I felt betrayed and surprised and sad. Oh so very sad, one more thing to add to my gynecological resume.

Uterine Polyps

Altogether not a big deal, ya know if they don't end up being cancerous because that is one of the few things not on my resume yet. To be clear I have no reason to believe that the polyps are or will be cancerous. I am just PISSED that my body is failing me AGAIN. Doc (can't remember his nickname) told me to go home a talk to Duke and decide if I want more children because a hysterectomy may be the best route.

Hold the fucking phone. I am twenty-nine, a hysterectomy?!?!? Do I want another child? I don't even know what I want to be when I grow all the way up or what I want for breakfast or if I even want breakfast, maybe I will just have coffee.

I did the only thing possible I left the office and cried. Hard. Then I called Doc (super amazing and can't remember his nickname either, delivered S.) for a second opinion. After he talked me off the ledge we decided that the best course would be Surgical Hysteroscopy and D&C.

Joy.

As long as everything goes well I get to keep my body parts, and I get a guaranteed nap. Surgery is set for the 24Th, AM style.

An update of sorts

I apologize for my lack of updates; all is well and quiet for the most part in the kingdom. My Nanna took a very nasty fall that landed her in the ICU last week so last weekend Duke and I drove to Portland Saturday night so I could see her on Sunday. She has a shattered pelvis, broken ribs, a broken cheek bone and two separate brain bleeds that seem to have stopped on their own. She has a comfort measures only DNR and it is more than likely she will never leave the hospital. I have a lot to say about my Nanna (I know this may seem spelled wrong but in my family we spelled it Nanna and instead of Grandpa we call him Poppa) but that will be saved for another day.

I had my first regular OB appointment on Monday and as of last Saturday there has been no more bleeding - nothing! I was worried it would start again after my exam and cultures were done but there was absolutely nothing. Puking however continues to be my favorite and only pastime. I have lost about 14 pounds and this is with eating every two hours. However with that being said I can no longer button my regular pants...they are loose everywhere except my lower abdomen SO I stole Duke's jeans and while they are a little big they pass as acceptable for the time being and they are made by seven which are like my old ones.

So all in all the last week has been a little bad a little good and a lot of normal life which is a relief. Duke and I are going on vacation for 10 days starting on Tuesday, first we start with three days in Miami at this hotel and then we head to Cancun and 7 wonderful days at this resort. I am not sure the laptop situation but if I can I will update.

Have a happy Friday and a wonderful weekend.

No Words

I have tried for days to write this post and in the end I decided to check my Google reader instead. Emily at Not That You Asked has written a post about their dear friends Brian and Katie who has a beautiful 16 month old daughter who was just diagnosed, operated on and will soon begin a very invasive course of treatment. All of the details are over at Emily's and there is a huge Donate button on the left. There has already been a huge outpouring of support but as we all know there can never be enough love and in the world of medical treatments there can never be enough money. Please, please, please click over and give - whether it be kind words, prayers or monetarily.

It was a very rough week here in the kingdom, on Tuesday night I began bleeding very heavily and bright with small clots. I phoned Doc Wonder and he said if I began filling a pad every hour I was to head straight to the ER and he explained that if I started to pass tissue what I should look for and that I needed to come in first thing in the morning.

I made it through the night and when I went in the next morning we started the ultrasound - first with the screen turned away from me. To say it was tense in the room was an understatement; I don't think any of us were breathing. Doc Wonder's exhalation was actually audible and he swung the screen towards me. There was our baby bouncing around with a heart rate of 189. Moving its arm buds up to its face and kicking its tiny leg buds. I was shocked, the nurse was shocked, and the doc was shocked. He commented that the baby was picking "her"(we switch at each visit) nose to which I replied that was a Duke trait and then he said, "This is one tough kid Duchess, I have to be honest I was very worried."

Yeah, that toughness, she gets that from me.

We could find no source for the bleeding and no current blood flow going where it shouldn't be. Growth is right on track and I was sent home to relax. I am on complete vaginal rest until further notice - which I had already been on since week seven. I am officially 9w0d today and every single day feels like a small victory.

Of Shadows and Connections

Spacemom had a great post today that got me thinking about my own family. Right before my thirteenth birthday my father passed away (I can't remember if I have written this story before or not so please stick with me if I have) shortly after that someone asked me if I believed in the afterlife, people watching over me and ghosts. My quick initial reply was yes to the first and no to the last two. The thought of my forty-eight year-old father's ghost watching over my thirteen year old activities really freaked me out and the thought of waking up in the middle of the night to his presence sitting at the foot of the bed led me to sleep with the light on for the next three months.

Slowly as I adjusted to life without my father and began to develop my own beliefs in faith, I started to hope that maybe he was watching over me, maybe we are all really connected by something bigger than ourselves (still not on board with seeing ghosts, spirits and what-not, no problem with people who have these "gifts" just not my thing, for some reason the notion totally freaks me out), However, never having had any sort of sign from my father I just continued to grieve in silence and work my way through high school.

During the summer before my junior year of high school I decided that I wanted to have sex with my boyfriend (maybe TMI, but hang in this really is all going somewhere). He being the good Catholic boy that he was needed a bit of convincing that we were not going straight to hell (we were both very inexperienced when we started dating and after a year and a half of making out, I had had enough) I didn't plan my seduction very carefully, we went to dinner and a movie and then back to my house which by some very weird stoke of luck was empty and I jumped him. No less than forty-five seconds after it was over the phone rang; it was near my curfew so I figured it was just my Mom calling to make sure I had made it home. It ended up being my sister who only a week or so before had come home from Nicaragua where she had been on a medical mission for Doctors without Borders. She sounded half asleep and in a much panicked voice she wanted to know what I was doing. I told her I had just gotten home and I was getting ready for bed. "Oh, I just called because I had the most vivid dream that you were having sex and I wanted to know if you have had sex yet or not" Of course I said no, and she seemed appeased and I made the mistake of telling the boyfriend and then he really thought we were going to hell. I did finally tell her the story right before my wedding and she asked if I remembered what I had worn that night and if yes did it include a red sweater, I did remember and it was very pretty mohair deep scarlet sweater - from the gap where I worked at the time, but I digress. I had the very strange feeling of connection with my sister. We have had other instances of things like this since then but none so clear. I finally had proof of connection, creepy as this proof was, I secretly hoped it was possible that my father was watching over my life, maybe not all the parts but checking in occasionally.

Fast forward again to 2001, I had come home from school and September 11th had just happened and I couldn't get my student visa renewed (I went to school in Canada). I was working as a waitress at a place I hated and just making ends meet, I had tons of stupid debt and was quickly becoming panicked at how to pay for all of it and school and the cost to now have all of my courses transferred. I had just reconnected with Duke and I hated that I worked nights and he worked regular hours but I also knew I didn't want to sit at a desk all day. I met a couple who sat in my section one afternoon with their three week old twin girls, how sweet, I mentioned I had been a nanny and they mentioned they were looking for one but there was a catch as they had another set of twins that were just turning two and a seven and nine year old to boot. SIX KIDS!!! Let me not forget the small fact that I would be alone as they both worked full time and were not into the full time parenting (the stories I could tell). I met the kids and took the job and fell in love with that crazy family and they fell in love with me and I got them through the next three-and-a-half years. I digress...again, one day the father's (T.) parents came to visit Portland from Idaho. T's Dad was not his biological father but had adopted him when he was very young. T's Dad came into the kitchen to meet me and stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me and said, "If I didn't know better I would say you are the daughter of a guy I went to school with." I replied that it couldn't be as my father was from Great Britain and then attended high school in Spokane, Washington. "That's where I went to school too! Was his name P.H.?" I almost passed out on the spot. This guy who happened to know my father from a hundred million years ago ends up parenting the guy who gave me a job when I was on the brink of young financial ruin. This job was my lighthouse in a very scary dark time, it gave me financial security and allowed me the opportunity to go to school, have a lovely home and not feel so lost after not being able to return to school. It also taught me volumes on parenting and gave me the knowledge that I really, really wanted to have a crazy family of my own. I have told this story to skeptics who determined it was just a big coincidence and after reading this you may feel the same but to me it will always be my father looking out for me the only way he could.

Are you wondering yet about why the middle bit with my sister might be relevant? It is because she phoned me the other night to tell me of a sequence of dreams she has been having. The cancer has not been responding to treatments and she has been a little down and very tired. She told me that the dreams started with her at a physic who was reading tea leaves and told her that someone close to her was trying to build a family, she told the woman yes, her sister and the woman looked her dead in the face and said sometimes for a soul to enter the earth first one must leave, she woke herself up but the next night she went right back in and was at my baby shower, she said I was huge and happy and shiny and it was such a fresh light moment, it was very peaceful but then the Medium showed up with at the house with a reminder that we can't always have it all. The last dream she had in this series was of me in the hospital starting to push to deliver twins and she was having chest pain (my sister was there when my other sister gave birth and the doctor let her "catch" the baby as she is able to deliver but is not licensed in the US) and then the dream just ended.

Another connection or just crazy dreams brought on by fear and anti-nausea medicine? I hope it is the latter but either way I believe this is another time that my father will step in and help us find our ways.

Oh That Explains It

I am still working on my weekend post; it won't be up for a day or so.

This morning Duke asked me why I was so angry the last few days. I knew I had had a short fuse but I couldn't place why I was so aggravated at everything, I mean e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. so I ran through my short list of things that usually stress me out and make me act angry so I don't end up in a puddle of tears. PMS, no too early. Money, nope doing just fine. Family, nope, in fact they have all been very pleasant lately. A miscarried baby, hold on, a quick check of the calendar and, oh, yeah, that did happen to me. A year ago yesterday to be exact.

Since my Dad died when I was thirteen I tend to get cagey around the time he passed, it's usually my mother who points it out to me and then I quit acting like a angry loon. I also have these very vivid dreams where I am lost in a Japanese garden and can't find my way out and then I run into my Dad but he can't see me and he is just walking in a different direction. Last night I had a dream where I was getting ready for Thanksgiving and all of my in-laws were there and there was this baby and I was supposed to be taking care of it but I kept dropping it. I would pick it up but it would just slither out of my arms and everyone was yelling at me to pick up the baby. Yikes.

I lost a baby but I survived the year.

Due

Wow. It's been a really long time since I have sat down with the intention of writing a post. I would love to tell you I have been off doing really wonderful things, you know discovering cures, traveling to space, buying really great sheets at 75% off, but it would be a lie. I have been living in limbo, neither moving forward or going back. The flight attendant thing did not work out for me in the long run. I loved the job and some of the people and yes it was cool to wake up one day in Germany and the next in Hawaii but I was just running from dealing with all the crap with Duke and I.

Ahhh another fascinating subject, we are out of the weeds but it is still very delicate. Neither of us wants to be divorced and I really believe we are trying our best in our own ways. I have every hope that it will work but I do know for certain that if we do walk away it will be with the knowledge that we tried everything (including counseling). There has been talk of trying for a child again if we make it through this very rocky patch but we would not try for at least another six months. A dog on the other hand might be the newest addition to this kingdom. We would like something in the 50-70 pound range and I would love to here what breeds all of you have and how that is working out for you.

My sister C. is doing much better, her brain tumor has shrunk from 11mm x 22mm to 1mmx 2.5mm. My whole family is cautiously optimistic. That is all I am really going to say about that - my family is very oddly into not jinxing things.

Last but never least my due date is was tomorrow. I had once said to a friend of mine (whom I have been crappy about keeping in touch with) that grief is yours to take out and put back as often as you need to for as long as you need to. There are some days when I first wake up that I think of the loss and I have tears. I wonder how different our lives would be had we not had that fight after the miscarriage. There are some days that I just feel so at peace with the path that I am on that I just know that somewhere, sometime I will understand and see why that happened.

10 Weeks 6 Days

Dear Left Tube,

It has been 10w 6d since you left my body, have no fear I know you put up quite the fight to stay right where you were and I am sorry that our parting was not under better circumstances. I have, as always, been keeping up my reading of various blogs and in my readings I noticed that there is a lot of, "I'm 20 Weeks!" and "You are now 4 Months old!" so my dear tube I felt that since I am farther than ever from having a baby I would jump on the bandwagon and write a letter to you for you must certainly be curious of all the happenings and going ons since you so rudely abruptly peaced out.

To start with physically I am doing pretty good. Your old pal Righty never gives me any trouble. That bitch on the left however is on my last nerve. Some days she is nice and quiet but others it feels like she is knifing me from the inside out. How you put up with her shit for so long I will never know. My scars are starting to fade a bit but I don't think my belly button will ever be the same. I am running and doing some light weights..abs still leave me all crampy so I have been doing them sparingly. I have also been doing a little yoga, although I haven't been back since the day they were talking about breathing from your center, where all life begins and I started to cry...namaste my ass.

Emotionally I am good most of the time. Duke and I are at this numb crossroad. I have been offered a job in San Fransisco as a fl*ght Attend*nt and a job in Edmonton as a nanny. I am going to Edmonton for a week to see how I feel about being there. C. is not doing so well, the tumor has grown and she is now doing everyday radiation. Her attitude sucks and my thought is that maybe if I am there she will at least have someone to lean on. On the other hand being a FA is a one time opportunity. Oh lefty, I know if you were here you would be able to help me decide...okay so probably not but I want you to know that you are missed.

The only other thing weighing on my mind these days is how to write this blog. it began out of frustration from lack of conceiving and from that I found a wonderful network of people. Now that I am back on the pill I feel like my member card should be yanked. Not that I ever wanted that card to begin with but at least I didn't feel so alone. Perhaps my friends inside the computer will read this and have some idea of how I can fit in while swimming through this new chapter of my life. I so never thought that this is where I would be.

Okay lefty I have yammered long enough. I will be in touch soon and again thank you. You held on far longer than you should have, everyone says so. In fact I believe the word miracle was used to describe you more than once. Take care and don't worry you really aren't missing much.