The Rubber Band

 

On New Year's Eve, I found a rubber band in the doorway of my room. It was an ordinary one, thin and that pale beige color that's so common. I don't know how long it was sitting there, unnoticed, but I immediately smiled and got up to get it. Just in time too, as housekeeping had come along soon after to sweep and mop the floor.

You're probably wondering why I just didn't let them sweep it away. Would you believe that there is a sentimental reason behind a simple rubber band? Let me tell you about it.

When I was 18, I fell in love for real for the first time. His name was Lenny, and he was a few years older than me. To me, he was perfect. Attractive and ambitious, I met him in a retail store where we both worked. He worked there part time while going to college full time, majoring in music education. He was also a drummer in the university marching band. I was freshly graduated from high school and unsure of what I wanted to do in life.

He was friendly and outgoing and made friends wherever he went, but when approaching me to ask me out he was shy and quiet. It was his smile and earnestness that made me say yes. His smile was warm and infectious with a just a hint of mischief. Even now, thinking of his smile makes me sigh and smile myself.

We dated for two years, two years full of ups and downs and obstacles. I don't remember all the reasons why we broke up, and the ones I do remember will stay private. What I do know is that my heart was broken. My first real true love. My first real heartbreak.

We eventually reconnected and maintained an occasional friendship.  Facebook, which can be such a good and terrible place at the same time kept us connected and informed about each other's lives. I can still see his comments on Facebook memories from time to time.

I mentioned that he was a drummer. Well one thing he always had was a wrist full of rubber bands. It was a constant, and when I asked him about them he would just smile that smile and say, “It's a drummer thing. “

Even throughout other relationships, I felt deep down that we might get back together one day. I felt like that right up until the day he passed away in March of 2017.  He was 46 and died of diabetic complications affecting his heart after a procedure.

One thing I will always regret is not going to his memorial service to say goodbye. Unfortunately, the person I was in a relationship with at the time wouldn't allow me to go and I wasn't strong enough at that time to defy him. His comments and insults made me walk on eggshells and I didn't want to rock the boat.

Fast forward a few months to the end of that relationship and myself and my kids moving to Philadelphia. I was miserable and at a dark point in my life when one day i thought of Lenny. I would say that he was a spiritual man, but also didn't care who you worshipped. Whether it was Buddha or Odin or Allah or a mysterious higher power, he just wanted you to pray. Or more accurate, to P.U.S.H. Pray Until Something Happens.

I started praying, a lot. Several times a day asking for an omen or a sign to point me in the right direction to pull myself together. A few days later, I was walking back to the house after walking my kids to school and right on the sidewalk, I saw a rubber band. I smiled a rare smile and picked it up and  put it on my wrist and didn't think any more about it.

Until the next day, and the next rubber band. And the next. And the next. I soon had quite the collection and even the kids were spotting them on our walks. Sure, they could have been there the whole time, but who really knows?

I took it as a sign of sorts from Lenny. A sign of him saying hello and reminding me to keep PUSHing. I took steps to get myself together and didn't look back.

Now, when the end of my most recent obstacle (my surgery and long tecovery) is coming to an end, I find myself reflecting and having to make decisions and plans. I'm a little scared and uncertain about where I'm going or where I'll end up. I'm mentally in a better place this time around but I smiled and got teary eyed when I found that rubber band on New Year's Eve.

I still pray, and I will continue praying and try to have more faith in myself that I'm making the right choices. It may be silly but I feel the rubber band was another sign. A sign from a friend checking in and letting me know that things will be OK.

I love and miss you, Lenny. Message received.

Happy New Year

 Happy first day of 2023. Today was a quiet day for me, no physical therapy, so I didn't have much to do. I tried to write but I just wasn't feeling too inspired today. I suppose I could have edited one of my finished books but I wasn't really feeling that either. I'm hoping inspiration will strike me tomorrow. This blog still counts as writing though, right?

I don't want to do the traditional New Year's resolutions or the " new year, new me" stuff. I'm going to try my damnedest to keep pushing through things and be as kind as I can be. I'm obviously not perfect and have made my share of mistakes but I'm learning from them. Isn't that all we really can do?

My daughter's wish was granted by the Make a Wish Foundation. She's been in Florida for almost a week, experiencing Universal Studios and Harry Potter World. Her cancer has relapsed so they moved up her trip so she could have a fantastic experience before starting treatment. My hope for 2023 is that her cancer finally leaves her body. She, like many children, have already gone through enough.

I have one more surgery January 27th. After I heal up from that, I will have a little more physical and occupational therapy and then I will be clear to go home! It's been a long time coming but that's another story for a different day. God willing the surgery will be short and sweet and recovery will be swift.

The other day in therapy I walked. Two separate walks for 240 feet total with no assistance from a cane or a walker! I almost cried. Happy tears, mind you, but tears nonetheless. I walked a little like Frankenstein but dammit I walked! It was a great feeling after so long.

If you took the time to read this I hope that your new year brings you health, wealth, and happiness. Thank you for being my friend and thank you for reading. Stay tuned for more to come!

NaNoWriMo and Update

 Well, it's official, I "won" NaNoWriMo. 

Not only that but I surpassed the winning 50K goal and finished the first draft of my novel. The final word count is 71,997. The average thriller novel is between 70K to 90K so I feel I did a good job on the rough draft. I'm sure I'll get more words when I do edits.

I am following the advice of several writers and leaving the first draft alone for a month before jumping in to editing. This will give me fresh eyes for the story.

I've also been brainstorming an idea for a new novel but it's too soon ro share the details on that one. It feels exciting to be creating a new story. I hope it turns out to be a good one.

Things on the health front are moving along. I walked 230 feet with a cane the other day. I have one more surgery left to go. I have a consultation with the surgeon on the 13th. After the surgery I'll have a little bit more physical and occupational therapy and then I can go home!!

Home to my kids and my family. It's up in the air as to where I'm going to be living but I'm working on that too. Home. I can't wait.

Prologue: Murder, She Kinked

 

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Please send an ambulance! My friend, she's covered in blood and I don't think she's breathing! It looks like someone stabbed her!"

"What's your name and where are you calling from?" the dispatcher asked.

"Ava. Ava Samuels. We're at 3114 Forrest Avenue. Please hurry!!" Ava cried 

"Okay Ava, help is on the way. My name is Brenda and I need you to check on your friend. If she's not breathing you can start CPR."

"There's...there's so much blood. Oh Cassie, wake up!" Ava shook her best friend's arm but Cassie did not respond. She turned on the speaker phone and set the phone down on the floor next to Cassie. "What do I do?"

The dispatcher relayed the instructions for CPR and Ava started quickly, trying not to look at the wounds on Cassie's neck and body. "It's not working!" She could hear the sounds of an ambulance in the distance. "Please hurry!" She continued doing chest compressions.

It wasnt long before two EMTs came in through the door that she had left open. They entered the living room wheeling a stretcher. "Ma'am, my name is Brent. Please let me take over," one of the EMTs said gently.

Ava reluctantly moved away. "No pulse," the second EMT reported. She watched them working over Cassie and said a little prayer.

After what seemed like an eternity, the EMTs stopped working. They both looked at her with sad looks on their faces. That's when Ava knew Cassie was dead. Tears flowed down her face. Her best friend in the world was dead.

Someone had murdered her. 

Update

 My current work in progress (WIP) is coming along quite nicely. Word count stands at 60K+ and counting. The end of the book is within sight but there is a bit of book left to write.

On the health front, the end is within sight there as well. I had an imaging study on Monday and a pre-op procedure yesterday. The surgeon says it's a go for the last surgery. His office is supposed to call me to set the date.

Once that surgery is complete I will need a little more physical and occupational therapy and then I can be discharged from the rehab facility. It's been a damn long road since January 5, 2021. I've had numerous physical and mental challenges. I've overcome a lot to get to this point and it may be corny but I'm proud of myself.

I'm worried about leaving here. So many things have,changed since I've been ill. So much missed time with my children.

I'm excited to go home but unsure of the reception I will receive. I know I can handle life outside of rehab but I can't help but be scared. 

I guess we will wait and see what happens. I'll worry about the surgery first and the rest later.

Writing and NaNoWriMo

 Hello, it's me. I've gone through a hell of a time since my surgery on January 5, 2021. Long story is for another day, suffice to say I am currently living in a medical rehab facility and had to learn to walk again.

In some recent free time I have started writing again. My current work in progress is about a dominatrix that gets murdered and her best friend who is determined to find the killer. It's full of suspense and some sex and a bit of kink. Beta readers who have had a chance to read thus far have all had good things to say about it.

That brings me to the month of November also known as National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo. This year I'm going to be a participant. My goal is for 50K words added on to my current work in progress which will being me to a finished novel.

So please, stick around. I'm going to be updating more frequently from now on and may even include some excerpts from my work in progress (WIP).

Thanks for reading!

Christmas

Ten days until surgery.

I got what I wanted for Christmas. I get to have surgery after the New Year and I got to spend Christmas with my kids. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to have my special someone with me, but Covid continues to delay that. He's worth the wait though.

The day was drama free for the most part which is a rarity for my family. The kids loved their gifts, and really loved the ones I got them, so I am ecstatic. 24 hours later and I'm still grinning.

I find myself staring at them or watching them and just soaking in all the moments I can. I feel surgery will go well but it has really made me slow down and look more around me and appreciate things. If I have learned nothing else from the experience I have definitely learned to take it a little slower and enjoy the little things.

Their father was no where to be found for another year in a row. I'm not surprised. He hasn't even spoken to them since October of 2018. He's pretty much abandoned them. I have accepted it and the kids are going to make their own decisions where he is concerned. Sabrina acts like she doesn't have a father at all.

I have never kept him from them or denied him access to them. This is his choice and he's going to have to live with it. As much as I hate the damage that he has done to them, I never bad mouth him to them. My friends hear all the insults I wish I could say. The kids will figure out what a selfish ass he is on their own.

I refuse to let him ruin my joy right now. I have a lot to be thankful for and two kids and a special man to love on and that's what I'm going to do. I hope your holidays have been great.

Surgery and Life

 I got the call from the surgeon's office the other day. After some discussion, pre-admission testing will be done on January 4, 2021 and surgery will be done on January 5, 2021. This will be done by Dr. Toyota at Temple University Hospital. This also means that I got my wish and I get to have Christmas with my kids with no issues.

I thought that finally having a date would be a relief and I could make plans but all it has done thus far is ramp up my anxiety. All I can think of is the surgery to the point where I cry. I need to focus on my kids and getting my Christmas plans in gear. I want their day to be special, not Mommy all depressed in the corner.

My friend Preston assures me that I will be fine. He tells me that as long as he has known me (since high school) that I get thrown difficult situations. I usually fall down, plan a comeback, and then get up and push through everything thrown at me. He says that it makes me incredibly strong. I just need to find that strength.

Work is going well however I'm, of course, worried about how long I am going to be out for recovery. I'm also worried about possible accomodations that I may have to have afterwards, like oxygen. I want to be able to do my job to the best of my ability. Everything is up in the air right now.

I think that all the uncertainty is part of what is effecting my anxiety.

The kids are back home with me and it's meant the world having them here. We worked as a team yesterday to get the living room straightened up and we put up our Christmas tree. They kindly informed me that we don't have enough ornaments and we need more so that's on deck for today. We are also finishing up decorating elsewhere in the house.

Right now, Christmas is my focus. My kids are my focus. My bear is my focus. He's been helping look ahead to the healthy future I will have. He means more to me than I can put into words right now.

The surgery has to fall to the background. Present, and attended to, but not my primary concern. I can do this.

Not Fair

 I had my follow-up appointment on Wednesday up in Pennsylvania. The day started okay. I left early because I had never been to the office before and even with GPS, I have a propensity to get lost. I made it to my appointment a half hour early. They drew blood and did an EKG and then I saw the doctor.

Dr. O was upset because I gained back 18 pounds of fluid that I was able to shed while in the hospital. The excess fluid puts pressure back on my heart and lungs. She stopped my Lasix and started me on Bumetanide, which is another fluid pill. She said I could come back in a month, then she would discuss my case with the PE surgery team. Then I would have one more appointment to discuss a surgery date.

I felt great about that. That meant that I could have a great Christmas with my kids. We could an awesome day together and create an amazing memory. As usual, I was wrong.

Dr. O called me later that evening to tell me that my INR (coumadin level) was too high so she adjusted my dose. That's no big deal, I've had to have that adjusted before. Then her tone got serious. She's concerned about the fluid, and on Tuesday she is going to discuss my case with the PE team and see if they could do the surgery next month instead of January.

I got hysterical. I cried. I called my Aunt Carol who is my voice of reason these days and always points out things that I don't see because I get too emotional. She calmed me down and brought up the fact that nothing is definite yet. The surgery team may not be available due to Christmas. The surgery team may want to wait the month to see if I can shed the fluid. All of these are reasonable things and could happen.

Despite every thing that has ever happened in my life, I have never been one to cry and say things are not fair. I generally just clean myself off and push forward. This, however, is not fair. I have accepted this surgery, and even though I don't like it I am going to go through with it. 

All I wanted was Christmas with my kids. I want them to, if God forbid anything happens to me, have an amazing and great memory to look back on. I don't think that is too much to ask for. So for once in my life, I'm calling it NOT FAIR. My kids have been through a lot the past few years and they deserve a fantastic day.

Now all I can do is wait for Tuesday and hope things work out in my favor.

And So, She Cried

 This may be another long and rambling post. Bear with me.

I've been sick off and on since March/April with "bronchitis/asthma". I had a nasty cough and shortness of breath that just progressively got worse and worse. I finally had enough and headed to the emergency room on November 2nd. I explained everything to the doctor, as well as my medical history. He decided to do a CT scan of my chest. The results came back that I had a blood clot in my lung.

I have Factor V Leiden (a form of thrombophilia) and I have had clots in my lungs before so I figured I knew the drill. Boy, was I wrong. They gave me two Lovenox (blood thinner) injections and transported me to the hospital by ambulance, where I was admitted. I was started on I.V. Heparin (another blood thinner) and I figured I would be in the hospital for a few days. Wrong, again.

The pulmonologist came in and explained that the blood clot in my lungs was very large. He said that I may have to undergo surgery to have it removed and that he was going to consult another doctor from Temple Hospital in Philadelphia the next day. He said surgery had two options, a minor and a major. I hoped and prayed for the minor option. After the first consultation, the doctor gave me a printout that was a detailed description of the major surgery and I cried for two hours straight.

A few days later I was transferred (again by ambulance) to Temple Hospital for evaluation. I had a million tests, saw a dozen different doctors and specialists, and was pumped full of meds. I kept praying for the minor surgery throughout it all but that wasn't to pass.

My official diagnosis is Chronic Thromboembolic Pulmonary Hypertension (CTEPH). This means that the clots I have in my lungs are causing strain on my lungs as well as my heart. If not treated, over time the increased pressures will weaken the heart muscle and the heart will weaken and eventually stop functioning normally. Unfortunately, due to size and location and the pressures in the heart, I am going to have to go with the major form of surgery, called Pulmonary Thromboendarterectomy (PE or PEA) surgery.

I'm not going to lie, I am terrified.

During surgery my body will be cooled, they will open my chest and they will put me on a heart and lung bypass machine. They will removed the clots, sew me closed and then warm me back up. I'll be in ICU for a day or two. For about six weeks I won't be able to drive or lift anything. I'm going to have a scar that will be at least a foot long.

I'm worried and I cry about so many things. Complications. Will the scar turn off men? (My special friend assures me he's fine with it.) Will my kids be ok? I'm not going to be working for a while, so I worry about bills. My job is protected but they aren't going to pay me if I'm not working. How soon will I heal? How bad will the pain be?

So many questions and a million more swirl in my head daily. This week I am looking into making arrangements for my kids and power of attorney for medical decisions which may sound ghastly but it's a necessary evil. I need to be prepared for the sake of my kids.

That's the update of my current situation. I still cry on the daily and probably will up until and after surgery. My friends (especially that special man) have been amazing, listening to me vent and just talk. I joined an online support group and it has been a wealth of information.

One day, in the future, the tears cried will be happy ones. 

Ramblings

I have a lot to talk about so this may run a little long. This coronavirus pandemic is wearing on me and if it wasn't for my friends, and someone special, I don't know how I would be holding it together as well as I am.

I was laid off in mid-March from a job that I absolutely loved. I'm hoping that when the governor lifts his restrictions and the kid's daycare re-opens that I can return to work. It's been my goal to work my way up in the company and this virus threw a wrench in my plans. A lot of my plans, actually.

I need to get my car repaired. I need to keep working on my credit so I can plan to buy a house of our own instead of renting. I'd like to possibly take some college courses. With the encouragement of that someone special, I'm editing my book and am going to attempt to have it submission ready by the end of the year.

I also have some legal things to take care of. Two things that I am very emotional and angry about. Child support and custody. 

I filed for child support in 2018, and they still have not served the father of my children. Until he is served, he accrues arrears, but until I get a court order I don't even know how much that will be. I haven't filed for custody yet because at the time we broke up we were still living in the same household and then I had my mental health issues. There just wasn't the chance.

He and I never had that explosive break up fight so I never really let go of all the anger I have felt and it's just built over the years. Now it's been popping out in random ways. I cry a lot and my heart hurts for my kids but I'm also beyond pissed off.

He has not spoken to my children since October 2018. I never expected him to, but I had this tiny thought that maybe, JUST MAYBE, with a pandemic going on that he would seize the opportunity to reach out and repair the relationship with his children. As of right now it hasn't happened and I'm sure it never will. 

My son is seven now and he will occasionally say "I miss my dad." at random times. This tears my heart open because he hasn't figured out that his father wants nothing to do with them like his older sister has. Whereas she knows the deal with him and never even asks about him, all he remembers is the fun dad.

I am just so angry. He has not contributed a penny toward their care. He's not sent so much as a text or email to check on their well being. How can someone just go through life with children and not wonder how they are doing? How can you just live your life like you have zero responsibilities?

I'm no hero. I'm a single mom like many other single moms out there. I may have floundered in the past and made my own mistakes but I try every day to make sure that I can be the best mom I can be. I do it all myself and I do my best not to whine or complain. I don't talk crap about their dad in front of them. I have NEVER denied him contact with them.

I know part of it is the pandemic but I am tired. I'm exhausted. I'm with my kids 24/7, and I am doing everything on my own like I have been for the past few years (with the exception of the darker times and family assistance). Since there is no school and I'm not working, our routine has changed and I have not been sleeping well.

Morning comes and my son wakes me. We have some cuddle time and eventually my daughter wakes up and then it's breakfast. Then online meetings/story time/classes for school. Then it's lunch. Then more activities/assignments for school. Playtime outside. I do crafts sometimes while they do computer work. Dinner, some TV, bath time, bed time.

I'm the mom and it's my job to do it all. I'm just tired. Weary in a way I haven't been in a long time. I'll keep pushing like most all single moms do and make it happen. I say single moms but single dads too. They know the struggle.

And dammit, I am angry!! I am pissed off!! I did not make these kids by myself but I'm surely handling it all by myself!! I cannot wait til the pandemic is over so I can take him to court. He may not want to be involved with his children but his wallet surely will be!

Until then I just keep pushing. I'm not looking for perfect but one day we will all be happier and stable. Just push.

Hard Conversations

Being a single mother (or parent) is hard enough but sometimes you have to have some hard conversations. My 11 year old daughter came home with a permission slip to be allowed to take a "Human Development" class. This brought to my attention that I really needed to sit down and at least have the period talk with my daughter. After all, her half sibling started her period at 10 and it could happen early for her too.

I dove in one night after her brother went to bed. I tried to keep it brief and answer all of her questions. I tried not to be too graphic because while I don't want her to be uninformed, I don't want to scare her so she won't come to me about it.

She was still grossed out and I was still embarrassed and every once in a while I ask her if she has any more questions or concerns. She's quietly asked a few but sometimes she's just, "Ew! No! Gross!"

Then we have my son. 

At dinner the other night he looked at me and said, "I miss daddy."

This absolutely hurts my heart and soul. Once October comes around it will have been two years since their father has spoken to my children. Two YEARS. I just do not understand the thought process behind that.

To be clear, this is not by my choice. When he first left the household, he communicated with my kids. He called, video chatted, and I even brought them to him and we would all go out TOGETHER so he could spend time with them. Then he moved out of state and the contact tapered off until it stopped completely.

As angry as I am, if he called and asked to talk to them tomorrow, I would allow it. That's their father. However, I know in my heart that call is not going to come. It might never come again.

What do you say to your son when he says he misses his dad? How do you make him feel better? How do you explain to him that his dad is an asshole?

If I figure that out, I'll be sure to let you know.

What do you...?

My lovely friend Edward posted this on Twitter today. (His blog is linked on the list at the side, he has posted some deliciously naughty NSFW stories that you should check out.) It made me think for a while and I realized that I couldn't respond in just a tweet alone. So here we are.

What do you want to do?

I want to provide a stable and healthy home for my children. We've technically been considered homeless off and on for over a year. We are finally in our own home and settling into a routine. Things may not be perfect, and really what life is perfect, but things are definitely improving in a lot of aspects of our lives. I want them to make them happy again.

I want to get back to writing. This blog is a start. The book I'm working on and the books I am reviewing are another. I am reclaiming the parts of me that I shut down to make someone else happy and working towards making myself happy again a priority. Writing has always brought me peace and joy and I'm excited to get to work.

What do you want to know?

I want to know more about myself and my mental illness. I've been diagnosed mith Major Depressive Disorder and Social Anxiety Disorder. I've always been curious about how the mind works and I once thought about pursuing a career in psychology or even counseling. I want to know more about myself so I can understand why I do the things I do, why my brain tries to trick me with false narratives, and why I sometimes self-sabotage. I really need to continue with therapy and meds and see what I can discover about myself.

What do you want to love?

I love my children. That's a given.

Most of all I want to love myself. I want to bring back the happier version of me. I spent ten years living the life someone wanted me to live instead of living my life for me. I stopped doing things I enjoyed because it annoyed him and all I ever wanted to do was keep him happy so he wouldn't ever leave.

He left anyway.

All the blame is not on him. He contributed for sure, but so did my mental illness. My history. My choices and decisions. My lack of self esteem and self worth. A million little things that just accumulated into one big mess that was me.

All that being said, I also want to love again. I crave touch and affection like a plant craves water. I miss having quiet nights cuddled on the couch. I miss naughty texts during the day while you're both at work. I miss the long, hard hugs that I could just bury my face in.

Maybe I shouldn't even consider falling in love right now as things aren't always the greatest. My life is chaotic and I have my moments where I am a total mess. Is it right to bring someone in to that?

Really though, when is the right moment? How long should I wait for that?

I want to love LOVE again.

Pretty in Pink

About two years ago I was in the grocery store and came across a clearance display of plants. Most were wilted and dry and probably going to end up in the trash can. I found a mostly dead zygocactus (Christmas cactus) and took pity and bought it. I knew my fiance would have something to say about wasting money but I didn't care.

I took it home, pulled off the dead pieces, and gave the poor thirsty thing some water. It drank it up in seconds so I added more. I checked on the little plant every day, probably over watering it at first but I really wanted it to live.

After a few days of TLC and a comfy new spot in the kitchen window I noticed that it looked to be a healthier shade of green. The leaves weren't as wilted. The soil was actually retaining water. My efforts were making a difference. It actually started to show new growth.

I nursed that cactus for two years. It got bigger and bigger and eventually needed a new pot. I was a bit frustrated because I knew that these particular cacti bloomed at least once a year, if not twice, around Christmas and Easter. No matter what I did it would not bloom. I talked to it, alternated light and shadow, watered it. It was large and healthy but no blooms.

It didn't matter. I still loved it. At the time that cactus was one of few things in my life that I had a little bit of control over.

My fiance and I split in October 2017. We cohabited in the same house until the end of February 2018.

In the middle of March 2018, that cactus bloomed! Little pink buds appeared and I held my breath that I would get full blooms. One day I came home from work and got my wish. Full, beautiful pink flowers. Two at first and as the days passed more cropped up.

Now I know part of what I will say was due to the situation and emotions at the time but I took the blooming as a sign of sorts. That finally, with the abusive toxicity from my ex out of my life, the plant had the positive environment it needed to finally bloom. Maybe I could finally bloom too.

Other things happened after that. I had a decline in my mental health. The kids and I lost our home. Somewhere along the way I had to give up my cactus. We lived in a hotel for a time, then with family, then hotel living again. Things have been really rough for us. I've wanted to throw in the towel a million times but with some help along the way I kept going.

As of September 30, the kids and I are in our own place. An apartment, though in reality it's more like a townhouse. My kids have their own bedrooms and privacy. Their own beds. We have a little bit of hand-me-down furniture but the rest will come in time. It's still a bit of a struggle but we will make it through.

On Saturday I dropped my daughter off at her BFF's house and took my son to the grocery store to get some lunch and dinner. Right inside they have their plant endcap. I looked over and see a cactus. Yes, another Christmas cactus, this one with blossoms already budding. I hesitated on buying it. $3 and I hemmed and hawed over it because really, things are tight and $3 could be used on something that was a NEED.

Tears welled up and I knew I had to get it. NOT because I WANTED it. I NEEDED it for what it represented. New cactus, new home, better life, better me. $3 and it made me inordinately happy. Even writing this I am a little teary eyed because I feel like our little family is on the verge of being great again. It will be hard and it will be just the three of us plus the cactus (it really needs a name) but we'll survive.

If the cactus has taught me anything it's that even if you're ready to give up, if you get the right help and TLC, one day you'll bloom again.

Resurrection

Hey all, Jenn here. The last few years have been chaotic to say the least. I'm 41 now, single, and doing the single mom thing. I'll probably touch on things here and there.

I'm getting back in to writing again. I never really stopped completely but I put large parts of my life on hold for someone else and now I'm reclaiming everything I squashed down. I have a book review blog that I'm bringing back to life as well. You can find it here: https://shiningstarreviews.blogspot.com/ .

I've been approved for three books to review so once I get them read they will be posted. This blog here will be for my writing and life adventures. Along with the reviews I plan to do NaNoWriMo this year. I'll hopefully be talking about that a lot intermixed with life updates and just some general fun.

I hope you enjoy it here. Please, please leave a comment even if its just to say hello. You can also connect with me on my Twitter account: @farfromperfekt . I also have an author Facebook page that can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/authorjennifergarnick/ .

A sample chapter of a previous work in progress has been posted there. Please give the page a like, a read, and comment. I love interaction.

More updates to come. I'm back and I'm not leaving this time.

Xo, Jenn

Baby Update

I had my echocardiogram last week and while the tech could not give me the results she assured me that it didn’t show anything serious. It was quite the relief for me. She also assured me that if there had been a problem with me becoming pregnant that Dr. A, my cardiologist, would have went over the risks with me at my appointment last year.

I am 23, almost 24, weeks along. I saw Dr. M, the fetal/maternal medicine specialist this week and she says that everything is coming along beautifully. The baby had a good heart beat and his bone size and thyroid measure normally. They check the thyroid because I have a thyroid problem and am on medication for it. They did say he was a bit chunky, but it was nothing to be concerned about at this time. He weighs a pound and a half when he should be closer to a pound. Since then, Bruce and I refer to him as Chunkadunk or Chunk.

Last night I sprawled out on the recliner to ease some of the ache in my back and Chunk decided to kick me. It was the first time (with him) that I saw my belly actually move. He is so much more active than Sabrina ever was. When I used to go to ultrasounds for her, they would have me drink a soda before my appointment to make sure she would be moving for them. Chunk is constantly moving and they have difficulty getting all of their measurements.

My sleeping patterns are horrible. I wake up a million times a night to change position or to go pee. I get cramps in my hip, roll over and go back to sleep only to wake up an hour later to a cramp in the other side. I have really vivid and sometimes creepy dreams. I have “hot flashes” where I will get so warm I throw off my covers because I am so hot and sweaty and then go back to sleep and then an hour later wake up because I am freezing.

The cravings. I have been putting hot sauce on EVERYTHING. French fries, chicken, even meatballs. The other night I almost put hot sauce in my pasta sauce. I normally crave some hot wings every once in a while and then avoid extremely spicy foods but I guess Chunk likes spicy so that’s all I want to eat.

I have always been a big woman and now I am huge. I don’t do baby bump pictures. I don’t like showing my body off like that. It’s huge, what is there really to see? My stomach gets into the room before I do and I’ve started walking like a duck. When I sit in a chair I have to sit back a little. Chunk is low, I mean REALLY low, and if I lean forward it feels like everything is pulling down.

We’ve explained to Sabrina that even though she “wants a girl person” that there is a little boy coming and there is nothing we can do to change it. She’ll rub my belly once in a while, and she likes to blow raspberries on my belly to “wake up” the baby. I think she is going to be a really good big sister. She is already talking about wiping the baby’s butt and sharing her toys.

I am keeping all of my appointments, taking all my medications, and doing everything I can to make sure that Chunk comes out healthy. I have another glucose intolerance test coming up in a few weeks and of course my bi-weekly ultrasounds. I can’t wait to meet my chunky little guy.

Oh, I forgot to update...

I finally had my appointment with the maternal/fetal medicine specialist. I had an ultrasound before even talking to the doctor. My little baby was squirming all over the place and was giving the ultrasound tech such a hard time. Baby just would not hold still for pictures or give her a chance to determine the sex. I thought for sure I would go another month (at least) not knowing if my baby was a boy or a girl.

She kept at it for almost an hour, but she finally crowed "Got it! It's a boy!"

I almost cried. Bruce and I were hoping for a boy. This is going to be my second and last baby and I was hoping to have one of each. Sabrina kept telling me "I want a girl person." but she is just going to have to be disappointed. Such is life, kiddo!

The doctor, Dr. M, was very nice, if a little bit cold. I know it's her job to point out the risks and possible complications but I feel that she could have maybe said some of them a little more gently. 

Some people ask me why I am stopping at two. Without getting into too much detail right now, I just have a history of health problems that make me a high risk pregnancy. This baby in particular could possibly have a more higher risk than I had with Sabrina. I have to undergo a few more tests before I want to discuss it. 

I am not going to dwell on the possible bad. I am going to focus on the happy, joyous time of having a boy. I am going to concentrate on all of the lovely kicking I have been feeling recently. I like to joke that he is a ninja. He's very quiet and still and then out of nowhere comes a flurry of kicks. 

Thanks to all of my friends that have been so supportive to me. It's been really hard not being able to depend on my mother at such an exciting time, but you guys have really made me feel loved and cared about. Thank you.

I'm Back!

I apologize for disappearing. Things have just been up and down and busy since I found out about the baby. I have so many appointments and doctors to see it's mind boggling. I carry a binder with me whenever I leave the house now because I forget things. Some of the websites call it "pregnancy brain" I call it busy mommy syndrome. 


So Dr. D, the endocrinologist confirmed that I do have Vitamin D deficiency. He started me on Vitamin D pills (vitamins, duh) once a day. He wanted to treat me more aggressively but he can't because of the little bean in my uterus. I've been on them for about two weeks now, and feel no changes in the numbness in my hands.


A lot of my other symptoms have resolved, and before I started the Vitamin D. This makes me wonder what was going on. I think it may be possible that IF it is MS, then I had a flare up of symptoms and it is over. Just because my thyroid is messed up, and my vitamin D level is messed up, doesn't mean I am going to stop pursuing what is wrong with me. I fully intend to keep on after my doctor's. If this means I have to wait for the symptoms to return, or to demand an MRI after the baby is born, I am content with that. 


Once I make some phone calls later this afternoon, I will be under the care of six different physicians. If one of them can figure out what is wrong with my body, I will be happy. I'll be seeing my primary care doc, fetal-maternal medicine doc (for high risk pregnancies), my regular OBGYN,  my endocrinologist, my cardiologist, and soon my hematologist. The worst part about having all these appointments is not having a car. I spend a lot of time walking to bus stops, riding the bus, then waiting for the bus after my appointment. 


That's life. Maybe one day we will be able to afford a car. I consider us blessed that I can afford to ride the bus and don't have to walk everywhere that I have to go. The one good thing about the bus rides and waiting at bus stops is that with my binder in hand, I always keep extra paper so I can jot down notes on the new book(s?).


I only have three chapters down but it's my goal to have at least three more done by Friday. The book isn't going to write itself. I intend to post more here as well. It's therapeutic for me in a way. I can get out a lot of my thoughts without burdening my friends with a book length conversation.


The other things going on with me are emotional. I stopped my antidepressant, due to being pregnant, and that combined with hormones have been making me extra emotional at times. My mood swings are horrendous. Some days, EVERY little thing angers me. Other days, I spend a lot of time crying over stupid things. Some such things being some of my friends.


It has come to my attention that some of my friends and I are not as close as we used to be. Because I have a child, and another on the way, I can't hang out and party like I used to be able to. This has affected some of my friendships. Lately I find myself angered that I am not invited to a party or a get together. I want to rage at them that just because I can't drink doesn't mean that I can't hang out and have a good time.


One night I was feeling particularly down so I started posting some of my feelings on Facebook. I didn't name any names, I just made several comments about how I was feeling and how I was being treated by certain people. Several of my friends called or texted just to see what was up. The ones that I was really looking forward to hearing from never contacted me. I guess that is all the proof I need that it is time to let them go.


It hurts because these are people that I considered to be part of my family. I guess it's true what they say, people come in your life for a certain amount of time. You learn from them and then at some point some of them move on. Some stay.


I really cherish the ones that have stayed. They mean way more to me than they will ever know.

Update

I haven't written in a few days cause I have been so busy. I saw my primary care doctor who did a urine test in her office which confirmed that I am, indeed, pregnant. She also sent me for lab work. She gave me a prescription for prenatal vitamins and instead of Lovenox she put me on Enoxaparin injections which is a generic heparin. I have to take FOUR shots per day. They are painful and the bruises are huge. 


This past Wednesday I saw my OBGYN. My official due date is December 19th. I know they will most likely induce me the week before. This is to control the level of the thinning of my blood. I am not looking forward to the pain but you do what you have to do.


I also had my long awaited appointment with the endocrinologist. He is going to keep me on the Synthroid. He agrees with me that my symptoms are most likely not thyroid. While he was not willing to diagnose me with MS, he said that it is possible that I have Vitamin D deficiency. He wants to rule that out before he moves on to anything else so he is sending me for several labs. He is checking several different thyroid labs, hormone levels, renal function, calcium, and magnesium levels. He'll be seeing me in the office again on Monday. 


Altogether I have like 15 blood labs and 2 urine tests to do tomorrow. I am going to be a pin cushion by December. 


I have to also make an appointment with my cardiologist and a fetal-maternal medicine specialist.  Apparently the fact that I am 34 is a risk factor as well as my medical history. That's fine with me, I will do whatever they need me to do to keep me and the baby healthy. I have occasional nausea that comes and goes but luckily no vomiting as of yet. My heartburn has been crazy. I mean, I got heartburn from pretzels and a glass of water.


The best thing about all of these appointments and all the bus rides is that I take my little notebook with me and scribble away notes for my new book. I got one more chapter done, and some pretty fleshed out ideas for at least the next three. I am really excited about this story. I've been going to bed earlier at night because I am so tired by the ending of the day so it has cut into my writing time a bit. It's okay though because when Bruce has his days off he doesn't mind if I sit for an hour or two and just type away.


I'll write more later, but here are some pictures:

My Prenatal Vitamin

Two Orange shots and Two black shots a day

Bruising from my injections

The little bean's first picture!

Exciting News!

That's right, two lines mean a new addition to the family! I am excited, anxious, happy, and sad all at once. This wasn't a planned pregnancy exactly, but I am going to just go with the flow. We are hoping for a boy but as long as it is a healthy baby with ten fingers and ten toes and everything in all the right places we will take whatever we are blessed with. Who am I kidding, even if there were something wrong, we will take the baby and go with the flow.

I was so nervous when I took the test on Saturday. No idea why because it's not like it's the first test I have ever taken. My hands were shaking so bad I almost spilled the sample. Then as I watched the two lines popped up, and after three minutes it was positive! My first reaction was to cry. My second was to just sit on the edge of the tub staring at it.

I finally composed myself and went out into the living room and told Bruce to go take a look for himself. He calls from the bathroom "Are two lines good or bad?" I had to laugh cause I left the box right next to the test.

We're happy with a new baby coming, even though there are some family members that may not be. It is what it is, I am not able to ask for a refund or send it back. They will either accept it or not and that is their choice. 

I will be a high risk pregnancy. This is no news to me because I was a high risk pregnancy with Sabrina. I have several medical conditions that will need to be monitored. I will have to see a high risk OBGYN. Whatever I have to do, I will do it. This include the shots of Lovenox (a blood thinner) four times a day. They are painful and leave horrific bruises but a healthy baby and a healthy mommy is worth it. 

I already had my first massive headache from the caffeine withdrawal but I made it through. I didn't have any nausea or vomiting with Sabrina, but so far every day in the middle of the afternoon I have been getting nauseated. No vomiting yet (knock on wood) so that is good at least. Maybe since this pregnancy has been different it means a boy? Wishful thinking, I know. 

Sabrina is the cutest. We told her that there is a baby in my belly and that it should come out around Christmas time. She likes pretzels as one of her snacks and yesterday she brought me some and said, "Mommy, baby eat some pretz." She is so cute and is going to make an amazing big sister.

*  *  *  *  *  *  

The day I found out I was pregnant I also knocked out the first two chapters of my new book. Since then things have been a little crazy but I plan to get at least one more chapter knocked out today. I made one minor change to my outline as I was going along and the rest just flowed out of me.

Off to get some writing done and trying not to crack my face from smiling so much. I have so many exciting things going on!