il mio cuore V

Taken at the Fredericksburg Brewing Company Biergarten in Fredericksburg, TX. November 2011.

il mio cuore IV

Taken on the beach of San Felipe, Baja California. September 2008.

il mio cuore III

Taken outside at work. April 2007.

due mesi

8 weeks. Eight weeks was all I got.
 And I really thought this was it, ya know?

I was trying not to get excited, but even at last week's ultrasound I was happy to see the heartbeat. And even though it was slow I was hoping things would pick up.

Dr. K asked me if I wanted to look at the monitor while he looked and I said no. But I peeked and could see that he was trying too hard to find the little pulse that was so easy to find last week.

I've been trying to keep my mind off things, but I find myself getting sad if left alone too long with my thoughts.

I'm taking a break after this. I need to focus on me for a little bit. If I were happier with myself would I have better luck?

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cinquantenne

Ever have those moments when you feel like you can't do anything right?
I've felt like that for a while now. A long while.
I wish I could be 50 year old me just to see how life turned out.  Just push the FFwd button.

livelli

Dr. K had me do some bloodwork this morning to check on the pregnancy hormone levels.
Nov 28 - 642
Dec 01 - 2444
Dec 03 - 3769
Dec 05 - 5973

Progress is slow. The numbers are supposed to double every two days.  Dr. K says he's hopeful if the numbers are growing by atleast 50%, but I can't help but feel scared.

What's wrong with me? I know he's hopeful, but I think I know too much.  I think I'm expecting too much that it's messing with my head. Am I ever gonna have my own child? Is this ever gonna happen for me? Am I that miserable that I'm doing this to myself? What's going on? 

Today I am sad.

But today, all was not lost.

guaio

esasperante II

Around 18:00 I found a drop of blood and freaked out.  I called my doctor and we discussed what/what not to do.  The bleeding has stopped, but now I feel sick.

Really? Really? I thought this was it. What could I have done differently? 

I lied in bed and felt nothing. Maund tried to comfort me, but I still felt nothing.  He knew I had been craving lemon pepper wings from Plucker's and offered to grab some for dinner. I agreed and decided to sit up in bed, but the minute I did so I began to sob.  Once I was feeling a little better he took off to get me some dinner.

I kinda feel defeated eventhough I don't know what's going on.  I can't give up just yet.  Nothing's been confirmed.  But still I can't help shake the memory of having breakthrough bleeding and then miscarrying a week and half later.  And you know what's not fair, getting to listen to my baby's heartbeat and not hearing it the next week.

Was it stress? Was it working in the path lab for 6 hours straight without taking a break? Was it from hanging out with my cat too much? Was it the humidifier? Was it allergies? What was it?!?! What am I gonna do if this happens again? 

Dr. K said to call him on Sunday for an update and possibly go in on Monday morning for an ultrasound. All I can do is wait, huh?

I really miss you.

lvivske

First thing I see when I wake up each morning...

...Last thing I see when I go to bed each  night.

inverno, primavera, estate o autunno

This morning I picked up my phone to say "Good Morning!" and I had to put it down.  "You're an idiot," I told myself.
This is how my day started.
I jumped in the car and this was the first song playing on my iPod...

"Ain't it good to know? Ain't it good to know?"

The next song was Paul McCartney's "(I Want To) Come Home" and then my stupid iPod played Roy Orbison's "Crying." How could it possibly know the mood I was in?

I remember this was the first song I shared with you in our exchange. It was for you, becos you are dear to me. I also remember the joy I felt when I walked into my fav store and saw the music box that plays a snippet of it.  It was for you.  And when I walked in to find it on your desk I knew it had always been for you.

I also like this song and it means so much more now.  I think this video is beautiful.

"I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again."

I don't belive it. I won't quit. I won't give up on you, on us.

In advance, I'd like to say, "Goodnight" and "Good Morning, <3"

un giorno da dimenticare

So this is what it feels like to lose someone you love.
Wow.
Today, it feels like my world slipped away.
I know I shouldn't care or wonder where and how you are.
But I can't hide the hurt inside my broken heart.
But I know I'm not supposed to love you anymore.

"I'll find so many things to do that I won't have the time to think of her.
And then if she's still on my mind I'll try to drink enough to drown the hurt.
And if that don't work...

I'll think of something."

You know the funny thing is I still can't bring myself to bite my nails!  That's stupid, right? And all this because you made that remark.

I can't give you what you want right now.

I don't know why I thought I could?

I tried to plan things out, when what I should have done was jumped.  

A leap of faith.

It's true, though, you're better off without me. 

You can focus on school. Fall in love. Work in something you love! Have babies. 

You deserve that more than anyone else I know.

Today you said "there's no one day."  I read that as we were closing up the office in Killeen and my heart dropped.  Yet another reason to add to the "Killeen cons" list.  Nothing good ever comes out of Killeen.

But I don't believe it.  

"I didn't find a perfect moment, because I think that today was just about just having today. And I think that we are one of those couples with a long story, when people ask how they found each other. 

I will see her every now and then, and... 

Maybe one year she'll be with somebody, and the next year, I'll be with somebody, 

and it's gonna take a long time... 

And then it's perfect. 

I'm in no rush."

The love that I have for you isn't something that will fade.  If anything, it's allowed me to see the changes I need to make. To be happier with myself. To be happier with life, eventhough it feels impossible right now. 

I feel sad, lost, angry. At one point I was trying to rationalize things and thought, "He doesn't mean it.  It's like pushing someone away when you don't want to. Tough Love." But as I sit here writing, my heart is aching becos I know that's not the truth, is it?

One day, I hope to see you.  

I hope to see you smiling back at me.  

I hope to look into your kind eyes and see my good friend. 

But until then, I'll wait. 

Even if it takes another lifetime. 

mi dispiace, caro mio

I'm feeling a little lost. I hope you're doing better than I am. You deserve so much more than this and I'm truly sorry. If you'd like to talk, I'm here. If not, I'll understand...eventually. 

Leone codardo

"Dan Burns: What don't I understand, Cara? Please, help me out. What is it? 
Is it frustrating that you can't be with this person? 
That there's something keeping you apart? 
That there's something about this person that you can connect with? 
And whenever you're near this person, you don't know what to say, 

and you say everything that's in your mind and in your heart, 

and you know that if you could just be together... 

that this person would help you become the best possible version of yourself?"

Dan in Real Life

ad occhi chiusi

I want to shout out loud how much I Love You! My mind always wanders to you and I wonder what is this hold you have over me? I see you when I close my eyes.  I see you smiling back at me.  I see the intensity in your eyes.  I saw my reflection in your eyes and I knew that it belonged there.  I knew I wanted to see myself there.

vagare

infastidita

*jaw tight, through my teeth* 

When my kid is throwing up, I don't want you to sit on the couch and watch her.  You need to go to her and let her know you're there for her.  When her tummy gets upset, her stomach or diaphragm starts to heave and her whole body starts to make the same motion.  It takes some coaxing to get her off the carpet and to the kitchen, but this morning she went there on her own.  She's such a good girl. 

All I remember hearing was, "Oh, Bear!" and you stayed on the couch.  I ran from my study and got her better situated in the kitchen.  I rubbed her back, waited patiently for her to puke and then studied it to make sure it's wasn't anything serious.  Meanwhile, you're still on the couch.

Once it's all over, I had to fend off the other 2 becos they're so curious about this putrid substance. Finally, you come over after pausing your show, get a bowl of water and napkins for the mess.

***

Maybe it's a mom thing.  I remember getting bloody noses and my mom taking care of me.  I remember having an upset tummy, and my mom rubbing my back and getting me water.  Just sitting next to me by the toilet. When I see this happen to my furkids, I feel like crying becos I can't do anything to stop it.  Yes, I'm grossed out by it all, but I suck it up for these kids.

As an adult, I've rarely  had an occasion where I got completely shit-faced and wound up puking my guts out.  Two.  TWO times and I'm a lousy up-chucker. For some odd reason I find myself yelling as I'm up-chucking.  Not on purpose, but my vocal chords are somewhat vocal when I vomit.  Now, my bouts with food poisoning...well that's a different story.

When I'm throwing up, please, please, please, just be there.  I'm a crier.  Rub my back.  Get me water.  Hold my hair. Human touch is comforting.  Don't stand outside the door.  Don't ask if I'm okay.  If I was okay I wouldn't be ear-deep in a toilet bowl. Don't continue sleeping.  Just be there.

inquietudine

All day I wanted to talk to you.
I was restless becos I wanted to talk to you.
I wanted to listen to the music I burned for you.
All day I thought about you.
I was distracted.
And for other reasons I was angry and sad and not myself.
But then you appeared to save the day,
And I was thankful.

I need you.
I love you.
and
I'm sorry.

al posto tuo...

ci sarò io ;)

and in case i forgot to say this earlier...

I Love YoU

una notte

Today was a long day.  It wasn't even stressful, just long.  As I left the office, I noticed there was tons of traffic due to an accident that happened near there.  I spent a good 30 mins in traffic where it normally takes 10 mins to get home.  Once at home, I was greeted at the door by my kids. "Hey, babies! Where's your poopy dad?" And there he is, in all his glory. I find my husband moping on the couch, ready to let loose about his terrible drive home that lasted one hour.  All this before I set foot in the living room and put my bags down.

Since neither of us were in the mood to cook, I was volunteered to get take-out.  I had just loaded some music onto my iPod and wanted to listen to it, so I decided to take a detour to Chick-fil-A.  Yeah, it was out of the way and I was starving, but some music might do me some good.

Once in the drive-thru line (becos I was in my jammies and had no intention of getting out of the car) my iPod played "One Night at a Time" by George Strait and my heart melted.  My eyes started to swell with tears and I was transported to high school the minute I heard that drum intro and beautiful guitar picking.  This song, nay, this album reminds me so much of my high school sweetheart and I can picture us dancing the night away.  He was the kind of guy who when we danced held my hand like in a game of Mercy, except down by the waistline.  He liked to move that arm to the lock-step which really helped me learn how to dance. I remembered how and where he would place his hand on my back and I felt confident.  Or when he would rest his arm on my shoulder and hook it around my neck.  I guess it didn't feel so awkward considering the height difference. I remembered his half smirk and blue eyes.  All this while waiting for my Chick-fil-A order. Hilarious!

Ahhh, to be young again.   I miss those days.  Not having a care in the world, listening to music in my room for hours on end, and young love.  I laugh, but even I have to admit that it makes me smile thinking about "the good ol' days."

I love how George Strait can just stand there with the guitar, not play it, mind you, and still look gorgeous.
le sigh.

è così che se ne va

"You're too sweet...That's really sweet."

late night dinner

"You're in the corner. No one puts baby in the corner."

"Darling. Darling.  Love." (in a British accent)

fist pump

goodbye

preflight call

beto

In the studio - Sept 23-26

 

Pecan Street Festival - Sept 25

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abbracci

Tuesday was a short day at the office.  I still needed to schedule my follow up to surgery, but managed to put it off the past week.  I figured I would have to wait till the following week, but luckily, Dr. K had an opening. His mom fit me in to the afternoon schedule and it was a great visit!

I've mentioned in a previous post that Dr. K is my cheerleader.  His attitude and disposition is something that gives me hope.  When he walked in to the exam room he greeted me with a friendly "HI!" and a bear hug.  I like hugs.  It made me feel more like a friend/family as opposed to a regular patient.  

Earlier, when I was waiting in the lobby I had sent Maund a text: 

"Don't be mad, but I got out early today and Dr. K had an opening. Sorry." 

I know he wanted to be there for this appointment, but deep down I really feel it's becos he's more interested in skipping work than the issue at hand.  

"I'll take good notes. I promise :)"

First, Dr. K reviewed my questions and symptoms following the procedure.  Since everything seemed fine, I was released from restrictions which included no blood thinners, no vaginal activity, and no exercising/strenuous activity.  Second, we reviewed the findings of the procedure.  The results were just as expected, a benign polyp. Finally, we reviewed a new plan of action.

1. Continue prenatal vitamins

2. Call on the first day - full flow of my next menstrual cycle

3. Start a baby aspirin regimen (81mg/day)

4. Start Clomid to prime my follicles

5. Ovidrel injection to release egg(s)

6. Start Progesterone supplement

7. Weekly ultrasound to check development until Week 10

8. Transfer to my regular Ob/Gyn **Fingers Crossed**

I'm good with this plan.  I feel revitalized and ready to take on the world!  This is a completely different story from Monday.

Monday morning, my in-laws had joined Ang at her ultrasound to determine the sex of the baby.  All weekend long we took bets and the consensus was that she was having a girl.  So when my mother-in-law phoned me Monday morning, I was surprised when she said, "Well, it's a boy!"  I asked her to congratulate Ang and went about my day off.  I didn't have anything planned, but I decided to go shopping for things I don't need but have wanted and put off for awhile.  I found 1 thing on my list and the rest of my trip was pretty much a bust.  I was disappointed.

Back at home, I started over analyzing everything.  I started getting really angry and cried a little.  I was jealous and felt like the world was conspiring against me. Why is Ang pregnant? Why does Ang get to have the February/March/April baby? Why does Ang get a boy? In all honesty, I've always wanted a baby boy.  I have nothing but boy names picked out. I have 1....ONE girl name.  I sound crazy, I know.  I sound like a whiny, self-centered bitch. I know! I told myself I would just swallow these horrible thoughts and leave it alone, but I can't.  It's killing me not to be able to speak my mind.  I feel now like I can't be choosey or express what I want, like I have to settle for what's given to me.  It just makes me angry! 

This is how it was supposed to happen: 

Maund is the first born and we were supposed to have the first grandchild.  It really didn't matter what we had as long as we were first.  IF we didn't have the first grandchild then the only way to redeem ourselves was to have a boy to carry on his last name.  Now since the first grandchild is gonna be a boy coming from their only daughter, that means if we want our kid to be loved and showered with gifts equally then we have to have a girl.  And that's probably what's gonna happen.  I'll have a girl and give her a boy's name becos I hate female names.  I don't want a girl.  I've always wanted a boy.  I can work with a girl. 

I know it will be different once I'm pregnant and bonding with the baby, but ugh, I'm so mad!!!! Just thinking about this is frustrating.  Maybe I should give up and adopt.  

Yep, that's what I'll do.  Male Asian baby, it is!

cavalli

Happy Birthday, Pops!

Why is it that it takes losing someone close to make  you appreciate the others around you?

After Tio Nene's funeral, my sister said to me, "Now we have to share Dad with Lisa and Patty." And when I told Lisa what Nani had said, she agreed.  It was the silent assumption that Pops needs to go to all his doctor's office visits and follow orders.  Who knows what the future holds?  My Pops is stubborn, and he's so close to retiring that I'm worried it will be a struggle to corral him. At the same time, who wants to be wrangled? If you've spent your whole life stuck in a pen, is retirement like a horse running free in the wild?

Knowing him, he might turn up unannounced in his dream car, a Ford Mustang.  Or maybe he'll call from some other state telling me he's okay and enjoying a roadtrip.  Or maybe he'll move to a little ranch which he's dreamed about as long as I can remember.  Who knows?

But before I fret about the future, 

today I will rejoice in the fact that my Pops is another year older 

and still...

My Pops!

rifiuto

Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave
Irreverent.
Those sweet excesses that
I do adore.
What surety is there
That we will meet again,
On other worlds some
Future time undated.
I defy my body's haste.
Without the promise
of one more sweet encounter
I will not deign to die.

"Refusal" by Maya Angelou

dieci anni fa

10 years ago I was a junior at UT.  I was living in my very first apartment with 2 sorority sisters at Riverside Place with a great view of the Texas-shaped pool.  

10 years ago I was getting ready for my Texas History class with Dr. Neil Foley.  I had just gotten out of the shower and turned on the TV to watch the Today show.  The images on included the World Trade Center with smoke billowing out.  I didn't think anything of it and there weren't really any captions, so I went about my business and got dressed.  I noticed that the image hadn't changed in a couple of minutes and stopped what I was doing to watch.  I didn't understand what was happening.  Was there a fire?  There's was tons of smoke.  

10 years ago I called to my roommates, who for some odd reason didn't have a TV in the living room, and told them the tower was on fire.  It was a definitely a must watch moment.  I don't know if they were ignoring me or had other things to do, but as I sat in front of the TV on my bed I watched as the other tower was hit by a plane.  For a surprise attack, it was definitely well-documented.  The images of people falling and the towers crashing down are something you can't forget, no matter how hard you try.

Did you ever watch Signs with Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix?  There's a part where Phoenix is watching the alien sighting from Brazil being broadcast over the news and he's taken aback by the images.  I imagine that's what I did when I saw the tower get hit.  It was definitely surreal.

10 years ago I remember hearing a report that the Pentagon had been hit.  

I immediately busted out my cellphone and dialed Zora.  

No answer. 

I left a message and then called Gina.  

No answer.  

Last resort, I called Lil Chris.  

No answer.  

My sorority sisters and ex had gotten fabulous internships in DC and decided to room together.  Their house was located a couple blocks from the Pentagon.  Eventually, someone called back and let us know that everyone was okay and a little shaken up.

10 years ago after what felt like hours, it was said that all air traffic was halted and people were to proceed with caution.  I didn't want to get an absence, so I decided to head to class.  I was worried that Austin would be a target considering that President Bush had recently taken office and was the former Governor of Texas. I don't know why I thought Austin would be a worthy target, but I did.  I jumped on the bus and kept an eye on the sky in case I saw any activity.  Nothing.  In passing by the Capitol, the gates were barricaded by state troopers.  No one was getting in or out.  I finally got to class at Garrison Hall and Dr. Foley announced that due to the events of that morning class would be cancelled.  I don't think I attended any of my other classes that day, either.  The rest of the day is  a blur, but I do remember feeling uneasy, unsettled, and scared.

After those events, stuff changed. 

People changed.

The country changed.

And in a way, intelligence changed.

I don't mean reconnaissance; well it definitely did.

I mean ignorance skyrocketed. 

I remember being able to drive through the Capitol grounds to get to class.  Especially, if I was in a hurry, it helped to shave off a good five minutes.  Since September 11, 2001, only senators and representatives are able to drive on to the property.  I've also heard from photographers that taking pictures has become slightly more constricted due to worries of military and government intelligence.  

I remember there was a radio ban on certain songs.  o.O you ask?  The one that sticks out in my mind is Drowning Pool.  They had a pretty popular song the year before called "Bodies" and it was banned becos the song starts out:

     Let the bodies hit the floor.
     Let the bodies hit the floor.

     Let the bodies hit the floor.

     Let the bodies hit the...FLOOR!

Why is it that the Arts have to suffer in times of tragedy? If anything, it's a means of healing and coping. It's medicine for the soul. It just seems really backwards to me.

So what am I doing 10 years later?

September 11, 2011, at midnight, Maund and I, George and Kiera, and Maund's parents were huddled around the kitchen table talking about random things and enjoying BBQ, sweets, and drinks.  Earlier, my brother-in-law, Isaac, had passed out in his chair at the table.  As a drunk he has kick ass balance.  My sister-in-law was sprawled out in all her pregnant glory on the couch dozing in and out of sleep.  My kids were surrounding the table waiting for food scraps.

This morning I slept in till 09:00.  Once downstairs and connected to the internet, I realized that I had missed all the 9/11 coverage from the early morning.  I honestly forgot how early I would wake up for the class and that these events all happened before 10:00 10 years ago.

I think Maund and I are finally gonna tell his folks what's been going on with us and our losses.  Not to make them sad, but to include them more in our lives.  I already had the chance to tell  my parents the day after my birthday party, and honestly, a little weight was lifted off my shoulders when I did.  Maybe this is what we need for some closure.

For those who spent the night, we feasted on breakfast fare and no one mentioned 9/11.  I don't think anyone remembered and I didn't feel like bringing it up, either.  For the rest of the day I may read and write.  Also, no memory could be complete without talking to you. That's one thing that I'd like to remember when someone asks me, "So, what did you do 10 years after the tragedy of 9/11?" 

I talked to you. <3

l'apocalisse II

It appears that we’re on a bus and the person in charge of the tour group asks me to help him out.  I’m with my dad, who looks tired, so I ask him to sit down and rest.  There’s a black family that was sitting in the middle of the bus, but they all seem to pass out and I attempt to get them moved.  This bus is parked directly facing the front of a nice hotel on a main street, and next to a cheaper building.

Inside the cheaper building, the group I’m with has a whole floor and I assume we’re closer to the top of this building.  High enough to need an elevator.  The person in charge asks me to start handing out 2 forms.  One is agenda of the tour, the other is a map.  I hand them all out and I see that there are rooms that young adults are going in.  These are their dorm rooms. I had been placing the forms in their rooms.  I knock on one door and the guy takes the forms from me.  I walk down the hall and a group of 3 girls are walking in to their room.  I tell them, “Hey, we just caught wind that someone is planning on bombing the ------- Hotel across the street later, so we need to evacuate.”  I hand them the forms I was passing out and say, “If you’re gonna take a shower, make sure you hurry up becos we’re leaving soon!”  I could see that they were really sweaty, like one would be after a workout.  The next door I move on to is slightly ajar and when I open it, there’s another door behind it.  I thought it was a fake door and someone yells out, “That’s the vampire’s room. Just knock to see if he’s there.”  I knock and hear him yell back in a kind, jovial voice, “Hold on a minute,” and this tall brunette appears.  He invites me in and I repeat that we’re needing to evacuate becos of the supposed bombing.  I go to hand him a form, but I realize I’ve run out. He politely refuses and asks, “How do we know it’s true?  And do you think it’s really gonna reach us? We’re on the other side of the street.”  Suddenly, the room begins to tremble and I can see that we’re slowly moving downwards, but the room is still intact.  My instinct is to try to get out through the door, but it’s too late. I turn around to vampire boy and there’s a hole where he was standing.  I call out to him and hear that he’s still arguing on whether or not it’s necessary to evacuate!  After awhile I can’t hear him anymore.  The room starts to rotate and it’s a scene straight out of Wipeout!  I steady myself between three walls as the room rotates vertically, these walls are similar to dry wall and not so harsh.  The room finally stops rotating but I’ve lost 2 walls.  The ceiling and floor sandwich me in and I tell myself that I need to stay near an opening or brace/wedge myself between the two walls in a way that will not break my bones or cause me too much pain.  I can now see that I’m sinking past all these other levels until I stop again.  It’s a brightly lit room with plastic/iron school chairs stacked, like a storage room.  It’s white and I see an opportunity to get out.  I hesitate thinking it’s not the right floor to get out on, but I notice that the room is still sinking and there’s water starting to pool.  I rush to get out and the floor keeps on sinking.  I realize I would have drowned.  

I look up and the wall between the storage room and this warehouse area has been knocked down but there’s an opening to the building, kinda like a loading dock.  The floor is filling up with water so I high tail it out of there and that’s when I remember that earlier I had stepped on something harsh that hurt my foot.  Nothing bad, but definitely annoying.  As I’m stumbling through the water trying to get out there are random shoes.  I find a not so wet area and start trying out shoes.  The first one was too small.  The last vision I had was knelt down trying on shoes on my right foot, tying the laces and looking up at the arched doorway leading to the outside with the daylight waiting for me.  It was bittersweet to know I had survived.  I had survived.  And yet I was frightened to walk into that light becos I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I was afraid.  And there was an eeriness that it might be the beginning of the Apocalypse.

Earlier in the dream, my husband and I are looking for properties.  I remember meeting a 20-something blonde guy at a hotel bar who promised to show us his father’s property.  When pulling up to the house you see a large 2-story home on a corner lot.  From the outside he shows us where the master bedroom is located and it’s gorgeous balcony.  The floor level has 2 bedrooms next to each other, but they each are 2 story and have access to their own balconies.  To the right of the house is a small driveway and a 2 car garage, and to the left of the house, under the master bedroom there’s a great deck painted brown.  I start to sand the deck and notice that the wood grain is absolutely beautiful.  There’s a camera crew filming a woman talking about how she had seen the house before, but didn’t think it was so great becos of a $30,000 price difference “but I’ll keep it on my maybe list.”  The show was Property Virgins or My First Place on HGTV.  I say to the guy showing us around, “You must have had some awesome family get-togethers out here!”  He looks at me and gives me a half grin.  He then walks us around the back of the house into a mudroom, which opens up to a galley style kitchen and breakfast nook.  We’re then greeted by his dad who is cooking up lunch and 3 excited dogs.  As we venture further into the house we see that the breakfast nook opens up to the living room.  It’s gorgeous and I get a feeling that we’re putting in an offer. 

The guy showing us around looks exactly like Alex Pettyfer from the movie Beastly. He seems very detached, quiet, with a nothing-to-lose attitude. We make small talk with him, but I don’t remember what it was about.  But in a sequence of flashes I see him at the top of a building doing a swan dive, with the building behind him bursting into puffs of gray, yellow, and orange.  As he’s falling I can see that the building is a hotel that I’m familiar with. 

_________________________________________

I dreamt this on August 14, 2011.  I can’t remember what happened in between the house scene and the bus scene, but like so many other dreams, it felt somewhat real.  It must have been set in a larger city with large apartment-type buildings like NYC or Chicago.  I also had an overwhelming urge to cry when I woke up, but I fought back the impulse.

è scritto

 مكتوب 

mio zio

April 14, 1946 - August 19, 2011

Tomorrow I pay my respects to my Tio Nene.  It takes just under 3 hours to drive to Uvalde, TX and we will be passing through Sabinal.  Oh, how I dread driving through there.  Call it a love/hate relationship, and right now we're broken up and have been for a long time.

The last time I was in Uvalde for a funeral was when my high school sweetheart's father passed away in December 1998.  It'll be the same funeral home, too.  My cousin Lisa said it would be a Catholic mass and we joked about all the physical exertion required during these events.  The standing and sitting, then standing and kneeling, then standing and...well you get the pix.  It's almost like doing holy lunges, which shouldn't hurt as much becos you got you-know-who leading the training.

I saw a video memorial for Tio today and it made me really think about all the time I spent with him.  My absolute favorite memory was visiting Lost Maples with Tio, Tia, Patty and Chiquita.  I must have been 7 or 8 yrs old and had never been there before.  I begged my folks to let me spend the night with Patty the day before and they planned the little hiking trip and round trip to Sabinal to drop me off.  When we took off from Uvalde to Concan, it was a regular drive.  There wasn't anything too exciting about it, until we took a road I had never been on before.  It was windy and the trees were green and and tall and beautiful.  Or maybe it just seemed that way becos it was new.  I remember driving on the side of the hill and thinking we were gonna fall off.  When we got to Lost Maples, we registered and the park ranger asked me and Patty if we wanted to win a prize.  I can just see our eyes light up and agree to the conditions without even knowing what they were.  He gave us each a plastic gift bag with the "Don't Mess With Texas" slogan on both sides and said we had to fill them up with any trash we saw.  At the end of the hike we would turn in what we found and we'd get the prize, which still remained a mystery. We accepted the challenge and were ready for a hike.  I remember how we fought so badly for each scrap of trash we found.  I remember Tio and Tia enjoying the hike.  I remember the streams filled with clean, fresh water inhabited by minnows, fish, all kinds of wildlife! I remember Chiquita getting tired and napping in the shade of a tree along the trail.  Everytime we reached her tree, she would run ahead searching for another spot to lie down until we reached her.  I didn't have to have that much interaction with Tio, but his presence was enough.  He was always the big burly guy and you just always felt safe.

At the end of the hike we went back to the ranger station, bags bursting at the seams, ready to collect our prizes.  We were proudly presented with 2 large, shiny "Don't Mess With Texas" buttons.  I remember feeling kinda bummed, but still proud of my prize.  Only recently did I realize Patty and I were free Mexican child labor. But I wouldn't trade that memory for the world!

Tio was also the one to teach me how to swim under water.  I remember Patty and I wading in the river at Garner State Park around 07:00 or 08:00, listening to Tio instruct us how NOT to breathe underwater.  He taught us in small increments and by lunch time we were pruney, had bloodshot eyes, but guess what, we knew how to swim underwater.  We always, Always, ALWAYS woke up early to get to Garner early to get the good spots.  Then we'd just camp out ALL day.  I miss those times.  I think those were my happiest: at Garner State Park, my family, Patty's family, Sandy's family, BBQ, swimming from sunrise to sunset.  

Why do ham and cheese sandwiches taste so good when you're in the water or have been in there all day???

desideri e domande

Here I am.  The eve of my 30th birthday and I feel like a failure.

I'm having a 3/4 of a mid-life crisis, which is funny becos nowadays people go through mid mid-life crisis. I guess mine just didn't hit me till now.  

I went to bed last night overthinking, overanalyzing my birthday.  At Thanksgiving, I had made it clear that for my 30th birthday I wanted a dinner with my closest friends and family.  My birthday would also have to...HAVE TO...include mariachis in a charismatically lit backyard serenading the guests and myself.   I even wanted my husband's family there.  Come Christmastime, I had reiterated my desire for a dinner and mariachis.  At Maund's cousin's wedding there were mariachis who went from table to table taking requests and AGAIN I expressed my birthday plan.  

So imagine my surprise when my husband approached me Monday, August 1, 2011, asking what I wanted to do for my birthday.  Three days before my birthday!  I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty sure that a tiny piece of my heart died at that moment.  That's an intense thing to say, right? I know, but I've noticed that this year has caused that to happen in me.  I do my best not to let things get to me, but I feel that I try so hard to please other people that I expect the same from them.  I have such high expectations and when they don't follow through I take it personally.  It hurts.  This experience felt like cramming for a test.  You've had all this time to thoroughly prepare for the SATs, but instead you procrastinate until the week of the exam and say, "Well, we could hav a BBQ and invite some people." What does that do? A BBQ is not a 1400 test score.  A BBQ is the credit you get for bubbling in your name on the score sheet. I plan all of my birthdays.  I plan events for other friends.  I help in the orchestration of other events.  I cook Thanksgiving meals.  I cook Christmas meals.  I plan Easter holidays. I bake birthday cakes and attempt to decorate them with other than frosting to coat them.  I wanted someone to care for me.  I wanted someone to say, "I know you've had possibly the worst year of your life, so far.  From Aug 2010 to now, not only have you experienced change, but you've had to endure many losses.  Neither loss is greater than the other, but each loss equally as painful. Let's celebrate you and start a new year with hope and joy."  I want to have a happy event.  I didn't want a consolation prize.  I wanted a well thought out plan.

I look back and think about what I've written and it sounds selfish.  I'm a Leo.  It's in my nature to want to be the center of attention, but that's not really me.  I have a tendency to want to take care of other people.  I have a tendency to protect others.  So maybe this is the selfish, self-centered side coming out in this entry.

This was the kind of toy I got for my birthday.

I started thinking about my childhood and realized that I never had a birthday party.  You're probably wondering, "how is that possible?" or "c'mon, everyone has parties!" Nope.  I have a picture of my 3rd or 4th birthday.  My mom had bought me a new shirt and had baked a cake.  In the picture, there is a Cabbage Patch Kids Talking Phone next to me and my cake as I'm about to blow out the candles.  I remember that day becos I got chocolate frosting all over my shirt and got upset.

I'm guessing that my other birthdays were like that, but I can't remember any of them.  There was never a planned party at McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or Chuck E. Cheese.  There were never house parties with nifty party favors or cartoon themed plates, cups, napkin.  It wasn't until my 18th birthday that a couple of people took notice of the lack of celebration. Barbara, my hometown bestfriend, knew that my family wasn't as well off as hers, but she never ceased to surprise me.  She never missed a birthday or grand event.  For my 18th birthday, she showed up at my door and presented me with a little gift.  She then kidnapped me and said that becos I was now 'legal' it was my mission to buy a pack of cigarettes and porn.  Those were the rights bestowed upon me as an American and that's what we did.  Later that day, I called over to the Garcia's house to see who wanted to hang out.  Wilbur and Bern were brothers and the sons of my Spanish teacher.  We had gotten close and hung out just about every single day that summer.  We played guitars, they taught me chords, they schooled me on classic rock and singer/songwriters from the 60s and 70s, how to exercise, play sports, run, tried to teach me how to cook.  They were only 4 and 6 years older than I was, but we connected on so many levels and I learned a lot from those two.  Bern picked up and mentioned he had just gotten out of work.  Since we were "new" friends, the brothers didn't know when my birthday was, nor did I know theirs. We chatted for awhile and he asked me what I did that day.  I mentioned that Barbara had taken me to go buy cigarettes and porn and he laughed.  He got quiet for a moment and then asked if it was my birthday.  I acknowledge that today was indeed my 18th and he asked what I was doing to celebrate.  Bern wasn't satisfied with my response and said, "I'd like to take you out. Get dressed! Get ready! We're going to the Riverwalk!"  That was the thing to do, go celebrate in San Anto' which is an hour away.  I had so much fun that night.  I got wined and dined and treated important.  Well, not exactly, maybe soda'd and dined would be a better term.  It was a great night and a nice ending to what would have otherwise been a disastrous birthday.

Since then, I try to plan events for my birthdays. Dinner with friends, drinks, maybe go to a club.  Maybe that's why I was hoping that this one would be different.  That someone would want to take care of me.

I thought about all of this as I was trying to go to sleep.  I started crying silently in the dark and it was a little difficult to stop, but through all of that, I never once woke up my husband.  This got me thinking about other things. The night before I had finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and I wondered if I had given up on my own Personal Legend?  When I was younger I had many dreams that I thought I would fulfill.  I never had a time frame, but these were things that I wanted to do.  Now that I'm 3/4 of the way to the halfway mark of my lifespan, it scares me.  What do I have to show for this?  I graduated high school.  I graduated from university.  I lived in Italy. I worked for a non-profit. I'm married.  I have a house and mortgage.  We own 2 cars and will be done paying off a 3rd soon.  We have a cat and 2 dogs.  That seems like a lot, but I want more.  And I felt like the shittiest person in the world becos when I think about my dreams and fantasies, I'm always alone.  I never see my husband in these visions.  I had toyed with the idea of skydiving for our wedding anniversary and found out before booking that Maund is scared of heights.  How did I not know that?  In all the time that I've known him, I just found this out last year.  One dream I have is hiking through the Dolomites and when I close my eyes to envision it, he's not there.  When I was younger, I wanted to be an epidemiologist, but that would require more schooling.  In honing my skills, I realized that I wanted to become a Foreign Services Officer, but to really be considered for a position I would need my masters degree.  And really, that's probably the minimum requirement.  So I definitely need to go back to school and practice my languages more.  Maybe even learn 2 or 3 more.  But even in this dream, I'm by myself. 

Is he holding me back? Or better yet, do I want an excuse so that I don't have to take credit for not fulfilling my Personal Legend?  I would have no one to blame but myself.  Do I still have time to fulfill my Personal Legend or is it too late? I assume I need to do this on my own.  It's a personal journey, but how do I realize my dream when I'm attached to someone else?  And not just someone else, but a complete life which includes hundreds of possessions, a mortgage, and furry friends.  

I would love to find a genie in a lamp.  I could make a couple of changes.

Or better yet, turn back time to one significant moment and change it.  I thought about this last night and I know what that moment would be.  I would go back to the 6th grade and forget about my crush on Colin.  I think that would have changed things dramatically.  It would have saved me a lot of grief growing up in a small town.

I feel awful for having these thoughts.  I feel disgusted for asking these questions.  Honestly, this is the only forum where I can get these thoughts out.  But my biggest fear is that now that I've asked these questions, do I need to answer them or do I continue with life as I know it, ignoring the desires of my heart?  Am I too afraid of answering these questions?

malinconica

16 & Pregnant and Teen Mom are just a couple of my guilty pleasures.  I HEART reality TV! Last night was 16 & Pregnant: Adoption Special and I was stoked becos earlier I had spent a little over 4 hours in an Adoption Resources training for work.  It's interesting that in all the seasons of these shows, only 3 cast members had chosen adoption.  One cast member had a scheduling conflict and wasn't on the show and the two that did attend were on different ends of the spectrum.  I mean, there was one girl who was completely confident that she made the right decision and takes pride in the fact that her daughter is with a great couple.  The other girl stated that she regret her decision and wondered why no one stopped her and goes on to ask if no one thought she could do it by herself?  Well...she chose to do a kin adoption and a month after relinquishing her rights she calls her aunt and uncle and asks for the baby back.  She then goes on to care for the baby for a minute and gives her back to the aunt and uncle.  It goes to show that a teen can't understand that permanency is best for a baby.

But in watching this special it was heartbreaking to see that these girls were experiencing such a grief at such a young age.  Another section of the special showed how there is a support group for teen mothers who have chosen adoption.  It got me thinking and I started doing a search for support groups here in Austin for myself.  I figured a good resource was The Bump since it covers all aspects of pregnancy.  What I didn't consider was that the last time I had visited this site was when I was pregnant.  So when I logged on I was greeted with a message in happy, obnoxious writing exclaiming "YOU'RE 22 WEEKS PREGNANT!"  I about lost it. I immediately edited my profile and made a couple of changes to memorialize this loss. 

I had trouble getting to sleep and when I decided to go to bed I ended up crying into my favorite pillow.  I didn't want to wake my husband, plus he was already annoyed with work that he had brought home.  Seriously annoyed would be a better term.  I hate when he gets into these moods.

I feel alone. I know I'm not, but I can't help but feel so lonely.

nervosa e più arrabbiata II

I called Dr. K's office on Monday to inquire more about the surgery.  The way things work is I call and leave a question for the doctor and someone calls me back with his response.  After thinking things over I decided that the surgery would be the best option and could increase my chances of continuing a pregnancy.  I'm still scared.  Not so much about the surgery, but about feeling vulnerable again. 

I spent the whole day just playing music, sun bathing at Barton Springs, playing with the dogs.  Honestly, I did anything I could do to keep myself from twiddling my thumbs and contemplating worst case scenarios. At the end of a busy work day I get a call from Dr. K's office.  The receptionist informed me that I am to call and schedule my pre-op visit and surgery between Day 6-10 of my next cycle.  I chuckled.  Then I realized that she sounded confused becos she wasn't aware of my history.  I blurted out, "What if I don't have normal periods?" She definitely didn't know how to answer my question and I knew the answer.  You don't get a normal period, then you're gonna be waiting a long fucking time for this surgery.  She suggested that if I don't get a period next month to call back and see what else we could do.  I assume Provera, but who knows.

Did Dr. K not hear me when I said I was eager to do this?  Am I too eager?  Is there something I'm not seeing?  I'm just come out and say it...

I want a baby...

NOW!

Maybe this won't be such a bad thing, right? I could pay off some bills and start saving up more money, huh? I should look for another job, huh?  I could pawn or sell some stuff, huh?  I need guidance.  I need someone to show me or tell me what to do.  Ah, I'm just playing the victim. I know what I need to do, I just wish I didn't have to.

le cose semplice

nervosa e più arrabbiata

I was nervous going to see Dr. K Wednesday morning.  I had a 09:00 appointment to consult on our plan of action.  Dr. K mentioned that most consider one miscarriage a fluke, but when you have 2 in a row, you need to consider all your causes. 

1. Hormonal imbalance - if I was lacking the necessary hormones, I would be put on vaginal medication supplemented with a baby aspirin to help blood flow. 

2. Poor cell division - plain and simple...shit happens.

3. Environment/Lifestyle - hazardous environment, crazy heroin-chic lifestyle...not the case

4. Uterine abnormalities - fibroid, cysts, polyp, septum...surgical removal increases chances of fertility.

Last time we spoke, he mentioned performing a Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) or Saline Infusion Sonogram (SIS).  The HSG is performed at a radiology center by injecting a contrast dye into the uterus.  It's supposed to give a good view not only of the uterus, but also the fallopian tubes.  The SIS is performed in the office by injecting sterile saline into the uterus and, at the same time, performing an ultrasound. The saline shows up as a black area in the sonogram and allows the doctor to view any abnormalities through that contrast.  And yesterday Dr. K made a good argument.  He said, "I would hate to start the process again and have another miscarriage knowing that it could have been prevented."

I went into this consult not knowing what to expect.  I thought he would sit me down and warn me about  another miscarriage and then prescribe Clomid again. That didn't happen.  I was antsy and blurted out, "Do you have time to do the SIS today? I have the day off and I don't mind waiting all day or leaving and coming back. My only concern is cost becos I now have a high deductible plan and I'm pretty sure they won't cover infertility."  I could see that he was speechless.  He asked if I needed to think about things and he didn't want to pressure me into any procedure. I told him I was eager to get started and that if this test would help me, us, go into this next pregnancy with a clear mind, then it was necessary.

He stepped out of the room and his mom came in to discuss finances.  Just as I suspected, my insurance didn't offer any coverage and I would have to pay the private pay fee of $450.  I was ready to pay it, but my first thought was, "I could have a first trimester abortion with IV sedation for the same cost as this ultrasound!" Once I laughed it off (in my mind) his mom discussed that since our doctors were good friends and since a close friend of theirs referred me that I would be getting a discount.  I was ever so grateful and hugged her and by now it was 10:00.  I waited in the lobby for 30 mins, but I could see that more and more patients were showing up for their appointments.  The receptionist asked if I could come back at 13:30 for the SIS.  I said sure and went home to eat some lunch.  

This whole time, Maund had called in sick to work and was nice enough to take my car in for it's inspection...2 months overdue, hehehe. At home I briefed him on the consult and told him about the ultrasound at 13:30.  He offered to come with and I declined.  I was told I could drive myself home.  I decided to take 800mg of Ibuprofen at 12:45 and hoped for the best.  

I arrived 10 mins early, just to be on the safe side and was put into an exam room to undress from the waist down.  I waited a little until Dr. K and his assistant came in.  I lied down on the exam table and had to sit my bottom near the edge.  He inserted the speculum, which was surprisingly uncomfortable, and that discomfort was unusual for me.  I never have any issues, but that day I guess I did.  Once the speculum was in and open he placed some betadine at the cervix along with a tiny balloon slash catheter.   After that was in place he removed the speculum and then inserted the ultrasound probe.  That's when the real fun began.  He started to inject the saline into my uterus and I felt some mild cramping.  It took all of 5 mins, but towards the end the cramping became moderate.  The whole time I kept on visualizing someone filling up a water balloon.  My uterus was a balloon getting inflated with water, except this balloon had nerves and a mind of its own and didn't want to inflate.  When it was all over, I sat up and had a waterfall coming out of my vagina.  Even before we began I asked, "So you're putting water in my uterus.  Are you gonna take it out?"  He chuckled and mentioned that some of the saline would absorb into the body if it escaped through the fallopian tubes, but the rest would drain afterwards and residual saline would also leak for the next day or two.  

Dr. K and the assistant stepped out for a moment to let me get dressed and he came back to discuss the findings.  What he showed me was not what I was expecting.  I assumed my issues stemmed from some kind of hormone deficiency, not a mass in my uterus.  He showed me 3 uterine/endometrial polyps. Two were small and barely noticeable, then he showed me the one prominent polyp.  He explained that most polyps were benign and rarely cancerous, but if removed we would send a sample out for testing.  I wasn't too familiar with polyps so I asked what it was.  Was it a mass of tissue or more like a cyst filled with liquid? How do we get rid of them? Medications? Surgery? Once removed, will they grow back?  Have there been women who successfully carry a pregnancy with polyps? 

Yes, it's a mass. If cancerous, a hysterectomy is performed. To remove polyps he suggests surgery, not a  D&C, but an outpatient day surgery under general anesthesia.  From what I understood, he would lasso the polyp and slice it off.  I pictured a tiny lasso made of piano wire.  I would be completely under and return to work the following day.  My restrictions would include nothing inserted vaginally for 2 weeks, then we could start medications and attempt conceiving once again.  Dr. K mentioned that the removal would increase my chances of a successful pregnancy.  He said, "I don't worry you won't get pregnant, we just need to keep you pregnant."

All this was just the consult and test.  I cried a little during the consult.  I cried a little during the results.  I now had to think about Dr. K's fees, facility fees, anesthesiologist fees.  What ball park am I looking at? $2,700 or more like $22,000? The ambulatory/surgical center gave me an estimate of ~$3,300, Dr. K said ~$1,400 but his mom said she would give me a discount, now I have to check with the anesthesiologist. 

The other option is to take Clomid anyway and hope that I don't miscarry again.  But even with the surgery there's no guarantee that I won't miscarry.  There's no guarantee that I won't have to do the surgery again.  Most women who experience polyps are in their 40s and 50s.  I know I joke that I'm an old woman, but this really takes the cake! 

I sobbed all the way home.  I sobbed when I saw my husband.  I sobbed for a good part of the afternoon until I cried myself to sleep.  I woke up shortly and watched TV and started feeling not so defeated and then dozed off again.  I woke up to Maund's phone ringing and all I heard was, "nothing, just watching TV...*silence*...tabrik," and he got up and walked out the back door.  I picked my head up and stared at the back door.  I waited awhile for him to come in and when he did he refused to look at me.  I asked, "what's up?" He said Ang, his sister, had called.  He hesitated badly and said, "I guess she's 8 weeks pregnant." I held it together as long as I could, but it was no use.  I cried and cried.  I was so angry! I saw red and other crazy colors. I eventually calmed down and called her back to tell her congrats, but she didn't pick up.

After awhile of over-thinking I got mad becos I just partied with her on Friday and she didn't say a goddamn thing!  If she had told me any other day prior to Wed, I would have been fine.  Why did she wait for the one day when I find out that my struggle to have a baby that began in 2008 still has no end in sight?!?!?! And why does she get to have the Feb/Mar/Apr baby I have been dying to have?  She knew very well that May/Jun/Jul were my target conception months!  

I'M JUST SO ANGRY! Am I such a shitty person that this keeps on happening? Why? What did I do? What lesson am I supposed to learn?  Is this survival of the fittest? Are my genes not supposed to live on? I don't get it!!! What's the point? I told Maund I wanted a divorce.  I told him it would be best.  He could find someone with better genes and continue his legacy.  I told him it would probably be cheaper in the long run to adopt or be okay with the idea of being the spinster aunt and uncle.  I told him I didn't want a baby anymore.

He smiled and hugged me and said divorce was outta the question.  He said he wanted a baby with me and knew that so did I. He said adoption was way too expensive and didn't care if he had to apply for more credit cards or a loan or borrow against the house in order to have this surgery.  He said, "MAN UP! We're gonna have a baby, you just have to be optimistic!"

I just hate to be dependent on credit.  I wanted to pay down my debt and get a new car and then help my husband pay down his card. I don't want to delay things any more and it feels like a gigantic clock is ticking away the seconds.  Going along with Maund's advice and the macho theme, I guess if we're gonna do this, we're going balls out. There's no other way.