Friends Don't Let Friends Tranq. and Blog

Well.

Sorry for spewing like that. It was a rough night and apparently I had a lot on my mind.

I'm still having trouble articulating what's in my head. Some of it is grief, some depression, some anxiety. Thinking about starting school again next week. I actually am a lot more functional (if domestically lazy) than I was, and I'm hoping that being at school and being focused will help alleviate some of my anxiety. Nothing like diving in to my field of study. I hope.

I'm a lot less weepy than I've been. I would think it's kind of like being numb, or maybe paralyzed. I'm not *as* weighed down with grief as I was, but I feel no motion. Little strength. Perhaps it's just getting back in the habit of life again.

Which leads to a whole other set of issues (Me/NotMe), integrating who I was with whom (?) I'm becoming. Figuring out how this part of my life fits into my future. What I care about, what I want. What I can handle. What I want to put up with. I still get that sort of... reflex, whenever I get involved in something. It's not that I feel guilty about being engaged in life, I don't think. It's more like, oh yeah, this is who I am, how does this fit? Or something. It's like I'm drawn to thinking about my boys, about the horrible experiences of the past six months, about my pregnancy. The big picture part of me says, though "who cares?" This is not important like that was. And yet, it is important. I am not my loss, not my dead sons, not my failed pregnancy. But who am I?

As many blogg.ers have said, I am aware that when I behave "normally," I wonder how I am perceived. I don't want people to think I'm "over"it. I want them to respect and acknowledge the magnitude and traumatic nature of our loss. That's why I was so pissy about that birth announcement on the office window. I guess it has to do with people forgetting them. My own issues are right there on top of it, because I have always feared being alone and forgotten (yes, I'm a middle child).

I got the name of some local therapists who may have some experience with trauma and/or traumatic loss, or who may be able to refer me to someone who is. Probably a good idea for me to go, as, even though I love my shrink, this feels very different from the stuff we've dealt with. I've made some progress with some of the physicality of the trauma, but I certainly still need help with this. And I was putting together records for (potential) consults, but that's come to a screeching halt, because just looking at the dates makes me kinda panicky. I have made no phone calls, no lists. Even doing research on ce.rclages and pp.rom makes me sweat.

However.

I am beginning to think about the prospect of more children, another pregnancy, though I have this fantasy that it would happen accidentally. My tests all came back normal, though my FSH has jumped a bit. The nurse tells me this is normal for someone my age (at 35 it was 6, at 36 it was 6, at almost 38 it is 8.8). There are no indications of PCOS for the first time since I was 26, at least according to my Day 2 hormones 12 days ago. We have other issues, so the possibility of an oops is very small. And of course the fantasy leaves no room for the boatload of issues another pregnancy would stir up.

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And finally, it seems, we do have some good news. C has handed in his dissertation and will defend it in a week, just a couple months shy of 5 years after we moved here. He's worked so hard. I'm so proud of him, I can't even articulate it. Especially considering everything that happened in the last year. Of course, though, I have known that he could do this since the first time he talked about it when we were first dating. And I have known that he *would* do it, and do it well since he started his program.

The icing on the cake? He has been offered and has accepted a visiting assistant professor position in his department for the next year. He will be part of the faculty, he'll teach several classes, do research. It's a real job. With benefits. Hallelujah. I am so proud of him.

And it's so odd to even have something good to talk about. Not just not bad news, but good news. We are always knocking on wood. Just like we did last fall. I guess I am on guard, still, but trusting, hoping, that it will work out.

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Well, I go a few days without posting and look what happens. Loooooong, rambling, redundant posts. Thanks for reading this far, and thanks for coming back.