Vulnerability and Friendship

I'm on some weird meds right now.  Don't ask.

But they make me stop and think about things from a little different perspective.  I get mushy and affectionate and have a desire to tell people how much they mean to me.  I was thinking, today, about what my New Years Resolution should be, if I have one at all.  I don't normally have one, or I do just a general "work out more" or "take more time to read", or something of the like.

But I realized that I want to have friends, and to be a friend to people, but something always holds me back.  I know that I'm an introvert who isn't great at just going up to people and making friends.  But it's more than that.  There is something there, something I have not thought about very much.  And today, while on these weird meds, I've been thinking about it.

I am terrified of rejection.
Great fear for an actress, right?
But really.  I realize that I have had this my entire life.  In junior high I was friends with several good girls.  As girls do, someone invariably will betray or stab someone else in the back emotionally.  It happened (happened in a sketchy, abusive way that my school covered up.  Maybe that's another vulnerable post for another day).  In high school I had this major inferiority complex.  I remember looking at other people and thinking "they have something that I haven't got...that I won't get...that I don't even understand".  I thought these people were worlds above me.

I really didn't have a firm grasp of reality.  This can happen when you have a Borderline parent who changes the rules; moves the goalposts.  Or makes you doubt what is real, in a very literal sense.  It's what we know as gaslighting - when someone makes you feel crazy for the things they are doing.  I tried very hard to make sense of this world in which I lived.  I didn't do very well, and retreated into mental fantasy as only a teenage girl can.  I was into musicals and plays, operas, Shakespeare, art...Europe...all fantasy versions of these things were I made a palace in my mind.  A place I knew how things worked and what were the rules.  I knew what was expected of me, and who I was.

But I didn't know who I was, especially when I got to college.  The world was so different to me, and I was terrified.  I'd never been around drinking or sex or danger.  My college was in a bad part of town.  There were vagrants and sometimes murders.  There was normal sex and degeneracy happening around me.  I was terrified.  I rarely left my room.  I retreated into fantasy, again.  I had a few friends but not ones I spent much time with.  When I transferred to a new school...the Christian university, I expected things to be better.  They weren't.

I was so alone.  I was so angry.  My parents got separated and divorced while I was in college, and my world shattered.  If I had thought that I was confused before that, I was blissfully unaware of the level of confusion that comes from divorce.  I retreated into fantasy again, but this time a darker version.  I got into things I shouldn't.  I spent way too much time online and in chat rooms.  I wanted friends so badly, but I was burned and rejected by people at my Christian university.  No one "got" me.  I was angry that no one reached out when I was hurting, so I pushed people away even more.  It was a very lonely, angry time.

I also had no idea till recently that I suffer from anxiety.  I thought everyone was nervous all the time like I was.  I wanted things to go well, to not walk funny or say anything weird.  I seldom felt at ease.  I was uptight and put up walls to protect myself from failure, and this doesn't make friends.

(Man, am I really writing a post about how I had no friends?  Lol...)

Anyway, I think I'm doing much better now, as far as anxiety goes.
But have two miscarriages and you will realize that you can't retreat into fantasy forever.  You need connection with real people.  You need human warm.  I have the best husband in the history of the world, but I need friends as well.

But there's that...thing again.  That fear of messing up.  Fear of someone seeing me cry.  Worry that things will be weird.   Worry that I'll be stabbed in the back again by a Christian friend.  I'm afraid of being known.  Being an introvert, I'm not good at small talk.  Do people want to talk about Victorian corsets and why the TSA is a terrible organization?  Or why Anglican Chant is amazing for psalms?  Naw, they want to talk about TV shows, right?

Who knows?

I will TRY my best to be available, vulnerable, and fun.
Maybe have some confidence in myself.  Maybe believe people when they tell me I'm funny and that they actually like being around me.  Maybe I'm not so bad after all.  Maybe the childhood parent voice saying "you're not good enough" should retire in 2020.  Or maybe it's my job to make this happen.

I'm saying that I want to try.

Blogilates 2020 Challenge Day 1

I am taking on this challenge to start the new year, even though I'm going through a miscarriage right now...these are easy workouts and I just want to stay moving.  I would love for you to join me!  Here is the graphic:

The challenge is 20 days and is only two moves per day.  It's pretty easy and should be short and sweet.  I will be making my own videos, but Cassey's video on Day 1-7 is here...

Day 1-7 #2020Challenge 


Here is my Day 1 Video!
No makeup, no workout clothes...messed up the reps, but who cares?  Jump right on in with me and get moving to start the year right!

This isn't how I wanted to announce this

I've been keeping this (mostly) to myself, because I'm a fairly logical person.  Logical and conventional...boring, traditional.  You know the type.

Apparently, you aren't supposed to announce your pregnancy till the 2nd trimester.  And for good reason.  I remember seeing someone's play-by-play of having a miscarriage on Facebook and being shocked (not in a good way).  Like overkill shocked.  Like I didn't want to know all that.  Makes sense, even though most people are nicer than me and wouldn't think that.  Maybe.

But guys, I'm there again.  I'm pregnant, again.  I have known for over a month.  I was so happy.  We were so happy.  I was overjoyed and there were no miscarriage symptoms.  I've just been gaining weight, having super human smell, sore breasts, and a hard time keeping my breath when I work out or climb stairs.

Cue the first ultrasound at 6 weeks.  I have no idea why we went in this early, but we did.
And the tech's face fell.  He was pretty much like "Oh my gosh...it's SO small".
This apparently happens sometimes when you are not as far along as you thought.  But I track my cycle, I know exactly when I ovulated, and it doesn't make sense to be that far off.

So they tell us to come back in a week for another ultrasound which will show if things are viable or not.  And the baby has grown! It's grown, but not enough.  And now they see two.  Twins.
Two tiny little gestational sacs, but no embryos yet.  This far along we should see something.  But I have to come back in another week.

So two weeks of waiting limbo...two weeks of not knowing if I'm going to actually be a mom this time.  Taking my vitamins and avoiding everything I'm supposed to avoid.  And not telling people I'm pregnant, because you aren't supposed to do that.

And suddenly, it's tomorrow.  I'm going in tomorrow to see if my little twin babies are going to make it.  I can't tell you how much anxiety and depression I'm feeling right now.  Part of me doesn't want to know at all...just to go along with the pregnancy and hope for the best.  I don't even know what compels me to write this other than I'm so scared that these babies will pass away and no one will ever know they existed.

I don't understand any of this.
I am sad and scared.
I don't want to lose not one, but two babies this time.
This isn't fair.
Life isn't fair.
No one said it was supposed to be...but it's so hard to see pregnant women lumbering around so easily.  With other kids in tow...and here's me...not even showing yet, and terrified I won't be pregnant much longer.

God have mercy on me.  If you can spare a prayer for me, please do.  I'm a mess.

Waiting and Watching

...That's what Advent is all about, right?

And that's where I am these days.  I have a lot going on and a lot to say, but I'm holding back for now.  Please pray for me if you get a chance.  God knows why.

It's a lovely, lazy Saturday here at our cozy little home.  I'm so happy to be here with my hubby.  We are still in our pajamas, playing games and watching movies.  It's idyllic. 

Someone needs to do the housework, eventually.

My miscarriage

I've started to write this post multiple times, and each time I've hit a mental roadblock.  In things like this it's some times best to just say it and not try to be wordy or clever.  So here it is:

I've had a miscarriage.

Why do I feel the need to publically say this?  I have always felt a little iffy toward people who share this very private sad thing with the world, almost as if it's too intimate let it out to non-family and close friends.  So why am I now doing it?

Because I had no idea how hard this early miscarriage would hit me, and how alone I would feel.  I don't have a huge support system, especially in the summer when I'm not working.  I have my precious husband and very close family and a few friends, but that's all.  I've been comforted with things when sharing it which have been very comforting and helpful.  I've also been told some unhelpful things, such as "lots of people have this happen to them", "you should smile, because God wants you to be happy".  But mostly it's deafening silence and loneliness. 

My pregnancy wasn't very far along, at all,  but it was still my baby.  It was still a life.  It was still a child I will never get to hold.  This was my first pregnancy.  The roller coaster of that first few days of elation when finding out, only to be crushed with worry and then utter heartbreak later.

I am very depressed, especially since my husband went back to work the day after the miscarriage occured.  I am still home for two weeks before I start teaching again.  I am trying so hard to stay busy and get things done, but I'm having a hard time.  I'm very hopeful that I will get pregnant again, since this was so soon after my surgery.  But there's always that fear: that nagging feeling that this was the only time and that I'll never have a child. 

I've placed myself in Jesus' hands and He has never let me down. 
If you please could say a prayer for me, I would much appreciate it. 

My little saint in Heaven - Aug 3rd, 2019

Operating Table Opera

Funny story!





I had day surgery yesterday. I alerted the anesthesiologist ahead of time that I am a professional singer and intubation was not an option for me. He agreed to use an LMA so no harm would come to my vocal cords. The downside to telling him about being a singer was that when I was wheeled into the operating room, the entire team was asking me to sing something. Ordinarily I would have declined, but I'd already had an IV full of Propofol and Versed, so I was high as a kite. I burst into "O Mio Babbino Caro" right there on the operating table, but I was displeased with my sound and started explaining that I wasn't warmed up, but as soon as I tried to explain, a mask with delicious gas was placed over my face, and I was gone.


Anesthesia is a strange and wonderful thing. I am so thankful for modern medicine, and for medical staff who must be thoroughly entertained on a daily basis.

A New Day

I've had some down days this week.  It's really been a whirlwind.  I have thought a lot about how open or not open I want to be in our TTC journey (I really hate the word "journey" sometimes, as it's applied to every single thing in life in peoplespeak).  But hey, we've been married just over a year, trying to have a baby, and I'm old.

So I have had blood tests and pills and sonograms and shots, and this month I thought I was pregnant.  I even got a positive test.  Then a negative test the next day.  I thought I was having a chemical pregnancy (very early miscarriage) and was devastated.  But the blood test and doctor said I wasn't.  I'm still confused about this. 

That was all 3 days ago, and I'm just now rebounding from it.  My sweet husband has been all kinds of sweet and strong.  He came to rehearsal with me last night and just sat and read a book next to me so I could have him there.  I love him.

Today I feel much better.  I am out to conquer the world, as soon as I get out of bed.  I have two sweet doggies next to me.  I'm out of school for the summer.  Depression isn't hitting me as hard today as it has the past few days.  I'm okay with not being pregnant, and I marked this by having a glass of wine last night.  I have been cleaning my house and working on a quilt and a few various other projects around the house.  Getting to have that little bit of caffeine in the morning feels amazing. 

Let's have a good day, okay?