July 7, 2015
If you follow me on twitter then you know I’ve been tweeting about my bizarre dreams lately. Ordinarily I don’t remember my dreams. But I’ve been on an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety med for the past few months and those always make my dreams weird and memorable. Here are some tidbits from last night because it’s too much for 140 characters. There were multiple dreams so some of these are connected and some are not.
I somehow ended up on the telephone with a Hillary staffer after getting a 404 (page cannot be found) on her website while searching for the word “research.”
FIL, Momz and Tiger Woods all made an appearance.
FIL picked up a waitress in a restaurant and lectured me about being aloof and difficult to get to know.
Momz somehow had a topless photo of me and a friend on her phone. [Note: my mother barely knows how to use her cell phone]
Some random dude was hiding in the backseat of Momz’ car. I had to text a pic of him to the police. Which is how I found the above photo. Then I kept trying to get back to another photo I found that I wanted to send to my phone but I couldn’t find it.
I kept trying to escape Momz and FIL (they were not together) to get back to my friends. When I finally escaped to find my friends Tiger Woods appeared.
Has anyone found the theme yet? Perhaps it helps if you’ve been following along recently – or somehow living in my brain – but the theme is that I keep trying to get somewhere or accomplish something and I keep running into obstacles or getting stuck in a loop.
Dream interpretation. Not so difficult.
Even with forward momentum on the adoption front I still feel like I’m going nowhere.
May 9, 2014
Nothing good ever comes from looking at your blog stats.
At best it makes you feel validated that 102 people visited your blog today. Or 1.2 million if you’re WAY more popular than I am. Or…2 if you’re not quite as popular… but that’s still totally validating in my book. At worst you discover that someone found your blog by googling “pedophaelia.” Intermediate feelings usually result in the head tilt with eye squint and the thought, “How did THAT phrase lead them to THIS blog?”
More and more frequently I am finding old posts popping up in the most popular this week list (perhaps because I am writing less?). And so of course I click on the links to said old posts to see why anyone would be reading them now. Inevitably I end up reading all the posts from that time period and taking a walk down Memory Lane. Which really just leads to PTSD Terrace. My embryos may need GPS but *I* do not. I know where this leads and yet… I still click. Every. Single. Time.
This latest trip down the rabbit hole led me to a post I wrote TWO DAYS before I was hospitalized for the weirdest ectopic pregnancy ever. It was about, among other things, how I dreamt the night before that I was hospitalized for some weird and rare pregnancy complication. So…yeah…apparently I dreamt of it and then…it happened.
Hindsight is 20/20, and all that jazz… but…it’s still super weird. Reading other posts about how I was all woozy…which is another ectopic symptom and not typically seen quite so early in a normal pregnancy…
So anyway, I suppose the lesson here is that the next time the post Beta #2 shows up in my stats… don’t click it.
As if that is remotely possible.
August 1, 2013
I’ve known ever since the first ectopic pregnancy that my uterus might not be fit to carry a baby to term. I had thought that, perhaps having that knowledge for so long, I had come farther along in the process of accepting that it will never be.
I have a friend staying in town for work for a whole month this summer. She’s 6 months pregnant. She’s a pretty good friend and I’m more happy than jealous that she got pregnant quickly. She’s not exactly enjoying being pregnant but she hasn’t yet crossed the complaint line where I feel the need to smack her. My point is this: seeing the pregnant belly hasn’t really triggered me too much. At least not consciously.
She’s at that point in pregnancy where the kicks are starting to be strong enough to be felt on the outside. When I told her that I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the chance to feel a baby kicking she immediately took my hand and placed it on her belly. We all know I’ll never know what it feels like to have a baby kicking me on the inside. If surrogacy works out then I should have the chance again to feel it from the outside. But if it doesn’t… I just wanted to know what it feels like. I felt a few twinges but, of course, as soon as my hand was on her belly the baby decided to chill out for awhile.
Oh well. We’ll try again later.
But last night I had a dream. Along with some wicked heartburn. [Are these things related?]
I dreamt I was pregnant. With twins. But for some reason we really didn’t expect to get two babies. You know how dreams are. Somehow I was suddenly almost full term with twins but hadn’t had an ultrasound in months and we hadn’t bought a single baby item because we thought the babies were dead. Or would never be born. Or something. I hadn’t felt any movement or growth for months and then I started to feel it. I could press on my belly and feel little baby body parts. And again, this is a dream, so…I felt the baby’s little fingers try to grab my finger. Just like a real baby does but still in the womb.
Beautiful or gross? You decide.
Or maybe it’s the zombabies haunting me. Creepy.
In any case, I awoke with a raging fire in my chest and rubbing my (fat) belly.
So, um, looks like I’ve still got a ways to go on this acceptance/grieving thing. But I’ll get there. Eventually.
January 21, 2013
First off, thanks to everyone for sticking by me in December. It proved to be a *rough* month. Two friends and one uncle died, I thought I made a friend but she blew me off, holidays with ILs + extra IL family drama, all combined with a lot of weird feelings about the New Year just made me CraaaaZy.
I really was dreading the New Year and all the “This will be my year” crap that goes with it. So I’m glad that’s over with. This will be… 2013. A new year. And nothing more. It will likely resemble all the years that came before it. No expectations for great things happening this year. And I’m happy with that. And so is my therapist. She thought it was a great idea for me to take control of my expectations.
But that week I did have three, count them – THREE, dreams about Wrong Guy. For no apparent reason. Usually I can pinpoint some trigger for them but this time… not so much. It was very disconcerting. I mean, I’m always left feeling unnerved after I dream of him but three in one week for no reason I can identify is very odd. I only really remember one of them and in that one his father died. So maybe it was really about me and Pops??? Who knows. That’s not really the dream I want to get into though.
Last week Right Guy had a dream. One that, to me, is practically transparent in its meaning. Although, I didn’t discuss that with him. We only talked about the literal meaning. He dreamt that our bitchy cat (who hates him) fell down an elevator shaft (nope, none of those in our house) and died. And he was heartbroken. This is a cat he claims not to like because she’s so bitchy (she really is very bitchy but at least she likes me) yet he was so sad at losing her. Um… dead cat, elevator shaft… anyone else here see the obvious?
Men are so weird. Me… I had a complete breakdown a few weeks ago over the anxiety of trying another FET and what that could mean. Right Guy? He dreams about our cat dying. I’m pretty sure the causes were the same. 😛
May 24, 2010
I am SO looking forward to this Thursday. Two things will happen on Thursday:
1. I get wanded. Not exactly something to look forward to but I hope to find that my cyst is gone and we can cycle again. So everyone cross your fingers for me.
2. My pool opens! My neighborhood pool opens for the season and I could not be more excited about this.
Sitting by the pool in the sun is the single most relaxing thing I can think of (with one exception – sitting by the ocean in the sun and listening to the waves). And I NEED to relax. My dreams of late are proving to me that I’m far more stressed than I realize. I’ve been plagued by all sort of anxiety drenched dreams lately. Zombies. Graduation. Wedding (mine – gah!).
Not only do I need my pool to open so I can relax, I also need it so I can exercise. I love to swim. I’m like a fish in the water (and I’m a Pisces – coincidence?). So swimming is my preferred method of exercising. Particularly lately. I’ve been so crampy from the drugs and now the cyst that that swimming feels like the only thing I can do. I was swimming at a gym but I ran out of free passes and it’s an expensive gym so I’ve just been anxiously awaiting the opening.
So despite the fact that Momz, in all her infinite wisdom, has advised me NOT to swim, I can’t wait to jump in the water and swim my little heart out. So what if swimming is not a weight bearing exercise and won’t do anything for my bone health to prevent osteoperosis? It’s still good exercise. I just have to remember to also lift some weights or something.
Thursday. Thursday morning I get wanded. Thursday evening I swim. Is it Thursday yet? Are We There Yet?