From within the womb.

I am seeing my life change before my eyes. I've been given love on a level that shouldn't be ignored. The love that overflows from my daughters, husband, and parents is not something I could ever take for granted. Love from friends showing their support and kindness builds me up and I am eternally grateful for what they have shared with me.
But life is changing. Life on a level that is hard to put into words, but I will try.
Life that begins as a child impatiently waiting for that one particular right of passage, the sign of having finally become a woman. The thought that life could be carried inside mine was always something that filled me with such contentment. I felt whole. I could be a mother I thought. Of course this wouldn't be fulfilled until many years later but it was something I could not wait to have happen to me. And when it did with our first child, she truly made me the person I always longed to be, a mother. And for a while, a damn good mother. I was pleased with what I did with her, how hard I loved her and how I would empty my soul on her behalf.Sickness set in not long after she was born. But having a newborn made me move past whatever pain I was experiencing, because at the end of the day I saw this angelic-like-china-doll baby. She was mine, all mine and I couldn't believe it.



Life grew even richer when her sister joined the world. I feared the kind of mother I would be with another little one in tow. Juggling two is sometimes an emotional battle I still fight daily. Do I give too much attention to one and not the other? Am I kind enough to one, or too tough on the other? Up and down, around and around, life spins each day with one question leading to another. Am I a good mother to two children? I am trying, but at times I think failing. Sickness has sucked my spirit up and at times I fear, devoured it. But there are sunny days where I find out that my spirit of love is still there and fighting to get through. However, despite knowing my limitations full and well, occasional dreams of the past come bubbling forward. Dreams I have tried to extinguish on many occasions. But knowing the possibility was still there made it bearable.
And now that possibility is coming to an end.

How does a woman mourn the loss of what makes her unique? Of what makes her special amongst men who walk the earth with all their strong manliness? How does she mourn the loss that life could be carried within her? One day she bares a belly-full with another heart beating inside her and the next there's a real little person to hold onto that is breathing, crying, living, continuing the circle of life.

But then in a matter of minutes that possibility is removed and placed into a sterile silver pan just like that. Sent off for examination by a stranger and then tossed into a hazardous waste container leading to incineration. My womb. The place that cherished my babies before I even could, now destroyed. Why am I being so dramatic? After all, I already know with our current circumstances as they are,  to add another child to our family would be an unwise, unrealistic and probably irresponsible decision to make. My heart is already so full of love now, blessings and beautiful days. In being 100% real, I actually don't want another child. In fact I am straight up terrified of that happening, knowing what my limitations are right now.  But what if that feeling changed in a few years? Chance gone.
 

However, I think it's more than that. It's the strange disregard for the fist sized organ that made me a mother in the first place. It's the ripping it out and tossing it aside without so much of even a thank you. So for me...... while the Dr works to remove a part of me that now causes pain,  I'm certain as I count backwards from ten while they place the mask over my face, tears of appreciation for the 77 weeks (collectively) of precious protection it gave my babies will flow from my eyes.  

So when it's all said & done and March 1st at 11am has come and gone, I know that I am not losing what makes me a woman. I'm still me.  I am simply recreating myself. Finding myself to freedom. Finding a way to not live in fear of unnecessary pain. Not that pain will be gone from my life,  but pain that *maybe* in one area of my body, I don't have to have anymore. Sitting here not doing anything won't fix the problem. So I have to roll the dice. I may win,  I may even lose. But if I don't try I will never know. And as far as dreams go I've had the most important ones fulfilled, which was to become a mother to two beautifully different and wonderfully whimsical daughters. And for that,  I am eternally grateful.

Selfish.

"I guess I'm selfish for wanting things to be how they were.
I guess it's wrong of me to ask you to change for me, or stay for me.
But I guess it's partly your fault since when you left, you took pieces of my heart, leaving mine broken and dying in the dark. Paralyzed by questions and consumed by thoughts, I sunk into darkness and found myself "lost".



So before you steal another's love and promise them friendship forever think twice.
Are you prepared to fight for them, or run away and hide from them?
Or are you all ready to change your mind leaving whatever of them is left, behind?
Do you realize your actions affect so many, without you even knowing?
Do you know I still think of you daily even though your thoughts of me are empty?
Do you know I built up a brick wall strong enough to withstand even the bravest of attempts?


Around me stand good loving people who I brush away, afraid of love, I am no longer the same.
These holes in my heart I keep thinking are healed, are simply shredding apart.
Bleeding memories with each thought and I can't get it to stop.
There should be funerals when a friendship dies, at least then I might be fine.
Stuck in the land of not ever saying goodbye, keeps my wounds open and alive. 


Now this is my closure, after all, it has to be.
For you've long moved on, only I'm stuck here in the memories.
I'll be fine, not that you care, your lack of words has made that clear.
I'll keep waiting for my heart to heal.
I'll let you go, once and for all.
Yes, I'm letting go."





Written by A. Creveling

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The carousel never stops. Life is like that. It doesn't stop to say "sorry",   "excuse me for messing up your plans" or even "hope you can handle this pile of garbage I just gave you."

I have been bitter for far too long. Bitter that my children's childhood has been stained for me. Bitter that my normal is a regular persons sick day. Bitter that my days are about choices and balance and picking and choosing what I can or CANNOT do.  Bitter that a family vacation comes with a long list of necessary items just to not end up in the hospital. Bitter that when I say "I'm ok"  I'm almost always lying and under this made-up face,  I simply wish people knew how I really felt. 

But that's not how I want to be remembered. I don't want to be the one who couldn't see the beauty surrounding me. In the funk I've so fiercely simmered in the last two days, it has left me with eyes wide open. Yes, I have limitations. Yes, I want to do more than I can. Yes, my life is different. But I am above ground and not below it. I am breathing and even though sometimes even that hurts, my heart is still beating. Despite the uncountable times this heart has been broken for whatever reason, it keeps beating. I'm taking a lesson from this heart. It just keeps going. And even though at times it lets everyone know that some things just aren't right, it doesn't give up just because it had a bad day. That's how I hope to be remembered. Not willing to ever give up and at least trying to smile through the pain. 

So for now I'll breathe in, breathe out, and enjoy the fact that I can watch my babies grow and love them until they cannot stand it. 

For in this moment, this is the carousel I'm riding. 

Acceptance has begun.

You may know me from growing up together. Or maybe you know me from more recent times. Perhaps you don't know me at all and have just stumbled on my blog by chance, maybe by the fact that we have something in common. Either way, there may be things you don't know about me, because I am still trying to figure it out myself. Each day that I wake up, starts off with a big question mark running through my mind. What is it going to be like today? Will I feel my age for once? Or will I continue down the painful path of feeling 70 before I'm even 30? Before I even make my first move in the morning,I start to dread what will become of it. Will I hurt today? Some days I fumble out of bed, find my way downstairs to my first cup of coffee, and the day begins without a hitch. And then some days, I practically fall back asleep while drinking my second cup of coffee, struggle to simply make it through an average day, only to collapse into my bed again.

A few years ago one of my doctors said to me, "I don't want to say you have fibromyalgia before I know you really do, because so many people shape their lives around having it." I appreciated that comment at the time..... There was no way I was going to become one of those people. I just wanted answers. If fibromyalgia was what I had, I would be happy with the diagnoses and able to move on with life. --- or would I? Well, 5 years later after many, many doctors and second opinions, they all agree that for now, I have fibromyalgia.

I was a brand new mom, my baby girl was only 7 months old. I had my issues, but things that were passing. I had surgery two months before for a large ovarian cyst that had twisted my fallopian tubes. Right before my surgery, we bought and moved into our first home. One month after my surgery, my husband was diagnosed with a brain cyst after a scary visit to the ER. So I suppose one could say, I experienced some of life's most stressful events, all within a few short months.I have tried to re-live those few months over and over again in my head, questioning what exactly put my body over the edge. Was it the surgery or the medications used? Was it the fact that I recently had a baby and was dealing with obviously messed up hormones? Was it the extreme stress I felt when I wasn't sure of my husbands future? But even after all those questions are asked, there is nothing I could do to change the past. If I could go back in time, I couldn't avoid the surgery that I desperately needed, I couldn't change the fact that my husband had an unknown arachnoid brain cyst likely from childhood, and I definitely would never change having our first child, or buying our simple little home where we still raising our little girls.
So clearly stuck in the past, I needed to move forward. But moving forward, meant accepting what they say I have, and figuring out how to live with it. With that being said, acceptance has been a difficult journey for me........but figuring out how to live a normal life is a ongoing process.

Now a mom of two and still under 30, on my difficult days happiness comes slowly. Bitter at times, looking behind at who I use to be, leaves me weak when looking forward. And that is what I struggle with on a day to day basis. Just trying to be normal. Just trying to feel good. Trying to stay positive. Pretending to feel good for my family, for my husband who worries, and for my girls who should have a normal 29 year old mother.

This is the attempt to not let fibromyalgia define who I am as a person.
I am not the disease, I am so much more than that. I can do this.