Insanity

I have stood at the brink of the pit of insanity. It’s nothing like I expected it to be.

I expected the fall to be short, sunny and delirious. I expected the slide into insanity would be a gentle one, surrounded by wild, yet happy thoughts. Or even if they were not so happy, to at least have that warm oblivion wrapped around my brain like a heavy comforter on a cold day. I expected to be buffeted from the pain, the fear….oh god, the fear!

As I stood on the edge of the pit, the ground beneath me began to crumble. At that same moment, I lost all equilibrium. The fear of falling outweighed the fear of losing my children, which outweighed the fear of the fight to keep them. It outweighed the grief I felt in not having my husband with me. It outweighed the loneliness, the frustration, and the anger.

It outweighed them, but it did not erase them.

I can’t breath. I can’t think. I’m losing my grip on the ground beneath me and my grip on reality too.

The kitchen was spinning before my dazed eyes and the fear; the fear tried to swallow me. Or rather, it tried to force me to swallow it; infuse itself into me like a teabag infuses tea into hot water. The fear and I were nearly one, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

So this is what insanity feels like.

When you stand on the brink of the pit of insanity, you feel as if you are going to vomit. And pass out. And scream and cry and whimper and scream some more. There is no silently slipping into oblivion. Insanity is something that you go into, eyes wide with fear, nails clawing at the grit and pebbles at the edge of the pit. 

Somehow, I’m not sure how, I managed to claw my way back out. I was covered in dirt and dust and was breathing hard, even as I let go of the counter and wandered aimlessly into the all-but-empty living room.

That was a close one. Let’s not do that again, shall we?

Yes, good idea.

I have stood at the brink of the pit of insanity and let me tell you, it’s simply nothing like I expected it to be.

Dear Grocery Store Customer

Dear Grocery Store Customer,

Thank you for your patronage. Your business truly is appreciated, as it pays my salary. I promise to provide you with courteous, prompt and cheerful customer service. In return, please allow me to outline a few helpful hints that you, the customer, can do to help move the process along:

1. There is something in our Checker World called "IPMs." This is "Items Per Minute" or to put it more plainly, The Management keeps track of how quickly we check you out from the time we ring up your first item until we hit the "Enter" button and hand you your receipt. If YOU cause a delay of some sort ("Oh, I forgot the milk. Can I just run back real quick and get it?") then our IPMs drop. A lot. And it also holds up everyone else in line and generally pisses them off. And face it, are we really going to tell you no, you CAN'T go get that item you forgot, since it will only, "Take a second" to get? No, we will not.

2. Do not stand at the end of the belt and place your groceries, one by one, to travel the lonely mile all the way to me. The belt is not a carnival ride nor do the groceries derive any pleasure from having to travel ALLLLLL the way down from one end to the other. The grocery police will not arrest you if you stand in the MIDDLE of the belt and load your groceries. Trust me, things go MUCH quicker, and I will be less cranky on the inside if I can just buzz through your items, rather than watching my IPMs drop like a lead weight in water.

3. Do not get upset or impatient with me if I hold the belt until you've finished unloading your cart (or at the very least, sufficiently filled up the belt). Trust me. I can probably check your items faster than you can put them on the belt. Please see points 1 and 2 for my reasoning on this.

4. There is no need to organize your groceries alphabetically, stack them like little miniature castles or create beautiful origami with them. All your hard work will only be undone when I pick them up (randomly) and run them across the scanner. There is also no need to tell us to "keep the cold items together." I PROMISE, we will straighten it all out on the other side and bag your groceries professionally and properly.

5. My greeting to you is obligatory, and we both know it. This is not, however, any reason to be pissy with me. I am simply doing my job when I greet you with a genuine smile, ask if you found everything okay, and offer you the sale item of the week. I have no frickin' idea if you've shopped here a million years and know this store better than I do, or if you are from another city and had trouble finding the sugar-free cookies.

6. When you cannot find said sugar-free cookies, and I offer to send someone to get them for you, don't get all bitchy with me and insist we don't carry them anymore. I just saw the damn things yesterday on our shelves and know for a fact that we do still carry them. If I'm uncertain, I'll say so, and call a manager to find out for sure.

7. There are these wonderful little inventions called "Dividers." We provide them for your use to place between orders. This is so I know when your order ends and the next order begins. I am not a fucking mind-reader. Use the fucking divider. Thank you.

8. If you insist on bringing your children with you to the store, for christssake, do NOT let them bag the groceries. We also have goals to place X number of items in each bag, and to use the smaller bags when necessary. I guarantee you, your 8 year old has no fucking idea how to bag groceries.

9. On that same note: If you insist on raising a brat, please have the decency to at least watch them. I do not appreciate ringing up your order AND the order of the person behind me because YOUR little angel decided to remove the divider. And no, it's not my job to watch and make sure the divider doesn't get moved. I'm busy. Get off the damned cell phone and be a parent for once.

10. If you are in the check-out stand directly behind me, please be mindful of my personal space and keep out of it. I have a tiny little area to work in and I don't need your fat ass backing into mine.

11. There are times where we are short-handed and don't have enough baggers to help bag groceries. There are also times we are incredibly busy, and all said baggers are out helping other customers put their groceries in their respective vehicles. In the event this happens while I'm checking out your $400-plus basket(s) of groceries, would you please be so kind as to quit staring at me and help me bag some of your own shit? And if this act is beneath you, that is more than okay. At the very least, pick up the bags I've already filled and put them in your goddam basket already. I don't have a lot of room at the low side of the register and it truly is appreciated when you help out.

12. Do not give me your nasty, sticky coins or bills that have milk, juice and god-knows-what-else on them. I don't want them.

13. Do not lie to me about the price of something. Do not get impatient with me when I have to do a price check. You will be found out if you lie and I HAVE to do the damn price check. I've been burned too many times by schmucks insisting the price is such-and-such. Management frowns on the loss of dollars after the third time in a week I get taken.

14. Do NOT give me your religious pamphlets, stickers, bookmarks, etc. While some checkers in this hell they call the Bible-Belt may appreciate your gifts and get all warm and fuzzy, not everyone here is a Christian and I don't care how you slice it, it is considered proselytizing. Besides, I just throw it away when you're gone. You're welcome.

15. When you want cash back from a transaction, fucking - LISTEN - TO - ME - when I give you instructions on how to get your damn cash. Don't get mad at ME and storm out, forgetting your ice along the way, just because YOU couldn't follow directions.

16. Men, for the love of god and all that is holy, please cut your nasty, gross fingernails.

17. Please forgive me if I don't remember your face or name the first few times you go through my line. I know we live in a small town, but there are still a lot of names and faces to learn.

18. To those of you who are cheerful, pleasant, helpful and just plain nice: Thank you. I love each of you. For those of you that actually carry on a conversation with me, THANK YOU!! You not only make my job easier, but make me look good in front of the boss. For those of you who have bad days, but don't take it out on me, thank you. I really will listen to you when you tell me what a shitty day/week/month you're having. I will commiserate with you and feel you pain, sincerely.

Invisible

Wednesday, February 17, 2010 at 1:14pm

When I walk, I am invisible.
No one can see me, except for the dogs.
I pull my hood up over my head, going into Super-Stealth Mode.
I push my way along, turning the earth with my feet.
First this way, then that way,
The earth moves at my whim.
A dog barks as I pass by.
Shh! You'll give me away!
Stupid dog.
Cars pass by me. I am only a ripple in the airwaves to them.
They avoid me out of instinct, though they know not why.
I meet another walker. We acknowledge one another with a slight turn of the head.
He is invisible too, but we are not to each other.
I notice the dogs don't bark when he passes by. I must learn this technique.
When I walk, I am invisible.
My jeans give me away. They make a rhythmic sound as I walk, but only on the right side.
I notice a familiar turn in the road.
The fairies still haven't picked up their sprocket they carelessly left behind.
I see the grill plate too. Sloppy, sloppy fairies.
Maybe I'll pick those items up for them, so they can stay invisible too.
It's a beautiful power to have, invisibility.
Don't you wish you had it too?

The Little Assassin

Monday, January 4, 2010 at 7:30pm

You may have heard Brian and I marvel at how Ash just seems to "know" things. For example, he knew what sort of sound a car is supposed to make, he knew that if he put two sticks together, one was his "gun" and the other his "ammo" (and it doesn't work w/o the ammo!) along with the sound that a gun is supposed to make. In each case we have no idea how he's learned what he's learned.

Today is different. Today, he has his drumstick and has been busy stabbing the dishwasher, over and over and over. He steps back, lunges and does his little baby yell, "EEEEYAAAAA!!" If it wasn't so dang cute, it'd be a little on the disturbing side. But "cute" definitely wins out here. Honestly.

So where did he learn this? Ahhh, that's an easy one. The kids have been playing "Assassin's Creed" both I and II nonstop since Christmas. He's obviously picked up some pointers on some Knight Templar moves.

Of course, as I type this, he's lying on his back, with his feet in the air yelling, "DEE DEE DEE DAAADEEEE DEE DEE!!!!"

Brian seems to think Ash can protect us. I have my doubts.

Processing

Wednesday, December 23, 2009 at 10:34pm

So, I'm still trying to process this news. My brain knows what is about to happen; or maybe it's my heart. I'm not sure... they both are a little tangled up right now. I don't know if it just hasn't fully sunk in yet, or if I'm just going to keep this brave face until the afternoon of March 1st; only then letting down my guard to allow myself to cry.

Why would I cry? Relief, mostly. I know it's going to be okay. But still, it's a very scary thought.

I found out today that my 15 year old daughter, Josee, will be needing back surgery. She has very severe scoliosis and the doctor didn't even hesitate when he saw her x-rays.

"Her curve is 63 degrees. Back braces are only effective at halting the progression, not fixing the curvature. And even then, they are only moderately effective for curvatures of about 20 degrees to 40 degrees. She's going to need surgery."

The blood drained from my face. I exhaled and said, "I was afraid you were going to say that."

I too, have scoliosis. Mine is located in my lower back and at last measurement was some 46 degrees off. But lower back scoliosis and middle/upper back scoliosis are two different creatures entirely.

Prior to the good doctor coming into the exam room, we had been sitting there together. I recalled the dozens, perhaps hundreds of trips I took to see my own specialist when I was Josee's age. Each week I'd go in for another set of x-rays and each week he'd hem and haw and say, "You're just so active, I'm going to hold off putting you in a brace." When I finally turned 18 he released me from his care. Back then, there was some peripheral talk of back surgery. I was not opposed to the idea while my mother would bristle and balk. "Nobody is going to cut MY baby's back open... not if *I* have anything to say about it!" she used to announce to anyone that would listen.

But this is different. This is not an option. Josee MUST have the surgery. It's just that I wasn't expecting it. At least, I wasn't expecting it until I saw the x-rays for the first time. The second I saw them, and saw what exactly was going on with her spine and ribs, and how that must be affecting her internal organs and surrounding muscles, I knew that surgery would be a distinct possibility.

But that still didn't stop the blood from draining from my face.

Things are happening way too fast. She is scheduled for an MRI tomorrow. She will go in and give blood twice before surgery, in the event that she needs a transfusion, and everything is set up save the parent consult meeting. Surgery is scheduled for March 1st.

She's doing great, by the way. She's a real trooper. She's always been my hero, and she continues to be today.

So yeah, I'm putting on a brave face now because I'm Mom and that's what moms do. But don't bet the farm that I won't break down and cry the afternoon of March 1st when the doctor emerges from the six hour surgery to tell us that everything went great and she's in recovery.

"Wow!".... Items and Other Things

Monday, November 16, 2009 at 1:47pm

It's been busy at work. Crazy busy. Like "week of Thanksgiving" busy.

For those who don't know, I work part-time as a cashier at our local grocery store. I'm still considered a newb, but am finally gaining the trust and respect of my fellow baggers, who apparently refuse to bag for new checkers. Thank goodness for that, because bagging a $300 order by yourself with four other $300 orders waiting in line REALLY sucks.

But that is not what my note is about today. No, today I would like to discuss the "Wow" items. Wow items are those impulse buys the grocery store puts at the register. They are offered at a very special price and we checkers are required to offer said items. As incentive on the positive, whoever sells the most items "wins" for the week. I've won twice now, and come in third once... I think. They are not really good at letting us know, but there is money involved, so the incentive is still there to try. As incentive on the negative, if we DON'T offer the item or items, the customer has the right to obtain the item for free.

I can count on three fingers how often I've failed to offer the Wow item. No one has ever exercised their right to obtain their freebie, but I always realize my mistake within moments of closing the transaction. At any rate, sometimes I ask at the very end, sometimes I mention it in the middle. I RARELY use the words, "Do you want a Wow item?" but rather inform the poor soul on the other side of my register that, "We have this item on sale for 99 cents and these doo-hickies are two for a dollar." Did I specifically OFFER the item? Technically, no... but I certainly did bring it to their attention, and the technique is what has allowed me to win so many times, even as a newb.

So yesterday, a woman came through my line. She was all dressed up in her Sunday finery. The first question out of her mouth after I finished up her order was, "What did I purchase that was so expensive??" I pulled her order back up and she realized the cake or some damn thing she picked up was $4-something rather than the $2.50 she claimed "the sign" said. My bagger dutifully trotted off to do a price check, and we stood and chatted for a few minutes while we waited for her to return. I commented on her dress and told her it was pretty and she responded, "Why THANK you! We have a special meetin' at church tonight," confirming my suspicions that she was a "God-fearing" woman.

Hint: "Special meetin'" is code for, "I'm an evangelical and I attend church whenever those doors open because I just cain't git enough of the Holy Spirit PRAISE GOD!!"

About this time, the bagger came back and told me she couldn't find a sign (this should have been a major red flag for me that this gal was what we call a "distractor," but I didn't think much about it). The woman kept insisting, "No, it's okay... no problem.. I'll just take the cake..." So I finished up her order in my usual manner.

As soon as I handed her the receipt, she got this smirk on her face and said, "You didn't offer me a basket item."

I stopped for half a second to filter through my memory (Notice I didn't place the actual offering in my dissertation above). I responded with, "I'm pretty sure I did." Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it was a battle I could not win. It was my word against hers. And who is always right? Yep. The customer.

I sighed and asked her which item did she want? She took claim on the toothpaste. I then asked her WHICH toothpaste she wanted, and she waved her hand and said, "I don't care.. any of them."

There are five fucking flavors to choose from. And if I've learned one thing as a checker, I've learned that people in general are VERY picky about their toothpaste.

So I grabbed one and ran it across the scanner. She immediately got even huffier with me and said, "You can't charge me for that!" I calmly told her that no, I wasn't going to charge her for it, but I still had to run it through the system.

"Yeah, but when they don't ask me up in Austin, they just hand it to me. That's how they ALWAYS do it."

Ahhh... and your M.O. is revealed! And please note that she continued to bring up this point several times throughout the remainder of her time with me.

I calmly informed her again that I needed to follow protocol and run it through the system.

Once I did, the manager override screen came up, so I called for a manager. She was becoming more agitated by the minute now. Of course, I was beyond pissed, because I DID ask her if she wanted the stupid item, but was powerless to do anything about it. It was the principle of the thing.

Did I mention it was busy in the store?? It took several minutes to get a manager over there to input the override (and they always want to know what they are overriding). I told him it was the Wow Initiative, and as I stepped behind him to allow him access to my keyboard, I whispered, "I asked her."

I think she may have heard me, but I'm not certain if it was that, the fact that the manager had to come over, or the act of my actually chucking the item down the belt for the bagger, that made the look I saw cross her face, actually cross her face.

What was that... was that... guilt?? Maybe. Or maybe it was embarrassment at having caused such a scene over a 99 cent item that she knew, and I knew, she had lied to obtain.

I pulled myself together in the less than 10 seconds that all this transpired (from manager to bagging her item) and handed her the small sack of groceries and said, with the most pleasant of voices AND a smiles, "You have a wonderful day, ma'am."

It wasn't until I found my immediate manager on my break a few minutes later, and with two other managers there, explained what happened (only to be told not to sweat it, but that's another seven paragraphs alone, so I'll skip it) that I realized that it wasn't the fact that I had to unjustly give away a basket item; it was the hypocrisy of this woman that made me so angry. Her "front" of being a good, church-goin' woman was overshadowed by the smugness and her "GOTCHA!" attitude of getting something for nothing.

I can't stand hypocrites. I can't stand liars. And I can't stand those who combine the two and then throw a smarmy smile in on top of it all. I hope Jesus really, really gets her for this one.

The Byers Enlightenment Post (B.E.P.) #001

Sunday, November 15, 2009 at 10:40pm 

The Byers Enlightenment Post (B.E.P.) #001
Copy, Paste, Replace, Tag, and Share

* FINISH THE SENTENCE(s)

LIFE IS:
Like a box of chocolates...

No wait... that one is already taken.

Life is a never-ending cycle, on both the micro and macro levels.


LOVE:
comes in many forms. Rich is the person who experiences them all.


* SOMETHING YOU WISH EVERYONE UNDERSTOOD
Just because someone doesn't agree with you, does not mean they are wrong. It is possible to have differing viewpoints and both be right. It is also possible that your viewpoint may not be the best one.


* NAME 3 PEOPLE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO THANK AND EXPLAIN WHY

1) My four older kids. They are truly GOOD, GOOD kids. They work hard in school, they are not afraid to express themselves, and they are just all-around amazing people. On some level and in different ways, each one of them is my hero. Thank you for being an inspiration to me.

2). My husband. Thank you for being who you are and for allowing me to figure out who the hell I am. Thank you for not making fun of the weird, jacked-up philosophies I might have now and again; for actually taking them seriously. Thank you for your laughter and for making me laugh, especially when I need it most. And thank you for loving me and allowing me to cry those times when I just don't feel like laughing. Thank you for being real with me, and honest with me. I'm not fully unconvinced that we weren't lovers in a previous life, and have been fortunate enough to keep our vow to find each other again in this life. It was worth the wait. May we do the same in our next life as well.



* WHAT QUESTION DO YOU HAVE THAT YOU WOULD LIKE ANSWERED TODAY?
Why, why, WHY are some people so hurtful and mean? Is there ANY little piece of them that feels guilty for their actions?

Oh wait... that was two questions.


* NAME ONLY 1 OF EACH THAT YOU THINK PEOPLE SHOULD EXPERIENCE

FOOD: Chicken and saurkraut

SONG: Mummer's Dance

MOVIE: The Green Mile

SHOW: Lost (but you have to start at the beginning...lol)

ACTIVITY: The Ballet.

* SHARE A FAVORITE SAYING
Read the lyrics to "Rainbow Connection" by Kermit the Frog... that would about sum it up.


* WRITE A SAYING THAT YOU MAY BE QUOTED FOR
"I win!"

What The Government Does For Us

Monday, November 9, 2009 at 9:25am

Borrowed from my friend, Danny C. (though he probably hates being called "Danny" now... hehehe). I do not know who the original author is, but definitely worth sharing:

FOOD FOR THOUGHT - share it with your friends

This morning I was awoken by my alarm clock powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the US department of energy.

I then took a shower in the clean water provided by the municipal water utility.

After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC regulated channels to see what the national weather service of the national oceanographic and atmospheric administration determined the weather was going to be like using satellites designed, built, and launched by the national aeronautics and space administration. I watched this while eating my breakfast of US department of agriculture inspected food and taking the drugs which have been determined as safe by the food and drug administration.

At the appropriate time as regulated by the US congress and kept accurate by the national institute of standards and technology and the US naval observatory, I get into my national highway traffic safety administration approved automobile and set out to work on the roads build by the local, state, and federal departments of transportation, possibly stopping to purchase additional fuel of a quality level determined by the environmental protection agency, using legal tender issued by the federal reserve bank. On the way out the door I deposit any mail I have to be sent out via the US postal service and drop the kids off at the public school.

After spending another day not being maimed or killed at work thanks to the workplace regulations imposed by the department of labor and the occupational safety and health administration, enjoying another two meals which again do not kill me because of the USDA, I drive my NHTSA car back home on the DOT roads, to my house which has not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and fire marshal's inspection, and which has not been plundered of all its valuables thanks to the local police department.

I then log on to the internet which was developed by the defense advanced research projects administration and post on freerepublic.com and fox news forums about how SOCIALISM in medicine is BAD because the government can't do anything right.

Understanding

Friday, October 23, 2009 at 12:20pm

*Things I Don't Understand:*

I don't understand the anger.
I don't understand injustice.
I don't understand how those who are supposed to love you unconditionally, can't or won't.
I don't understand close-mindedness.
I don't understand judging me without taking the time to get to know me.
I don't understand how people can take one person's word over another, without checking with the source first.
I don't understand the breakdown of communication beyond repair, caused by words that cannot be taken back.


*Things I Do Understand:*

Warmth
A sincere heart
True Love
Soul Mates
Acceptance, even in the face of disagreement
A baby's laugh
True friendship
And the fact that while you may not be able to choose your family, you can choose whether or not to alienate them and cause pain.

True Love is patient and kind. It is not envious, boastful or proud. True Love is not rude, hurtful, self-seeking or pissy. It does not gain satisfaction over winning "points" in an argument, but seeks the Truth, hand in hand with another.

True Love protects those important to It. Period.

True Love trusts those important to It. Period.

True Love is full of hope and It never fails.

If you are able to commune with The Universe Itself, but don't have True Love, then your communion is worthless. If you know the secrets to the mysteries of the universe, but don't have True Love, then your knowledge is nothing. If you do every good deed you can think of, but don't have True Love, then your life has been wasted.

True Love does not judge. It does more than just accept you for who you are, it embraces who you are and helps you find your way.

This WAS my status, but FB said it was too long... LOL

 Wednesday, October 14, 2009 at 9:51am

Had a dream that I took a pregnancy test and not only did it tell me I was pregnent, it told me that I conceived 65 days ago. Brian and I chose not to tell our families for some reason. Then later in the dream (much later) I was sitting in a kitchen somewhere and heard a distinctive "popping" sound. Immediately, thousands of cockroaches came POURING out of the kitchen sink. Guess I'll do a little research and see what the hell it all means.

Charter

Whereas anyone on Facebook can report any picture or profile at any time they choose and for any reason and

Whereas said picture or profile will be immediately deleted upon reporting and

Whereas I feel this is inherently unfair and an exercise in undue censorship,

Therefore, I am and will hereby begin backing up all my notes and blogs I have on Facebook to this blog. Each entry will begin with the original date of posting from Facebook so as to help reduce confusion on the part of the reader.

Accepted this day, 03 April 2010.

-Anna Marie Petroff-Byers
Ghostology with Brian & Anna Marie
Le Chic du Bitch

Number 6

"And now number 6 on the way...."

Those words grabbed me as I re-read my last entry. I read them again.

"And now number 6 on the way...."

Unfortunately, not any more.  We lost the baby on January 10th, 2010. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the ER, filling out paperwork. I signed and dated it: 01/10/10.... and I thought to myself, "I'm going to remember this date."

Even then, I knew something was wrong. I was hoping the doctors could tell me everything was fine, stay on bedrest for now...we'll check you again in a week. But the bleeding got heavier even as I waited to be examined. The ultrasound proved what I already suspected. The technician refused to let me see the screen almost immediately. She also refused to tell me anything at all.

I knew. I didn't want to believe it, but I knew I'd already lost the baby I was carrying.

She called the doctor in and after a few minutes, he confirmed it. He said, "The baby doesn't have a heartbeat." He looked at me with pity in his eyes. "That means the baby isn't alive. I'm so sorry." They told me the baby was 8 weeks old.

They gave Brian and I a few moments to ourselves, which will remain private and close to my heart. But I cried a little. Even so, I wasn't as sad as I thought I'd be. I was handling it very well, I thought.

Our first order of business was to fill my prescription. I went to the grocery store where I worked to fill it, and as soon as I walked in, it seemed like all eyes were on me. Everyone at the front end smiled and waved and greeted me with nothing but joy. And it hit me like a Mack truck. The emotional tidelwave was so unexpected that I was embarrassed in spite of myself. I managed to let my supervisors know I would be unable to work until further notice. My immediate supervisor told me to take as long as I needed.

Once home, we settled in and waited. The waiting was hard. I placed my hand on my tiny bump of a belly and waited some more. I watched TV to distract myself and talked to Brian about nothing in particular. I finally said, "I just wish it would hurry up and happen." We didn't know if it would be that day, or several days from now, so we waited.

Fortunately, the wait wasn't several days, but only several hours. Suddenly my bleeding increased as did the pain. I took a pain pill the doctor prescribed and waited some more. Within 30 minutes I had one very hard cramp, then an audible "POP!" followed by a gush. I cried out in pain, but I was alone.

Once in the bathroom, I surveyed the result to see if the miscarriage was complete. Next to a large blood clot on my pad was a tiny, tan-colored, jelly-bean shaped feature. I studied it closely. Was this it? Was this our baby? I couldn't tell, so called Brian in. He and I agreed there had to be more....that tiny thing couldn't possibly be the whole baby. We found out several days later, however, that that was indeed the complete baby. One very tiny, floppy jellybean. At the time, because I thought it was only partial tissue, I simply threw it away. Now, I kind of wish I had kept it to bury...given it some sort of ceremony... let this tiny life know that it was loved.

My grief over the loss of the baby has been an interesting journey. Many days I was surprised at how well I was handling it all. I felt rather unaffected by the miscarriage and wondered if I shouldn't be crying more; grieving more. Then someone would say something, usually I was that someone, and I would be surprised at the sudden flow of emotion and tears. My grief drug out over weeks and weeks. But grieve I did.

Many people are embarrassed when they find out I'm no longer pregnant. They are afraid to mention the miscarriage or bring it up for fear of upsetting me, I'm sure. I try to assure them it's okay... It's okay to bring it up. It's okay to acknowledge that I carried a precious life and that I lost that life after a very short eight weeks. Don't fear that acknowledgment. I find comfort in the fact that you appreciate my loss...that you can stand with me and say, "That was something special, but it's okay. Life goes on and we will not forget that little one as we move forward."

We're going to try again. Part of me is terrified to do this. For one, I'm 40 years old. But another part of me really, really wants to have just one more. So yes, we are trying again. We are trying in the midst of my four teenagers working their way through school, one of whom is graduating this year, and another who is preparing for a major surgery. We are trying in spite of our financial situation, because there is never a "good time" to have a baby. They always come when you least expect them and when you need them most. So, if the gods that be grant us one more, we will raise and love that little booger just as we have and are the other five.

Life moves forward, and so do I. Tears still come now and then, and they always surprise me when they do, but they come less frequently now. If you would like to express your condolences, please feel free to do so. It is never a stab to the heart when someone says, "I'm sorry for your loss." Each person that reaches out to touch me in that way is appreciated to my core. It's good to share the joys in life, but it's better to share the pain. It makes the burden lighter...

Thank you to each of you who have lightened my burden for me.