Ring the Bell

And the end of 2010 is nigh.

It's the last day of the year and as hopeful as I was for 2010, I am glad that it is over.

There was a lot of loss in our lives this year from Smokey Cat to the end of our dream of children. But some of the loss was good in that I am 95% pain free for the first time in about three years. That's definitely something to be thankful for even if the route taken to end the pain caused so many tears.

I got to meet my son this year, which is something I never truly believed would happen. It's doesn't matter if all time spent has been on the internet. We are learning about each and this way is working for us. He is joy to know and I'm grateful for the chance.

Many friends came through in a pinch during my medical trials this year. You know who you are. It would not have gone as smoothly if it hadn't been for your help and support.

We lost Smokey Cat and I miss him dearly. But we are grateful that the rest of the menagerie is still doing well in spite of the scare Scrat gave us at the beginning on 2010. When you have three 12 years old and two 11 years old animals, (Scrat's only 4) the writing is on the wall for some sad years to come. But they are healthy and happy right now and a joy to us both.

So the end of year comes with friends and furbabies alike. Ken is winging off for a much needed vacation with friends. I am hanging with friends tonight and holding down the home fort while Ken is gone.

Thanks again to all my friends that helped us out this year and stood by us during some pretty rough times. They aren't over but there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

However you ring the bell on the end of 2010 and usher in 2011, I wish you all healthy, happiness and joy in the New Year.

Forty

It's a milestone he didn't reach, among others.

This year it seems to be hitting me harder that my brother is no longer with us.

His 40th birthday would have been this past Sunday, the 12th. I would have posted then but I was busy trying to get myself to NYC from Oakland in one piece and the weather was not cooperating.

I'm home now and I've been thinking about him a lot this week.

40 is a year to celebrate and he should have been here for it.

While he may have done some stupid things in his short life, Robbie wasn't a stupid person. Which makes his final action even more unfathomable to this day.

I've been to the dark place that he didn't return from. I know that life can throw stuff at us that makes us think that escaping life is easier than staying. I've managed to pull myself back and I won't let myself go there again. It's a daily struggle (that's the way depression works, you know?) but I know how strong I am.

I wish Robbie had been strong enough to say "Enough!" to whatever was making him feel the way he was and I wish he'd known he could have asked me for help and that I'd have done everything possible to keep him here.

Happy 40th Birthday Robbie. My wish for you is that you were still here, but since I can't have that I hope you are finally at peace. It's something we all deserve, but don't always manage.

What to do? How to Explain?

As we all can see, I'm not really blogging right now.

Most of the reasons are personal and for one situation, I'm not really sure how far I can go on my blog, even though it is my blog, before someone gets hurt. And someone will and I'm trying to make sure it's not me. The other situation is something that paints me in a very bad light, not that that usually bothers me, but it dates back 21 years and I lost friends then over it and I'm not looking forward to the possibility again. Granted, I'll be the first to admit that I have absolutely no use for 'fair weather' only friends. The event 21 years ago showed me that and the friends that stood by me then are still strong friends to this day.

Situation 1: A person has opened a door with some information that could possibly explain my whole family dynamic. It could explain why my sister and my brother paired off all the time. I used to think it was because they both had similar coloring to each other - close enough to be blood related, and most of the rest of the family, included extended didn't share that coloring. The information is something that completely blindsided me and I don't think I'm truly believed when I state that I had no clue.

My main problems with this are: 1. There is no way to prove or disprove the information. It's all hearsay. 2. the person won't answer a few direct questions regarding the whole thing so that I can truly understand it's extent. 3. I don't honestly know how far this person is willing to go to drive a huge wedge in my life as pay back for not being one of the original affected parties, though I had NO CONTROL over that, to the point of making this whole thing up. (please remember I'm a cynic) 4. If it's true, so much other stuff could be explained that I'm NEVER going into detail about here or anywhere actually. 5. There is no use confronting the accused since no one in their right mind would verify this. Ever. I already know it will become a they said, they said kind of situation with me in the middle.

So I don't know what to do. Do I keep pushing on item 2? Do I change my mind about item 5? Right now I think the answer is yes and no respectively. Because the person should answer the questions. They opened the door; they don't get to back out halfway through. Maybe they have closure, but I sure as hell don't. As for 5, absolutely no good can come of me changing my mind, ever. Everyone loses, including me.

Situation 2: When I first found out/admitted I was pregnant 21 years ago I thought it was due to my attack on campus shortly after I came back for the school year. That would also be where the denial came in. The attack over shadowed everything else. Either way, family was told and appointments were made to take care of the 'situation'. At that appointment I found out I was farther along than the attack would warrant. There would be no taking care of the situation in 'that' manner any more. That was my decision. My body, my choice.

* Digression * And as it's my blog let me simply state that I sit on the fence regarding abortion. I don't see it as a means of birth control, but I do believe some situations call for it, mental and physical health of the mother at the front of that. That said, this is MY view. I don't care what your view is. I will listen to it, but I won't let you try to force me to change to my mind because you think your view is the only right one. You have your right to yours, just as I have a right to mine. Comments to the contrary will be deleted. * End Digression *

I named the father of the child as my long time boyfriend, who had broken up with me over the summer. I didn't expect anything from him and I made that very clear. Thing is I've always been good at math and it turns out the ex could count to, but he let the whole thing go forward and he was supportive in his own, but I didn't rely on him. Now please note that I'm not proud of myself. I can blame hormones and trauma and shock and whatever, but it was still me that did it. No one else.

The person that was/is the father was told flat out that he wasn't ('dated' him a month after the ex, and a month before the attack). Again, I made that decision. We were both in college. I was not moving to where he was, he wasn't moving to where I was (NY vs Alabama). We sure as heck weren't going to get married. We both needed to do what was best for the baby and for us. The problem with that, is I made ALL of the decisions for both of us without ever once giving him the opportunity to be included or to step up. Because I knew what was best for all parties involved and that was that. (Yes I was equally obnoxious at 19 as I am at 40). We completely lost touch after that.

Once I was willing to admit who the father was I tried to make sure the adoptive parents knew. I wasn't given that opportunity, thanks to my crap lawyer. I was supposed to get to meet them in person at the hospital after the delivery. It was scheduled and everything. So I was going tell them then. My lawyer decided to cancel the meeting and not bother to tell me about it. The baby went home with them, I signed the rest of the relinquishment papers. Life moved on.

Ex and I completely fell apart that summer. Not surprising. Wasn't mean to be. He and I did come to terms with the truth regarding who the father was a few years later and we both went our separate ways.

I kept track over the years of where the baby was, (I chose the parents and the name was distinct as well as the husband's profession). Called them once, okay Ken did - he is so fearless, just before Alex turned 12 to see if his hearing was fine, as my doctor requested we check if we could since we were doing genetic testing to try to find cause and possibility of passing it down to any other children. Ken reached Alex's mom and she was VERY nice on the phone (though I'm absolutely sure I'm the last person she expected when she picked up the phone that afternoon) and I finally got a chance to thank them through her.

As most of you know, I didn't try to make contact again till after Alex turned 18. And I promised to only make contact with the parents. Contact was made. They were/are very nice about all of it. They directed Alex to me this past May and its been a heck of ride.

But during all those years I was never able to find Alex's biological dad again, so I could set him straight and let him know. Because he did deserve to know. His university's alumni association wasn't very helpful, kudos to them actually. Google failed time and again and I didn't know his middle name, which might have helped. I'd search a couple of times a year and try to figure out what the heck I was going to say when I found him, how to explain why I did what I did.

In October Alex and I were chatting via IM and he was asking questions about his biological father (BF) that I couldn't answer. I could tell him where he went too school, what he looked like, what his major was, about how old he was. Both nothing about his heritage or how or where he grew up, nothing about siblings, family, etc. So Alex started Googling and actually got a couple of useful hits and sent the links to me. I hit the websites and the pictures looked like him. So I told Alex I would reach out. Yeah I was terrified, but this wasn't about me. It was about hooking them up and righting the wrong from 21 years ago.

So I hit LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter and Namyz and as vaguely as I could asked if he was so and so from such and such and if he remembered the little brunette across the street. That was a Friday. I stalked my email ALL NIGHT waiting for a response. And there it was. The time had come. So I told him. He was shocked, happy, surprised, angry and forgiving.

Emails passed back and forth. He gave me contact information to give to Alex. He (the BF) and I had a really long talk a few days later where I got to explain why I did what I did so long ago. And to apologize and to promise to do everything I could do to make sure nothing was hidden about Alex and me and him ever again going forward. BF was sent pictures of Alex. Alex was given links to pictures of his BF.

Ken was told. BF was brought into WoW, because that is where Alex and I hook up mainly and they finally got to hook up in game and BF was ecstatic and Alex got to ask a lot of questions and Ken helped facilitate all of that too. And I got to watch and add my input and just see how well the two of them interacted. Ken was actually on the phone with Alex's BF during the whole exchange, since Ken was running him through some quests in WoW and talking is so much easier than typing for people that can hear. I think because of Wow, Ken and BF have talked more in the past 6 weeks then BF and I ever did in the past 21 years. And it's all good. I know they are discussing me some. I don't know what's being said, maybe they'll share that with me some day. But they are not obligated to do so.

The whole thing drove home to Ken a 20 + year old habit I have that drives him nuts. I will make decisions for most parties involved in something important, because I decide, after going through all the possible outcomes in my head, that I will just make the outcome I want to happen happen. That way I don't have to risk disappointment of someone not coming through for me and since the decisions are mine, whether they affect others, the responsibility is mine. If I know (or rather think I know) the other can't/won't step up, I will fill the gap by making sure they aren't ever asked to do so. It's certainly not fair to them, but it is the way I am. I am aware of this and trying to work on this, though not nearly quickly enough for all parties involved.

Alex's BF really really wants to talk to Alex on the phone ( I don't blame him ). Alex made a promise to himself that when he does get around to contacting either of us that way (its only been internet - Facebook, instant messaging, WoW and email for he and I) he will call me first. Only then will he call his BF. His BF is very close geographically and has a 2 year old son, so Alex has a half sibling. So they could definitely hook up in person well before he and I would be able to do so. And you know, I'm okay with all of that. I've told Alex he can call his BF first. He has said he's standing by his decision. And since Alex is driving this part of the show, all I can do is step back and watch and answer any questions from all involved parties and wait. And while, as we can all see now, that's not generally my way, I can be taught and I learn from my actions. Even if I'm not quick to change.

But I do know and have always known that every action has a consequence. Don't ever do something if you aren't able to face those consequences later. And no matter what I am or what people think of me, one thing I've learned in the past 20 years is to take responsibility for myself and my actions.

Something Tangible

In this day and age of internet and digital media, I'm probably a throw back.

While I love Facebook, Twitter, blogs and Plurk and my digital cameras and my iPhone and my netBook, there are things that I want to be able put my hands on (for the smart alecs that read this - yes I know the cameras and the netBook and iPhone are tangible :-P ). There are also things I want to give to people.

Sometimes it is hand knits. Sometimes it is a piece of jewelry that reminds be of the person that gets it. Sometimes it is just a little something to let them know I saw this and it made me think of them.

Last year I gave our neighbor a necklace with a teacher pendant because I thought she'd like to have it for the new school year and I had no clue at the time when her birthday was. At the same time I got myself one similar that says " laugh often... love much." Both things that were very difficult after the year of failed fertility trials. But also things that I needed to remember.

As most of my readers know, my biological son was given my contact information by his parents starting in May of this year and he used it. Now he and I have never actually spoken (okay not since the day after he was born - he won't remember that) nor seen each other in person. All of our contact is online: chat, WoW, Facebook, Twitter, et cetera.

He knows how to get in touch with me when needed and I do hope to actually get to speak with him and meet him in person some day. It's his call to make, literally and figuratively.

That said, I wanted him to have something from me, so I have a hat in the works that he knows about. I'm also making a shawl for his mom. But those kinds of things are easy.

A few weeks ago I was browsing online looking for new pendants to go with the one mentioned above. Simple statements, nothing overtly religious since I'm not at all religious and I came across a cute little charm for a charm bracelet.

It was a little black enamel Scottie dog with a red enamel bow set in sterling silver. Now Alex lost his Mattie dog (a Scottie) back in May rather unexpectedly. And I'll see a post from him every so often about how much he misses him (and I don't blame him - I miss Smokey Cat fiercely right now and I'd give just about anything to have my Herky cat back and he's been gone 22 years).

The charm seemed perfect so I ordered it. Now I know where his parents live. I can pull their address up any time I want. I didn't have Alex's and I was afraid to ask for it and he hadn't offered. I didn't and still don't know how he'd feel about getting something tangible from me.

It took a couple of weeks to get up the nerve to ask him for his mailing address at school. He was kind enough to supply it. So I bought a card and stuck the charm in it and away it went.

I have no idea if he's received it or not. When he does, I hope he likes it, rather then is upset by it, since that was not my intent. Maybe he can stick it on his keychain or his back pack. Hopefully, as the pain of the loss lessens, when he sees it and thinks of Mattie, he can remember all the fun times they had together as boy and dog, as friends.

But it's something tangible and hopefully worth keeping. Unlike the monster tin of cookies I also had delivered that I'm sure he and his roommates have inhaled by now.

Are you okay?

I'm getting asked this a lot these days as I heal and recover from the surgery.

Usually by people that know or by people that just found out but know our history.

There is no right answer for this question and it changes depending on my mood.

I am healing. I am getting my strength back. I am dealing with the fact that I cannot have children. I think I am as okay as I'm going to be for a while.

There is no quick way to get over the loss of such an important dream. All you can do is take it one day at a time.

And that is what I'm doing. And reading and knitting and watching a ton of TV and playing a lot of WoW.

One day at a time.

I get my medical clearance in a week (I hope) then back to work the following Monday. I'm looking forward to it.

Surgery on the Baby Ward

So a week ago I went in for a surgery I wanted nothing to do with. I LOVE that my insurance called it elective and tried to deny me inpatient status.

Well they can pay for me being sick for years from the debilitating pain, or they can pay for the surgery. They are paying for the surgery and fixed the inpatient status.

So Wednesday was the surgery. Ken and Mom (a.k.a. Pat, Shawna's mom) were there with me when I went in. There were issues with the IV. That was a first. They tried twice and the second nurse thought she got a line the second time, but it hurt like hell.

Met the anesthesiologist. Nice gentleman.

Went up to the OR. Saw my doctor and said good bye to Ken. Wheeled into the operating room. Face mask. (joy) Anesthesiologist saw that the IV was bothering me and while I was going under said they'd move that (THANK goodness I was asleep for that since it went through the muscle of my forearm) and asked if I was right handed.

Next thing I know, I'm waking up in recovery an hour early and no one was there. Not their fault. The surgery took half the time they expected it to take. Mom and Shawna showed up shortly and the nurse called Ken for me and told him where I was.

Turns out the client server we'd spent all weekend working on crashed in the middle of my surgery (better it then me). Ken was there doing triage. Turns out he was there till 1 pm the next day getting it up and running. Of course I told him it was okay to be there than at the hospital. It needed to be taken care of and I was being taken care of. Made some quick text runs to make sure the dogs were taken care of for the night. Did the same in the morning to get the morning cat feeding and dog walking taken care of by a neighbor (thanks Carinne) and arranged to get the dogs to a friend's house through the weekend.

My first nurse was not very nice. The rest of them were very nice.

Turns out they put me on the fourth floor after the surgery. Also known as Labor and Delivery. Yes you heard me right. They put a woman that had had a hysterectomy on the baby floor. Granted I shared a room the first day with a woman in similar circumstances (she'd had the same surgery) but the rest of the floor was full of new mom's and pending new moms. The hospital was full that day. They didn't have anywhere to put us, but still it hurt.

Having to get up and walk around the corridors to keep things moving and seeing the new babies and the pregnant ladies and new moms was difficult. When Ken got there Thursday night he was not at all happy with my location.

I actually slept well that night. We finally got the pain under control, and my blood pressure which decided to try a limbo when it's already naturally pretty low. Friday morning Mom showed up and a nurse walked in and said she had meds for my new baby and asked if the baby was in the room... All I could say was she had the wrong room. They REALLY need to be more careful about that.

So I'm home. The weekend was uneventful. Got the doggies back Monday. Thank you Lisa.

Then Ken got a phone call from a Sutter nurse yesterday. They wanted to know how things were going with our new baby... He told them:

" you put my wife, who had been trying to get pregnant for 5 years till she was forced* to have a hysterectomy, in a room surrounded by new mothers and babies and you called to ask me how our child is doing?"

Let's say the nurse that called was speechless and then apologetic and perhaps in the future Sutter will be more careful with a certain subset of it's patients. I do like Sutter. Don't get me wrong, but this time around, some compassion and care to follow up would have been better.

So I'm home. A nurse from the insurance company called today to check on me and make sure I was following doctor's instructions, she cleared up the inpatient thing for me and told me about the nurse hotline number if I need anything.

The kitty cats are taking case of me and the doggies are hanging with Ken in the office most of the day and gentleness with them is being enforced in the evenings with me. Ken is doing his thing and making sure I don't need anything.

As for the surgery. Everything came out easy. I got to keep my ovaries. I now have incision marks on my tummy that resemble the Southern Cross without the central star. My scar tissue had attached to my bladder on two sides. There was excess scar tissue from the appendix removal too, so they cleaned that up. Given the fact that there is excess and by excess I mean a a band of it (I saw the pictures) running from the front abdominal wall to the bladder that wasn't there the last time they went in, this probably won't be the last time they have to go in for scar tissue issues. I truly think they should study it for it's regenerative properties. It might help burn victims or something.

*forced is perhaps not an appropriate word, but we opted for quality of life and that kind of pain held no quality. Keeping the ovaries means we can try to a surrogate later. And hopefully the physical pain will be gone. The emotional will be around for a while, but I'm strong, as the Fates keep requiring me to prove, and I'll persevere because it's what I do best.

It Can Not Have Been That Long

The best doggy in the world, my Cliff the Mutt, turns 12 years old today.

This is the little yappy thing that weighed a whopping 8 pounds and had an infected jaw when I brought him home from the Humane Society December 24th, 1998.

He was mine from the first moment I and my first husband saw him.

I got to bring him home. He was FREE because he'd already been adopted once by a family with a 2 year old that they didn't train to handle dogs, so she got bit (no I do NOT blame him for that, I blame those people but it meant I got the greatest dog ever).

He spent the day curled up in my lap.

He passed obedience school with flying colors.

He turned into a wonderful therapy dog.

He loves kids and babies and they in kind can now do anything to him they want without risk of getting hurt. (Yes I make sure they don't go too far)

I love all my animals, but he is my best boy. I've had him longer than any of them.

He helped me through my divorce.

He's helped me through the pain of the past few years.

And I expect he'll help me through the pain of the next six weeks.

While Oscar is the neurotic one, and Scrat is the fun one, Cliff is my rock.

He's always there when I need him.

Love you bunches and bunches Cliffy Mutt.

You are my joy!