Due date #2

Today is my due date for my second. For my little girl.

I woke up with a tear streaked face and a wet pillow.

There is so much good in my life right now and I'm so thankful for all of it. But the sting of what today is, what it should have been, runs straight into my heart. I wish that I could have met her today. I know she would have been so beautiful.

At midnight last night I found an email sitting in my inbox from my sweet T. She is facing down the same black day, the loss of her son, in just two more days. Her words were written for me, but I know the pain is hers as well. Her words tore into my heart and I was left sobbing. For my grief. For hers. For my daughter and her son. For the unknown in what lies ahead- for both of us. I've never felt so connected to someone where I knew my pain and joy were so intimately understood.

Trisha's husband, J, made this illustration for me at his wife's request. I am so touched. I will keep it close to my heart and look to it when I need strength.

May the breeze blow gently and the light continue to shine.

Who the heck knows what CD I'm on and I don't care

How's that for a break in titling scheme?

This is my 100th post. Never did I think that this blog would survive one hundred entries. I also never dreamed that it would see me through 3 miscarriages and a divorce. But it did. And you know what? It's ok. I'm not broken. I'm battle scarred and bruised, but those are wounds that can heal.

I am also much stronger than I ever imagined.

The last few weeks I have been feeling a steady shift. I am calm and carefree. I'm meeting peoples eyes as I walk by them on the street and smiling. That light that I haven't been able to see for so many years is shining bright. I see it now. And it fills me with so much (dare I say it) ... hope.

I walked into Cindy's office yesterday. She said, "Tutti, what's going on with you?! You are... twinkling!'

She's right. I am.

I'm driving to my new home across country with a very good friend of mine (this one actually). It's going to be an epic road trip filled with girlie adventure, Rt. 66 memorabilia, and a drooling dog. My friend has taken it on as her new life's mission to put together the most amazing playlist for us to listen to while driving the open road. It's like a soundtrack to a movie that hasn't been filmed yet. Every morning she emails me a  'teaser' to listen to. I look forward to these and turn the volume up with reckless abandon while trying to imagine where we'll be next time its played: stopped at the edge of the crater of the Grand Canyon at sunset? Driving through the desert of the Navajo reservation? Watching the the skyline of NYC emerge on the horizon?

I've come to realize that for the last few years, my life has been... silent. I've only heard the white noise of stress and grief buzzing in the background. But now, the music is back on. It's pumping. It makes me feel so much. The 'play' button has been pressed. And now all I want to do is dance.

_________________


I'm going to take a small break from blogging. I plan to return once I move and get settled into my new home. It may be as long as a few weeks, maybe even months. As selfish as I feel saying it, I just have to concentrate on me right now.

I hate that I left you all so suddenly. It upsets me not knowing where you are- celebrating, waiting, mourning? I'm so, so sorry. It's not because I want to; I hope you all know that. Each one of you and your stories are very important to me. I carry you guys with me everywhere I go. I continue to hope for all of you.

Cycle 23, CD 2

I wish that I had been able to chronicle the events of the last month so that maybe someday I could look back on it and reflect, maybe allow for some extra processing, and not keep you guys in the lurch. But it has just been too intense. I simultaneously feel like each day goes by in blink and like each day is a long battle that has no end.

At some point I owe you all an explanation of what happened. Why my marriage failed. What went so horribly wrong. But right now I'm still too close to it. It's still too raw. The betrayal and anger are coloring my world too vividly right now. I need distance and a bit of perspective to be able to dissect it better. Please bare with me for a bit.

Logistically things are moving forward very quickly. I have filed the preliminary divorce paperwork. Mike has signed. Our home went on the market two weeks ago. By some miracle, we are already in escrow. If things continue to work as they should, my home will be occupied by its new owners within the next few weeks. The cogs are in motion.

A friend asked me a simple question the other day, "How are things going over there?" I used humor in an analogy. I told her that if a priest came to my door, he would immediately douse it in holy water because the evil energy is so palpable. I think a hefty dose of garlic might be in order too- you know, just in case. Sometimes you need to laugh in the face of pain. In a normal divorce (is there such a thing?) one or both people move out immediately. But due to finances, neither of us were able to do that. We have been, and continue to, live under the same roof. It is a hell I don't wish on anyone. My days are lived in dread of  hearing that front door lock un-hitch and seeing Mike walk in.

I used to think this was the man I would live my life with forever. Love unconditionally. Be the father of my children. But now he has morphed into the man that makes my stomach lurch and feel the raw emotion of hatred. How is that even possible?

Last Sunday I went to breakfast with a good girlfriend of mine. We were supposed to go shopping but got too caught up in our migas and Bloody Marys on the beach. I had wanted to get some new Converse sneakers for the long road trip back east (my new landing spot), but it didn't happen. Toes in the sand, a bit of numbing alcohol, and the warm sun on our faces seemed too good to rip away from. No regrets; we had a wonderful, healing afternoon together. So much better than retail therapy.

But tonight as I stepped out to walk the dog, I was surprised to find a package on my doorstep. It wasn't something I ordered, but it had my name on it. Confused, I gingerly pried it open. The box contained a brand new pair of bright red Converse. I was immediately hit by a sense of overwhelming... love... friendship... compassion... understanding.

Kind of like the symbolic socks that Cristy sent me after my last miscarriage, I immediately knew that these were more than just new bad-ass new sneakers. These were a modern version of my own ruby reds. And they are going to take me home.

All I need to do now, is click my heels.