RainBow

 

Rainbow

I used to live in the darkness
Dress in black, act so heartless, but now
I see that colors are everything
Got kaleidoscopes in my hairdo
Got back the stars in my eyes, too, yeah now
I see the magic inside of me

Yeah, maybe my head’s fucked up
But I’m falling right back in love with being alive
Dreaming in light, light, lights
This kitty cat lost her mind
Been lookin’ for a star-sent sign that I’ll be alright
Look to the skies

I’ve found a rainbow, rainbow, baby
Trust me, I know, life is scary
But just put those colors on, girl
Come and play along with me tonight

I’d forgot how to daydream
So consumed with the wrong things, but in
The dark, I realized this life is short
And deep down, I’m still a child
Playful eyes, wide and wild, I can’t
Lose hope, what’s left of my heart’s still made of gold

And I know that I’m still fucked up
But aren’t we all, my love?
Darling, our scars make us who we are, are
So when the winds are howling strong
And you think you can’t go on, hold tight, sweetheart

You’ll find a rainbow, rainbow, baby
Trust me, I know life is scary
But just put those colors on, girl
Come and play along with me tonight
You gotta learn to let go, put the past behind you
Trust me, I know, the ghosts will try to find you
But just put those colors on, girl
Come and paint the world with me tonight
Night, night, night, night, night

I found a rainbow, rainbow, baby
Trust me, I know life is scary
But just put those colors on, girl
You gotta learn to let go, put the past behind you
Trust me, I know, the ghosts will try to find you
But just put those colors on, girl
Come and paint the world with me tonight
Oh, put those colors on, girl
Come and paint the world with me tonight
Come and paint the world with me tonight

 

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PARENTING is so freaking HARD…

So by now you have probably realized I AM A MESS!!!!!  Not only was I battling severe depression, anxiety, panick attacks and PTS from everything I had been through, but I also was having to continue living and raising my then 2 yr old son.  I am a stay at home mom and now I was a suicidal, depressed stay at home mom.   How do you tell your 2 yr old, mommy needs a break.  YOU DON’T!!!  

I know I wasn’t 100% myself, and I know I could have been a much better mom during that year. But damn it, I still woke up everyday and made sure he was ok even though I was not!  There were many days that Gio would have to tell me he was hungry because I didn’t care about the basics.  I was just going through the motions to get me through the day and desperately trying to not think about anything else.  I am not proud of the mom I was over the past year, BUT I can say my son is very loved and he just knew he had to be a little stronger on some of the days where I was not.

Being a mom with despression is hard.  It’s even harder when you are raising a little person who has your EXACT PERSONALITY.  Oh dear GOD, this kid may look just like his daddy BUT he was 1000% ME!  Mouthy, sassy, not going to listen no matter how much you bribed him, stubborn as a mule, independent, but overall a GREAT baby. He is truly just the happiest little soul I have ever met.  It teaches me so much everyday about being a better human being.  I want him to be proud I am his mom.  I want him to be the best version of himself he can be.  So that’s why I choose to stay home and be a miserable ol’ crotchity mom.

I mean lets face it….  I am NOT fond of this new Suzy Homemaker life I have now.  YES, spending 24 hrs a day with my son is magical and makes my eye twitch all at the same time.  IT IS SO STRESSFUL!!!  Laundry, 3 meals a day, cleaning 3 times a day the same mess, trying to negotiate with a tiny drunk person who has been on this planet for 3 years and knows it ALL, and last but not least still having to be hot for my husband and give him the same amount of attention he wants like I have time or energy for all that! I’m exhausted just typing that!  I eat, sleep and live to serve and provide for everyone BUT myself. I don’t even know who I use to be anymore.  I feel so lucky I have time to take a shower and brush my teeth everyday.  That is my “ME” time Ugggggg I can’t use the bathroom without a toddler, a cat or a husband asking me for something.  Coffee is my new crack.  It’s an extreme life change, but I am so thankful I get the option to be this miserable! LOL

I had a few people in my ear about putting him in daycare.  “He would do so much better if he was around other kids” this is what they would say to me.  “He could learn so much more if he was in daycare” WTF…  So now I am not good enough to teach him how to be a good person, a smart individual, or how to be in a socially adjusted around kids.  At least, that is what I heard when they spoke.  Not to mention, HOW WAS I GOING TO PAY FOR THIS??  Sure I wanted the freedom of not being a mom 24 hours a day.  Being a stay at home mom IS EXHAUSTING!!  If I could have a few days a week to myself that would be like winning the lottery!  HOWEVER, Giovanni MIGHT be my only child at this point. WHY would I sacrifice getting to spend these early years with him.  I get to be apart of every single major milestone of his life and if I dropped him off at daycare that would never happen.  See I think we as a society GIVE UP TO EASILY!  Everyone wants to find a way out when things start to get TOUGH. You think having kids is going to be playing dress up, snuggles, kisses and picture perfect moments that social media and Pinterest trick your mind into believing.  Being a parent is by far the HARDEST thing I have ever done in my life, BUT it is the MOST REWARDING!!!!!  I will be damned if I give my kid to someone else to share all those precious moments that Gio and I share.  Besides, if I WERE to put him in daycare my ENTIRE paycheck would barely cover this new expense. So my 40 hours AWAY from my son would pay just for daycare and then I would come home EXHAUSTED and become the parent I NEVER wanted to be.  Don’t get me wrong, I KNOW some of us moms don’t have a choice.  The way we live comes with certain financial strains. Sometimes both parents have to work to maintain a certain lifestyle.  I CHOOSE to sacarifice all of those luxuries that I didn’t need in life so that I could stay home with my son.  My husband and I struggle daily with money issues and we have had many days where even food wasn’t an option because we didn’t have money for it.  It is very soul crushing to have to choose diapers over eating, BUT I would choose that struggle every single time.  I don’t go shopping anymore, out to eat with friends anymore, get my nails done, get my hair done, buy new clothes or live in house that is perfectly decorated in the exact neighborhood I always dreamed of.   But guess what I do have, I have a son who loves and knows his mother and father.  I have memories and moments that I would never trade.

He spends every single moment of his tiny life with us and we get to bond with him in ways that most people don’t get to.  He is extremely smart, very funny, outgoing, and NOT socially awkward.  He hasn’t been sheltered by staying home with me instead I think he has become the individual I would always hope he would become.  I know all the stress and struggle that I have endured in the past 3 years was all worth it.  I know that choosing to stay home with my son helped me become a better person.  It wasn’t about raising him the way I expected, it was about him teaching me about patience, unconditional love, enjoying the little things in life, and learning to be a better human being.  Being a mom is what saved my life in the end.  Gio constantly walks around in the most glorious mood.  He is always laughing and smiling.  His spirit lights up a room and EVERYONE who is around him just feels his loving soul radiating.  Maybe the Universe knew I needed a strong and loving child because I would endure some dark days.  I am forever greatful that he is my son, and I will always strive to be the best mom he deserves for the rest of my life.  At the end of the day, taking care of him forced me to get up and to find the courage and strenth to survive. Maybe Gio picked me to be his Mommy because he knew I would need his strength to guide me along the journey. All I know is he is the most magical human being I have every met, and I strive everyday to be the Mom he deserves!!!

 

The day I had a Brittany MELTDOWN…

No matter what has happened in my life, 9 times out of 10 I can say “I wouldn’t change anything” because MOST of the time the outcome had a purpose.

BUT THE DAY I CUT ALL MY HAIR OFF……….

 

I had just been exsisting for weeks!! I felt like everything was weighing me down so I took out my husbands beard trimmer and attacked my hair =/  I started with just shaving off the length and made it shorter.  I was staring at myself in the mirror and just didn’t know who was staring back at me anymore.  I felt like a stranger in my own body.  In the mirror was this sad, depressed person who looked like life was beating her down.   I didn’t like the person I saw in the mirror so I kept cutting.  AND CUTTING!!!!! Finally when I was covered in lumps of hair, I looked up again at that sad, pathetic woman I saw earlier and I began to cry.  Now all I saw was the truth.  There was no hiding.  There was no hair to make the pain seem easier.  I felt VERY EXPOSED and VERY SAD the weight I tried to lift was now heavier than ever.

 

I instantly regreted it but what was I gonna do???

We have so MANY things that we cling to as security blankets. My hair was NEVER one of them, BUT the day I cut it all off I never felt so vulnerable.  It was like I was standing in the middle of a crowd NAKED.  I never realized how much my hair hid my insecurities and helped me blend in.  I now was the center of attention and EVERYONE was looking at me!!!!  AND ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS HIDE!

What was I going to do?  I was so exposed.  There was NOTHING to hide behind.  I have naturally curly, black hair, and I had recently died my hair purple because WHY NOT!  I was use to getting attention for my hair.  People were ALWAYS stopping and complimenting my curly hair or now my purple hair.  However, I was use to that attention.  I knew people at some point would comment about my hair.  NOW, it felt like EVERYWHERE I went people were staring at me.  Not because they LIKED my hair but because they were shocked by the way I looked.

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So now, here I am no hair, no confidence, no want to live, and the last thing I wanted was attention from outsiders.  I was already terrified to leave my house.  There were days sometimes weeks I never left my house.  We could be completely out of milk, bread, eggs, toilet paper, whatever and I would make any excuse for why I couldn’t go to the store. My house was my safe zone and I refused to leave unless I felt safe.

I felt like a bobble head on top of this fat, round body.  I never felt more unattractive in my life.  My poor husband would always tell me he thought it was cute or pretty.  He knew!  He knew I hated it and honestly I think he did too.  But he knew, he had to make me feel comfortable about what I had done because there was NO going back.

I don’t know what I learned from this experience other that I WILL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!  But I can tell you, hair can be such a confidence booster and make you feel like life is managable even when it’s not.

AND NOW I know EXACTLY what Brittany Spears was going through in 2007!!!!!

 

 

 

My FIRST loss….

January 6, 2016 was my 37th birthday.  I was pregnant with my second child.  I was 18 weeks and a few days along.  I was already miserable because I had gotten SO MUCH bigger with my second child.  I have a beautiful little man named Giovanni or Gio for short.  He was everything I wanted except he wasn’t a GIRL.  It was no secret, I wanted a girl with my first pregnancy, so I was DESPERATELY HOPING this time around I would get my little walking, talking mini me.  Only 1 more week and I could find out the best kept secret.

January 7, 2016, I was tired and not feeling myself.  I noticed I had started spotting blood and immediately called my Dr.  I spoke to the nurse over the phone who assured me spotting was VERY normal, but if I started cramping or the bleeding got heavier to go to the ER.  A few hours passed and all HELL broke loose.  I was bleeding bright red blood now more than I was comfortable with and now I was experiencing cramping.

January 8, 2016, as soon as I woke up I knew something was wrong.  The cramping was heavier along with the bleeding.  It was Saturday, so I told Sergio let’s just head over to Vanderbilt. As soon as I got there, I should have left.  The lady checked me in and as I was telling her what was going on she seemed cold and careless of how frantic I was. By this time, the cramping was very intense and VERY, VERY often.  She put my wristband on without concern and told me to wait.  So, we waited and waited and waited.  After about 2 hours, my son was DONE!  Sergio gathered him up from his current meltdown and took him home.  I was left to keep waiting all alone!

Upon hour 4, I FINALLY was taken back to the ER and started discussing my symptoms with the nurse.  She informed me that they didn’t normally see maternity cases and it might take longer than usual to get me an Ultra Sound.  Another 45 minutes, and I was off to ultra sound.

The room was so dark and cold.  A young man comes in and starts to perform my ultra sound.  Typically, you have a screen or tv that you can see what is going on as well.  They had turned that off and he had turned his screen in a way that I was unable to see anything. This was adding fuel to my already burning fire of frustration.  He sat in silence.  He kept looking and moving around but made not ONE gesture to ease me of any concerns.  I even asked, “can you see the baby?”  He just turned with a half-smile and said “mmhmmm”.  Eventually he asked if it was ok, if he had his boss verify some of the images. Immediately, I knew that meant something was VERY wrong.  She came in a little friendlier than he was and began the exam all over again.  I could tell they were desperately trying to hide something from me.  She finished in a hurry and they quickly excused themselves and informed me someone would wheel me back up to ER.

I started crying immediately.  I already knew there was something that had gone very wrong with the baby, but I never dreamed it was going to be miscarriage.  The following moments I will remember for the rest of my life in great detail.  I was sitting in my bed all alone in the cold ER in my ugly hospital gown.  The curtain opened, and 3 women walked in with straight faces.  The prettiest of the three (they were all attractive as if this would help ease the blow) stepped forward told me her name and then said the following statement.  “I am afraid they were unable to find a heartbeat during the ultra sound.”  What she said after that I have no clue.  I only heard that one statement.  I couldn’t do anything but just sob.  I wanted to wake up from this shitty ass dream.  I wanted my husband.  I wanted my mom.  I was surrounded by people I didn’t know and they were telling me my baby died.

I called Sergio and told him over the phone the baby had died.  He didn’t believe me at first and made me repeat this horrible reality again.  I could hear the panic in his voice and then he hurried to tell me he had to make arrangements, but he was on his way back to the hospital.

So, there I sat, sobbing in an ugly hospital gown after being there for 5 hours ALONE!  Eventually Sergio and Gio arrived and then my mom, brother and sister followed.  They all tried to comfort me and tried to be as supportive as they knew how.  I decided I just wanted to go home and register what I had just been told and return a few days later to start the process of preparing for either labor or a DNC.

I didn’t sleep much that night.  I had already purchased a ton of baby clothes (all for girls), a bassinet, and a few other baby supplies.  I rummaged through all the clothes in disbelief and fell asleep with one the footie pajamas laid out next to my pillow.

As soon as I woke up the next day, I was immediately in a lot of pain.  What I know now was that I was in labor.  My body was already doing what it needed to do.  As my contractions became increasingly intense, I curled in a ball on the couch to try and get through the pain.  Then my water broke.  My sister rushed over as quickly as possible to keep Gio and then off to the hospital we went.

I wasn’t in the room 15 minutes, when the baby just came out.  January 9, 2016 at 3:03pm my tiny little daughter was born.  She weighed 2 lbs. and was 10 inches long.  As Doctor’s were rushing to make sure I wasn’t bleeding out and that my after-birth was ok, they asked “would you like to see her?”  I trembled and looked up into my husband’s eyes with desperation. He was so brave.  He stood there holding my hand through the entire thing.  I know I was squeezing the life out him with every contraction and now he was as brave as I had ever seen him.  He looked me straight in the eyes and with the softest touch to my face said, “No please don’t”.  He wanted to protect me from what he had already witnessed.  He knew that if I held that tiny lifeless body in my arms it would be something I would never return from. So, the Doctor’s wrapped her up and whisked her away.  I glanced over as they were doing this and got the tiniest little glimpse of her reddish lifeless body.  That was the last I saw of her.

Over the next few hours, we had to make decisions you never think you will make.  We decided to have her cremated and she is buried with all the other tiny little babies in the Woodlawn Park Memorial.  They have a section that is dedicated to little lives lost during pregnancy.  There was no funeral.  There was no memorial.  All I have left are the few images I got during my pregnancy visits and a tiny little wrist band that she would have worn at birth.  I have yet to visit the memorial site.  =(

Sometimes when I close my eyes, I relive this day over in my mind from beginning to end.  I remember everything that happened that day, and I don’t know that I will ever forget January 9, 2016. Three days after my birthday, I became the mother of a tiny baby angel.

Now my birthday is a constant reminder of the worst day of my life.

Marriage is a box of crazy!

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Ohhhhhhhhhhhh how I thought being married to my soulmate was going to be a walk in the park filled with story book memories and lots of gushy love.  OH HOW I WAS SO DEAD WRONG!!!!!

Marriage is an uphill battle, a winding road, a slippery slope and can quite honestly NOT BE FOR EVERYONE!  I am very lucky. I did marry a guy who GETS ME!  Sergio is the first guy I could be 1000% MYSELF.  He has seen the good, the bad and the VERY ugly. He has stuck with me through thick and thin and I have done the same for him.  We will be married 7 years October 29, 2017.  WOW!!  And I hope we will be married until death do us part 60 years from now.  It hasn’t always been the best of years and we have definitely gone through more than most see in a lifetime, but through each battle we always come out STRONGER!

Sergio was in the military for 13 years.  He served one tour in Iraq.  He never knew that one year in Iraq would change his life in ways he could never understand.  He would wear his badge of honor in the form of 4 letters PTSD.  PTSD or Post Tramautic Stress Disorder is a mental health condition that’s triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.

Sergio has PTS forever.  It is not something you can turn on and off.  It will always be apart of you but you can learn to LIVE with it.  I never knew Sergio had PTS (combat soldiers prefer to drop the D in PTSD).  I had NO CLUE what those letters would mean to me, to my husband, and to my marriage until we were in the thick of battling this beast head on. I always knew he was reserved with his feelings especially ANYTHING that had to do with his time in Iraq.  What I didn’t know was that he was HIDING those feelings. He was hiding those emotions.  He was hiding what he had lived through.  All that hiding couldn’t hide anymore.  I am a very blunt person and especially when it comes to my relationships.  I don’t like secrets, lies, or deceipt.  I was about to rip the top off this box he was shoving all his insecurities, fears, and anxieties in.  I wanted a transparent relationship with my husband no matter what the conscequences would be.  I would rather us get it all out instead of shoving it down and festering until it exploded.  With that being said, I OPENED PANDORAS BOX OF CRAZY!

First it was the night terrors. Night terrors are feelings of great fear experienced on suddenly waking in the night. Sergio would wake me up SCREAMING and fighting something in his sleep almost EVERY SINGLE NIGHT and sometimes MULTIPLE times a night.  For him it was traumatic being woken up by me shaking him until he awoke for his nightmare.  He would calm down and then fall back asleep.  For me it was even more traumatic because I would be awoken by this terrifying scream coming from the man sleeping next to me.  He would sound as if he was fighting for his life.  He would be literally clawing at the air fighting whatever it was torturing him through his dreams. Sometimes it would take just seconds to get him to wake up and other times it felt like minutes.  Every single time it happened, I would be awake for hours trying to get my adrenaline down.  I would lie awake waiting for the next night terror to occur.

After the night terrors came the ATTITUDE.  I started to notice Sergio would be EXTRA short and bitchy with me.  I would notice his mood would change at the drop of a hat and usually he was super snippy with me about EVERYTHING.  I could be asking him something simple like “What do you want to watch?” and that would bring on a VERY snippy and sarcastic response or if he was EXTRA bitchy that day we would just go straight to fighting.

The fighting became very heated and very emotional.  I can remember objects being thrown, punching holes in walls, slamming doors and often myself bawled up in the corner in tears.  The fights got way more intense and hurtful.  Words would be said that we instantly would regret.  Then with the fighting came the drinking and with the drinking came the suicide threats.

Sergio and I met over drinks.  Drinking was always apart of our lives but in a socially fun way.  Sergio started buying a 3 pk of 20oz beers daily sometimes 2 and 3 times daily.  I was so fancy that I started drinking boxed wine =)  I would notice that my box of wine was lasting days instead of a week. Sometimes it would be all gone in just one day.  The drinking was becoming the fuel to our fighting and the fighting was opening and creating more wounds.

We attended counceling at our local VA Help Center.  They offered free marriage counceling to Veterans with PTS.  I was hesitant at first but eventually I drug myself to our first counceling session.  The first few sessions we ONLY talked about Sergio and his PTS.  He would go in depth about symptoms or experiences he was having and ways to handle each senerio.  As I would sit there, I got angry that Sergio was the center of attention and well honestly his PTS was getting all the attention.  Then one day I realized, the counsler was trying to get me to understand what HE was going through.  He wanted me to HEAR what was causing Sergio to have all these issues we were there to be counceled about.  When I finally took my feelings and checked them at the door, that is when I started to LEARN how to be married to a man with PTS.  I started learning how to adapt to my NEW reality.  Sergio was NEVER going to change, but he could LEARN to handle situations and emotions in a way that was healthier to him and our marriage. Through counceling, I was able to learn how to listen better, understand better, love more and be a much better partner for my husband.  Do I think counseling fixed my marriage?  Yes. WE were willing to LISTEN to an outsiders opion and take his suggestions and make them our own.  It took us truly fighting for our marraige to SAVE our marriage. To this day we have still had many times we have had to remember why we picked each other to be a life partner.  We still fight, we still argue and we are still learning but we ALWAYS fight for US.

Marriage may not be the fairytale I had invisioned, BUT it sure is a ride of a lifetime.  I believe in 3 things:  Brutal Honesty, Unconditional Love, and Forgiveness.  Those are the three things I hold on too with each and every sharp turn through life and marriage. Those 3 things are what keeps me grounded, helps me be a better person, and keeps me sane.  You have to know when you take those vows of marriage that you will have times that will test all you vaule in life and relationships, BUT if you TRULY VALUE marriage then you will always find LOVE is worth fighting for.

NEVER GIVE UP ON EACH OTHER……..

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And so it begins….

For 365 days, I constantly thought about suicide.  It was all I would think about somedays.  I would struggle to WANT to do ANYTHING but just fade away into the darkness.  For 365 days, I felt like no one saw me and so no one would miss me.  Those were the darkest days of my life.  I’m hoping by telling my truth and my story, I can help someone else that is struggling just like me.

My name is Necole and I’m a 38 year old wife and mother.  I have always been a strong personality.  I have always thought of myself as a VERY strong woman.  I am not one to quit or to give up, and I definitely am not one to think depression could ever beat me.       BUT it almost did……..

On January 7, 2016, I was 18.5 weeks pregnant with my second child.  I was nervous, excited, but most of all I was HAPPY to be having another little life that was created out of our LOVE.  I was anxiously waiting for the 20 week mark so we could find out the gender.  I wanted a little girl.  I wanted a little person that looked, talked and acted just like me.  I wanted to have that Mother/ Daughter bond that my mom and I have.  We were over joyed and so happy to be adding to our family.  On January 9, 2016, I delivered a still born baby girl.  She weighed 2 lbs and was 10 inches long and flew up to Heaven at 3:03pm.  This is the day the person I use to be died along with my tiny baby girl.  This was day 1 of my long year of battling depression, anxiety, and for my LIFE.

I am just like anyone else.  I have insecurities.  I stress about money (ALL THE TIME).  I wonder if I look fat in ALL my clothes.  I hope my husband still finds this new rounder body just as sexy as he did before.  I was NORMAL. I never thought in a million years, I would no longer have the will to live anymore.  I never guessed I would have to find the will power to breathe on a daily basis.  I never thought I would not care if I left my son without his mother or my husband without his life partner.  I never thought loosing someone I never got to meet would change my life in ways that I will never heal from. I never thought miscarriage was something I would experience, but that was actually my new reality.  I was now a part of a statistic.  I was now a mother of an Angel Baby baby and all I wanted to do was not be here.  I wanted to quit.  I wanted to sleep.  I wanted to not exist.

For the first few months, I threw myself into my work so that I wouldn’t think about anything or FEEL anything. That was mistake #1.  My work became my life and then it became my HELL. When my work became more of a jail sentence then an escape, I started to destroy everything to do with work until there was NO MORE.  I was just pushing all my sorrow and pain deep down.  I focused on staying busy.  Then pain turned into ANGER.  I HATED the job I use to LOVE.  I hated everything about it! I hated my sister whom was my partner.  I became so angry and so pissed at everything and everyone.  I destroyed the relationship I had built with my sister.  I blamed everyone for my failures.  So I said F’ this job and quit.  That was mistake #2.

Soon all that anger started being directed at my home life.  I was hurting so much inside.  I was struggling to just get out of bed.  I felt so ALONE.  It felt like NO ONE cared what I was going through or even NOTICED how much pain I was in.  That was mistake #3.  I soon realized if no one noticed what I was going through then most likely no one would notice if I wasn’t here anymore.  I stopped eating.  If I could have stopped breathing I would have. Why even bother?  What was the point? I just wanted to never open my eyes to this shitty world again. I didn’t feel like ANYONE in my life even wondered how I was doing because NO ONE was trying to find out.  People I considered friends never called, never texted, and never visited.  Then again, when people would ask “How are you doing?”, I would just smile, say “fine” and change the subject.  I didn’t want people to know I was struggling to live.  I didn’t want people to think I was weak. I didn’t want to say OUT LOUD “I wanted to die.”  I didn’t want to ask for help.  I just wanted someone to pick me up and do it for me.  I wanted people to see I needed help, support, love, attention all these things but I didn’t want to ASK for.  After realizing that wasn’t going to happen, I decided to stop trying altogether.

See depression becomes your best friend.  It is always there for you when you least expect it.  It is always waiting to greet you with open arms and it’s DEFINITELY always willing to be there when NO ONE else was.  I blamed everyone for a long time for not “trying” to help me.  I was mad at all those people who said they were my friends that never called, never came by, never asked how I was, or never tried to be well a FRIEND. I still don’t know if I’m quiet over the lack of support I felt from these “friends” BUT I do know NOW you have to be willing to ASK for help because sometimes people just don’t have the ability to see.

So fast forward to October 10, 2017. I am sitting at the Dr office waiting to talk to the lady who is going to help me either have another healthy baby or tell me it’s not possible.  See since that day in January, I have had 4 more miscarriages (4 wks, 10 wks, 12 wks & 8 wks). I desperately wanted to have that baby girl.  I was suppose to be the mother of 2. Now I was facing MORE loss and MORE despression because for whatever reason I could not keep a viable pregnancy.  Maybe this was just not meant to be.  Maybe I was never going to be able to carry another child. If you are a woman and your 38 AND in my case more fluffy that fit =) then your odds of having another child are like winning the lottery. I’ve never felt more old, more over weight, and more out of date then trying to conceive at 38 pushing 39. Once again, depression is always by my side in times of need.

See I met my soulmate at 30.  I enjoyed my 20’s and was discovering who I was as a person.  Then one day someone asks “You’re not married?” WHAT??????  Well crap I didn’t know you had a timeline to get married and have kids.  WTH…. I always tell my husband, “I wish I would have met you when I was 20. Then I would have had more time to love you and make beautiful little babies with you.”  The fact of the matter is at 20, I was NOT the same person at 30.  Everything happens for a reason…..

So now here I sit, in this cold Dr’s office waiting to hear either good news or bad new or NO news.  My blood pressure is high and my head is pounding because I’m 12 days post miscarriage.  Anxious, desperate, sad and fed up are all the emotions I am experiencing while PATIENTLY waiting.  Here in this blank room is where I started to write.  I started writing about everything.  The emotions just started pouring out of me and onto the paper like a tidal wave.  With every word I wrote, I felt a little bit of relief, comfort and hope.  I have been through SO MANY dark, lonely days that I never thought I would share them let alone write a blog for the whole world to read.  BUT here I am, an open book and finding I am healing through telling my story.  I want people to know they are NOT ALONE.  I don’t want ANYONE to have to find their way through the darkness as I did.  I just kept spewing words of pain, of sorrow, of loss, and then something strange happened.  I realized I was FEELING once again.  I was excited!  I woke up and couldn’t wait to start writing more.  Wait WHAT?  Is that a glimse of the old me I was feeling and starting to see in the mirror again.  Finding myself again through this blog will be the ultimate healing experience.  So here I am telling my story and taking you all on my journey of waiting on a RAINBOW.

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