The Buffy

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My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

The post that writes itself. And it's long.

I mentally wrote this post a few days ago but didn't think I had the courage to write it. Yet here I am, clicking away at my keyboard. My heart is racing and my hands are literally shaking as I type, fearing negative reaction or fake or forced condolences which simply aren't needed. This is what is in my heart, what no one knows. My husband doesn't know the depth of my emotions. My friends have no idea. I'm not sure my family even remembered I had this experience a day after it took place. But it haunts me. Horribly.

I had a miscarriage in the beginning of August.
We weren't trying to get pregnant, but it happened. I took test after test over the course of a weekend to make sure I wasn't losing my mind. I obsessed. In three days, I was attached to the little squid growing in my belly. Names? Check. Bedding situation for our cramped two bedroom home? Check. I was ready to call my doctor at 8:30 am Monday to go in for a blood test. I was ready to buy E a 'big sister' shirt to announce it to my wonderful world of 500 friends on Facebook. I. Was. Ready.

And then Sunday night happened, the cramps started. I went from slight aching to gut-wrenching, laying in bed quietly crying. I went into the bathroom, and there was blood. Not period-blood. I ended up curling up on my husband's lap, silently grieving a loss of a little soul I never got to meet.

Life went on.

Play dates and book clubs and story time and holidays and family and friends and dinners out and dinners in and life just went on. But inside me, it really didn't. I feel like I'm still trapped in August. I've become obsessive every month, despite all the precautions my husband has been taking otherwise.

And I've noticed a trend - some people talk about their loss. They commiserate with other women who have had similar horrible experiences. Some people write about it, go to a therapist, get their meds adjusted. And then some are silent. They stew. They become depressed. Things become gray. The worry of whether they will ever be able to create another little being is their sole thought process. People assume they are okay, because on the outside they promptly moved on. And some are okay, obviously. But some of us aren't okay.

And I'm sobbing as I write this, because I've always been scared I won't be able to give birth to another perfect little blessing like my Emma E. I still haven't even gone to a freaking doctor. I'm scared of what she will tell me. I'm scared of what damage took place in my body. I'm scared she will say that there may never be another. I'm also scared there isn't anything wrong with my body but everything is wrong with my head and my heart.

So, there you go. There is my verbal spew. I'm depressed, and I'm miserable, and I've never wanted another member to add our little family so bad as I do right now. I'm so incredibly excited for each one of my family and friends who is experiencing these little blessings. I'm so excited to meet their new little squishes and witness their chubby little hands pulling, their little mouths smiling. But my heart also has a constant, constant ache to feel that again for myself.

I'm depressed. And I can't believe I'm about to hit 'publish'.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Sunday night randomizer

1. We got to take a little adventure to the ER today. Emma had nasty hives for the last two days (we weren't sure what they were) and after her nap today, things were out of hand-bad. Our local urgent care is located within the ER but it is only running from 9-1 on Sundays. Of course, we got there around 2. Poor kid - they look so nasty.

2. I'm reading a book completely out of my usual genre - Hiding in Sunshine by John & Caitlin Stuart. It was sent to me courtesy of Influenster and I wasn't so into it at first. Now, I can't stop.

3. Everyone and their cousin knows I'm a member of Crowdtap and I've had tons of success, bla bla. I'm currently pimping this site out because I'm DESPERATE for a new phone and I really want the opportunity to host a Windows 8 party. So basically I need help from any route I can get it - If you want to see where I've easily earned $200+ via Amazon gift cards in the last year without putting in much effort, received probably $300 worth of clothing from Old Navy and a bunch of other stuff PLEASE use my referral link to check out Crowdtap! I can walk you through the site, etc. http://bit.ly/UWzKlb 

4. Big couple of months! I was just trying to figure out what all we have coming up in the next few weeks and then was thinking ahead. Here's what I'm working with: A trip to Disneyland (as well as a trade show in Anaheim, but whatever. MICKEY MOUSE!!), a giant playdate party, a vacation in Florida, my birthday, Emma's birthday... that's just the big(ish) stuff.

5. I really need to do dishes.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

I don't just resolve. I do.

Let's talk resolutions. 
A woman I worked with many moons ago introduced me to something called 'SMART' goals. To make it very brief, instead of saying that you are going to do more of something, you make it tangible. "I'm going to run 5 miles in the next two days" instead of "I'm going to run more". When I learned of this method of goals and resolutions and ways to succeed in life, a seed was planted. I've never been able to shake this mindset ever since, and it's actually given me amazing results. If you don't have a way to achieve your goals, if they aren't specific, measurable, attainable, realistic or timely - you don't really have a goal. You have an idea.

So, here are my five New Years Resolutions which are absolutely achievable and attainable and measurable and and and whatever else and most importantly for me, fun. Or the end result is fun. Whatever.



Read 24 books in 2013. No specific genre. Nothing extreme. Two books a month, bam. My Goodreads list gets a little meatier. 




At least one meal a week in the slow cooker. The end results? Less food from the good ol' freezer.


Four hours a week logged back here. Ya know, the space now dubbed the Cardio Room of Doom. (Ignore the boxes - they are Emma's favorite toys when she's watching her mom run or do a Jillian video.)


Spend an hour a week dedicated to my blog. Even if no one is reading my life, that doesn't mean I can't write about it.


Finally, rock some red lipstick once a week. It's not so much about the color as it is the attitude. I'm a strong, intelligent, beautiful, modern woman. At least I am when my lips glisten crimson.