Relatively Speaking
Thank you so much for your kindness. That sentence seems a little meager to me but OH SWEET SIBILANT SINCERITY.... THANK YOU.
We are so touched by your response. How could we not be? How could it not make the grief easier to bear when so many of you took the time to let us know that you felt it too?
So, thank you. From the bottom of my fat fat feet, thank you for every sympathetic message, every groan, every curse, every prayer. You made me feel less awful.
I am.... ok? OK, I think. Patrick did something so, well so embarrassing actually, but so funny that I could not stop laughing this afternoon even though it was rather public. I think anybody who has to stuff their hands in their mouth to try to keep from laughing cannot be TOO damaged. Well, I hope so at any rate.
- Now I have to tell you what it was because if I was reading this I would be, like, what, WHAT? I want to laugh, too, what happened? Briefly: I woke up this morning at 5am and tried to figure out what was wrong. Patrick? Sleeping. Heart? Broken but healing. Steve? Present and peaceful with one foot behind my knee, as per usual. Eye? Gummed shut.
Oh for the love of.... pink eye! Somehow in the midst of this total suckitude I, and I alone in the family, have managed to pick up an incredibly gross case of conjunctivitis. So I abandoned my position by the phone (total number of days I waited for calls from my OB/perinatalogist's office/hospital where terminations are permitted under very special circumstances only to be ultimately jerked around and disappointed: 6) and trotted off to my primary care physician. As it so happened Steve had an appointment scheduled in the same building to visit an orthopedist this morning so we carpooled. Patrick came with me to see my doctor during which time he listened attentively to the man repeatedly describe my eye as "gunky". Then we went upstairs to where Steve was waiting in a quiet lobby full of magazine-readers. Steve asked how my appointment was and Patrick obliged by responding on my behalf at the top of his lungs. "PINK EYE!" he bellowed. "Mommy has PINK EYE! The doctor said it was really gunky!" I blushed and tried to shush him as every person in the place stopped reading to stare at us. Patrick then scrambled on my lap and put his face up to mine and said, "Let me see that eye, Mommy! COME ON! How pink is it? Bright pink? Show me your eye! Lemme see it!"
I couldn't stop laughing. And remind me to never ever ever bring this kid with me to the gynecologist.
Not much else to share here. As I alluded to above I am still mostly in medical limbo and too tired and sad and annoyed by the situation to talk about it right now. I just wanted to check in to say thank you and to tell you that I am ok. More than ok I guess because I am still capable of joy and silliness and irritation by my consistent inability to prepare rice noodles at home. Of course, I also sat down on my bathroom floor today and cried until I thought I might throw up. When I cannot overcome it any more I just let myself wallow and I find that usually does the trick.
I hope you are all very well indeed.
(PS. I just read this and I guess it wasn't THAT funny: "So you have pink eye? And your son mentioned this obvious fact in public? Ah ha ha. Very amusing." However, it seemed that funny at the time. Possibly I was merely hysterical.)
Still here grieving with you. But, I think that's the funny thing about life -- we go on living through the grief and heartache. I saw (on Oprah!) Dick Ebersol's wife talking about losing her son in a plane crash. She said she always thought if one of her children died, she would just curl up in a ball and never move again. She said she's still amazed that through it all, she keeps on living, and laughing, and loving. It's a good thing, I think.
I hope the medical limbo ends, and that the hand stuffing laughter outshines the wallowing in time.
Posted by: Brandee | April 19, 2006 at 10:24 PM
So glad to hear you can laugh through the pain. I think you should take Patrick to the GYN with you - I would LOVE to hear what he comes out with from that visit. Sending postive thoughts your way.
Take Care
Posted by: Carrie | April 19, 2006 at 10:24 PM
You have such a great head on your shoulders. And hair to boot, I might add.
I'm so glad you're holding up. As per your usual. Your comment about the bathroom floor crying spell made me cry. Real tears.
I can only hope that this is the LAST TIME (for the love of God!) that you have to go through this.
And you're right - your number of soothing comments IS impressive. It's nice to know your computer loves you, isn't it?
Posted by: Lena | April 19, 2006 at 10:36 PM
I'm so glad to hear from you. Hug that sweet, sweet little boy. And what a delight he is. Truly. :)
Posted by: Rach | April 19, 2006 at 10:37 PM
All you've been through, only to be held in medical limbo? Yowza.
Patrick is one funny bunny, though. And that's a good thing to have around.
Posted by: Saartje | April 19, 2006 at 10:52 PM
I just think that you are amazing...I love that you are delighting in the silliness of your son...and if letting yourself wallow ever once in a while is what helps you to get by...then by all means..wallow..I'm sure that we all can understand that.
Wishing you much peace....
Posted by: Sandy | April 19, 2006 at 10:53 PM
I didn't comment on the prior post for fear of never being read - what an amazing response!
I am smiling to hear that you're able to laugh - I do think that indicates some level of fortitude - as if you needed further proof of your unsinkable nature.
I'm pissed on your behalf over the bullshit I'm sure your facing right now. Pissed beyond belief, actually.
But most of all, I'm just sad. I'm thinking of you, as always.
Posted by: Julia | April 19, 2006 at 10:56 PM
I'm glad you're still here, and laughing with the crying.
That Patrick is a peach.
Posted by: Moxie | April 19, 2006 at 10:56 PM
I didn't get a chance to say how sorry I am about this whole thing before. There isn't much to add to what others have said, just that I'm so so very sorry and so so very sorry that the medical community is jerking you around.
I'd be more worried about you if you didn't have crying fits. Its terribly sad and disappointing.
Posted by: Cris | April 19, 2006 at 11:02 PM
A tiny story in an attempt to get one more laugh into your day: we were at Quick Care the other day with my 11 year old who broke his arm. He spotted the stirrups at the end of the exam table and said, "Look! This thing comes with cup holders!"
Hugs,
Mary
Posted by: Owlhaven | April 19, 2006 at 11:03 PM
thinking of you, gummy eye and all.
Posted by: wix | April 19, 2006 at 11:07 PM
So good to "hear" your voice. Your friends inside the computer are pulling for you and thinking of you often.
Posted by: Carla Hinkle | April 19, 2006 at 11:16 PM
Your story of Patrick and the pink eye gave me a flashback -- my Nick was 2.5 and way too verbal for his own good. We were sitting in the hospital lab waiting room as I had Giardia. Nick befriended an old man and was happily chatting away with him as the entire waiting room listened. The old man asked him, "Nick what are you doing here?" Nick answered, "Oh, my mommy needs to poop in a cup." All heads snapped to my direction. I smiled and nodded. "Yes, i really do," I murmured. Never went back there again. Keep up your wonderful attitude, you are truly an amazing person. Sending lots of love from the west coast...
Posted by: jill | April 20, 2006 at 12:01 AM
Have you tried tossing them with sesame oil while running cold water over them in a collander? Advice from a Cook's Illustrated book that has worked pretty well for me.
Otherwise, glad to hear your spirits are somewhere above sea-level.
Posted by: shannon | April 20, 2006 at 12:11 AM
As always, your strength, fortitude, and the ability to live life to the fullest, despite going through your own personal hell, astounds me.
It's good to hear from you, and I hope the worst of this can be resolved for you as quickly as possible. (I hope that kind of wish does not offend you-I would never wish to hurt you at a time like this.)
Posted by: Natalee | April 20, 2006 at 12:23 AM
I'm glad to see you back online and keeping your head above water. We're all thinking of you, Julia.
My daughter tells strangers that when her brother vomits, I make her clean it up. I asked her ONCE to get a towel for me when he'd thrown up all over me and the sofa. I thought Patrick's comment was hilarious!
Posted by: Josie | April 20, 2006 at 12:35 AM
Actually, it's hilarious. Still loving you:)
Posted by: The Aitch | April 20, 2006 at 12:36 AM
It is hilarious. And a good silver lining to a supremely unfair case of pink eye. So bothered that your doctors are not bending over backwards for you. Grrrr.
Posted by: LetterB | April 20, 2006 at 12:49 AM
So happy to hear from you!
I've got to say I thought the patrick story was funny - and I kid you not, I am in waiting limbo in the emergency room right now. (Stupid slip while cutting an apple. No one is impressed, yet I am not allowed to leave without stitches). Anyway, it is 2:30am and I just inappropriately laughed at your story, earning a glare from doolie mcdrool there in the corner.
I have been thinking of you.
Posted by: nancy | April 20, 2006 at 01:42 AM
Your strength and humor never fails to amaze me. Thinking of you from across the world.
Posted by: lizardek | April 20, 2006 at 01:50 AM
Bless Patrick for bringing you a moment of levity!
And I am a big fan of allowing yourself some wallowing time. You are certainly allowed a fair wodge of self-pity & wallowing in the unfairness of it all - I actually think it is quite healthy to wallow for a while, it's all part of the healing process!
So go wallow (preferably in a corner with a nice cup of tea/glass of good wine and some decent chocolate - then wait for Patrick to make you smile :)
My internet hugs smack of insincerity, but I promise you they are totally sincere - HUGS! Hope all is resolved soon for you.
Posted by: Amanda | April 20, 2006 at 02:40 AM
Arrgghh I'm sorry that you're being messed around by the drs/hospital. I have no idea how the system works in the US but it seems unnecessarily cruel to have you spending days on the phone trying to get things sorted out.
Posted by: LEB | April 20, 2006 at 03:22 AM
Still thinking of you! But if you want funny "eye" stories...... There was a girl (I don't know her personally...friend of a friends friend kinda thing) who was on a ski competition week thing....and she had to get airlifted from the mountain because her eye was so infected....not funny you think? Well it got infected by some..erm....something gross getting in her eye during a particular sexual act (trying to be as clean as I can here!)She was telling someone about this and had one of those "room went silent at the wrong time" moments so EVERYONE heard her!!! Guess she should use her ski goggles next time!!!! Haha! Well ok...it made me laugh!
Posted by: Lady Fushia | April 20, 2006 at 03:32 AM
thanks for checking in. I was worried, now I am irritated @ the system that has left you waiting by the phone. grrrr.
Posted by: sozzled | April 20, 2006 at 03:46 AM
what useless wankers your OB office are - i have no idea how the US 'system' works either, but am utterly outraged on your behalf because you shouldn't have to wait 6 days for a no.
yes, cool down noodles asap and bung in oil before they all stick together irretrievably.
Posted by: pk | April 20, 2006 at 04:22 AM
I hadn;t commented yet. I just couldn't find any words. Accept i'm sorryu wich is a good thing I say I guess. But now I had to comment. I didn't realize your situation now. I now not only feel so saddened by this news but also so fucking angry. What kind of system is that? Just making the suffering worse. I'm so sorry..
Posted by: mijk | April 20, 2006 at 04:58 AM
I'm glad you are okay. I wish it were all over for you. I have never been through anything remotely like what you have gone through, but you are still an inspiration to me.
Posted by: Miz S | April 20, 2006 at 05:30 AM
Ah yes, children have a way of bringing us right into the present here and now - whether we want to be or not. I remember I was pregnant, after a long wait, with my second, and my mother passed away when I was about 7 months. There were days, when my then 4 year old made me insane - always wanting to play, always wanting lunch, always want to read, always wanting love. At the time, I felt like I was suffocating - I wanted so badly just to go to bed and wallow!!! Hindsight being what it is, I know he saved me. From drowning in my sorrow, from the depths of despair and depression, from a place so dark I may not have ever made it out. Glad to see that just like the everyone else, Patrick has your back.
Be well, and know we are all thinking of you.
Posted by: mar | April 20, 2006 at 06:14 AM
Julia - My husband and I were faced with the same situation in January. I see that you have phenomenal support on here from all corners of the earth, and I'd like to add mine as well.
I just read a book in the last few weeks called Waiting with Gabriel by Amy Kuebelbeck. I wish someone had suggested it to me prior to our termination - it wouldn't have changed our decision at all, but shedid some neat things regarding memorials, etc. Plus, I was in awe of how honest and up-front they were with their two young girls regarding the baby's death.
I've been there, and I'm here, and I know right now it feels okay because, well, you do have to keep on living and going about your days - but the hard part will come. I had two m/c's before this last pg that we had to tx...it is lots different than an m/c. Please know you can reach out any time if you need to - even in 6 months. I would have loved for someone to tell me that.
Posted by: JDEgirl | April 20, 2006 at 06:48 AM
I'm so glad that Patrick did that for you - to laugh must feel good right about now. That boy is amazing...absolutely amazing. Are you sure he can't marry my daughter? She's cute and smart...:)
I continue to think of you daily. The sadness may not leave - but I hope that the future brings more joy to overshadow it!!
Posted by: Toni | April 20, 2006 at 06:58 AM
I'm sorry that you are in limbo, but glad you have a boy that makes you laugh (the story was that funny).
Wishing you fewer sessions on the bathroom floor and sending you love.
Posted by: Brooklyn Girl | April 20, 2006 at 07:02 AM
I think 'gunky' is a great word. And I would have laughed endlessly if Patrick would have tried his personal examination, too. So glad you can laugh, perhaps because you are having those bathroom floor moments. Still sending you loving thoughts.
Posted by: samantha | April 20, 2006 at 07:06 AM
I heart you.
It's even funnier if you change the story so you WERE at the gynecologist. "How pink is it? Bright pink! And gunky?"
Posted by: liz | April 20, 2006 at 07:15 AM
So glad you posted...continued prayers for you & your family. Much love to you & that silly boy!
Posted by: Amber | April 20, 2006 at 07:21 AM
I am positive it was hysterical :) I tell stories all the time about my short one and his hijinks and I am sure people are very over it.
I think about you daily. (that sounds creepy doesn't it?) I mean that in the non creepy sense.
Posted by: Kelly | April 20, 2006 at 07:24 AM
I'm glad that your doing....ok(?)
Your post reminds me of the scene in Steel Magnolias...after Shelby's funeral and Sally Field is crying, then laughing at Olympia Dukasis' character. Dolly Parton says, Laughter through tears is one of my favorite emotions"
Posted by: Catizhere | April 20, 2006 at 07:29 AM
You are a sweet, dear heart. Thanks for letting everyone know that you are hanging in there. I hope you get this resolved soon — the limbo must be hell, but that swell little boy is by your side and also about 700-odd other people, apparently. You're like that guy on the Verizon commercial — your network moves with you.
Also, right, not that funny, but you are so excused.
Posted by: marian | April 20, 2006 at 07:39 AM
It IS a funny story, and I have often found that when I'm feeling the most upset/depressed/confused/whatever, my soul craves that release of endorphins laughter can bring...so I burst into hysterical, tears streaming out of my eyes laughin more during those times when something strikes me as funny.
Be hysterical, either laughing or sobbing in your bathroom...and let it out.
Thinking of you and sending you strength.
Posted by: Sarah | April 20, 2006 at 07:48 AM
Julia - Thinking of you and your family during this difficult time. That Patrick -- he is too sweet -- that was hilarious!
Posted by: Janet | April 20, 2006 at 07:52 AM
So glad you checked in. And, for what it's worth, I thought your story was pretty damn funny!
You are, of course, in my thoughts.
Posted by: Sherry | April 20, 2006 at 07:55 AM
Hey, it made me laugh, which I really needed this morning. I hope he keeps you in laughter and happiness these days. I know you need it too.
Posted by: Jessie | April 20, 2006 at 07:55 AM
God bless Patrick! If you can still laugh, you will come through this terrible time. Laugh when you can, cry when you need to, and know that all your cyber friends are here for you. Sending you a warm hug.
Posted by: Barbara | April 20, 2006 at 08:03 AM
Glad you checked in, even if the news is still just a big jumble of heartbreak and frustration. I'm sure you know that we are all still thinking of you all the time.
Posted by: Emily | April 20, 2006 at 08:03 AM
Your loss is still in my heart. But - I wanted to tell you I thought your story was funny because the first time I read it I thought your HUSBAND did that. Which was just, well, odd.
Posted by: Zoot | April 20, 2006 at 08:10 AM
I heart Patrick. I'm so glad you have him there to help you get through this. (I'm not knocking Steve's support, mind you, but there's something about the simplicity of a child that helps us heal.)
I can just hear it now:
"Mommy has DYSPLASIA! Her labia are SO PINK! Show me, Mommy! I wanna see how PINK and GUNKY you are!" ;)
Posted by: Mir | April 20, 2006 at 08:10 AM
Glad to hear from you. That story is hysterical! So, glad you have been able go find joy in the midst of your heart-break. Your grace continues to amaze me.
Thinking of you and willing your phone to ring...
Posted by: Susan | April 20, 2006 at 08:15 AM
I am so glad that you checked in, and so happy that Patrick made you laugh that hard, and so angry on your behalf that you've been jerked around for 6 days. You, and your family, are in my thoughts.
Posted by: CursingMama | April 20, 2006 at 08:35 AM
I swear to god- you make it seem as if Christopher Reeves was a whiner with a bad attitude. That's what you do.
I hope it's just just a front. I hope that all the way down to the cockles and sub-cockles of your heart, you are as OK as you sound. Or, at least, you beat up on pillows and cry when no one is around to get it OUT of your system.
Hang in there...
Posted by: Just Linda | April 20, 2006 at 08:37 AM
OMG, I really should proof-read.
That was meant to say "I hope it's NOT just a front." (that little 3-letter word rather changes the meaning of the sentence, doesn't it?)
Posted by: Just Linda | April 20, 2006 at 08:39 AM
I've been thinking lots about you, which I find odd seeing as we don't even "know" each other. Yet my thoughts keep coming back to you and wishing that this pregnancy had turned out differently. Odd isn't it, how we become attached to our friends in the computer?
I am so sorry to hear that you are still in medical limbo. I've never faced the situation you are, but I knew in both of my pregnancies that if I were, I would make the same decision as you. But I also know that I would not have wanted to wait once I had made that choice. So here's hoping that whatever the hold-up is gets resolved quickly.
Oh, and pink eye? Really not so funny, but Patrick's announcement of it to an entire waiting room is. Nothing like a 3-year old to keep you amused!
Posted by: Amy | April 20, 2006 at 08:42 AM