Things I'm thankful for...

With the holidays moving quickly through, I'm trying to be thankful of what I have:

gorgeous daughter
family who love me
great friends
the support of my mom
encouragement to write (you know who you are... LOL)
a manner of supporting myself that, while not really *prosperous*, is adequate and allows me to be home with my munchkin
a decent place to live
this time of the year (I love it from October through January)
having my life back in my hands


That last one was a doosey.

I have a friend who has called a couple times in the last week. She asked if I was still dating that really great guy I met in July. I explained that he's got his own stuff to deal with now and so we've gone our own separate ways but that its fine -- it was never meant to be serious or long-term. She said how sad she was about it and I reminded her that he wants different things... I still want another baby or two. He's had a vasectomy and has two teenagers and has no desire to date anyone with little kids. My friend said, "Well, they all say they don't want kids, but that's not what they really mean." Huh?

People will tell you who they are, if you only listen. I'm sure its not the exclusive domain of women, but it seems to be more of an issue for us... why in the world do women think that men don't know what they're talking about when they say they want or don't want something?

She's dating a really great guy who is not only commitment phobic, but has stated emphatically he never wants to have kids. She's my age and desperately wants children. And I think she'll get them... well, at least one.

She's sure that when it does happen (she swears she's not going to do anything devious, but that she just feels it coming--afterall, suprises do happen) that he'll, of course, be upset in the beginning but then he'll come around.

Maybe he will.

But why do we do this? Why put ourselves in the situation where we're hoping for a miracle of getting what we want with someone who's equally hoping it'll never happen?

I've already *done* the whole "guy with a vasectomy and two teens" thing. I have NO desire to go back there. The guy I was dating was like a life-saver when Bill moved out. He reminded me that smart, attractive, wonderful, evolved men WILL be there for me. That I'm not trash. I'm not disposable. I have value and deserve to be valued. That was a HUGE gift. What more could a girl want?

She kept saying, "Well, maybe you'll meet someone else..." Finally, I put my foot down.

I'm moving in May, back to my home state of Washington. We'll be moving back to my childhood home near or in Vancouver, WA, in the southwest of the state, just across from Portland. My mom, daughter and I will be going. I'm taking the cat, but Bill's keeping the dog.

I plan to live there for about a year and then I'm moving to Scotland. I've already started laying the groundwork of what I'll be doing there for a career and I'm really excited. I've wanted to live in Europe for about the last 10 years and never thought I'd be able to because Bill refused to do it. Now, I can!

My girlfriend kept saying, "Well, maybe you'll meet a guy before you move to WA," or "maybe you'll meet a guy before you move to Scotland and then you won't want to go..."

NO!

NO!

No! I won't do it. I refuse. Any guy I date between here and Scotland is just for fun and/or friendship. I'm NOT giving my power away again to ANYONE.

I finally have my life back in my own hands. There is no one who has veto power, anymore, to interfere with my dreams. Now, as long as its a healthy decision that will be save for my daughter, I can do what *I* want. And I'm not giving that up for any man.

And for that, I am thankful.

Feary wings and striped tights at Dragonfest back in August... 

Edie at the fall harvest festival... 

Oh ya... *that's* why I'm glad I'm getting divorced...

My ex and I have been getting along so well separated that I almost forgot why I was happier now. Not that I was thinking I wanted him back, or anything. But I had forgotten how bad I feel about myself when he's around me.

Today he got the results of the sperm analysis. He's fertile. When he told me tonight, I felt a profound sadness wash over me.

We had fourteen years of trauma, emotional pain and jealousy that resulted in the destruction of our relationship. All I ever wanted with him was his babies. After everything we went through, now he's fertile.

It feels like everything we went through was for nothing. Now, I did get a really amazing, powerful, beautiful daughter in the end... but that doesn't erase the wounds. The lengths it took us to finally get her pretty much did in my marriage. Infertility takes a toll and even the gift of finally getting to bring home a healthy baby doesn't automatically heal it.

It was like having to grieve the infertility all over again. And it made me wonder if things wouldn't have turned out differently. If we never had the jealousy that my ex was consumed with, the jealousy that led him to literally yell at me for three years, jealousy that pushed me away to the point where I didn't want to open my heart to him, jealousy that even killed my sexual attraction to him? If we hadn't had the infertility, would I have had the thoughts that I was going to have to look somewhere else to get a baby? That as long as I was married to him, I'd never have a child?

All the pain we've experienced over the last five years, with little exception, has been a result of the infertility. And now, he's fertile. It was all for nothing.

I asked him, tonight, if he didn't feel just a little sad about all that we've lost due to infertility, especially now that he's fertile. I asked, "Doesn't it make you wonder if we'd still be together?"

"No," he said. "It was time for us to part..."

Huh? He wasn't listening to me.

I said again, "No, I mean, don't you feel sad that we went through all that and it was for nothing?"

He didn't get it. He really doesn't get it. And he's not listening to me again.

That's always been my biggest gripe. Well, maybe my second biggest gripe... my first would have to be sleep deprivation. When he was in the Navy and worked nights, I would turn off the ringer on the phone and when he went to bed, I'd tiptoe around, answer the phone, keep the tv volume down--anything I could to protect his sleep. He never did the same for me. In fact, when I was working nights five years ago and he was stricken with insane jealousy because I was having to try to get pregnant with someone else--something I did with his full knowledge and consent--he would come to our bedroom and wake me up in the middle of my "night" and scream at me for HOURS. Even when I started working days again, but had to be at work at 5:30am, he'd start a fight with me, literally, the moment my foot hit the step to go upstairs to bed. Finally, after three years of it, I told him if he did that ONE more time, I'd pack my shit and move out. Even the Geneva Convention prohibits sleep deprivation because its such torture. I still swear that it was a passive-aggressive way of torturing me... paying me back for all my faults.

But, then there was always that "listening" thing.

When I was pregnant, I used to dream that I was standing in the middle of a group of people, but especially Bill, and I'd be SCREAMING. Not just yelling, but shrieking at the top of my lungs. The kind that makes you breathless and your throat and chest ache. I'd be screaming as loud as I could and no one would hear me. It never felt like they *couldn't* hear me... but like they just didn't care. I'd wake up with my heart pounding, sometimes in tears, my jaw clenched tightly just HATING the fact that he wouldn't listen. Like I was invisible. Worthless. No one would listen.

So tonight, when I asked if he wasn't ever sad to think that everything we've been through was for nothing... that maybe our marriage would have been completely different... he just shrugged and flippantly said he's happy with where things are.

I sat and stared at him, not sure if he was even hearing me right, or if that's how he really feels. I said, "Well, I guess you need to go call her..." hoping he'd catch the not-so-subtle hint, but nope... he started reading to and playing with Edie. I've been annoyed that he spends so little time with her so I couldn't very well kick him out when he's finally spending time with her so I just got up and went into the bedroom and figured I'd just process my emotions and then deal with him tomorrow. I waited and waited and eventually, he followed me into my room seeking absolution.

He never lets me get any resolution on anything but Goddess forbid he feels guilty about something... then he won't fucking leave to save his life, unless I absolve him of his sins.

So he came into my room and asked if I was mad. No, dumbass... just hurt. But what do you care? You're so blissfully happy with TOW (the other woman) that you don't even have a clue what's going on around you! You don't care who you step on, as long as you're happy with her.

Now, I really don't want him back. I have been moving forward and although it was sad, I've dealt with the separation pretty well, but that doesn't mean I like it when he treats me like I'm disposable. No big deal. Like, all the pain I suffered with the infertility and him falling in love with someone he didn't even like a year ago and then moving out wasn't that important to him.

He's living in his own little world and doesn't care who he slops hurt upon as long as he's getting his daily dose of endorphins.

I called him later and talked money with him... we're still getting that all separated out... and he sounded like he was free to chat so I told him that I was fine, but it really hurt me the way he dealt with all that. We talked for a few minutes and just as I was rounding the corner to feeling really resolved over it, he abruptly said he had to go. I don't know if TOW was there or calling or he just realized I was about to feel comfortable and couldn't allow that, but he ended the conversation just moments before I was feeling ok again.

Fuck! I hate it when he does that. Its like getting close to having an orgasm and you feel that first pulse of contraction and then someone knocks on the door and you lose it. You're so close you can almost feel that release, but then you're left hanging, miserable and frustrated.

He always used to do that to me.

I had forgotten because it had been so long since we've fought. I am so happy that I'm now free to find someone who is capable of working through things in an evolved and healthy way. Someone who will actually listen. Maybe then, I'll never have another dream that I'm standing in the middle of a crowd screaming...

Of people loved and lost...

So, my aunt died on the 12th of October. We went back to her funeral and saw my mom's family and my dad and step-mom and the ocean... it was amazing and wonderful. We are all sorry for the events leading to my aunt's death, but she really gave us a gift by bringing us all together again. In fact, mom & I have decided to move back there.

The day before we left, Bill encouraged us to "send flowers" because it would be cheaper than driving back. He also told me that TOW "lost the baby." So, what? She forget where she put it?

I've had a miscarriage of a much-loved baby. I don't take it lightly when people blame that for their own choices. It disrespects every woman who has ever suffered the loss of a wanted pregnancy.

I pinned him down and he told me what really happened.

I won't state it here, but I will say that I have even less respect for her than before -- if that were possible.

Not that I'm not pro-choice, but this whole train-wreck is just incomprehensible. They seriously have no integrity. Either of them. It's really sad, but I will say it probably is best that that little child will not have any further suffering for the idiocy of its parents.

Geez.

Labor Pains

So, a little over a week ago, Friday, Sept 30th, to be exact, as I lay in bed feeling a little nauseas, I suddenly had a cramp in my womb. I lay awake nearly the whole night thinking, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit..." I'd had sex eleven days before and hadn't used protection.

This would not be a great time to get pregnant.

I got up the next morning and went to the clothing swap my mom's group was holding so we could get rid of our gently used kids' clothes and pick up other stuff that would fit our growing munchkins. About 30 minutes into it, I felt my stomach cramp, my mouth filled with saliva and I slipped as discretely as possible into the bathroom and promptly threw up three times.

For the remainder of the week, I felt a fullness in my uterus. I've been pregnant twice before and recognized this feeling. I threw up again on Wednesday and spent the rest of the week coming to terms with the inevitable... I was sure I was pregnant again.

I've spent most of my adult life seeking pregnancy. My husband had a vasectomy long before he met me and although we tried to reverse it, it failed. He still had no sperm in his semen. I was devastated at the time and went on trying to find a way to get pregnant. We started with artificial insemination using donor sperm but it never worked. Ten years and multiple let-downs later, I still hadn't gotten pregnant so we finally decided to use magick and "natural" insemination to get pregnant. In October 2002, I finally did it... I finally had that positive pregnancy test.

Its a weird secret that only post-infertility patients know... When you spend a decade trying to get pregnant, its a strange thing when you finally do.

I remember thinking that there should be some kind of transition period... Like, an other-worldly being should show up and take you aside and say, "Look... Next month, you'll be getting pregnant. This isn't a maybe, but a for-sure thing so you need to start taking these classes each week to prepare."

Its like, you're on this roller-coaster of hopes and prayers for the next cycle, followed by excitement when you ovulate, followed by the *dreaded two-week wait* -- that's the two weeks between ovulation and when your next period's due -- and then, the fall. The negative pregnancy test that you take three days before your period's due, but then you tell yourself that its inconclusive anyway because it would probably be too early to show up even if you were pregnant, followed by one-three more tests up to the day your period's due and then a hundred trips to the bathroom at any moment when you think you feel some leakage.

Then, finally, the slightest tinge of pink. Still denying the reality of it, you cling to the idea that maybe it's just implantation bleeding, but then it gets heavier and becomes obvious. No baby this cycle.

That's when you start crying.

Then after a few days, you start all over.

So, you go through this every month until you can't stand another fucking minute of it and then quit for a couple of cycles just so you don't have to think about it every fucking minute for a couple of weeks but then you worry that one of those cycles was the one you *would* have conceived and then have to start trying again.

And during this process your friends, family and even complete strangers tell you, "Just don't think about it..."

::::eyes rolling::::

So, when I finally went through this whole experience ONE MORE TIME, I got to the "I've taken five early pregnancy tests but they're all mostly no, but with the tiniest hint of maybe a wisp of blue line" three days before my period's due and I'm in tears going nuts because I SWEAR I feel pregnant so I drag my husband to the dr's afterhours clinic and talk them into a blood test and wait in the waiting room for two hours while they run it...

and its positive.


Its like your dreaded-but-familiar roller coaster has jumped the track and all of a sudden you're on a whole new roller coaster. There's no transition... No moment to rest between experiences... Only the ups and downs of years of trying and failing, and trying and failing, and then suddenly, you're pregnant and you're sick and full and your uterus is cramping and you're tired and constantly worried that you're not going to stay pregnant, that this was all a dream and you're gonna wake up and find out that it never happened...

That was two years ago. I lost that first pregnancy and ended up with severe post-partum depression. It ruined my marriage, in fact. I was so ill that I was thinking about killing myself and I was drinking and screwing up at work and all I could think about was going out and finding a heroin dealer and sending myself into oblivion when I suddenly realized that I hadn't had a period in a while. In fact, I was two weeks late...

That's when I became a mom.

I stopped smoking and started eating right. My husband and I decided to stay together, though we were on the edge of divorce... and I got big and round and felt my baby kick and roll and hiccup. We were short on money but got through with some sacrifices. Then I got postpartum depression again and even though I kept telling him I wanted to kill myself, my husband, my family... no one suggested that there was something wrong, that maybe I should get some treatment. When I finally did, our marriage was, again, nearly over.

But not quite.

Nope, the final blow was delivered by someone who had said she was my friend. Someone who told me that she'd had severe depression, too, even to the point of being hospitalized, and talked about how important it is to take care of yourself so that you can heal your relationships and have a good life. All the while, she was slipping deeper and deeper into my husband's heart.

When I finally realized how he felt and told him I wouldn't live that way, when I finally invited him to move out, I knew I wasn't going to let them break me. I was going to have a good life. I was not going to let them continue to suck power, energy or happiness away from me.

I've done well in the last few months, rebuilding my life into what I want it to be and so when I was moving through the last week facing another surprise baby, I coped. In fact, I got a little hopeful and excited. But then, those damned pregnancy tests kept showing up negative again.

I have always felt that it was extremely unfair that pms and early pregnancy are so similar. I truly think that a woman's hair should turn blue for 24 hours when your baby implants. You know, you just call in sick that day if you don't want anyone to know, or if you have faced infertility, then you can boldly go out into public, displaying your exciting news... "Look! No more two-week-waits!"

And then I got THE NEWS.

My ex came running over to my house a few days ago. He had that "You're not gonna fucking believe this" look.

"What?"

He shook his head, averted his eyes and put his hand out like he needed a moment to push this out of his mouth.

"What?"

After a couple minutes of him trying to make me guess, "What's the MOST impossible thing that you could ever imagine happening?"

"I don't know, is TOW (the other woman) leaving her husband to go be with you?"

(Throughout this whole experience, I've kept telling him that the best karma of all would be for TOW to leave her husband and make my ex *step-daddy* to her obnoxious kids. I know that it sounds like sour grapes, but pretty much everyone who knows her has talked about how her kids are so undisciplined, that she allows them to run amok... so its not just *my* opinion...)

"Nope... this isn't something you'd ever think could happen..."

Annoyed, I say, "What? She pregnant?" (I hate this "Just guess" crap!)

(Remember, a good part of our marital problems were the result of his infertility...)

And he say, "Ya. She is... and we're sure its mine."

Whoa.

How could this be, you say? As we've been hashing it out over the last few days, we've come to believe that the procedure he had to remove the stint that was placed in his ureter back in June when he had a severe kidney stone, when then pumped his urethra full of water while they shoved the cystoscope up in there, must have opened some membrane or unblocked things in the vas defrense, resolving the infertility. Since her husband had a vasectomy six years ago and never got her pregnant, unless there's someone behind door #3, it appears that my ex got his girlfriend knocked up.

Apparently, she's been puking up a storm. I got my period today. I'm thinking that I was actually catching some of her pregnancy symptoms.

At first, I had a pang of jealousy. After all those years of me begging for his child, after everything we went through, all it took was some water-cannon action and his new love?

Bitch.

But then I started thinking that the universe must have been REALLY committed to me not having his biological child to put us through all that. And I do love my daughter. She's crazy beautiful... and fucking smart... and strong...

Today, we were at McDonald's (I know -- great parenting, huh?) and she was playing on the playground. Well, she's only 19 months and still pretty little and there were all these bigger kids and this one particularly obnoxious 3-ish year old boy who kept pushing her aside to go down the toddler slide. She was shocked the 1st time he did it, but after that she started smacking him and pointing her little bitty finger and telling him (in no un-certain terms) "NO". Now, I don't encourage her to hit, but the little fucker deserved it and I was so happy to see her stand up for herself. He was twice her size. Now, I was nearby and would never have let him do any actual physical harm, but she was so brave. Didn't even occur to her that he could hurt her... she was pissed that he was rude and she smacked the crap out of him.

In that secret mommy-place that you can't let your kids see, I laughed. Of course, I also got up and stood by and made the little brat give her turns... even threatened to get his dad (who was sitting conveniently out of sight--how's that for good parenting?) if he didn't stop being a snot.

So, back to my story...

Once I readily had dealt with the jealousy over hearing she was pregnant, I started laughing. Cackling even! I was pointing and laughing so hard I farted! Even my kiddo started laughing -- she had no idea why, of course, but it was at the appropriate moment and even my ex was laughing at it.

Karma is WAY more inventive than I had imagined it could be... rather than becoming a step-parent, he's gonna be a FULL-ON parent with this woman who has horrible parenting skills!!!

BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The only down side to this pure entertainment for me is her kids. Everything wrong with them is the fault of permissive parenting. They're not bad people... just hellions due to very soft boundaries. They're already afraid my ex is going to ruin their family. TOW's husband is clearly unhappy with this relationship (between TOW and my ex) and now he's gonna have to face either divorcing (which he's apparently hesitant to do) or looking at my ex's face for the next 18 years.

My ex "stamps" his kids -- his other two children (pre-vasectomy) look JUST LIKE HIM. There will be no question that this newest kiddo has a different daddy.

TOW's kids already know about the pregnancy and, I'm told, are already picking out names. I don't imagine they know about the paternity in this case... or what it could mean to their family life. They, and this little baby, are the true victims.

I'm glad I'm not pregnant right now. I'd hate to have my own new baby be a footnote on their train-wreck. I'm moving FAR away from this mess before the miricle baby appears and I'm definately doing a ritual to cut emotional ties that I still have with TOW and my ex.

Maybe then I won't have her labor pains, too.

Update :)

Hey there...

So, its been a few months and things are rolling along. I managed to finish up my last doula client and was able to attend the pagan gathering, but it wasn't the same this year.

My ex couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him take my kiddo to go hang out with TOW (the other woman) and to make matters worse, she kept popping up and trying to seem like she was all nice and crap. ::::eyes rolling::::

I always let my guard down at that festival -- it used to be like a little utopia for me -- so when she'd show up, all freak'n smiles and pretending to still be my friend, I was always nice to her before I realized what I was doing. Then I'd just cut it short as quickly as possible and bail out of the area. I don't believe she's so stupid that she doesn't understand she's hurting me when she does that crap. And I don't believe she's genuinely trying to be nice to me. Bill says that he thinks, maybe, she feels guilty so she's kissing my ass.

umm, no. Don't buy it.

I think she's just being an ass but trying to look like she's not.

The really sad thing is that she's got kids and a husband who's so desperate not to lose his marriage that he's putting up with her relationship with my ex, even though he's expressed that she's causing him pain.

What happened to the Witches' Rede?

(For you muggles, that's the rule that says we, as witches, can do what we want as long as we don't cause any harm.)

They've already taken down one marriage (although I am happier now) and they're risking another family... I don't get it.

Well, I guess its not my problem anymore, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm writing again.

Not just here, but writing a novel. I'll tell you more about it later, but its great to be expressing myself--speaking my truth--again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My kid's still the cutest one around. LOL I know, everyone says I'm just biased, but I'll upload a pic and you'll see I'm right.

She's got about 30 signs and speaks about 10 "words" -- some are clear: mama, nana, dada... etc. but she also says a garbled version of eye, nose, toes, shoes, molly (the dog) and a few others.

She still doesn't sleep... without benedryl, anyway. LOL I swear I'd about sell my soul to get her to sleep on a good routine.

Doesn't help that she's in pain. Edie's teething four molars at once. She woke up a few days ago and before signing for milk, food or anything, she did the sign for "mouth hurt".

I felt so bad for her... and then doped her up on tylenol. (Ya, I know, it's not good for livers, but I'm not going to make her suffer.) She's been living on tylenol, benedryl and chicken toquitos for the last month.

But as frustrating, loud, exhausting and stubborn as she is, she's still also beautiful, amazing, smart and loving.

She started gathering up her "babies"-- a collection of dolls, teddy bears, and stuffed pets (dogs and cats) and wrapping them up in anything she could find (bath towels, pukey spit rags, etc.) like they're blankets and puts them in the play-stroller or baby swing and kisses them... its so cute!

Then, a couple days ago, she went and dug a (clean) diaper wipe out of the bedroom and came to the living room and started cleaning her little pink teddy bear's behind. We were cracking up.

Makes me feel good, though. As much as I yell and have meltdowns and such, what she's already demonstrating is love and nurturing. I am so relieved. LOL

I can't imagine that any sociopath got their start with smooching their stuffed animals after they wrapped them up in blankets and put them in their bouncy-chair. Maybe I'm doing ok, after all.

Have a good night everyone...

I'll post more updates now that things are settling down (assuming I can get the boss to sleep once in a while...)


Jen

Big Changes...

So those of you who keep up with me by reading my blog may have noticed that its been a while since I written. I've had lots going on lately and am finally ready to put it down in print.

My husband moved out June 18th, the day before our 13th wedding anniversary.

He fell in love with another woman (who is also married) and when I told him I refused to be "the other woman" in my marriage, he agreed to move out.

I was really upset during the time when this was unfolding, but thanks in large part to finally getting my post-partum depression treated, I decided I wasn't going to curl up in the fetal position and disappear. I decided that I would make this the BEST thing that could have ever happened, and I really think I'm doing pretty well with it!

The worst part of it, really, has been that my high priestess (HPS) seems to have sided with Bill and the other woman. (For brevity's sake, we'll refer to the other woman as TOW.)

So, I know that when you divorce, that you divide up your friends along with the furniture, but it still was painful to lose my spiritual community.

TOW is part of that group and so I am choosing not to attend any activity where she may be present, but my HPS... that was the worst.

I had one conversation with her about things last month. She was told (by someone else in my group) that I had taken credit for a specific form of energy work that I learned from my HPS in rituals with that group, when I taught it in a workshop at the pagan gathering that we attend each August. I always gave credit back to the coven, but never named her specifically, because I didn't realize that was expected.

When she was finally talking with me about it last month, she talked about how picky she was about choosing her students and said I was throwing her "pearls before swine"... that they were "dogs"... Well, I reject that. My HPS, herself, taught me that the people who are supposed to be there, will be. I still believe that. In fact, I've gotten to know a couple of those women pretty well and they are powerful, wonderful, amazing women who are perfectly deserving of my trust and respect.

Then my HPS went on to say that she heard that when I was at her shop doing tarot readings (which I do on Sundays) that I was soliciting my private tarot classes which I was going to teach outside the shop (cutting her out and keeping all the money for myself.) Well, once again, I am not a cheat, or a thief. When my tarot clients call me at home, I always meet them at the store to do the readings. I could take them at my house or meet somewhere else, but I don't. If they met me via the store, I *always* meet them back there to do future readings... and give back 30% of what I make. Why would my ethics be any different when it comes to classes?

She saw Bill at a circle a few weeks ago (one that was led by the person who told my HPS that I had taken credit for her energy working at the workshop -- and who specifically excluded me from this circle.) My HPS told Bill that she thought she'd made an enemy of me.

I am NO ONE'S ENEMY!

Although, clearly, I have enemies.

I don't know what caused her to develop this belief about me. Maybe it was that I was seriously depressed for over a year and wasn't in my highest self, so she thought I had totally lost *all* my eithics. Maybe its because Bill and I haven't been doing really well for a few years and she thought I was mean to him. (No one ever saw his shadow, but me, so everyone seems to think he's the poor-beaten-down-husband of a super bitch.) Maybe I just don't fit in the clique that's developed there... well, I guess that's become somewhat obvious. I don't know what the real issue is, but I see the result.

The wierd thing is, in the end, what's happened is actually positive. I am definately sad over the losses, but I also feel freed in a lot of ways. My mom moved in with us and we've totally redone the apartment, painting almost the entire thing, and I've made changes to my bedroom, using feng shui, that I couldn't make when Bill was here. I didn't realize how restricted I was and now that I have my life back in my own hands, I LOVE my life! I haven't felt his good... I don't know for how long! I'm SO excited about my future and what I might manifest... then choices are endless!

And I've even began dating again! Not that I'm interested in anything serious, but I'm dating a great guy who is a business owner, has been to Europe in the last five years (something that's very important to me) and is a pagan. I didn't know they existited! And he's handsome and thinks I'm vuluptuous! (What a great boost to the ego!) I read him some of my writing and he only had great things to say about it (I'm used to baring my soul only to get shot down, so this was a great difference!) He's actually a really great match for me but we both want the same thing out of this which makes him pretty much perfect!

Ohhh... I just got a whiff of my girl -- I see a diaper change in my very near future... LOL I'll write more later, I promise!

Jen-

Meaningful Suffering

So after months of feeling really bad and a couple intense weeks of talking with friends and family about the whole Brooke Sheilds thing, I finally decided to get help.

I went to my Dr's office and got put on Zoloft yesterday.

In some ways it feels like a relief. In others, it feels like defeat. Like I finally admitted that I'm broken. It sucks. I *so* don't want to feel this way. Right now I'm sitting here with a headache in my forehead that my NP warned me could happen with this med. She said that I should adjust to it within two weeks and not have serious side effects but I'm so annoyed that I even have to be on them. Why can't I just be NORMAL? Why can't I just do things normally? Why can't I just get pregnant and have a baby and then be fine afterward???

I feel like my cheese slipped off my cracker and now I need help dragging it back on.

I posted a big confession about all this to my pagan mom's list. I got several supportive posts but the one that made me feel the best was one from another mom who just had her baby several weeks early. She said that she was prompted by my and other posts about postpartum depression and she called her Dr and was also diagnosed with ppd. Not that I'd ever want to see anyone else suffer this way, but I'm so happy that because of my story, now someone else won't suffer for over a year before seeking help.

Dr. Phil says to give your suffering meaning. It doesn't make the suffering better, necessarily, but at least you're making something good come from it. Knowing that even ONE person now will be able to avoid several months of pain, almost makes this all worth it.

Thanks, A.