Liking me.

The last year has been my largest trial to walk through. I've been changed for the better, and some for the worst. Maybe even a lot for the worst. I was talking with some good friends tonight, and I found myself exclaiming "I like myself". I've been through a lot in my life. I've suffered many things. I've had to live a lot of things down. And because of this, I was born into this world with a very particular personality. I have some traits that I don't like about myself. I'm not very tactful. I'm a fighter. Sometimes I say too much. I'm not as gentle as I would like to be. I'm blunt to the point of fault. I came into this world with a really hard side. I had to. It's the only way I could have survived the abuse I endured for many years.

While I was carrying Isaac, and while I knew he would die, I was blessed by God to be able to put my best self forward. I felt calm. I felt a lot of tenderness towards my baby, and my older children. I felt a sense of purpose. I knew I was fulfilling a special calling for this heavenly child.

I've passed through some rough roads, on this journey we call grief. The harder parts of myself - - - the defiant, the stubborn, the angry parts of my personality are more in the forefront again. I'm tired. I feel beaten down. My patience have dwindled. I say things I should not. I say things that don't make sense to someone else, but in those words, I'm attempting to protect myself. I made it through the dead baby. Actually, I'm STILL making it through. And on top of that, I have miscarried twice. The losses keep piling up. I'm buckling.

As I exclaimed those words tonight "I like myself!!". I meant them. I'm not my best self right now, but I'm me. I've done the best that I can, and I am comfortable in my own skin. I know my faults, and I know my weaknesses. I'm painfully aware of the areas I need to improve upon. But. In the end. I'm ok with me. The good, the bad, the ugly. There are those that love me, and will be patient with me, and there are those that love me, but can't be. And that's ok, too. What they cannot give me, I can give myself: I am going to (more fully love) myself. I'm going to be more kind to myself. I'm going to be more patient with myself. Because, this too, some how, will pass.


*I've re-set my blog settings. Commenting is allowed.

Immeasurable amounts of time.

I'm sitting here sporting a nice sun burn, and thinking about all the things I've been planning to blog about after taking a few weeks off, and I got nothing. Nada. Zip. Some things seem too personal, and other things, not personal enough. I have struggled with blogging for the last year. I feel like my blog has become a way for some friends to keep tabs on how I'm doing without actually doing the work to find out themselves. You know. Because it's like. Hard. To call. Or email. Because everyone knows I need space. And. I'm bitchy and moody, so who wants to check in with THAT, right?? After all, sometimes I'm not giving off the warm and fuzzy vibe. And like. I should be over my dead baby and miscarriages by now. Right??

Blogging is for me, I guess. Most of my friendships have really dwindled off. Mostly because of my own doing, and also because I'm just not that Misty people want to invest in right now. I remember beginning the walk down this road after I found out Isaac would die. I remember thinking to myself, this will be something that makes or breaks many of my relationships. And sadly enough, it's something that's broken most. The sting of my son's death stays in a passer by's memory for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, and then little by little, people move on. And I am still stuck in this place. And really, what I have found out, is many people have promised to be there for me. And they can't. Life gets in the way. School. Work. Kids. Husbands. Family. This is something I have ended up doing on my own.

And now. After two miscarriages. I find myself caring about little outside of my own children, their needs, and my husband. I buried a dead kid. I tried for something new. That dies, too. I try to be brave, move on again, I lose that pregnancy piece by piece over 7 or 8 days a couple weeks ago. And now. Now what? I don't know if there will be more children for us. I don't know what why my goals are, or my dreams. I don't know what I'm made of. I don't really know what I have left to give or can stand to lose again. Family members have fallen away. Most of my friends have. It's just me. Me and this mess, and immeasurable amounts of time to figure it out.

Miscarriages are my thing.

I started bleeding yesterday.

Today my beta test came out horrible. 108. I should be 2000.

I'll get caught up on my giveaways as soon as I can.



Misty

Getting a grip.

This is what I know. For me. Pregnant is better than not pregnant. But I have to tell you, the worry is almost consuming me. I want to be happy, and I want to believe and have faith that God will deliver to us a screaming, pink, healthy newborn, but the fear of the opposite is so strong. Miscarrying is in nearly my every thought. I am obsessing over pregnancy symptoms or lack there of. I worry if I’m strong enough to swing another loss. This should not be a miserable time for me, but it is. It really, really is. I am living proof newborns dies, pregnancies end, infertility happens. That is not every woman’s truth, but it’s mine.

There is nothing more the Adversary wants than for me to feel beaten down and hopeless. He wants me to believe this pregnancy is over before it’s had a chance to start. He wants me to feel like this is a lost cause. But. In fact. God can create this child for us. His plan is greater than my own. God knows our needs and broken hearts. I need to focus on what He has given me: THREE beautiful, living children. A good man. Steady and solid income. A safe and comfortable home. Health. Love. All of those things outweigh the bad. All of those things outweigh the possibility of loss. And with this possibility of great loss, we have the possibility of great hope. I need to try to focus on what is sitting in front of me instead of worrying myself sick over a pregnancy I cannot control. I cannot control the outcome. I can control how I love and live within my own life.

So for today, Satan can piss off. I have got to find away to get a hold of myself. This isn’t working for me, what I’m doing right now.

The below giveaway ends TOMORROW, midnight. Enter if you want a chance to win.