Archive for October, 2009



October 17, 2009

With all the drama we’ve faced lately with Blithe’s medical issues, I’ve started to wonder if that crappy HMO did a good enough job on my husband’s vasectomy.

I mean, it would be just my luck for them to have screwed that up.

So I’ve asked for him to provide me with a sample so that I can be sure there are no swimmers hanging around.  It’s funny, really, to think about how we struggled with infertility and now I’m a fanatic about making sure he’s utterly infertile.

Recently I caught myself thinking about what I’d do if I did find myself pregnant.  Because there’s not enough other shit for me to worry about.  Apparently.

Countless doctors told me the baby probably wouldn’t make it if I got pregnant.  Even more told me it would be a danger to my life if I tried to carry a pregnancy to term, and even more perilous for me to try and give birth.

But what would I do?  Could I end a pregnancy when (I think) I would love to have another child?  What if it was the boy we always hoped for?  Could I take the risk of leaving behind my precious girls and my husband for a child I’d never met?

I don’t know.  I don’t want to know. 

Which is why I have in my possession a little plastic cup.  Because I never, ever want to have to make that choice.

Babe?  Time to make a deposit.



October 12, 2009

I’ve gone back to therapy, and let me just tell you.  A good therapist is worth their weight in gold.  And chocolate.  And orgasms.  What?  It’s true.

Mine has an EMDR machine, which traditional therapists kind of poo-poo, but someone like me embraces.  I’ve always been intrigued by the mind’s inner-workings, and different ways to access the noggin. 

Common books on my shelf include Abnormal Psychology, the DSM-V and Cognitive Development.  In my opinion, if there’s something that can get to the root of my mind-boggles?  Bring it.

Which is also why I’m a big fan of hypnotherapy.  Not that mumbo-jumbo hypnosis that sells $2 tickets at the county fair.  Real hypnotherapy.  One of these days I’ll post a video of me giving birth (either one will do) and you can just go ahead and try to tell me that hypnotherapy doesn’t work. 

I’m living proof that it not only works, but it’s fucking awesome.

Anyway.  I’m getting my shit together.  I’m felling better already. 

It’s interesting what comes up in therapy, though.  Discovering that I wash my hands till they bleed, and think negative thoughts, all because I think I’m not worthy of happiness and want to punish myself for my past indiscretions?  Hmmmm.

That’s good stuff.  It’s nice to realize I do deserve happiness.  It’s wonderful to hear someone tell me I’m a good person, not in spite of the mistakes I’ve made, but because of them.  It’s nice to feel good about myself. 

And wonderful to realize I deserve to feel that way.