Thursday, September 30, 2010

Girl's Day

Oh sweet mother of baby Jesus is this work day over yet?! Total long week at work. Working for a legal aid program is supremely stressful and I don't think people truly appreciate the work that we do. I need sleep and diet coke... STAT.
Tomorrow I will be going out with the girls for a much needed night on the town. Before all the TTC troubles, I would never have thought about having a drink. I was so paranoid about how it would affect my uterus.
Well, after the troubles this summer and fall, I am letting my paranoia fall to the wayside.
I have had way too much on my mind lately. Family, work, babies, jealousy, money, home repairs. I am pretty sure my brain looks like oatmeal right now.
I am really excited to hang out with my ladies. A friend of ours has a band that plays all your favorite 80's sing-a-long songs and it pretty much rocks. Nothing like seeing a bunch of guys strut around the stage in snake skin print leather pants! Rawr.
I had lunch with Melissa today and we talked more about my impending appointment with Dr. Sebastian. I crack jokes when I am nervous, so I am assuming that my appointment will be like a Comedy Central celebrity roast. Hope he can take the hilarity. Melissa kind of lightened the mood until she said, "Oh don't worry. All you have to do is close your eyes and spread 'em."
Seriously Mel?! ICK.
I am going to do some retail therapy with Helen after work. I need some new clothes to make myself feel better. Hopefully I can avoid Motherhood Maternity without wanting to drown myself in the fountain full of rusty pennies.
I am just out of sorts today. I feel like I cant make a complete train of thought come out. Oh well. Tomorrow is a new day.
T-Minus 4 days until the specialist.
Until then,

Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Hello all,

We have ourselves a dreary day here in Northern Minnesota. The sky is heavy and black with rain. ICK.
Yesterday, I was confined to the house because the first cold of the season knocked me on my ass. Thank goodness for flex accounts covering over the counter meds! I loaded up!

My pregnant friend I told you about in the 1st post came over last night. She was bringing me dinner and going to hang out since our husbands would both be gone that night. Both of our husbands are Free Masons and they have lodge on Tuesdays.
I still got the queasy feeling in my stomach. I am still slightly uncomfortable on how to act around her. I don't ever want her to feel like I am not thrilled for her or that I don't want to talk about her impending bundle of joy. Truthfully, I am thrilled for her. She will be an awesome mom and her husband will be an amzing dad. And I can't wait to be a part of that child's life.
I walked my dog and gave myself a pep talk. I said, "Self, you are not going to cry about it today. You are going to ask questions and make her feel happy."
And I can say with confidence; I did just that.
She came straight from work and her new, corporate clothes showed off her newly sprouted baby bump. I felt one pang of sadness that I was sure was going to send the tears a flowing, but I kept it under control.
I asked her how she was feeling and she filled me in on the new maternity clothes she had purchased.
I never thought I would be jealous of elastic waisted pants.

We hung out the rest of the evening. We ate dinner, watched "Glee", and vegged. After she left, I thought I would for sure crawl into bed and cry. But guess what? I didn't. I was OK. I still had the ache in my heart for the something I didn't have, but I was able to be strong. I was super proud of myself.
I am definitely marking that in the WIN column.
I cant say I will be that strong every time, but at least it is getting easier.
The official countdown is 5 days until I see Dr. Sebastian.....

Monday, September 27, 2010

A second post?

Hello again.
I am sure this goes against all blog rules to post twice in one day, but I seriously need an outlet. I suppose since no one even knows this blog exists, I can use it like a semi-private journal. There is one thing in my life that is the thorn in my side, can make me nauseated in 2 seconds, and also breaks my heart like cheap glass:
E is my cousin and she has been my best friend since birth. We are only 6 months apart and basically inseparable.
We have been through EVERYTHING together. Boys, break ups, divorces, babies (for her, not me), marriages, fights, fun, EVERYTHING. But in November 2009, that all changed.
A little background; my family is slightly dysfunctional. Some people don't talk to my aunt, some people don't talk to so and so, and some people take their ideas of delusion and band together to exclude others. This is one of those scenarios.
My grandma, B and I have been close for as long as I can remember. When I became an adult, she was my go-to confidante. She lived in a small town about 37 miles north of town, and it was very secluded.
In the late fall 2009, she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. She was a heavy smoker her whole life, which I am assuming contributed to malfunction with her heart.
That November, she was having a particularly hard time sleeping and her anxiety was acting up. I also suffer from anxiety so that was something her and I always bonded with.
November 13, 2009.
I was going to go up to B's house and spend the day with her on Saturday, but she called me at work and said that she hadn't slept the previous night and was worrying a lot. It was Friday, and I left work early, dashed home to pack a bag, and booked it up to her house.
We had a very nice evening. I made a light dinner, as she never ate a lot in the evening, and then we watched some T.V. She fell asleep in the recliner, which made me feel so good that she was comfortable.
A little before 9pm, I told her to go lay down in bed. She did, and she fell asleep.
I relaxed on the sofa and called my dad and Sandy to let them know everything was all right and she was sleeping.
At 10pm, B came out in the living room and said, "Did you see that cake?". I had no idea what she was talking about. I kept asking her, "What? What are you talking about?". She sat in the chair and I tried to calm her for a few minutes. She seemed better and then she asked if I would just come and lay with her, because maybe that would help.
I packed up my bed roll and we went to her room. She laid down and I laid next to her. She kept poking my back, making sure I was still there. I assured her that I wasn't going any place.
As I laid there, I was tracking her breathing. Something in my gut knew that it wasn't OK. As I listened, I realized she was only breathing about 3 times a minute. I knew she had to go in.
I immediately went into auto pilot. From all my training at the group homes, I knew exactly what to do.
I grabbed her suitcase, changes of clothes for 3 days, dentures, toiletries, her nebulizer, meds, the med chart I had made that very evening, her purse, and everything else that you would need. I got her dressed, shoes on, and in the car.
I called my dad and let him know I was bringing her in. I called ahead to the hospital and let them know I was en route with a 75 year old woman with a possible stroke or heart attack.
The weather outside was rotten. Sleet, cold. The driving conditions were awful but I knew I had to get there.
I pulled in the hospital garage, and passed her off to the ER staff. I parked the car and found my dad. Just then, my adrenaline died down, and I completely crumbled. In privacy, I lost my composure and cried my eyes out. I didn't know what I would do if anything had happened to B.
My dad and Sandy had called my aunt and she was coming down with E and my other cousin.
Unbeknownst to me, the crack that broke my family would start that very night.
Apparently, my dad's siblings, my uncle and aunt, were FURIOUS that I had brought B to the hospital. They said I should have called one of them to drive all the way up north to get her; that it wasn't my call to make. Of course that was squashed when the ER doc told us it was a good thing I brought her, as she had a heart attack.
The following months were tense. B had to go to a rehab center. I continued to help her. I even got one of my attorney friends to make sure her affairs were in order.
She was able to get better, and my dad and Sandy helped her find a beautiful apartment that she just loved.
Fast forward.
May 2010.... the first weekend.
B's house up north was in need of some clean up and improvements before it could be sold. She had wanted it on the market by May 1st, but we could never all make it up there to do what needed to be done. My family, and my uncle had FINALLY found a weekend that we all could be there and we could clean up, and get the house sold.
Saturday morning came around.... and as per usual, my uncle bailed. Well, it made no difference to us. The stuff still needed to get done, so me, my dad, Sandy, Robert, and my brother Nick, packed up and went up north to do the task at hand.
We spent 12 hours that day, going through every box, bag, closet. Painting ceilings, hallways, walls. Packing up, scrubbing... you name, we did it.
B had lived in that home for over 30 years, and I knew leaving it would be hard for her. I know my dad really wanted to get it done, and I knew she was having a tough time, so I sat with her on the sofa and went through every little item.
Since her heart attack, any over exertion would turn her lips and nose blue so I wanted to make sure she just sat down, and we did all the heavy lifting.
After a hard days work, we all went to the local bar and had a great time. B and Sandy went back early and me and the guys whooped it up! It was some serious fun.
The next morning, I was woken up by Nick coming in the bedroom saying, "You better get up. Everyone is fighting."
I threw myself outta bed and looked down the hallway. B was at the linen closet with a garbage bag. She was angry, cussing, and just throwing stuff in the bag. I could see from the hall that her lips were turning blue.
I strode over to her, took the garbage bag from her and said, "All right, this is enough. Your lips are blue. Go sit down and I will take care of this."
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I just looked at my parents and shook my head. Why does it always have to be turned into such a big deal.
Then I heard my brother say, "Hey, your uncle is here." Um.. I'm sorry, what? What is he showing up now for?
I went outside and the first thing out of his mouth was, "How come you are making runs to the dump instead of renting a huge dumpster?!" Well, let's see. The dump is a mile down the road, and costs $4 a truckload and getting Waste Management up here with a dumpster would cost a couple hundred bucks. Did you wanna pay for that Uncle Fantastic?? I really didn't need to hear his criticism since he had bailed on the clean up anyway.
The air was thick. I then went back in the house and that's when all hell broke lose. Sandy and I overheard B tell my aunt and uncle, "Oh thank goodness you are here, now I don't have to worry."
That was it. The stick that broke the camels back. So my uncle swoops in here and "saves the day" because we had been in your house all weekend destroying your life? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I packed up my stuff and my family took off.
I could tell the whole scene had upset my dad. He hates that kind of negativity. Later that night, my dad had sat down and wrote a letter to my uncle, B, and my other aunt (E's mom).
The letter outlined how for years, little cliques of the family had to band together and hate a common enemy. Usually that common enemy was me, or my dad. That is just the way it was. This house cleaning explosion was not the first time.
But this time was different. My dad wasn't going to take that hurt anymore. We had all gone up there and done our part, and then we were completely chastised for doing so.
Obviously the letter my dad wrote was met with anger.
Robert and I stayed out of the whole situation.
This is the point in the story where I tell you that E has 2 OUTSTANDING children.   I have been around them their whole lives and loved them like they were my own.
Things had been tense ever since that weekend.
Her daughter's birthday was coming up on May 24th. Birthdays were always special to me. I always make way too big of deals about them and I loved spoiling the kids rotten.
I called E the week before her birthday, and asked about the details for her party. E said that she wasn't having a party and that she would call me later in the week if they decided on anything.
I was looking forward to giving her daughter her present. I picked out a Barbie with a glittery horse, every 6 year old girls dream!
I put it in a huge Barbie bag, and I was all set for whenever the party was.
Saturday the 24th, I drove down to Hinckley to see my grandparents and my uncle Glenn, who had recently came here from Colorado. He had just gotten divorced, and was trying to combat alcoholism.
He ended up having a seizure and I drove him to the hospital. (Which is another long story that I will not bother you with right now)
As I was in the waiting room, waiting for detox to come collect Glenn, I checked my Facebook. What a saw really stabbed me in the heart.
My other cousin's status read, "Going to the hotel for  Bean's birthday Party!"
They are having a party? And I wasn't invited? Before I knew it I was bawling my eyes out. I had never missed a birthday.
I went home that day and spent the evening crying to my husband. I had never felt hurt like that.
The next day, Sunday, I called B. Surely she could be a shoulder for me to lean on. I brought up Bean's party and she said, "Oh yes, the party was very nice." to which I replied, "Oh really, I wouldn't know. I wasn't invited". Expecting her to to comfort me or try and get to the bottom of it, she says, "Too bad. It was a great party."
I was in shock. She didn't even care. I quickly ended the call. I couldn't take this.
The following week, my cousin A and his wife S's son turned 1. There was to be a big party. And yes, we were actually invited to that one. I thought seriously of not going. I knew it was going to be uncomfortable.
Robert and I knew that it was important to A and S, so we packed up and went over. I even brought Bean's gift with me.
We pulled up to the house and my stomach felt like 10,000 boy scouts had been practicing loop knots in my gut.
I could tell that everyone was uncomfortable. I tried talking to E, but it was more cordial instead of the camaraderie we had shared for 25 years.
We went up to the deck and make small talk with the other guests.
That's when B arrived. She was assisted up the stairs by E's boyfriend. She was acting like he was her savior. As he sat her down, she turned to E and said, "Your boyfriend is so wonderful. I wouldn't have made it up here without him." Oh for the sobbing out the window. He helped you park your rump in a chair. Get over it.
B then glanced at me, glanced away, and then looked at me again and said, "Oh, Courtney. Hi." She acted like she didn't know who I was. Hurtful.
Robert and I went into the house to grab a plate of food. B walked in and completely acted like she didn't even see Robert. I have never seen my husband look so hurt. He looked right at her and said, "Hey B." She gave him a cordial hello.
I turned my attention to the table of food, and I could feel the tears streaming down my face. I wasn't going to let them see this. I wasn't going to let them win.
We stayed a little longer, then decided we had done our piece, and we should hit the road. On the way out, Bean came up to me. She kind of glanced around to see if anyone was watching her. She gave me a quick hug and kiss. She thanked me for her Barbie and said she loved me. E called her name, and she ran away.
That did it. My heart had officially been destroyed.
By the time I got to our car, I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. The sobs racked my chest and I shook.
I was crying so hard I had to pull over and compose myself.
Part of me wanted to run back there and say, "Was it your goal to break my heart?? Was it your goal to hurt me so terrible that I feel actual, physical pain? Because you have succeeded you worthless animals!"
Of course I did not do that. I drove home and cried some more.
It was from that moment, that I knew I wasn't going to be treated that way anymore.
So I guess May 30th will always be that date for me. The date that will live in infamy, if you will. The turning point.
After that, Robert and I went our own way. My dad and Sandy were packing up their house and moving to North Carolina... living the dream. We were all busy gearing up for the move. Lots of packing and reminiscing. What a family should do.
After my dad and Sandy left, I was pretty down. They were my support, and now they were gone. I knew I would have to stand tall for my brothers and take over the mama bear/matriarch role. I was up to the task.
My dad and I had talked many times about the craziness that had been going on amongst the family, and we had become a stronger unit during these tough times. We knew that we had done nothing wrong, and we knew we had to stop this vicious cycle. As my dad and Sandy so brilliantly put it: We just couldn't bleed anymore.
At the end of July, I decided to be the bigger person and call B. We hadn't spoken in a month. That was the longest I had ever gone without speaking to her. We used to speak multiple times a day. I am sure she used to get sick of me calling.
My stomach was queasy as I dialed. When she picked up the phone, I said, "Hey B." You know what her response was, "Who is this?"
 I said, "Um, it's Courtney." And here is the kicker, she says, "Courtneyyyyyy???" Like she is trying to remember if she knows a Courtney. After 25 years of me being her granddaughter, this is how I get treated.
To "jog her memory" I said, "Um, Courtney Kile. Formerly known as Carlson, your granddaughter....".
 "Oh Hi," she says.
I ask her what has been going on, everything is all crazy, no one is talking.
Here comes the sucker punch:
She says, "To think, this all started over a garbage bag."
She really expects me to believe that she thinks everyone is angry because she was throwing stuff away in the hallway on that fated May day.
I was in utter disbelief. I was at a loss of what to say.
I looked at my phone to see if I had heard her right and I say, "You are absolutely delusional if you think this rift started over a garbage bag?!"
What happened next will resonate with me my entire life. She screams into the phone, "Are you calling me delusional??! Are you calling me DELUSIONAL?!"
I saw, "Yes. That is delusional to think that these months of tension are over a garbage bag!"
"Then why in the hell did you call me then?" she screamed.
"Well, you are my grandmother, and we used to talk all the time, and now we don't talk anymore, or closure, I don't really know."
And B comes in with the TKO
"Well then consider yourself CLOSED."

And she hung up on me.

I stared at the phone for a good long while. I didn't even know what to say. My own grandmother had basically gave me the finger.
Even writing this post, I fell my cheeks getting hot, and my eyes getting heavy with tears. I can't believe it.
Of course then B called in the brigade and I received a barage of calls from my aunt to proceeded to basically yell at me, insult me, and then hang up on me as well.

That was it. I was done. With family like this, who needed enemies. At that point, Robert had had enough. He never asked to be treated this way and he had done nothing but try and be nice, helpful, and caring. And he just got dumped on.
Robert and I have so much to be thankful for. We have a beautiful home, good jobs, great friends, and amazing REAL family. We didn't need this garbage.

It even got to the point where our former family members had to "diss" us on social networking sites. Really? "De-friending" us must have made you feel really good about yourself! And they also didn't even acknowledge when my little brother graduated high school. No cards, no congrats, no nothing. And he was less a part of this then Robert and I were. And all these people had stood up at my wedding... just over a year ago.

There have been a few other conversations between my dad and B and me and B, but they aren't even worth mentioning.
You would think that these people would see that all they have to say is, "Hey, I hurt you, and I am sorry." But no one in that pack has the integrity to say they were wrong. They would rather band together and keep feeding into their own delusions; even if it means cutting out family.

This whole situation has taught me that blood is NOT thicker than water. Just because you share the same bloodline as someone, doesn't automatically make them your family. Real family doesn't hurt you like this. Real family doesn't hack you off at the knees and then wonder why you don't get up and beg for more.
I thank God every day for my amazing husband, brothers, sister, parents, friends, and everything else good and positive in my life.

There had been a little dig said at me today that caused me to write this. I in no way expected it to be this long, but as soon as the words came out, it started flooding out and I knew I just had to get it all out there.
It was amazingly therapeutic to get this all out in the open. I hope some day those people can put down the hate, and truly own up to what they did, and apologize for the hurt and damage they have done. I won't hold my breath though.

Life is short. Love the ones in your life wholly and completely. Be true. Be honest. Have respect and integrity. Be sure of who you are.
And repeat this to yourself, "I am sure of my path."
I know I am.

Just Another Manic Monday..... and the cast of characters

Ugh. Mondays.
In my younger,. waitressing days, I would hit the decks running on Monday mornings. I worked 70 hours a week between the school, the foster home, and the restaurant. Now, I wouldn't be running, I would just be hitting the deck; face first.
I have been up since 3am. Robert, bless his heart, was snoring like a chainsaw last night. That's what the Minnesota dry air will do for you. I know it wasn't his fault but MAN! I seriously thought about giving him a sock in the mouth last night.

I am surprised how much this blog is meaning to me. I didn't realize how badly I needed to get things off my chest and express how this whole journey has affected me. I have even discovered other mothers, and women who are going through the same things and having the same feelings I am. It is nice to know I am not alone out there.

This will be the post where I introduce you to the people in my life. I will probably talk about them a lot in this blog, so I suppose I better introduce them no to avoid further confusion.

Robert: My spectacular husband and partner.

Dan: My roommate and dearest friend ever. (Although he is completely in the dark about Robert and I TTC and the miscarriage, and the specialist... it is just easier that way)

Dad and Sandy: My dad and Step Mom... the most wonderful people I know.

Ken and Mom: My step dad and Mom... Mom and I are closer now, we weren't when I was growing up. I am glad things are beginning to change.

Melissa: My best friend. I love her and appreciate her more than she will probably ever know. Her ability to say the exact right thing at the exact right time, has mended more then a few broken heart moments.

Helen: My other amazing friend. Her cynical outlook and quips keep me laughing, and grounded.

Well, those are the big players. I will introduce you to more, but those are the starring roles in this thing I called life.
We are T minus 7 days to my appointment with the specialist... ::instant stomachache::

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Sunday Funday

Hello all,

This weekend was pretty awesome. My roommate Dan was out of town so Robert and I had the house to ourselves. Having a roommate is wonderful, but it is nice to have a little alone time. Robert and I stopped by the RedBox and got a few movies, picked up some steaks, and had a wonderful date night last night. It was so nice to get that quality time.

We woke up this morning and it was all about winterization of the Kile compound. I called in reinforcements, a.k.a my baby brothers. Nick is 21, and a solider in the US Army. I am proud of him daily. Joel is 18 and the spitting image of me. He is in college, and doing what he is supposed to do. He makes me proud every day as well.
I started the day with making a huge vat of spaghetti sauce. I pride myself on my cooking and food is always a good bribe to get the boys to come and help!
When the boys got here, they got all the windows caulked and plasticed. The house is now ready for anything the Minnesota winter wants to throw at us. We had a great meal. Lots of jokes, talking, and a all around nice vibe. But I couldn't shake this nagging feeling, like something was missing. I knew exactly what it was.

I suppose this is where I tell you that I love to be needed. I love cooking big meals, cleaning up, packing away the left overs, making my husband's lunch, and making sure all the people in my life are taken care of. It is what I do. I think my brothers see that part in me and make it really easy for me to take care of them. That's why I know that nagging feeling is me wanting to be a mother. When I do the dishes, I think of what it would be like for Robert to be letting the dog outside, me telling the kids to get out of the kitchen while I clean, basically living the dream I so desperately want. Sometimes it is hard to pretend that these little things don't get me down, but I have gotten very good at hiding it.

This day was amazing and I couldn't love my family more. I guess I would only hope to share the immense amount of love that I have, with a child. I know it will happen, but sometimes I still get down.
I hope my brothers know how much them needing me is really making me feel appreciated and needed. Thanks boys.

Tomorrow is Monday, which means I am 1 week away from my appointment with the specialist. Hopefully my anxiety calms before then.

Friday, September 24, 2010

I guess this is just the beginning.....

Well, hello out there.
My name is Courtney. I am 25 years old, and I married to my best friend in the entire world, Robert.
We have been married for a little over a year.
We knew right away that we were going to have children, and we felt pretty good about our preparedness. Robert and I both have full time jobs, we own our home, we have extensive retirement plans, and we have the know-how to become wonderful parents.
So, in October 2009, I went off the pill. Oh man, what a feeling that was. I was basically thinking OK, if we have sex now, I will be PREGNANT! I was positively giddy the entire first month, thinking for sure that I was pregnant.
Well, first period without birth control came on with a vengeance. I was slightly bummed, but I couldn't get too down, I mean, hey! It was my first month!

Robert and I continued to try for a few more months. One month my period was over a week late and I was so excited I could barely stand it. I took a HPT and it was negative! Grrr.. my period arrived the next day and I was really crushed about that. Up until that point, Robert and I hadn't shared our TTC aspirations with anyone, but after the late period had crushed us, we broke down and told my dad and step-mom. My dad and Step-mom, John and Sandy, are basically my best friends. Sandy has been there for me every step of the way and I don't know what I would do without my dad.
They were both so supportive and offered up there never-ending wisdom and advice. My dad, being ever so inspiring, tells me something I have had a hard time grasping; "Let go, and let God". That, my friends, is easier said than done.
I know God will choose my path, and my confidence in Him is strong, but it begs the question: Why not me? Why do all these people get to have children that abuse them, starve them, treat them horribly? While my loving husband and I are struggling so?
We decided to take my parents advice and not think about it. So we didn't.
In August, my period was once again late. UGH. I didn't even want to think about it. I kept telling myself not to get excited, but son of a gun, I was! Could this be it? Am I pregnant now? I took a HPT and the test was inconclusive. I decided to see my OB and get a blood test. I was told by so many people that some times the HGC doesn't always show up in the urine.
I was nervous to go in, but I did. I waited anxiously at work for the doctor to call with the results.
When I hadn't heard from her, I gave a call.
The doctor said that I had an egg that had implanted, and then decided not to stay put. And apparently, the embryo won't "expel" on it's own, so I was going to need to take medication for the next 10 days to help with the "expelling" process. (By the way, the receptionist kept using that work "expel" and I wanted to reach into the phone and rip her lips off. Like, "I am sorry your potential child you want to badly wont expel on it's own, you need drugs for that.")
That weekend was like a nightmare. And to make matters worse, my dear friend announced her pregnancy. Unplanned, and easy.
When they told me, it was like being hit in the face with a stack of bricks. I cried when she told me. Tears were 90% happy for her and 10% sadness for me. It makes me sick that I have jealousy issues, but I know they are normal feelings. She and her husband will be amazing parents and I am thrilled for them, but my heart still breaks for me.

Now here we are. September. I just got over my period a few days ago. Still no baby. So, I bit the bullet. I am seeing a specialist on Oct. 4. Apparently he delivered me. I guess if I survived, he must be OK. I am paranoid about seeing a male doctor, as I, like every other teen of the 90's, have seen "Hand that Rocks the Cradle".... sheesh. Although, this man is supposed to be the best of the best. Keep your fingers crossed.

I think the thing that makes writing this blog so easy, is that I am not sure anyone will see it. Maybe when I finally become pregnant, I will share it. But otherwise, it is like my own secret release. And for that, I am sublimely grateful.