It’s been a while since I’ve started this blog and unfortunately, for the most part, it has been neglected.
I do have my reasons, which we’ll get in to but I’d like to apologize for disappearing off the face of the earth. My first problem was finding something to write or “blog” about. There was both so much and so little to choose from at the same time.
I do have my reasons, which we’ll get in to but I’d like to apologize for disappearing off the face of the earth. My first problem was finding something to write or “blog” about. There was both so much and so little to choose from at the same time.
We had just kicked some serious ass in the Olympics so I could have written about that. Although it certainly was empowering for Canadians, especially the Canadian women, it didn’t hold enough meaning compared to the other things that have been going on in my life. I did not feel empowered at all… in fact, I barely felt human some days; however, I went through the motions for my husband, my children, my clients, and I completely hid from my sisters and mother.
You see something very wrong was happening in my body and it was something completely out of my control – I tested positive on a pregnancy test. Here is the kicker though, I knew from day 1 that something was wrong. The really helpless part was that my family doctor didn’t seem to care or believe me. I know my body; I know my body very well. I’ve had it for the past 36 years so you think he’d at least take me serious enough to run a test or two. I’ve been pregnant 11 times now and have had 5 healthy children and 6 miscarriages – the last baby, my darling Kaelen (aka Frankenbaby) in my opinion, was a complete miracle.
The only way I could get an ultrasound without a doctor’s requisition was to book an appointment at an abortion clinic – they provide the ultrasound before any procedures are done. How depressing is that?
Just 1 week before my scheduled appointment, the inevitable happened. Whatever was in me decided to spontaneously abort. To make a long story short, I was right about what was happening in my body; they were wrong. Now, I am faced with the fact that I will never be having another child ever again. Ever.
Now, as previously stated, I have already had 5 children – 4 or which I have at home. But that was my choice, my decision completely (I let my husband pretend that he had a say). And now, that choice has been taken away from me. There will be no running away from these hooligans, finding a cute cabana boy on an exotic beach, and seeing if I can have some children that actually listen. Nope – that dream is dashed. And, in all honesty, I don’t think Robert Downey Jr. is ever going to bump into me in Leduc and beg me for my number, so all my dreams have been dashed.
I wonder if I will feel any less of a woman after the permanent procedure is done? I wonder what it would have been like to have another girl? I wonder how my husband will take it when he realizes that out of these 4 kids, there will only ever be 1 to carry on his name and genes. I hope and pray beyond all belief that this little boy we had together grows up big and strong and smart, just like his daddy, and that nothing happens to him that would take him away from us. I wish that with all my children. They are all beautiful and talented BUT… Frankenbaby is the ONLY one that can carry on my husband’s lineage – there aren’t any others that can do that. And I have never seen a man and grandparents that have deserved a son/grandchild so much before.
So, I worry and I pray. I’m afraid. I cry and I turn away so that no one sees. I am alone. I wonder why I am alone and that leads back to being afraid. I feel ashamed.
And then I saw it. I saw it and was drawn to it so much. I looked at the picture of it for an hour while tears were strewing down my cheeks as my raw emotions finally got the better of me - it was late, no one was up to see. It was beautiful and felt like a part of me already. Just like my emotions, it had swirls - swirls of blue and green, of bronze and silver, and of gold. All these swirls were encompassed and protected by clear glass – like an impenetrable barrier. I bet nothing could get in there to hurt or disturb those swirls. I needed it. I had to put my hopes and my dreams in it. I had to put all the love that was ever offered me in it. That way, when I would feel worried and afraid, alone and ashamed, I could feel it against my skin and know that I was protected. I could hold it in my hand and feel it’s smoothness and I wouldn’t forget about the love and friendship that has been offered to me. I wouldn’t forget my hopes and dreams.
Now, could I afford such a thing of beauty? Probably not. Budgets can get tight when you are a family of six but it was like a divine power had brought me to this object, and thankfully that same divine power had made sure that this object was attainable.
You see something very wrong was happening in my body and it was something completely out of my control – I tested positive on a pregnancy test. Here is the kicker though, I knew from day 1 that something was wrong. The really helpless part was that my family doctor didn’t seem to care or believe me. I know my body; I know my body very well. I’ve had it for the past 36 years so you think he’d at least take me serious enough to run a test or two. I’ve been pregnant 11 times now and have had 5 healthy children and 6 miscarriages – the last baby, my darling Kaelen (aka Frankenbaby) in my opinion, was a complete miracle.
The only way I could get an ultrasound without a doctor’s requisition was to book an appointment at an abortion clinic – they provide the ultrasound before any procedures are done. How depressing is that?
Just 1 week before my scheduled appointment, the inevitable happened. Whatever was in me decided to spontaneously abort. To make a long story short, I was right about what was happening in my body; they were wrong. Now, I am faced with the fact that I will never be having another child ever again. Ever.
Now, as previously stated, I have already had 5 children – 4 or which I have at home. But that was my choice, my decision completely (I let my husband pretend that he had a say). And now, that choice has been taken away from me. There will be no running away from these hooligans, finding a cute cabana boy on an exotic beach, and seeing if I can have some children that actually listen. Nope – that dream is dashed. And, in all honesty, I don’t think Robert Downey Jr. is ever going to bump into me in Leduc and beg me for my number, so all my dreams have been dashed.
I wonder if I will feel any less of a woman after the permanent procedure is done? I wonder what it would have been like to have another girl? I wonder how my husband will take it when he realizes that out of these 4 kids, there will only ever be 1 to carry on his name and genes. I hope and pray beyond all belief that this little boy we had together grows up big and strong and smart, just like his daddy, and that nothing happens to him that would take him away from us. I wish that with all my children. They are all beautiful and talented BUT… Frankenbaby is the ONLY one that can carry on my husband’s lineage – there aren’t any others that can do that. And I have never seen a man and grandparents that have deserved a son/grandchild so much before.
So, I worry and I pray. I’m afraid. I cry and I turn away so that no one sees. I am alone. I wonder why I am alone and that leads back to being afraid. I feel ashamed.
And then I saw it. I saw it and was drawn to it so much. I looked at the picture of it for an hour while tears were strewing down my cheeks as my raw emotions finally got the better of me - it was late, no one was up to see. It was beautiful and felt like a part of me already. Just like my emotions, it had swirls - swirls of blue and green, of bronze and silver, and of gold. All these swirls were encompassed and protected by clear glass – like an impenetrable barrier. I bet nothing could get in there to hurt or disturb those swirls. I needed it. I had to put my hopes and my dreams in it. I had to put all the love that was ever offered me in it. That way, when I would feel worried and afraid, alone and ashamed, I could feel it against my skin and know that I was protected. I could hold it in my hand and feel it’s smoothness and I wouldn’t forget about the love and friendship that has been offered to me. I wouldn’t forget my hopes and dreams.
Now, could I afford such a thing of beauty? Probably not. Budgets can get tight when you are a family of six but it was like a divine power had brought me to this object, and thankfully that same divine power had made sure that this object was attainable.
So, without further adieu (and thanks for hanging in this long), my first article of empowerment that has given me a part of my soul back and has put me on the right road to healing, physically and emotionally, is dedicated to Six Baby Girls.
I aspire to be an artist myself, so I know the feeling that occurs when someone falls in love with one of your pieces. I cannot convey in any mortal words, how I feel about the pendant that you made. I can’t thank you enough for the hard work you put in honing your skills. If you ever feel unappreciated, think of me because your pendant has helped me through a most difficult time and will continue to do so. I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to be able to afford such a beautiful piece of art. My heart and my soul will cherish it always.
Do you think if I hold it tight enough, Robert Downey Jr will pop over?
