The Day His Ring Came Off… December 1, 2012

Eight Years, Eleven Months, Some Odd Days…

I noticed last week Shaughn had taken off  his wedding ring. I had taken mine off months ago. It’s probably been close to a year. I would tell people that it was because my hands get so dry in the winter months, but in reality, I knew my marriage was over even then. I would put them on for special occasions, or family get togethers, but for everyday things I took them off.  I remember Shaughn questioning me about them once or twice, but I always had a reason why I wasn’t wearing them.

Initially, when I took the rings off I felt guilty. I felt like I was betraying Shaughn, my family, his family. I felt that I was giving up on us, I wasn’t trying hard enough for Paisley’s sake. I felt horrible.

At the same time, I couldn’t wear them. I felt like I was living a lie. I wasn’t in love any more. I didn’t want to be in my marriage. I was tired of being the wife, of holding it all together with limited support. I had tried so hard, for so long, and I had just given up. I continued to lie to myself, to Shaughn, to our families for many more months until I had the balls to end our married relationship.

By the time June came around, and I was ready to discuss everything with Shaughn, it had been since before Christmas that I had worn my rings, 6 or 7 months had passed. I had rarely thought of them, but had them tucked away safely.

On June 17th we agreed to end our marriage. I will never forget that day, the flood of emotions that came pouring from me. The incredulity at Shaughn’s lack of response to my utter sense of relief that I could start to live again. I cried, as much as I needed this, I also needed to know things would be ok. I needed to know he and I would be ok. I needed to know he didn’t hate me. As much as we had been through, I didn’t hate Shaughn, I couldn’t bear it if he hated me. I hated our marriage, but not him. Thankfully we have maintained a friendship through all of this. At times it is strained, and awkward, but it’s the beginning of something new; a new friendship with a very old friend.

All of this brings me back to last Friday night. Shaughn came to pick Paisley up for the weekend, and I noticed he had finally taken off his wedding band. I notice things, small things. Like removing a ring. Since June, I had wondered when he would take it off, I was slightly frustrated that he was still wearing it, wondering what he was thinking or feeling. Wondering why he was still wearing it 5 months after the fact. When I noticed it last week, I guess I finally felt closure. It brought with it hurt, and a few tears. Unresolved feelings that I will never resolve. I don’t want to dive into that tank of sharks. It also brought with it the feeling that I could move on, guilt free. I can live my life without worrying about how my actions will affect him.

I want to be happy. I want Shaughn to be happy. I want him to find someone who makes him feel over the moon in love, something I could never do for him. I want him to find a partner who respects him, and treats our daughter like the remarkable girl she is. I want him to find his ‘person’ and not to settle for the one who is a close second.

On the inside of my band, he had inscribed “Christa, with all my heart” I don’t think I ever had his whole heart, but I hope one day he finds the girl who can have it.

An Update November 30, 2012

Finally Feeling like me again.

I’ve not posted recently, life is back to its normal routine. I work, I sleep, I work, I sleep. I’ve had so many changes in the last 6 months, it’s just now, that I’m learning to live in my new reality.

I guess my health first. I am cancer free. As in none. All Clear. BEST NEWS EVER. I have a visit with my oncologist Monday, not a visit really, but you know…after that I have a 6 month appointment, then one at a year post op. I generally feel fantastic, I’m pretty well healed up, I’m trying to view my horrible incision as a battle scar. I had cancer, I beat it, and I have the war wound to prove it. No more low-rise jeans, bring on the highrise Mom Jeans…fml. Oh well.

My energy is at an all time low. I liken it to the days when I had a 3 week old and the adrenaline of a new babe has worn off and I was up every 2 hours feeding…I’m that kind of tired. My sleep is often interrupted by hot flashes, dreams, and just the inability to sleep. It’s all kinds of suck ass but I know it will improve, or at least that’s what I tell myself.

I’ve decided at this point to stop HRT, so I guess I’m willingly putting myself through menopause…kinda sadistic. I’m doing it for good reason though. The women in my family seem to be afflicted with the BCRA1 and BCRA2 genes, the ones directly involved with both breast and ovarian cancer. I don’t have ovaries, but I have BOOOOOBS…two of them in fact. The HRT, although it was a very low dose, can still effect my chances of developing cancer, and if I also have the gene, then I’m even more so putting myself in direct risk of developing breast cancer. I just beat it once, let’s not test the fates shall we? So, no more HRT. I can tell you it is the pits. I can’t imagine hot flashes are awesome at any age, but at 35, I feel ridiculous. Thankfully it’s winter and I can quickly relieve symptoms (which I did at 4:30 this morning by standing outside in my night-shirt until the searing heat radiating off me subsided). I have an appointment scheduled with my GP to be referred to the geneticist to have the testing for the BCRA genes. So, fingers crossed it’s quick to get in, the results come quickly, and that I manage to dodge the bullet. If not it’ll be another surgery to remove the ‘girls’. On the plus side, if that happens, you can damn well bet, when I come out of surgery, I’m going to have fake tits that make a 17-year-old highschool senior jealous!

The second of the big changes has been my separation. This too is going well. We are doing divorce well. Is that even possible? Happily Divorced? Funny but it fits. Things had been a titch rocky, but now for the most part we are doing great. Shaughn is being a fantastic dad, which he always has been, and is better at being a friend to me. He has joined Paisley and I for dinner, and things (although slightly awkward) went well. I hope this can continue.

I like our friendship, I do not want a romantic relationship. I’m happy. Like Super fucking happy. It’s hard being a single mum; Really Really Tough, but I love it. I love the time I get to spend with Pais, I’m much happier, our house if filled with much more laughter, dancing, and joy. God knows I needed more Joy. I am enjoying my time with Pais, we are doing really fun things together that we just didn’t do. There was always someplace to go, or someplace to be. There wasn’t much time for kitchen parties, blaring Taylor Swift and singing into wooden spoons…now there is.

Paisley and I have a new and different relationship. I’m no longer competing with Shaughn for her attention, her world no longer revolves around him being home. That sounds horrible, but really that is how things have felt for the last almost 5 years. If Shaughn was home Paisley was glued to him. In many ways I don’t feel she and I were able to have a good relationship because she was too busy being with him. Nowadays she and I are close. Super close. I love it! She and Shaughn talk daily, and she sees him quite often. But when she’s with me, she’s with me. There are a lot more snuggles, books being read, letters being printed, singing and dancing. There is more My Little Pony play instead of watching, and lots of fun outings. I think we are both loving our new life.

I have a new post starting in my head, so I am going to sign off, I will try to post more now that life has found its new normal. Thank you to everyone for all the amazing words of support and kindness. Thank you for the words of encouragement to start writing again, sometimes I just need that little kick in the pants to get going again.

I’m A Survivor October 20, 2012

I’m A Survivor, Picture 1) Surgery Morning…scared beyond belief. 2) A few hours post surgery, just found out everything went well. 3) Part of my incision, it’s another 3-4 inches long. 4) The day my oncologist called and told me the news. Second happiest day of my life.

I’ve not blogged in while, truthfully it was just too painful. My life has been shit for the last 4 months.

I was avoiding blogging because it hurt too much to rehash my daily thoughts, it made me sad, it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere, and I just ended up in tears with each blog I didn’t publish.

Now, here I am. 3 weeks post surgery, I am still recovering, I am still in pain, my body and mind are still healing, but I have peace.

All of the cancer was removed, nothing had spread, my lymph nodes were clear, all the additional biopsies were clear. I am Cancer Free.

With all of this it is hard for me to say the words ‘I am a survivor’. I didn’t have to fight for my life, I didn’t endure months of treatments, I didn’t have rounds of chemicals flowing through my veins, or radiation shot into my body burning the cancer out of me. I had surgery; Albeit a lengthy, major surgery, but in all, it was just surgery.

I don’t feel justified in saying I’m a survivor, but I guess I am. I’m one of the women who found the disease early enough, I took my health into my hands and didn’t shy away from tests. I took on Cancer head first and won. Fuck You Cancer. I made you my bitch.

My cancer, endometrial cancer, is the 4th most common cancer for Canadian women, each year 3,900 women in this country are diagnosed with it, and if caught soon enough it has a high survival rate. IF CAUGHT SOON ENOUGH….get ready ladies…Imma Preaching!

The most common symptom of endometrial cancer is ABNORMAL BLEEDING, spotting between periods, unusually long periods, heavy periods. This cancer isn’t generally found in younger women, it’s generally found in women who are post menopausal. Women my age aren’t affected nearly as often.  I went to my GP in December for my physical which of course included the regular cop and feel…pap test the whole ball of yarn. I mentioned my crazy cycles and periods at that point, and he asked me to schedule another appointment to discuss this further and the different options available to me. Very occasionally endometrial cancer can be caught by a pap test, but often, as in my case it isn’t. Don’t rely on a normal pap test and assume you’re all good.

At my second appointment we discussed my 60-90 day cycles, and 12-15 days of bleeding. Sorry to be graphic, but it sucked. I couldn’t leave the house for the first half of my period because I was afraid of bleeding through tampons and pads. It was awful. At this appointment my Dr. decided to send me to a clinic that specialises in minimally invasive techniques of dealing with crazy cycles. My Dr thought I had fibroids, which are very common and quite treatable.

Sooooo to the clinic I went, I believe I had to wait a month or so for my appointment. At this appointment, I met a new Dr who specialises in women’s health etc.  He was quite nice. He unfortunately put me through a whack of shitty tests that I am grateful were generally fast. Some Tylenol and Motrin for a few days and I was fine.

It was during these tests that he found one tumour, he of course didn’t tell me, not until he had conclusive pathology. 3 weeks later I was in for my second appointment with him, and I saw the surgeon instead. He very nicely told me I had cancer and needed to have a hysterectomy, as well as my ovaries removed. He then informed me he could do the surgery around Christmas or he could find another oncologist to take my case….FIND ME ANOTHER DR AND GET THIS SHIT OUT OF ME!

September 26th that’s what happened. My new Dr, who is amazing, and who I love removed all my girl bits, she opened my uterus in the surgery suite and found another unexpected tumour, and then the beginning of another was found when they were doing the pathology post surgery.

And now I’m cancer free. I’m still dealing with what this exactly means. I have the chance to start again, I have a new lease on life. I have the opportunity to do things differently. I will not make the same mistakes. I will continue to be vigilant about my health, next step is genetic testing, time to find out if I too am a carrier of the BCRA1 and BCRA2 genes…if I am, another surgery is on the horizon.

So my life now is trying to evade hot flashes, mood swings which tend to be teary not bitchy, and dealing with post surgery recovery. Sore muscles, nausea associated with the anaesthetic (Today I didn’t PUKE!!!!! Woot!) an incision that puts Frankenstein to shame, and doing all of this while caring for my girl. She makes it all worthwhile. I get to be her Mummy for a long, long time.

I’m 35, healthy, active. I’m a Mummy, a friend, a sister, a daughter, (a penguin). I am a volunteer, a hard worker; and now, I am a Cancer Survivor.

My American Boy Came To Canada August 19, 2012

My American Boy, Elliot.

I’ve not blogged again in a week or so, life has just been crazeeee. Work crap, Cancer crap, Separation crap. There’s not been a lot of good in the last few weeks.

I’m missing Elliot like there’s no tomorrow.

I don’t want this blog post to turn into a public school essay on ‘How I Spent My Summer Holiday’, I’m sorry if it does.

My vacation planning started way back in March, and really, it was kind of a joke for a while. Elliot and I would talk about him coming here to visit the Great White North, and we would laugh because he actually lives north of me.

Over time, the joke turned into a ‘what if’, what if he came here, what if I didn’t go visit Shaughn’s family, what if I had a ‘staycation’ and did things around here. Eventually the what ifs turned into full-out vacation planning in southern Ontario for Elliot and myself

This was the first vacation in 12 years that I was able to do what I wanted to do, go where I wanted to go, see what I wanted to see, and not feel like I was disappointing anyone if I wanted to do something different.

I’m beginning to see what my life will be like when I’m actually alone, Shaughn moves out in a few days, and I won’t have to consider him and what his needs and wants are anymore. I can live my life the way I want to live it. I can go the places I want, see who I want to see, and spend my time how I want and need to spend it.

I digress.

This vacation was so much more than just a typical holiday, it was Elliot’s first time to visit me, to see my space, meet some of my friends and family. I was so very excited that a bunch of my friends from a local LGBTQ group were getting together, so that he would be able to meet some of the wonderful people who have accepted me into their community as an ally. We attended our local Pride festivities and marched with PFLAG in the parade. It was amazing.

We were visiting Toronto and Niagara Falls, and were doing it with a plan, but it was flexible, we could change and alter it if we needed. We were free to wander for hours after a huge storm, and see night fall on the big city. In Niagara we were able to see the first full moon of the month rise over the falls in a $500 hotel room that we paid a mere $139 for!!!! (Always ask for the upgrade!!)

We spent days with Paisley, and nights around the campfire; sharing conversation, laughter, and tears. Still we didn’t run out of things to talk about.

For the first time in years, I finally felt like myself. I didn’t feel I had to censor my thoughts, feelings, or words. I was able to be silly, I was able to be me. I was so happy. I didn’t think about work, or cancer, or separation. I didn’t think about my life falling apart, I thought about how wonderful it was to live this life, even with all of it falling down, I was still living it, I was able to enjoy it. I knew at some point on that vacation that everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok.

I know I’m in for an uphill climb, I know that life is going to be far from easy in the coming months. I also am realising that I am tough enough, I’m realising that I can ask for help and it’s not a sign of weakness but of  strength, I’m realising that my family and friends are the best I could ever imagine, and I don’t know where I would be if they weren’t part of my life.

And so my American Boy came to Canada, he cheered me up, lifted my spirits, let me cry, made me laugh, gave me some tough love but followed it up with a hug.

I came back to work, feeling renewed, I came back with a sense of purpose, and a determination to make the next super hard months ok. I’m determined to find myself again, to find out what makes me happy, and to figure out how to achieve my dreams. (See my ‘Someday’ blog post)

Thank you Elliot for sharing 12 days with us, thank you for all that you do.

His and Hers. They mean completely different things to each of us, but will always remind us, that out there in the world is someone who has the same tattoo. Someone who will listen to the other, someone who will not judge, but will be honest even when it hurts. Someone to make the other laugh on the hard days, and will share in the joys and triumphs that we will both have.

 

 

Someday… August 6, 2012

Waiting for my someday….

I’ve been on vacation for the last two weeks, I’ve not blogged, but have been able to spend some time reflecting on what I need and want for my future.

At this point in my life everything is so up in the air, I feel very out of control, and overwhelmed with the changes that are fast approaching. Shaughn is moving in less than a month, my surgery fu for the end of September, we are talking more about Paisley and school, and I am missing friends and family who are far away.

I guess the following is just really my own little pipe dream, and if bits and pieces of it come true than fantastic, until then…I’ll keep waiting for my Someday.

SOMEDAY, I want to have my perfect life. I don’t mean like white picket fences, or lots of money. I just want a partner who loves me and Paisley. I want to be comfortable, I don’t want to have to worry about money or bills, and I want to have enough saved up that I can take a vacation, or go someplace neat on a rainy day. I want Paisley to grow up knowing that even though Shaughn and I couldn’t make it work, that we still love her, and that we will always have her back. I want her to know that she can have a fairy tale ending even though I didn’t.

SOMEDAY, I want to have a job I love and that I feel like I am making a difference in people’s lives. In most respects, I have that now. I do love my job, I love the kids, the chaos, and the joy I feel when I am with them. I generally feel like I am making a difference. But, my hours are long, I live at work, and sometimes I feel under appreciated. I’m not sure what I want to do, a big part of me wants to work with LGBTQ youth, or to work in the school system teaching teachers and staff about the many issues LGBTQ youth face at home, with friends and family, in the community and at school. I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know if there is a need (I really think there is though), I don’t know what kind of education I would need, or if it is something that I would be satisfied with in the end.

SOMEDAY, I want another child. I want to give a child in the system a forever home. I can’t have any more of my own, and I don’t really want a baby (ugh, I’m sooo not a baby person) but I would love to adopt an older child, someone who needs a family to love them, and to celebrate them.

SOMEDAY, I want to fall head over heels in love. I want to go to bed wrapped up in love, and wake up the same way. I want to be smart about it next time. I want to value myself, and treat myself properly. I have to be ok with being alone first, knowing I can do it on my own, before letting someone new in. I can’t let the fear of being alone cloud my judgment in the future. If I end up alone, I have to be ok with that, but if I find a new partner, I need to make sure that they are the right person for me. I can’t do this again; not to myself or to Paisley. Separating and divorce sucks rocks. The End.

SOMEDAY, I want to be able to look back on my marriage to Shaughn and not feel anger, guilt, or sadness. I want to be able to be open-minded to all the good things that happened despite the breakdown. I want to be able to see all the good things that came out of it, and not just see the bad stuff. I want to be able to share silly stories with Paisley about what her daddy was like, and the crazy things we did when we were young. I want to look back and feel a sense of happiness. It hasn’t all been bad, it’s just hard to see the good some days.

SOMEDAY, I want a cure for cancer, all cancers, not just mine. I don’t want any other families to go through the same shit I am going through, and that my family has gone through in the last 10 years. It’s heartbreaking.

Lastly,

SOMEDAY, I want to wake up and know that everything is ok in my world. I want to smile, and embrace my life. I want to feel happy, I want to feel safe; and I want to feel that I can take on any challenge thrown at me because I am strong enough, smart enough, and good enough to take it on.

I can’t wait for SOMEDAY.

 

‘Hi, My Name Is Christa…And My World Is Falling Apart’ July 19, 2012

Support Me…

“Hi Christa”….

It’s always interesting to me that support comes from places you would least expect it to come from.

That person you haven’t talked to in a year, an old ‘frenemy’ who heard-through-the-grapevine-and-just-had-to-call, or your neighbour from when you were 5.

This week I attended my local, monthly PFLAG meeting. For those of you unfamiliar with PFLAG (Parents and Friends for Lesbians and Gays, although the door is WIDE open for anyone involved in the LGBTQQ community) it is a monthly support group that I attend to support someone close to me. It is a wonderful, open, caring, and safe space that basically you can talk about whatever you are dealing with. I normally don’t share much. Just the usual, ‘Hi, my name is Christa, I am an Ally, my friend____________ is ______________ and I am here to help support them’ I then usually go into our relationship a bit and yadda yadda yadda. PFLAG in a short time has become something that I feel quite passionate about. The sense of love, compassion, care, and openness within the group always leaves me feeling that all is well with the world, even if it is just for 2 hours on a Monday night once a month.

This meeting was a little different. It was quite large, at least 20 or so people, there were a number of very unfortunate issues happening with some of our group, and there were some lovely new faces. One Ally attended from as far away as Texas. I was one of the last people to speak, and had planned on just doing my usual routine, but the leader (who is also a friend) encouraged me to open up and ‘spill it’ (Ohhhh Lori, I do so Love you!). So yes, everything just kinda came tumbling out, I felt like I couldn’t stop…the words just kept coming, separation, parenting, friends, sadness, Cancer, anger, surgery, scared, gaaaaah. It was strange and surreal. Here I was baring my soul to a room full of strangers for the most part. Very disconcerting. And yet I talked. It was odd being the one who needed support vs. being the supporter. But there everyone was with horrified looks on their faces, the ‘OHMIGOD’ expression as I like to call it. I’m getting used to that look, it’s funny, I can picture people’s faces on the phone when I tell them…

So other than absolute shameless promotion of PFLAG (which is an AMAZING organisation, and I highly recommend anyone who has ties to the LGBTQQ community check them out. They are world-wide, free, and a wealth of knowledge, support, and love.) I guess I am using this post to say, I’m finding support in the oddest of places.  I am continually surprised when someone calls or emails me to let me know they are thinking of me.

Onwards and Upwards, Oncology on Monday (totally freaking out but Ohhhh Welll)`

PFLAG (main site) http://community.pflag.org/page.aspx?pid=194

PFLAG Canada http://www.pflagcanada.ca/en/index-e.php

Slammed By The Mail July 9, 2012

Swift Kick To My Brain

I love to get mail most days, other than assorted bills, really, I usually get nothing. It’s sad, but in this day of modern technology the traditional letter has been replaced by email, e-cards, text messages and emoticons.

Today though I got a letter, a letter from Oncology.

As soon as I saw the envelope everything came crashing down. For the last week, other than erratic sleep, I have been able to put the cancer mostly out of my head. I haven’t really had to think much about it, or really talk about it. It’s always there, but it has taken a backseat to what’s happening in the rest of my crazy ass life.

But the letter changed that, I instantly felt nauseous, my head kinda went light, and my hands started to shake. It just brought the cancer and it’s ramifications back to the front of my brain.

I started to think about what it meant; surgery in the near future, 8 weeks of recovery, pain, not being able to hug of lift my girl. Then of course the possibility of finding cancer on my ovaries, or elsewhere while they are in there. I started to think about my aunt who was my age when she was diagnosed, and all the women before me, and then the fear kicks in.

I am terrified of surgery, I am scared of recovery, I know I have amazing, rather AMAZING friends and family who will all be there to help in any way they can, but a part of me still feels very alone in this. I feel like it’s my body that has failed, that if I had chosen to live parts of my life differently I wouldn’t be in this boat. If I was healthier, if I had eaten organic, probiotic, grain fed, vegetarian…blah blah blah…the list in my head goes on for miles.

I wonder who will go with me to the hospital, and who will visit. I worry about who is going to care for Magee when I’m not able to. I worry that she’s just not going to understand, how could she when I can barely grasp it all. Will I be alone when I start puking from the anesthetic (because I always do) or will someone be there to rub my back and bring me some water?

All these what ifs, and things out of my control, a million different variables, and questions. Really there are no answers yet, and some won’t be answered until I’m actually in the situation.

I know I’m going to be ok in my head, I’m just having a hard time convincing my heart of the same.

Mia Famiglia – My Family July 6, 2012

It’s not my family, but it’s close enough!

Ok, so the picture isn’t exactly accurate.

I come from a very large family. I have Aunts, Uncles, a million cousins, and then their kids to make up another half million (No really, they all just have to stop having kids).

Growing up, my family always did things together. Regular playdates, family dinners and BBQ’s, birthday parties, road trips, you name it we did it. Some of my fondest childhood memories are with my extended family. Summers at the beach with my grandmother, giant new year’s eve parties with all the cousins, racing for quarters at the bottom of the pool against my brother and whoever else would challenge me.

Family has always been one of the most important things in my life. I speak with my parents almost daily, I talk with my brother almost every other day. My brother and I are very close. We always have been. Joel and I are 18 months apart and have always shared everything; Friends, clothes, toys, midnight secrets, heartbreak and love. He is and will always be my best friend.

So this week I had to let my family know about my diagnosis. Not an easy task. Rather than call everyone, because I know I’d never get through it, I emailed most people.  I was very nervous emailing everyone, all of my first cousins have had a parent die from Cancer, one Aunt just two years ago, the other 10 years ago. I was afraid of how they would feel. I also had to email Aunts and Uncles who had lost these two sisters.

Family has once again surrounded me with love, encouragement, and words that make things seem a bit easier.

I have friends that seem much more like family then they do friends, I often don’t know where I’d be day to do without them. Elliot, Cerys, Adele, Haley, and Jeanette, you 5 make sure I’m ok, keep me smiling and are the most wonderful friends I could ever hope for. Words of thanks will never be enough for all you do. You will always be family in my book, friends just doesn’t cover how I feel about you guys.

I am so blessed, I know that I’m going to kick this, I know that with the people closest to me, I will have all the strength I need especially when I need it most.

Hope Is Better Than Fear July 2, 2012

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.
Jack Layton

Hope is better than Fear, Optimism better than despair.

For a year, longer than the last week; these words have resonated with me.

I am a political junkie, and the quote was written by one of the most influential Canadian politicians of my time. Sadly Jack Layton lost his battle with cancer almost a year ago. During his last days he wrote a letter to all Canadians that ended with the quote:

“My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.”

I have tried to be both hopeful and optimistic this last week, I will not let fear, or anger rule my life; although I have plenty of both.

I am not going to lie, this week has been tough, for many reasons; work, relationship, kiddo, and cancer. Cancer seems to be the things that is at the forefront of it all. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do, it’s just there. It’s not even that I am sad about it all the time, or upset. Often its indifference, but it’s still there.

I know deep down that all of this is going to be ok, I know that I am strong, and healthy otherwise. I know that as sacred as I am that things have spread, they haven’t, I have to believe it. I know that while I have to wait to deal with all this shit, there are so many other women who don’t have the luxury of a few extra days…

I have been trying to put my life into some sort of perspective, which hasn’t been easy when it is all upside down. I’m trying to think of this as just a bump in the road, a blip on the chart. Today it feels like a mountain to climb, not a bump, but tomorrow will be better. It’s when I have time to sit and think, that my head gets the better of me. When I am surrounded by the kids and chaos of daycare I don’t have time to think about much. This was a long weekend up here in Canada, so lots of downtime where my brain has sometimes gotten the better of me. Paisley spent a night at her grandparents, and yesterday I spent the majority of the day asleep in bed. When I wasn’t sleeping, I was trying not to think…kind of a vicious circle.

I have a few amazing friends (you know who you are) that are calling, texting, and checking in. I love them, right now they are the ones helping me to keep my head up. There are others that I thought would be there who in a short time have dropped off the face of the earth…how lovely.

My goal for the next few days, is not to tread water, but to swim. To try and grab life, shake the shit out of it, and live it. I don’t like walking around in this fugue state. I want to see the colours, smell the air, and feel the breeze.

Wish me luck!

My Adventure Ended…. April 12, 2012

Going Home Is Hard To Do.

Well, I made it back home unscathed, somewhat rested, and with feelings of mixed sorts.

I was unbelievably excited to see my Paisley. God I missed her. 5 days away was long enough. I missed my girl, her drama, her early waking, her laugh, her excitement, I missed it all. I was so happy when I went in to kiss her at 2 am, she woke up briefly, and smiled, and said “Mummy, I missed you”…melted my heart.

I was excited to see Shaughn, but truthfully, we still haven’t seen each other. We have not connected, I haven’t really told him anything about my trip. He has seen a few pics on Instagram, but really that’s about it. I hate this.

My life seems to have just continued exactly where I left off, I got home, got things ready for work, slept for 4 hours, woke up and had the kids that morning. Nothing has changed. It’s still the same life.

When I left, I was going for a break, which I did get. I spent time doing things I love, I was in the outdoors pretty much everyday, I was able to explore a new city, and be with a wonderful friend. I was able to remember who I was, and where I came from; before I was Mummy, before 5 kids called for me every minute of my 10 hour work day. I was able to laugh, and cry and talk…and talk….and talk. I was able to have real conversations, that weren’t filled with interruptions, or explanations.

I enjoyed doing new things, and hearing new stories about things and places I had never been or seen. It was wonderful to be away.

On Monday, I woke with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I knew my time away was over. I had to go back. Real life was calling my name. I packed and got ready for my trip to Milwaukee. Thankfully it was a 3 hour drive, still time to talk, and laugh. As soon as Miller Park (where the Brewers play) came into view, my stomach dropped. It was really ending. I was going to have to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. HATE THEM. There was a pretty big line at the train station and we were able to talk a bit more before I boarded.

And then I had to go. My adventure was over. I had to say Good Bye to Elliot, see you in July.

It was a very uneventful ride to Chicago, I snuggled with Paisley’s cow, and just stared out the window. A million things drifted through my head as I watched the world pass out my window.

I finally arrived home to London at 2 am. It was a long trip, I was exhausted. I was looking for my bed before I stepped a foot inside the door.

So, now I wait till July. Elliot will be here for my vacation, and I will show him London, we will be hitting our Pride festival, checking out Toronto and Niagara Falls, campfires, and fun. I can’t wait. Another break. Hopefully by then Shaughn will be more settled in a job, and my life will resemble something of that of a year ago, and not my current crazy.