Puppy Portraits 2

Jae and Mo's other pups:
Dexter, the fierce guard dog:



Sweet Hershey:

Stretch's Animals

When my brother was a boy, Mom used to say that all he needed in the world was to be near a dog and he was happy. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Playing Fetch

Dillon Dog is very enthusiastic about his super-sized Frisbee.

Kitten 1 and Kitten 2

Clara B. Dog is wondering what I have done to her quiet home.
And so am I...

Dillon Dog

The Mighty Frog Hunter

Hanging On

139/365

Second Negative

Beta #2 negative, of course.
What a total fool I was to think there was such happiness for me.

I laid around last week worried about what I'd do if they all stayed...it never occurred to me once that none of them would stay. How could I let myself be that certain?

What an idiot to be so damn confident that this was finally time for my family.
Life never works that way for me. I'm not meant for dreams. I have no idea what made me think I even had a chance.

I'm angry at myself for believing it could really happen...that it did happen.
Naive and stupid.
I'll never let the universe trick me like that again.
I'll be bitter and jaded for the rest of my life.

My poor embies....
There's no softness in my thoughts anywhere.
I won't be comforted.



My only baby...in denial that she's at the veterinarian's office...only if you look closely in her eyes do you see the anxiety.

Where the vet's assistant was about 11 months pregnant.
Are you done with me, Universe? Had enough laughs yet?
I'm awfully tired of being kicked around.

Out In The Sticks

A few inches of snow fell overnight and so our plans to go to the zoo were spoiled. It was gone by mid-morning and the girls played outside for quite a while. We mostly hung out here today watching TV and destroying the house playing. Dad stopped by with his favorite driving companion. Dollface insisted on a driving lesson while Stretch buzzed around on her four-wheeler. It's bizarre to see Dad driving down the road with Dixie Dog in the passenger seat. At first, you think it's some hunched over old man riding in the mule with him. Just another day out here in the sticks.

King of the Root Cellar

My neighbor's dog cracks me up by constantly being "King of the Hill" behind his fence. He's on top of the old root cellar (see the white wooden "entrance" to the right). I tried to get closer but he'd come down to defend his territory.

Emotionally Complicated

First of all, I just have to get off my chest how I hate the other pregnant teacher at my school. I hate how she saunters around with her rosy glow and round belly. I hate that she alone gets all the special pregnant attention and sweet jokes. I hate how she cackles with laughter and I hate that I can barely look at her or if I can I cannot take my eyes off her belly. Why does she get all the happy? I'm aware that this makes me a black-hearted person.

Something was wrong with Clara B. when I came home. She could hardly use her back legs. Like her back end was drunk or something. My first thought was that she blew out her new knee or that the other one had blown out. Then, I thought maybe she had a small stroke or something. The vet took x-rays and said that she has arthritis in her back. I have three medications for her and can only hope she improves in the next few days. I'm not a vet of course but just doesn't seem like arthritis to me. How could that come on so suddenly? Why?

I finally got a nice, hopeful response from Dr. AA. It is with mixed emotions of every kind that I made an appointment.

Everything is so emotionally complicated now. Even rushing Clara B Dog to the vet and wondering how I would survive if it was serious and I had to let her go too. At the same time, thinking, oh well, I've survived the worst and it can't hurt more than that did. Zoe Cat ran away this fall and I'm not sure I can stand the house without Clara B. I'm such a mess.


Picture of the Day:

Glass Tree

I had a much better day today. It's wild to me how one day can be so low I think I'll never see light again and the next can be very good, almost to the point of feeling normal and forgetting. Twenty four hours can really change things.

I "Walked Away The Pounds" this morning. That's an exercise video for jumbo sized people who can't do too much. I really do feel so much better mentally if I move more. I'm issuing myself a four day challenge to do an exercise vid every day. I'm going to try to sucker encourage Belinda to be in the challenge too.

I went to the Tile Place and gave Tile Lady a down payment for the kitchen stuff. Whew. What a load off my mind. Like so many things these days, it doesn't really matter to me that the couch has become a storage place for dry goods or that even if I did want to make brownies, I probably wouldn't want to dig the mixing bowls out from under the bed where lots of kitchen stuff is being stored for the duration but it will be nice when the actual kitchen is functioning again. Unfortunately, that won't be for at least four more weeks.

Then I took myself to see Black Swan. What a beautiful clusterf*&^ of a movie! I really identified with Natalie Portman's character because I'm a dancer too. NOT a thin starving ballerina striving for perfection. However, I do dance on the edge of sanity just like her character did. She did a fancy ballerina leap over to crazytown. I hope I never have the need to do that. I'd probably throw out my back. I loved looking for all the foreshadows, background references to birds and all the control and mind games. I can see why there is Oscar buzz.

I was staring out the window this morning, as I'm wont to do so often these days, and I couldn't help but notice the way the rising sun shone on the ice covered tree making it look as though it was made of glass.




Inspired by my camera wielding friends here and there , I had to snap a pic to share with you. I wish I was a better photographer with a better camera so you could see it like I did. It probably didn't help that I was too lazy to actually go outside and take the picture but took it from the window.

And here is a bonus shot of Clara B. Dog. She has a barely noticeable limp now, however, she thinks she's completely recovered and runs about in an untroubled and happy-go-lucky way.

Oh to be an untroubled and happy-go-lucky canine.....

Releasing Crap

I guess it was an ok day....as ok as they get these days. School was fine except for DRA reading test where each child reads to me individually. The scores are so low, so low. I think it's been about 6 weeks since I've taught small group reading between vacation, snow days, other junk going on at school and the obvious. Not fair to the kids. I just hope it's not too late for me to dig in and make up for lost time. And I hope I'm able to do it.

I went to my dentist, who is friends with me on FB because we went to high school together, not because we're actually friends. The same dentist I dreamt about here. It seems every single thing I do is tied to some pregnancy memory. He didn't mention anything about my loss although I did post something about it on FB. But he DID shove pictures of his four children in my face, including the twins and the recent adopted baby. I'm thinking they had infertility trouble. Who knows? I'm thinking of changing dentists.

On the topic of being honest:
Writing here is not me being honest or gracious. It has become something I just HAVE to do. There is something to be said for releasing crap into the "universe". And writing here is my life line to sanity or the attempt at sanity. YOU are my life line to sanity. I reread your comments over and over sometimes. Some of your comments are so beautiful and deep. So loving. Sometimes it's just the common sense I need at that moment. Sometimes it's just what I need to hear while I'm emotionally writhing and in such pain. The things you write to me DO make a dent in the guilt, and obsessive self doubt. At times, I wonder if there will ever be another happy thing on this blog. I know what I've written since it happened has been so harsh and ugly. Hard to write so I'm sure hard to read too. Thank you for staying with me during this crapfest and I apologize for not being able to comment on most of your blogs.

More released crap:
You may be wondering how my Clara Dog is doing. Very well. Still limping but she's getting more and more difficult to keep "quiet". Much improvement on that first week, when she was in such distress that I wondered if I made the right decision or should have followed Dad's advice to put her down. I take a couple of her staples out everyday with a surgical staple remover Dad had with his vet equipment and the incision looks good. I hope the inside is healing just as well. AND she finally pooped (released crap) on Sunday. If you're keeping track that's 12 days after surgery! I'm estimating that about 10 pounds of crap came out of my 60 pound dog. The vet had said she might not poop for 3-5 days but my Clara B is definitely an overachiever on holding crap in. I can't imagine how uncomfortable she was. 2 weeks of "recovery" down and 2 to go. Then rehabilitation starts.

Too honest?

Clara Is Home!

Clara B. Dog is home! Poor pup.

Here she is lovin' that cone collar:
Frankendog with her 20 staples: (Hope this pic isn't too graphic to put on here.)


Xrays showing the plate, screws and 20 staples that now hold my dog's bionic knee together:

A FAKE bone showing what the veterinarian did:
It's going to be a long recovery I'm afraid. While she was on the leash and hobbling gently around the yard with a sling under her back end she looked so longingly at the pasture that surrounds our house.


In the afternoon, I helped Mom wrap gifts. This was one of my holiday jobs as a kid, one year I even wrapped gifts that were for me. She's tried several times over the years to teach me her patented technique of cutting wrapping paper using a butcher knife. This really does make the straightest, cleanest and fastest cuts.

First you use the butcher knife to poke a hole in the spot where you want to make the cut:

Then you fold the paper using the little cut as a guide:
Make sure it's a good, crisp crease and straight!

Use the butcher knife to cut along the crease. And viola! A perfect, straightly cut piece of paper ready to create the perfect package.


This is usually what happens when I try it:

In the evening, I went with E's family to look at Christmas lights. This is something I love to do but rarely have anyone to do it with and I was holding it together pretty well today so I was glad they invited me. Dollface had written a get well note to Clara and she was surprised when Clara wrote back. She pointed out that Clara couldn't write, and I told her that Clara had told me what to write down. So sweet.

She also gave me a picture she'd drawn of our family at Christmas. All of us on a Christmas background and me with a baby in my arms and standing in front of a black hole. "Because your baby died." C apologized, I didn't cry and nothing more was said. I had thought that the children were basically unscathed by all of this. I don't know what they have been told, very hard for a 5 year old to understand.

Or a 39 year old.
Once again I'm hating that my situation has brought awfulness to my family.

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The mail is now full of emotional bombs on a daily basis. Formula coupons, a hospital bill, a flyer for an infant loss support group. But I knew something more horrible than any of those has been on it's way and I knew would break me into pieces and it came today.

Greyson's death certificate.

But I didn't break into pieces. Probably because something else also came in the mail today. Something that eased the blow and distracted me. Something so thoughtful and kind from someone I don't even know IRL. Kim from The ART of Baby Making and her sweet friend Libby sent me a beautiful little necklace. I just love looking at Greyson's name on the inside. (pics coming tomorrow because my crappy camera can't take pics of sweet little things in my dim house at night without too much flash...grr)

Kim and your sweet friend Libby-- I'm not even sure what to say to thank you for this kind-hearted gift. How did you know when to send it so that it came just when I needed it? Thank you for your thoughtfulness and for your impeccable timing. Thank you for being part of my blogworld and helping me to survive. xoxoPaige

Bionic Dog and Counseling

My poor Clara Dog is in the hospital. Again, the look of betrayal as I left her. Poor pup. You were exactly right, It Is What It Is. She tore her anterior cruciate ligament and will be having the TPLO (Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteotomy) surgery in the morning and it is costing me about $3000.00. The surgery involves breaking the bone and resetting the joint so that it's at a different angle and putting it all back together with plates and screws. I told her she would be my bionic dog now. The vet said it is very likely to happen to the other joint eventually. The specialist veterinarian seemed knowledgeable, the assistants were kind and the clinic seemed top notch. I know she's in good hands. I hope she forgives me for leaving her there. And I hope she's not in too much pain afterwards.

My dad actually suggested having her put down. After which I began to cry. So insensitive.

The house sure is empty without her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

SC and I go to the same counselor. I haven't been to counseling for 3 years and I couldn't get an appointment until January 10. SC had an appointment for tonight and she generously gave it to me. She pretty much insisted I take it. This is one of the nicest things anyone has done for me through all of this.

Not sure what to say about counseling. In the past, I always walked out of there feeling stronger. Not this time. I feel only broken and exhausted. We seemed to cover a lot but it just didn't seem to help at all.

I told her one of my big worries. I made it clear that I'm not going to harm myself but I think a lot about being with my baby and it seems such a long life to live without him. I told her all about wanting to put the casket in my purse and having the crazy thought of myself running down the street with it under my coat. And wishing everyday that he was with me or I was with him. She didn't bat an eyelash.....but she didn't really say it wasn't crazy either.

She asked about what happened in the hospital, what it took to get pregnant, if I held him and what he looked like and if I named him. She asked about the funeral. She asked what I have to remember him by. She asked how the crying was going. I almost told her to just read this blog.

She asked how much in love I was with my baby.

She asked about trying again.

She told me one in three pregnancies end in miscarriage.

She said many of the things everyone else has said. It takes time, the hurt will never go completely away, etc. She seemed pleased that I write so much and that I'm planning on going to a support group.

I wish I could say I felt stronger or felt some sort of comfort, but I don't.

Pain and Laughter

Difficult day. A lot of pain. Random crying at random moments, some in public. I had to go places where the last time I was there, my son was alive inside me. I think I would have stayed home and cried all day if I could have.

I returned the funeral man's message, he just wanted me to know he was dropping the death certificate in the mail unless I needed it quickly, then I could come get it. Still hard to believe that there is a death certificate with my son's name on it. It just can't be.

I feel as though my world is gone. Just dropped out from under me.
I'm able to be distracted and can even laugh and smile but when the distraction is over, my world is still gone.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

For weeks my dog, Clara, has been limping and even after I took her to the vet and got pain medication for her it seemed to get worse. She's very timid and her look of betrayal when I left her at the vet's for x-rays today was about more than I could handle. The x-rays showed that she has snapped a ligament in her knee. I have to take her to a specialist tomorrow who will probably want to do surgery. I can't stand that she's in pain and that I've let it go on for any amount of time. I wonder what she thinks is going on around here. Strangers showing up all the time, me making weird howling noises and no happiness in the house anymore.

Yas invaded me tonight. They brought dinner and themselves which is good for my soul. A lot of laughs. I haven't laughed hard like that (and meant it) since before. We were laughing a lot about what we saw here: http://www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com/. Also, about a story my aunt, who was a visiting nurse at the time, tells about an elderly teacher who had lost her mind and could only say the words, "piece of paper". We're mostly teachers so we could all picture ourselves in this situation. With them here I could be normal, for a while anyway.

What can I say about these women? My friends. From that first day home from the hospital, they showed up and showed me how strong friendship can be. They kept showing up. They've stared down my pain and didn't look away even at the ugliest of times when it would have been easy to stay away and avoid seeing the broken woman I've become. Other than Mom, no one else has had the strength to hold me, be with me, listen to me cry and keep me from sliding over the edge. They remind me there is still life out there. They are strong for me when I can't be, breathe for me when I can't and get me to laugh even when I think I can't. If you're reading, girls, I love you all and I'll never forget that you showed up and didn't look away.

Puppy Poop

Saturday night my dog, Clara, woke me up four different times to either let her out or let her in. She was very persistent and the only reason for being let in or out seemed to be to chase the wind and bark at the grass. Sunday night around midnight she started the same song and dance. I decided I was going to be persistent right back and ignored her. I didn't want her to get in the habit of doggy "partying" every night. She kept it up for about an hour.

This morning I woke up to the smell. You know the one. I knew immediately what had happened. Poor Clara had diarrhea last night. Several spots on the carpet and in her bed. My poor baby. I feel beyond terrible. A good and faithful friend and she can't even count on me to care for her when she's sick and caring for her was as simple as opening a door. Please assume every horrible mother (doggy and human) implication you can think of.

I gacked my way through cleaning it up, while struggling with my own stomach issues. I thought about calling in sick but it was already pretty late and I thought it would be better to be up and moving. Head achy, tired and crabby day at school but had to act normal for the kids. Now cooking a pot of soup while I cook up my emotions.

Missing Zoe

My little Zoe has been missing for over a week this time. Guess she's gone for good. I'm hoping she's found another family in the neighborhood who cares for her and enjoys her company as much as I did. I took this pic of her playing in a puddle of sunshine a few days before she disappeared:

Zoe,

You've given me so much comfort, companionship and laughs the past few years. I hope you're happy where ever you may be. You'll be missed.

Your servant/roommate/mom

Springtime Surprise

I took DollFace to the park after school to feed the ducks. I have been carrying a fossilized loaf of bread around in the car for just such an occasion. There were no ducks at the park today, only a few geese and these geese were the most satisfied, overfed geese I've ever seen. As if saying, "Lady I'm not swimming over there for anything less than a fresh, hot French fry, please take away your stale loaf."

I have stayed within my calorie range, but I need to do something about my afternoon snack. It's not substantial enough and I'm starving when I get home so it's too easy to dig right in to cooking supper and afterwards it's too late to walk. I did get in a brief after supper walk though and these spring beauties greeted me on the way back.

My grandmother's springtime surprise to me every year. I sure didn't plant them and I forget about them until they spring up every year.

Here is my diva, Zoe, wondering why I don't grow grass for her inside the house.