Mammographies Rock.

Not really.

But they do help in the early detection of breast cancer. So I go for them every year. Sonograms too. Those, I think I hate worse.

I've been going for 10 years now. I started at 30 because my mother passed away from breast cancer when I was 17. 23 years ago. 23. Years. Ago.

I'm living longer without her than I lived with her in my life.

There was a time when I was younger. 17, 18 ish. That I wanted to die. To be with her. (Kinda thinking was warped I know.) So I never performed breast self checks, or anything. I didn't care. That truly lasted til' I turned 30 when my gynie insisted I go for my very first mammogram due the the family history and all.

I cried during the entire process. (theres an ongoing theme in my life) AND I made my husband/boyfriend at the time go with me. Literally, in the waiting rooms where men weren't allowed and all. I was petrified. I insisted he be there.

All was fine, and I was literally forced to go yearly. I didn't care. I didn't want to go.

Then, I had my daughter.

It all changed from there.

I was obsessed with my boobies. Grabbing and checking and feeling like a freak. In the shower, out. In bed, getting dressed, undressed. I'd even make my husband feel once in a while to see if I was imagining things.

I didn't want to leave her like I was left. (Another psychological carnival, I know)

But eventually I learned that feeling once a month was okay to do. So I do. And if I feel something, my doctor makes me go for a mammo/sono even if it's not time. He's very sympathetic and I heart him.

click the image to learn how

I try to make the best of it because even though I'm getting better at accepting the loss of my mother, I still get very anxious at the diagnostic center. I wear my gown like a cape, I ask about what they do with women with big, hanging boobies, I even ask to see the images and make them explain everything they're doing. Even though I've heard it all before. And I "criggle". I cry and giggle mostly the entire time. 

But I do it. 

I do it for my daughter.

I do it for myself.

I do it for my husband.

I do it for my family.

I do it because I want to be proactive with my health. I want to know what's going on in my body.

So, I suggest you do it too.

And ask the technicians what they do with women with big, pendulous breasts. Unless of course you are one of those women. Then tell me what happens to you. or....Tell me the reaction you get. Because they laugh like crazy when I ask.

February is a time for me to reminisce...

Since my birthday is in 6 days, it seems February and the weeks following my birthday makes me melancholy. (it doesn't take much)...but I'm noticing that my meloncholy state runs throughout the year...

This post was written in Feb. Makes me cry.

This post gives me goosebumps.

This one is a reminder to me every day.

And this one truly opened up my heart and healing for probably the very first time on here.

There are so many depressing posts on here, intertwined with some joy and laughter...But I wrote this blog for my daughter and I'm starting to think she may only see a darkness in her mother that I have been trying to hide form her from day one.

Maybe it's just my temperament. Husband says my default mood... is.... bad.

He's not wrong.

I'll be 40 in 6 days. Half my life is over. I've lived longer without my mother than I have with her. I miss her every single second of every singel day and it's 23 years she's gone. She was 48 when she died.

There goes that whole, It'll happen to me fear too.

I need a change of scenery.  A new career, one that gives me pleasure, not pain. I have some ideas. Ideas that take time from work and money. I need to figure out a plan.

I can't let the last half of my life be a repeat of the first half. Otherwise, I've let my daughter down.

Any suggestions?

I miss you so.

She would be 70 today.

My mom.

I miss her so much. I can't even explain it. 

She's been gone almost 22 years.

And even now, when I think about it the pain tears me apart. (Crazy enough...when I first wrote the number of years, I wrote 12 and believed it...It HASN'T been only 12 years...it's longer. Feels like yesterday I lost her.)

I could cry.

I do cry.

Often.

Especially when I want to share the absolutely wonderful things my daughter does. 

Very especially when I need help with the absolutely dreadful things my daughter does.

I'll never be 100%.

I'll always be missing a huge part of me. There will always be a hole where that part of my heart should be. The part that had a mother growing up. 

The part that needs her mother is always void. The part that wants her mother is always deprived. The part that is shaped by her mother is always abandoned.

Forever.

I miss you so much mom. I wish you were here with all my heart and soul. I'd give anything to be able to talk to you. 

I think about you every day. I see you in my mind every day. The vivid images are lacking, but the memories are there.

Forever.

In times when I really need you. I think hard about you. I meditate on your voice. I imagine you telling me it'll all be alright. I hear you saying you'll always be in my heart. You never truly left me. You've always been inside of me. I wish.

Do not stand at my grave and weep, 

I am not there, I do not sleep. 

I am in a thousand winds that blow, 

I am the softly falling snow. 

I am the gentle showers of rain, 

I am the fields of ripening grain. 

I am in the morning hush, 

I am in the graceful rush 

Of beautiful birds in circling flight, 

I am the starshine of the night. 

I am in the flowers that bloom, 

I am in a quiet room. 

I am in the birds that sing, 

I am in each lovely thing. 

Do not stand at my grave and cry, 

I am not there. I do not die.

~Mary E. Frye 

Hello Out There

Ahem, is this thing on? *Brushing off the dust from the keyboard*

Hi.

I'm here. Things have been crazy lately. But I guess that's a good thing. Or not. I don't know.

SO, so, so very much going on. I'm on the Executive Board at Fa's school. (Busy-ness magnified.) I've had a miscarriage. (I don't even want to go there.) I'm constantly running around with Fa. (Fun in the middle of the storm.) Business is not good and money is tighter than ever. (Nothing you all don't know about)... However, there is still not enough time energy to write a decent post and I refuse to just give a laundry list of ALL the crap that's been going on. I've been trying my best to get it all organized enough for the people who still stop by here now and then. Maybe this is my way of getting rid of the cobwebs and starting again!!!

In the meantime...Here's a few of my older posts that explain what I'm going through...

There is oh so much more to say.

Thank you for stopping by my friends!

I'll be back.

Mom's Don't Leave (2)

We're schnuggling in bed again.

A year later.

Except this time Fa comes right out with it. No more beating around the bush.

Fa: "Do you miss your mom?"

Oh god, don't cry J, don't cry...

Me: "Yes, baby I do miss her terribly."

F: "Where is she? What happened to her?"

M: "Well baby, my mommy was very sick, too sick for her body to keep her here with me and well baby, she died."

What the hell DO I say? This kid knows about death now. Her fish died a few months ago.

M: "Remember when Goldie died?"

F: "Yeah, and we flushed her down the toilet?"

M: "Well, that's what happens when you are very, very old or very sick. But we don't flush people down the toilet."

F: "Do you miss her? Why can't I see her? Why can't I meet her? Will you get sick? What if you die? Will I die? Will Daddy Die?"

How does she do that? How does she ask these thoughtful questions?

M: "Baby, death is a part of life and when we get very, very, very, very old. SO old we won't be able to dance anymore, then our bodies stop working because they can't take care of us anymore, and we die."

F: "How old were you when your mom died?"

Holy shit!

M: "Well baby, my mom died when I was pretty young. I was a teenager...way older than you are now. But remember, she was very sick. And I had my daddy, (Papa) and Auntie and other family and friends to take care of me when that happened."

F: "What will I do when you die? Where will you go when you die? Why can't I see your mom? I won't see you either!"

FuckFuckFuckFuckFuck.

M: "Honey, you are stuck with me forever! I'm sticking around here until I'm all old, and wrinkly and mean and nasty because I don't like being old and wrinkly. You think I'm cranky NOW? I'm gonna be so annoying to you that you'll be trying to run away from me, I'll be so old. And I'll be screaming after you in my electric wheel chair telling you to come and change my diaper."

You see, humor saves everything in my head.

M: (Watching her crack a smile) "And you know, my mommy is tucked deep in my heart and I have her with me all the time now. Even when I miss her most and I can't see her. I know she is in my heart and keeping me safe and happy. Because she will ALWAYS be with me, even if she isn't here to talk to."

F: "So since you are already in my heart, you'll stay there forever?"

Damn, she's good.

M: "Yes baby! You know when we kiss each other we always say we'll keep it in our hearts forever? Well, think about all the smooching we do, our hearts are already filled up with kisses and love...think about that." (As I proceed to kiss her all over her face and shoulders and just practically smothering her with kisses...so she will laugh and change the fricken' subject already.) "See, all that love? It will be with you forever."

F: "I'll be your mom, I'll take care of you?"

GOD DAMN, this kid is awesome.

M: "Thank you so much sweet, sweet baby! But I don't want you to be my mom. I want you to be my baby girl so I can keep being your mommy and love you and take care of you as long as you need me. Remember, I have a mommy we just can't see her. But we can talk to her and talk about her whenever you want to. I love talking about my mom, especially with you."

That pretty much ended that conversation. She seemed content with all that I told her and didn't freak out like the last time.

So I kissed her goodnight one more time, so proud that I held it together to maintain calm and cool while touching upon something that is still so raw in my chest all these years later.

But I'll do anything for this child. Even if its ripping my own heart to shreds.

Then, I went into the bathroom and proceeded to cry for a half hour.

Mom's Don't Leave (1)

(This was originally posted on my very first blog in May of 2007 (that I can't link to)...but I have more to add now. So I'll start you off here....)

How do I convince my daughter of that when I am living proof that indeed some moms leave?

Schnuggling before a nap recently, she asked me if I loved my Mommy and Daddy. (Red flags raised..she never mentions my Mom even when I talk about her) Of course, I said yes. She continued to ask, "Who's your Daddy?" (She knows full well the answer to this since we play this game often enough) "Papa" I answered with a smile. Then, she asked a question that I knew was coming but it still totally threw me for a loop.

"Who's your Mommy?"

"Well, my Mommy is 'Bunny'." I replied stiffly, waiting for her next question that was inevitably coming.

"Where is Bunny? My grandma?"

Here we go....

In my head I'm screaming, "I'm not ready for this" repeatedly...over an over. "She's only 3 years and 5 months old! 41 months! How has this concept entered her head so soon? How do I answer her?" "She may not be too young to ask the questions but she is too young to comprehend the answers..."

I began to tell her that Bunny, her grandma, my Mommy is in Heaven. (A concept I'm not too sure of myself...but I was thrown and caught off guard.)

She asked me if I missed her and again, if I loved her and was I sad that she was not here?

How the hell does she do this?

I told her I do miss my Mommy terribly because she isn't here with me and I love her and I wish she was still here with us. I told her I was sad because she never got to meet her and I just know she would love her... the conversation went on for a few more minutes before Fa told me "Not to worry because I'll make you feel better!" She said it to me. To my face. 3.5 years old. She even punctuated it with strong, neck-hugs! I am floored!

Then, she wouldn't let me leave her. She screamed bloody murder like I died a thousand deaths right in front of her, "Papa, Bunny, Mamma...Don't leave me!" "I'm scared you'll leave me!" "Mamma come back, don't leave me alone!"

Heartbreak.

Sheer shattered chest muscle.

You're not breathing, JJ. Breathe.

As I sat there rocking her close to my chest trying my damndest not to smother her with my kisses and trying even harder to convince her that I would never leave her and I will be her mommy forever...I felt guilty.

What if I do leave her?

What if I make her a motherless daughter?

I'm lying to her face.

How will she forgive me for telling her moms don't leave? When they do.

She is too young to be worried about this. She is too smart to not figure it out. She is too sensitive to forget this conversation any time soon.

I am sad that I have left her a legacy of loss and fear of being left alone by mother.

How could I do this to her?

How do I help her understand?

How do I rest her fears?

...Assure her that I am here for her...until she is older and better able to understand...that moms may leave this earth, but they can never be taken from your heart.

Beautiful Mourning

It's that time again. April. April 30th to be specific. Mom's birthday. She'd be 67 today.

I miss her.

(It's easy to see why everyone loved her.)

(Look at how beautiful she was!)

Usually, at this point in the year, I start to dive deep into the darkness of mourning and depression. It took me a long time to figure out that April, May and June were taboo until therapy has taught me the meaning of the "Hat Trick" and how to start coping.

The "Hat Trick". I've mentioned on my other blogs about it. April - her birthday, May - Mother's Day, June - The anniversary of her passing. It has debilitated me long enough. It has sent me into a tailspin for 19 full years. It has made me contemplate ending it myself for many, many years.

And it returned every April. Without fail. Subconsciously at first...then I began putting the pieces together.

But this year is different.

This year, I intend to celebrate and embrace her, not mourn her. I've mourned long enough. I have suffered her loss with every new event - boyfriends, marriage, the birth of my daughter, anniversaries, birthdays...I have had enough mourning for a whole lifetime. After all, she's been gone more than half of my life this year. 19 years. I'm 36. Almost 2 decades gone. God I miss her.

(I might have been 1 here, she was 32.)

17 is a terrible time to lose your mother. And after all these years, I am finally learning that I have survived terrible losses and events in my life...and emerged stronger and smarter.

Going through it all, I never realized how strong I was becoming. But today, on her birthday, I can honestly admit what I see. She actually set out to do what she wanted to do. She wanted to make me a strong and independent woman. And while I may not agree with her technique, (that's a joke) I can finally appreciate what I've been through.

I can embrace my loss in a way I never have before. I can take my loss and use it to give me strength and courage to get through anything. It is my badge of honor, my tribute to her. I can see her in me and myself in my daughter, that gives me strength. Hope everlasting.

Finally, I can say. "I love you mom" without feeling anger, fear and emptiness in my soul. Finally, I can use this newfound courage for good.

Finally, I can celebrate her birthday as a joyful memory and wish her a happy birthday with all my heart. Yes, I'm crying as I type this. Yes, it was many, many years of therapy and medication to come to this crossroads. Yes, I was very fearful that if I stopped mourning and began accepting her death that I would officially lose her for good. Finality. It's what I feared most.

But I know now that the finality is only physical. My heart still feels her near me, still feels her embrace me when I need her love. I can still feel her watching over me, protecting me. And I can finally be okay with it. No I'll never be 'over' it, no I'll never forget her love and her soul. But I can be 'okay'.

The season has come to embrace her as is. As the part of my heart that no one can ever take away. This mourning, has made me realize I have entered a new phase in my life.

And I want to thank her for helping me find this peace. I have been waiting for a long time and working diligently to find it. I would have never found it without my mother's love, guiding me to this peace.

Peace of mind that she is with me always. I'm sure that was her dream.

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you and miss you.

(You were always beautiful.)

In control

I have been examining this life lately.

I believe I have finally come to the realization that I must enjoy it now. For I won't have another chance.

I have been given a clinical name for what I have been suffering for all of these years.

Depression.

And when Fa was born, Post Partum Psychosis.

I hate labels.

But for some reason. These labels in particular have helped me to let go of all the pain and insecurities I have held deep for so long. There are reasons for why I felt the way I did. I am not the only one who has felt this way. Experienced this. I am awakened to this new found security.

A funny kind of security. It's more of an "ah-ha!" then an "I can do this" thing.

When Fa was born, I was severely misdiagnosed and I wasn't given the correct line of treatment, which may have saved me from years of insecurity and fear vs. what I've gone through. I thought I was losing my mind. And no one even made a blip about my symptoms. I am surprised I got through it as well as I did. Goes to show what your heart can take for your child.

Today, it has a name and symptoms that I actually had, and a cure. A cure that I am finally receiving after 4+ years.

I am relieved. I am justified. I am secure.

I am so happy with being a mother these days that I almost feel jipped. I should have felt this way much earlier. I've lost precious moments due to the visions, fears, insecurities and thoughts.

I can't get those moments back. But I sure as shit can enjoy the ones I am having now.

I am proud of myself for finally, finally taking steps to figure this out. I knew it. I knew it was something more than depression after Fa was born.

Looking back and examining my life so far, I also realize that after the trauma of losing my mother at such a young age, I have done pretty good for myself...even if it took longer than I'd have liked. I survived a loss that led me through a downward spiral of depression and suicidal ideations and I was strong enough (without therapy, back then) to get through it.

I'm one tough bitch.

And finally. Finally. Thanks to Fa and the Pro, (and some damn good psychiatrists and therapists) I have finally begun to step into the light...To enjoy my life and thrive on the events that make it mine and only mine. This is my one and only life.

I am finally strong enough to live it to the fullest.

I am breathing again, for the first time in years. I've taken control and I love every second of it.